of their conversations, Maggie instantly recognized Griffin McAlister’s voice. When she spun around, her heart rate soared and her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the cowboy in front of her.
Griffin was even better looking in person. Tall enough for her at five-ten to look up to—the good Lord had taken his time when he’d created this man.
Dressed in formfitting faded jeans, a tan shirt and scuffed cowboy boots, the golden god oozed sex appeal. He pushed the brim of his hat off his forehead. The fact that he knew how much power he wielded shone in his ocean-blue eyes.
I bet this cowboy breaks hearts like I break a nail.
A crooked smile spread across his face, displaying gorgeous dimples. “Charmer, there, likes to be caressed behind the ears. Don’t you, boy?”
The horse nickered in response. Maggie slid her hand along the animal’s muscled neck to his ears and scratched behind them, but her gaze remained locked on Griffin.
With a casual grace, he strolled toward her. “He’s putty in your hands now.”
Rarely at a loss for words, Maggie scrambled to compose herself. Don’t stand here staring. Not that her gawking appeared to bother Griffin. This probably happened to him all the time. And he liked it.
“Are you here for a horseback-riding tour?” he finally asked.
“I’m afraid not. I’m here on business.”
She waited for his eyes to fill with recognition at the sound of her voice, but instead they twinkled, giving her the chance for a fresh start.
“What business would a pretty city woman like you have at a horse ranch?”
Pretty city woman? Maggie almost laughed and asked him whether he was delusional or needed glasses.
No one, not even her family, who loved her dearly, had ever described her as pretty. The closest she came was passably cute, and she hadn’t heard that word used in conjunction with her name since she was twelve. Obviously, the horse beside her wasn’t the only charmer around.
“Have you ever thought about being on TV? You’re a natural.” Viewers would love Griffin. His charisma would leak out of televisions across America.
He shoved his hands into his pockets, leaned back on his heels and smiled.
Lethal.
“I got to admit, a woman’s never used that line to get my attention.”
He thought she was coming on to him? Once again she doubted his sanity. No way would a woman like her think she stood a chance with a man like him. Griffin belonged with models or Miss Colorado, not a plain Jane. “It’s not a come-on. I’m Maggie Sullivan. We spoke on the phone.”
His smile evaporated. “I told you I wasn’t interested.”
“Since I flew here from Los Angeles to talk to you, it would only be polite for you to hear me out.”
“I didn’t ask you to come. That gets me off the hook.”
He turned and stalked off toward the barn, Maggie chasing after him. She smiled. There was nothing better than walking behind a man with an exquisite butt in a pair of jeans.
“I brought pictures of this season’s bachelorettes.”
Griffin stopped at the barn door and faced her. “Lady, can’t you take a hint?”
She held out the file. “Look at the women’s pictures.”
“What part of I’m not interested is hard for you to understand?”
“I understand it. I just don’t accept it.”
He shook his head. “If I look at the pictures will you leave me alone?”
“Absolutely.” She resisted the urge to shove the folder into his hand, and instead held it out.
He took the folder and then reached for the barn door. Wood groaned and hinges squeaked as he tugged it open. They stepped inside. “If you have hay fever you should head out now.”
He wouldn’t get rid of her that easily. Little did he know that a girl with three older brothers learned persistence as a survival skill. “Hay doesn’t bother me.”
Griffin turned on the lights. Next, he pulled out the photos and flipped through them. Maggie shoved her hands into her pants pockets and crossed her fingers.
She bit her lip. No smile. No twinkling eyes. Where was his excitement? From his deadpan expression, she’d guess he was reviewing his tax return rather than photos of beautiful women. How could the sight of that many gorgeous females fail to elicit at least a grin?
“You’re right, the women are attractive, but I’m still not interested.” He handed the file back to Maggie, but she refused to accept it.
“Oh. Wait a minute. Are you gay?”
He stiffened, carefully set the folder on a stool and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “What makes you ask that?”
“Most red-blooded heterosexual men show some interest when they look at pictures of stunning women, but you didn’t.”
“You think I’m gay because I didn’t get all hot and bothered looking at those photos?”
Griffin stepped closer until they stood inches apart. His sparkling gaze pinned her. When he glanced at her mouth, all coherent thought deserted her. He leaned forward as if he might kiss her, sending her body into overdrive.
Reality check, Maggie. You’re not his type.
He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his hard form, leaving her dazed. She couldn’t breathe. His mouth moved toward hers.
He’s going to kiss me.
I can’t let him kiss me.
Why would he kiss me?
She jumped backward. Never graceful at the best of times, their feet tangled and she lost her balance. Her rear end hit the cement floor hard, with a decidedly unfeminine thud.
“I bet you’re used to women falling at your feet all the time,” she quipped in an attempt to ease her embarrassment.
“Not like this.” Griffin held out his hand, but she shook off his offer.
As she stood, she resisted the urge to rub her sore backside. That fall would leave her with a nice bruise.
“I am not gay.”
“I believe you.” Maggie looked away from Griffin’s piercing gaze to regroup. Once in control again, she crossed her arms over her chest. “You didn’t read the bios on the other side of the photos.”
“You said you’d leave me alone if I looked at the pictures.”
