here? The dignified, conservative businessman she’d spent a large chunk of her savings on had transformed right in front of her eyes into a bare-chested, fast-talking crazy man.
Oh, how she wished she had read one of those auction brochures before she had made such an uncharacteristically impulsive and imprudent gesture!
She should probably leave now, admit defeat and consider her monetary loss a donation to a very worthwhile cause. She wasn’t at all sure Scott McKay would be the right person to get through to Jeffrey. Pushing a picture of his gorgeous bare chest out of her mind, she took a step toward the exit.
“Hey, Blair!” Scott called through the bathroom door. “Would you mind pouring something cold for me, too? After sitting out there in that arena all afternoon, I’m damned near dried out.”
Blair sighed. His words reminded her of what a generous and unselfish gesture he had made on behalf of the ranch. She would have absolutely hated being paraded in front of a hooting, cheering crowd. Maybe Scott was still just a little nervous and hyper after that experience. That would be understandable, she thought, remembering the slightly bemused expression he’d worn during the auction.
Maybe she should give him a second chance.
“Soda or juice?” she called out.
“Whatever you’re having, darlin’.”
Darlin’. She swallowed a groan, tried again to forget how good he had looked a moment ago and poured orange juice into a glass she found in a cabinet beside the mini-refrigerator. She didn’t want anything for herself. She sincerely hoped Scott would reappear with his hair neatly brushed again, maybe wearing a polo shirt and khakis—something suitably conformist and respectable. Something that would convince her he was the right man for the job she had in mind.
The bathroom door opened and she turned, holding out the glass of juice she had poured for him. And then she nearly dropped it on the floor when he stepped out and she got a good look at him.
“Oh, damn,” she said in consternation. “You’re a cowboy.”
CHAPTER TWO
FOR SOME REASON, Scott was getting the idea that Blair Townsend wasn’t overly enthusiastic about the purchase she had made. In response to her comment, he glanced automatically at the clothes he’d just pulled on—a blue-and-white-striped denim shirt, a pair of jeans cinched with a worn leather belt and the boots he’d had on earlier.
Regular-type clothes, he thought with a frown. Why was she looking at him as if he’d just switched heads instead of shirts? “I’ve been called a cowboy a few times,” he acknowledged. Among other things.
She seemed to brace herself. “Rodeo?”
Reaching for the juice glass, he studied her face, reading disapproval in her expression. When he’d first met Blair Townsend, he’d been relieved that his buyer was young and very attractive—he still shuddered when he wondered what that older woman had wanted from a weekend with poor Rob Carter. He thought Blair looked rather prim and uptight in her conservative clothes—a cream-colored short-sleeve sweater set, pearl necklace and tailored slacks. It was a more professional-looking and less casual outfit than most of the ranch guests had been wearing that afternoon, but other than that, his first impression of her had been quite positive. Now he was beginning to wonder if the old lady might have been more fun. “I rodeo sometimes—when I feel like it.”
“What do you do when you don’t feel like it?”
He shrugged. “I’ve raced cars, motorcycles and speedboats, and I have a few other hobbies that keep me entertained. What do you do?”
She sighed, her expression changing from consternation to resignation. Pulling a roll of antacids out of the pocket of her cardigan, she popped one into her mouth. “I eat a lot of these,” she murmured.
He couldn’t help smiling at her rueful tone. He wondered if she was some sort of high-powered executive. She sure had the look. Her honey-blond hair was cut for practicality in a chin-length bob she kept tucked behind her ears. No wispy bangs to soften the look. Understated makeup—not that her fair, clear complexion needed artificial enhancement, he mused, studying her dark blue eyes, naturally rosy, rounded cheeks and soft, full lips. She was of medium height and slender. Pretty, he thought, but practical.
He hazarded a guess. “Accountant?”
“Lawyer.”
He nodded. Close enough.
“So, Counselor, you looking for some relaxation? Trust me, you’ve bought the right guy. By the time our weekend is over, you’re going to throw the rest of those antacids in the trash. We’re going to have a great time.”
She shook her head. He might have liked her to look a bit more intrigued by his promises. “That wasn’t the reason I bid on you, Mr. McKay. Actually, I think I’ve made a mistake. Maybe it would be best if I just consider my check a donation to the ranch and we’ll both forget about arranging a weekend. I’m sure you’re very busy. I know Lindsay and Rex and the others greatly appreciate the time you gave them today. It was extremely generous of you.”
“Now, just hold on a minute,” he said, holding up a hand. “You spent more than six thousand dollars for a weekend in my company. You must have had some reason for doing so.”
“Well, yes, but—”
“So, what did you have in mind? And what have I done to cause you concern?”
She cleared her throat and started to speak. He interrupted her, motioning toward the tweedy couch pushed against one wall. “Why don’t we sit down and get comfortable, and then you can tell me all about it.”
“That won’t be necessary. This won’t take long.”
Scott wasn’t the easily riled type, but Blair Townsend was starting to irk him a bit. What the hell had she bought him for if she didn’t want anything to do with him? Had she been so offended by the sight of his bare chest? Or—his pride stung a bit—so disillusioned?
“I’d like to sit for a few minutes,” he said, keeping his tone mild.
She looked momentarily abashed. “Of course. Please, feel free to take a seat.”
Staying where he was, he motioned toward the couch again, indicating that he would be seated when she was. Given little choice, Blair moved to the couch and perched on the edge, her back very straight, her chin high. Scott sank into the chair opposite the one that held his jacket and shirt. He slouched comfortably, stretched his legs in front of him and crossed his booted feet. He set his empty juice glass on the floor beside him, then laced his hands over his stomach. “Okay, what was your plan? And why’d you change your mind?”
“It was an impulse, really,” she answered, suddenly looking flustered. “I don’t act impulsively very often, and I really shouldn’t have.... Anyway, I only came to watch the events today, not to participate. Buying a bachelor was the last thing on my mind when I left home this morning.”
He nodded, growing increasingly curious. “So, what made you decide to bid on me? Was it my big blue eyes? My irresistible smile? My charming personality?”
“It was the tie, I think,” she murmured, sticking
