“I’m afraid I’ve changed my mind.” Hastily grabbing the sweater, she started for the door. Clay Whitfield’s voice froze her where she stood.
“Not so old after all,” he teased.
“I didn’t...I mean I’m not dressed appropriately. I just...I came to apologize for what happened this afternoon.” Why couldn’t she stop rambling? He was doing it to her again. He looked magnificent in his black evening clothes. She looked like a surf bunny.
“Don’t be silly. You look lovely.” He slipped an arm around her waist. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to Virginia and her husband, our host and hostess.”
Ellie hung back. “Please, Clay. I wouldn’t feel comfortable.” Silently, she pleaded with him to understand and surprisingly, he seemed to.
“All right. We’ll go for a drink someplace else.”
She managed to nod. The man was so imposing she’d have followed him into the party if he’d pressed her, knowing she’d be making a fool of herself.
He tugged her down the steps and gave instructions to one of the youths parking cars to retrieve his Ferrari.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Ellie said. “I have to be up at five-thirty.”
“You do keep the most god-awful hours.”
Her head came up. “How do you know what hours I keep?”
Clay chuckled. “My spies are everywhere.”
“I almost believe you.”
Clay stopped at the edge of the driveway. “I know because I’ve returned to the show grounds at dawn a few times and seen you working one of your horses. Jake says you do that every day.”
Ellie made no reply. If she wanted to be as good as Clay, she had no choice.
The car arrived and the valet opened the passenger door. As Ellie climbed in, Clay’s gaze roamed over her legs. Rounding the car, he slid in behind the wheel, leaned over and reached in the glove box. “Here, put this on.”
She eyed the white silk scarf, a distinctly feminine article of apparel. “Always prepared, I see.”
Clay didn’t miss the barb. “Jealous already?”
“Hardly.” She sat up a little straighter, tied the scarf around her head. “We barely know each other.”
“The night is young.” Clay grinned at her worried expression as the engine roared to life. He tore off down the driveway, stirring up dust and the dogs in the kennel, and turned onto the road. Driving like a speed demon, he seemed surprised to find Ellie smiling instead of objecting.
“So you have some adventure in your blood after all.”
“What?”
“The speed. You don’t seem to mind.”
“I love it. I like the rush, just like taking the fences.”
He tossed her a glance. “What about men? Most women find men the most exciting sport of all.”
“I don’t have time for men.”
Clay arched a brow. “No lovers, not even a boyfriend?”
“Now you’re getting personal. But no, no boyfriends.”
“Or lovers?” Clay pressed.
She turned wary. “Don’t you ever think of anything but sex?”
