It Takes a Cowboy. GINA WILKINSЧитать онлайн книгу.
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 a pin directly into his ego.
“The tie?”
She nodded rather glumly. “I had this sudden, crazy idea that I could buy a role model for my nephew, Jeffrey. He’s living with me, and he’s going through a difficult time. He’s angry and rebellious, he doesn’t care about his grades, he isn’t making friends. He seems to have no interest in planning for his future. So, I thought maybe one of you men who have been through rough times and still managed to turn out successfully would have some influence on him. You know, maybe have a good talk with him and convince him of how important it is to follow the rules and focus on the future.”
He felt his eyebrows rising as he digested her unexpected explanation. She had bought him for her nephew? Remembering all the wolf-whistling women who had cheered him from the stands, he wondered how he’d ended up with this one. Not that he was complaining, exactly, he thought, studying her flushed face. “So you want me to have a bracing man-to-man talk with your nephew.”
She cleared her throat. “That was my original idea. But now I think maybe...”
She’d changed her mind, he realized. Somewhere between him taking off that tie and coming out of the bathroom in his regular clothes, she had decided he wasn’t the right one to talk to her nephew, after all. It was a good thing, he thought with a wince, that he had developed a pretty good self-image during the past few years. If he was the sensitive type, Blair Townsend just might have hurt his feelings.
What he should probably do was shrug his shoulders, agree that this had all been a mistake and let her go on her way, both of them having made their contribution to an extremely worthwhile cause. He was no one’s mentor, no kid’s role model. The very idea should have made him laugh. But something about the way she looked at his scuffed boots got his dander up. Her nephew could do worse than to take advice from him. And Blair just might find herself enjoying some time with him, as well.
“So what weekend is good for you?” he asked matter-of-factly.
She blinked. “What do you mean?”
“You bought me to spend a weekend with your nephew. Let’s go for it. Tell me when you want to do it, and I’ll set everything up.”
Blair shook her head. “No, really. I think—”
“You said he’s angry and rebellious and headed for trouble, right? You want him to talk to someone who’s been there, someone who had to choose between freedom and jail, right? Well, lady, I’m your man.”
Blair looked at him thoughtfully. “You really think you can get through to him?”
“I’m no psychologist,” he admitted. “And I’m sure no expert on kids. But I came to this ranch as mean and angry and rebellious as any kid they’d taken in before. There were some who predicted I’d be in prison before I turned twenty-one. Instead, I own a successful ranch and serve on the board of directors of several civic organizations. I pay taxes and vote in every election. You might say I’m a respectable citizen—though I guess there’s a few who’d define me in other ways.”
“You own a ranch?”
“Yeah. Didn’t you read the brochure?”
“I told you, I didn’t intend to buy anyone. It was just an impulse when the idea occurred to me about Jeffrey.”
“So now that you know I’m an upstanding guy, you want to give it a shot?”
“Well...”