“Then stop acting like a bitch.” He was breathing hard, fighting to control his temper.
“If you can act like an ass, then I can act like a bitch.”
“Damn you!” He took a steadying breath as she stomped off to her car. She had the cutest little ass, he thought as she marched along, and felt a tug of amusement.
“How about dinner?” he called after her, knowing she wouldn’t go and enjoying the rigid posture that meant he’d gotten to her again.
“I wouldn’t go out with you if you were the last man on earth!” She unlocked the Toyota and climbed inside. Clay walked over and opened her door, stared down at her over the top of the rolled-up window.
“Do you really dislike me that much? Or is it men in general? You never go out. You never have any fun. Maybe you really are frigid.”
“When it comes to you, Clay, I’m definitely frigid. There are, however, men who affect me differently. They think I’m plenty warm enough.”
The barb smarted more than it should have. Clay clamped his jaw shut, fighting his temper again. What the hell was he doing wrong? He could charm most people as easily as he did the pretty little jump-bunnies who hung around his stalls.
With Ellie he felt constantly on the defensive, often at a loss for words, and furious half the time.
The other half, he wanted to carry her off over his shoulder, take her to bed and find out the truth once and for all. Was she frigid, as the rest of the riders believed? Or as warm and passionate as Clay suspected?
“Would you mind closing my door so I can leave?” she asked tartly.
“I’ll let you go if you agree to go out with me.”
One of her reddish eyebrows went up. “Haven’t you figured out I have no intention of sleeping with you? That’s all you want from me, so why don’t you find someone else?”
“I admit I’d like to take you to bed. Why wouldn’t I? You’re pretty, you’ve got a great figure, and I’m intrigued. But for some strange reason, I actually think we might get along.” He had used the same line a dozen times, usually with success. It surprised him to realize this time he meant it.
“Are you kidding? You and I get along? That has to be the biggest joke of the year.”
“Hey, Ellie, congratulations!” Flex McGrath walked toward them, red hair gleaming in the sun. “You, too, Clay.”
As usual, Clay thought, Flex’s timing was rotten. At Ellie’s furious expression, a slow smile bloomed on Flex’s freckled face.
“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“You are,” Clay said.
“You’re not,” said Ellie.
Flex’s smile widened. “Jake saw you drive in, Clay. He’s over behind the barn. He wants to talk to you.” When Clay made no move to leave, Flex added, “He’s edgy as hell this morning. I wouldn’t keep him waiting.”
Clay clenched his jaw, nodded and started walking. Dammit, enough was enough. He’d be drawn and quartered before he’d ever ask that woman out again.
Ellie followed Clay’s retreating figure, furious and wishing she could keep her anger in check.
“He still trying to put the make on you?” Flex asked.
Ellie’s head came up. “How did you know?”
“That’s easy. Nobody’s been able to score with you, and Clay can’t pass up a challenge.”
The words stung. Some insane part of her wanted to accept Clay’s invitation. Her common sense reminded her what a dumb idea that was.
“You’re right, I know, but...”
“But what? But he’s handsome, one of the world’s best riders, and you’ve secretly got the hots for him?”
“Of course not!”
