“Then stay out of my way.” He loaded the rest of the bags with only a little more care than the first few, walked over and opened the passengerdoor. “Get in.”
“How far is the ranch?” she asked.
“It’s about an hour’s drive from here.”
“I guess if we’re going to be together for the next hour, I ought to at least know your name. I’m Libby Hale.”
“Oh, we’re going to be together a lot longer than an hour.” When she struggled to climb into the truck, he gripped her waist, hoisted her up as if she weighed nothing and practically tossed her into the seat. “We’ll be spending a lot of time together in the next few weeks. My name is Sam Bridger.”
The door slammed loudly as the name echoed through her head.Sam Bridger.The man who would determine her fate until she completed the provisions of her uncle’s will.
As the driver’s side door opened and Bridger slid in behind the wheel, Libby felt the color climbing into her face. She didn’t like to hurt people’s feelings, and clearly she had.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you. I thought the owner would be older, you know, gray-haired, maybe a man a little closer to my uncle’s age.”
“Sorry to disappoint.” Firing the engine, Bridger put the truck in gear and pulled awayfrom the curb.
“It’s not your fault. I’m just not used to, you know, being around people like you.”
“Country bumpkins, you mean?”
Her cheeks burned. “No, of course not. Rural people. People who live in small towns. I was raised in the city.”
He seemed to relax a little, the tension leaving those ridiculously wide shoulders. “With any luck, you’ll get used to it out here. Maybe you’ll even learn to like it.”
“That’s what Bert said.”
“And Bert is who? Your boyfriend?”
“No. I don’t have a boyfriend.I don’t date.”
For the first time, he actually seemed interested in whatshe was saying.
“What do you mean, you don’t date? A woman who looks like you?” He flicked her a glance that ran from the top of her head to the toes of her five-inch heels. “You have to have men fawningall over you.”
She gave him a look. “Exactly the reason I don’t date.” Men did fawn all over her, but only for one reason—the way she looked. She’d been born with amazing genes, which had given her a near perfect body and a face to go with it. It was nothing morethan pure luck.
Men were interested—no question about that. But once a man got what he wanted, he was gone. None of them gave a damn about her beyond sex. Fortunately, it hadn’t taken her long to figure that out.
“When you say you don’t date, do you mean since last week, last month,or last year?”
She sighed. “I mean I haven’t been out with a guy for three years.”
“So, what then? You’re a lesbian?”
She sighed. “Sometimes I wish I were, but no. Not that there’s anything wrong with it and not that it’s any ofyour business.”
“True enough.”
“What about you? You live out in the middle of nowhere. How long since you had a date?”
Sam laughed. It was the first time she had seen any expression of humor on his face. It changed his looks so dramatically she felt a warm tug in the pitof her stomach.
“Well, it hasn’t been three years.”
No, he was probably another womanizing snake. She seemed to attract them, though so far, Sam Bridger appeared to have no interest in her at all on a male-female level.
They rode along in silence. She was sure she would catch him checking her out. She was wearing a short navy-blue pencil skirt, a pale blue sleeveless silk blouse, and her usual spike heels. Bridger didn’tseem to notice.
