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  “The one and only.” Betsy couldn’t help but notice Mary’s dreamy-eyed look when she added, “I bet he’s a real fireball between the sheets too.”

  “Mary!”

  Betsy couldn’t believe her ears. In all the years they’d been friends, she never heard shy Mary make reference to a man so openly.

  “Mary what? Aren’t I allowed fantasies?”

  “Well yeah. But I certainly wouldn’t waste them on him. The man has an ego bigger than Mount Everest.”

  “You know him?”

  “We met at the open house yesterday. Actually, he never did tell me his name.”

  But now that she knew it, Betsy also knew he not only built houses as he told her, but built the best. Skylar Blakewood had a reputation for being the contractor who gave you your money’s worth. He was known for buying large tracts of land and developing them, erecting condominiums or single family dwellings. His properties were handled by the largest agency in the area. Betsy had shown a few of his properties, even managed to sell one. But Skylar wasn’t present at the closing. His listing agent had him sign all of the paperwork ahead of time.

  If Betsy’s memory served her correctly, she thought he was a board member at City Savings, the bank holding the note to her mortgage and business loan.

  “Good morning, ladies,” he greeted, showing straight white teeth when he smiled.

  He was even more breathtakingly handsome than Betsy remembered. Maybe it had something to do with his pleasant smile. Or could it be his more casual attire? Betsy believed jeans and a tee shirt had a way of bringing out the raw sexuality in a man. One thing she was certain about was that same peculiar, yet pleasant sensation flowing through her she’d experienced yesterday when she first saw him. Only now, as he hovered so closely, the sensations were flooding through her.

  “So you decided to stop by and give me the name of your investor friend after all, Mr. Blakewood.” Betsy amazed herself at how cool and collected her voice sounded when her insides were firing up with desire as the scent of his cologne fell down around her.

  That big beautiful smile disappeared. Even the warmness Betsy noticed in his dark blue eyes turned cold.

  “Wrong, Miss Alexander. Like I told you yesterday, that’s something you’ll have to work out with Miss Rogers.”

  “Msss. Rogers and I have concluded our business.”

  The smile returned when he focused on Mary and extended his hand across the desk. “Forgive me, I’m Skylar Blakewood. And you must be Mary Gold.”

  Betsy would not, could not deny she felt insulted by the way he suddenly ignored her and poured on the charm to a blushing Mary. His refusal to grasp Betsy’s hand when she offered a friendly greeting yesterday was painfully fresh in her memory.

  For one rational second she believed he was deliberately trying to rile her, but didn’t have a clue why. Not about to be humiliated further, she stood to head for cover in the small confines of her private office on the second floor.

  “Could you spare a minute before you rush off, Miss Alexander?”

  His words came at Betsy with such urgency she was stunned into halting on the bottom step. Once the strong vibrations of his deep voice faded, she felt her cheeks flush from the sudden blast of heat that had torpedoed through her.

  Letting down her guard around a man was one thing Betsy knew she could refrain from without an ounce of effort. But she hadn’t the faintest idea how to combat these crippling, yet awesomely wonderful physical sensations.

  Only vaguely aware, she’d stood in silence for nearly a full minute before turning back to him. Then a quick glance at her watch and she spoke. “A minute is about all I have time for.”

  How she managed the words or the levelness in which she said them was a mystery. As for the meaning of those words, it wasn’t true. She had no pressing business this morning. But she had no desire to share that bit of information with Skylar Blakewood.

  “Then I’ll have to talk fast, won’t I?”

  Betsy got a glimpse of Mary’s disapproving glare. She expected a scolding the minute they were alone. But with any luck, she could head off a refresher course on business etiquette by being a bit more cordial.

  “How can I be of assistance to you, Mr. Blakewood?”

  “Well, the agency that had been handling my property sales no longer works for me.”

  I bet I know why too, Betsy kept to herself, only to appease her partner.

  “Now that I’ve purchased a large tract of land, I’m going to need another agency to produce buyers for the twenty homes I plan to build.”

  Betsy saw normally mild mannered Mary almost forget herself and jump for joy. True to her nature, she managed to contain her outburst of excitement. But Betsy wasted no time expressing herself.

  “You made a wise decision coming to us. And don’t you worry. We’ll get those houses sold for you.”

  Skylar hesitated. “To be quite honest, Miss Alexander, I haven’t totally decided on an agency yet.”

  Now Betsy understood why the man’s pleasant smile had suddenly disappeared. And if she wasn’t mistaken, he looked like he regretted what he said, but not half as much as she did. She felt like crawling under Mary’s desk so he wouldn’t see the embarrassment certainly visible on her face for jumping to the wrong conclusion.

  “We do have a growing number of buyers patiently waiting for new housing,” Mary rescued her with. And did so with an excellent choice of words Betsy thought.

  “That’s good to hear,” Skylar said with a return of that radiant smile. Then he raised those kaleidoscope eyes of his, which were colored a warmer shade of blue as he peered in Betsy’s direction. “I was hoping you’d be free to take a look at the land and offer suggestions on my proposed plan for development.”

  “I’d love to,” Betsy volunteered in the same anxious manner as before.

  Skylar glanced at his watch. “But I’ve already used up the minute you gave me, Miss Alexander.”

  Betsy inhaled deeply, promising herself from here on she would practice thinking before running off at the mouth. “None of my appointments hold a candle to trampling around a vacant stretch of land on such a beautiful day.”

  “I’m bogged down with paperwork, but I don’t see a problem covering for you while you’re out.”

  Mary had come to her rescue once again even though Betsy thought she was doing just fine on her own. But then, she wasn’t about to challenge her and offered a pleasant, “Thank you.” Then she looked to Skylar. “Are you ready to go?”

  A quick, “Nice to meet you,” was thrown to Mary before he hurried out the door behind Betsy.

  Betsy waited at the curb, watching him as he stepped out beneath the brilliant rays of the August sun. She couldn’t help but notice his well defined muscled body as he strode toward her. She swallowed hard in an attempt to extinguish the sparks of electricity zapping life into those precious female parts that had laid dormant most of her life.

  “I hope you don’t have a problem with riding in a pickup, Miss Alexander.”

  He stood so close that Betsy could feel his breath on her. So warm, so soothing and no doubt the reason it took her so long to locate her voice.

  “Of course it’s not a problem.” Unless you’re wearing your favorite lucky dress when you’re asked to climb onto a torn, paint splattered seat, she kept to herself after he opened the door on the passenger side for her.

  Betsy situated herself in the truck that in its present condition appeared way overdue the cruncher at the local junk yard.

  “I took my driving test in old Betsy here,” Skylar said as he swung his long legs in under the steering wheel.

  Betsy wasn’t sure she heard him right. “You named your truck Betsy?”

  He snickered when he looked her way. “Don’t be offended. I named this old girl long before I heard of Betsy Alexander.”

  He turned the key and the engine rebelled with a loud backfire that overpowered Betsy’s words. “Who said I was offended?”
It was just as well he didn’t hear, she decided and changed the subject. “So where is this land anyway?”

  “Not far,” was all he told her and focused on the street. A smile played around his mouth like he was enjoying the thought of surprising her.

  When he turned off the main street of town she was indeed surprised. The turnoff led them in the direction of her favorite country road. And as they rounded the final curve nearly bouncing out of their seats after hitting a pot hole, the panic set in.

  “The land you bought is on this road?”

  “Just up ahead. Not too far from the conveniences of town. Yet it’s well secluded from all the hustle and bustle. Something I’ve found appeals to a lot of my home buyers.”

  Betsy stopped listening to him.

  Maybe it wasn’t her land he’d purchased. There could’ve been another tract further north she wasn’t aware was for sale. She could’ve missed the ‘for sale’ my owner sign on one of her scouting trips. Betsy secured a number of listings that way. She prided herself in giving a convincing sales pitch on the benefits of having a Realtor to property owners who were trying to sell themselves.

  She’d steered clear of the owner of the land she planned for her dream house. She had no desire to list the property and advertise it for sale. But thoughts of hiding the ‘for sale’ sign had crossed her mind more than once. It would help prevent a sale and buy her more time to secure the financing she needed to approach the land owner with an offer.

  The entire time she’d rode home last night she searched for the answer to what had happened to the ‘for sale’ sign on the land. The sign had been stolen by some prankster teenagers and placed on another piece of land that wasn’t for sale. The owner had changed his mind about selling right now. She refused to even consider the possibility the land had been sold.

  Now, even as the truck coasted to a stop at the same place she’d stopped on her motorcycle numerous times, Betsy refused to believe the inevitable.

  “This is it,” Skylar announced and stepped out of old Betsy. Even after he came around the front of the truck and opened her door, Betsy didn’t budge from her seat. “Aren’t you going to get out and have a look?”

  A long moment of silence passed before Betsy slowly shifted in her seat and stepped down. She moved zombie-like as she followed the path he was making through the weeds.

  “My first house is going on the center of that hill,” Skylar told her, stopping a few feet into the stretch of flat land and pointing toward the top of the hill.

  Betsy saw, almost felt his excitement. But the pain from her sudden loss of what she’d dreamed about being hers was too overwhelming to allow even a trickle of excitement to shine through.

  “Are you okay, Betsy? Do you want to go sit down or something?”

  The tenderness and concern in his voice forced her to answer. “I’ll be fine. I just had a moment of lightheadedness. Go ahead and continue with what you were saying.”

  He hesitated a long time. His eyes moved over her in an examining way like he needed to make certain she was okay for himself. Finally, he turned his head away so he was once again staring at that magical peak of the hill.

  “The one on the very top will be the largest and of course most expensive of the twenty I plan to build down the hillside.”

  He was on the move again and Betsy did her best to keep up with him in spite of stopping every so often to untangle weeds from her three inch heels. When he stopped again, he didn’t speak at first. He stared off in front of him like he was in deep thought.

  “Listen,” Betsy finally said.

  “I don’t hear anything.”

  “That’s my point. It seems almost a crime to disturb such rare serenity.”

  Betsy was having a difficult time trying to decide if his eyes narrowed because he was giving her words serious consideration. Or had she hit a raw nerve? It didn’t take long to receive an answer.

  “I don’t see providing necessary housing as a crime, Miss Alexander.” He brushed against her as he stomped off in the direction of his truck.

  “You said you wanted my opinion,” Betsy shouted just to be certain he heard her since he’d placed a wide gap between them.

  When she bent down to hoist her shoe out of the ground where her heel had sunk to the sole, Betsy heard the truck door slam. The sound of the engine turning over put more speed in her step. She had seen a show of the man’s impatience yesterday. And it wouldn’t surprise her if he left her stranded.

  Seeing the truck in the same spot where they’d left it sent a wave of disappointment through her. She sort of liked the idea of spending the day roaming the hillside. But she was reminded her ride back to town waited by the sound of the engine being revved.

  Betsy hopped up in the cab barely getting the door closed when he dug out and instantly began traveling at top speed.

  “Look here, Skylar Blakewood, I won’t allow your temper and narrow mindedness to get us killed. If you can’t drive sensibly let me out.”

  Old Betsy backfired, sputtered and finally conked out after Skylar unexpectedly slammed on the brakes.

  “There, you happy now?” Without taking a breather or giving her the opportunity to respond, he fired off another question. “And what makes you think I’m narrow minded anyway?”

  “Are you kidding? I mention not being crazy about polluting the area with twenty houses and you blow up.”

  “I’ve changed my mind. There will be forty of them now.”

  Oh aren’t you the clever one, Betsy thought, feeling an approaching storm of anger brewing. But for once in her life, she was determined to be still until it passed. There was no way she was stooping to his childish level.

  “You can build fifty if you want. I mean it’s your land. But if it was mine, that hillside would be littered with Christmas trees.”

  “You’re quite right, Miss Alexander. It’s my land and I’ll do as I damn please with it.”

  The amused grin signaling victory is what griped Betsy the most. After he managed to get old Betsy running again, they drove the entire distance back in total silence. But Betsy’s emotions weren’t quiet. She wanted to scream. Cry when it finally sunk in she had lost the precious land she’d dreamed about owning for so long. All along ignoring the fact there were other people out there with dreams of their own for that land. People like Skylar Blakewood who had the money to bring those dreams to life.

  Skylar pulled up in front of Betsy’s office building and didn’t hesitate getting out and bustling around to open the door for her.

  “So now he’s back to playing the role of gentleman,” Betsy muttered under her breath and started to step down. Only, the next thing she knew she was falling into his arms.

  For the briefest of moments, their eyes met. And yet, they were able to carry on the most wonderful conversation. Their lips were so close that Betsy could almost taste the smoothness of his. The warm embrace lasted a short time as well, but Betsy wouldn’t have cared if it never ended. There was more than sparks flying deep within her. Every vital organ in her body began going magnificently haywire.

  Betsy couldn’t resist the need to blink and the magical spell that had fallen over her ended. She quickly pulled free of his hold. “Don’t bother asking. I’m just fine. My heel got stuck.” She spoke in the same biting tone as she yanked her shoe from the hole in the floorboard. She hadn’t even noticed she’d broken off the heel as she carried her shoe and limped off toward the building entrance.

  “For supposedly being one of the wealthiest men in Lewisburg, you’d think he could afford a decent form of transportation,” she hissed under her breath and went inside.

  The instant Betsy stumbled over the threshold carrying her broken shoe and appearing as though she’d just finished fighting a war, Mary gasped in alarm. “What on earth happened to you?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it now, Mary.” Near tears, Betsy limped past her partner’s desk and climbed the stairs to her private office.

/>   She slipped off her intact shoe and walked stocking-footed across the threadbare carpet to the window and yanked shut the blind. She had no desire to be cheered up by the bright rays of sunshine bursting inside the room.

  Once she’d plopped down on her desk chair, she committed herself to remaining firmly rooted in her seat and sulking to her heart’s content.

  Why did life have to be so complicated? Nothing was working out the way she’d planned. She stewed for a long while, blaming all the Stephanie Rogers and Skylar Blakewoods of the world for ruining her dreams. It just wasn’t fair. But then, life wasn’t fair unless you just happened to be born with a silver spoon in your mouth like Stephanie.

  When it came time to include Skylar, Betsy found herself remembering a section of a newspaper article she’d read about him.

  Skylar Blakewood’s life was a true rag to riches story. His childhood didn’t sound so different than hers. Parents had divorced, his mother working two jobs so she could feed her four children. While Skylar was still in high school, he spent his summers working from dawn to dusk for a local contractor. After a few years of saving nearly every penny he earned, he bought his first piece of land, gambling on the bank giving him a construction loan to erect a complex of condominiums. The bankers balked, insisting there wasn’t a need for that sort of housing in the area. But Skylar had a dream. He wouldn’t take no for an answer and convinced the bank board to take the risk. The gamble paid off. And now, Skylar sat on that same bank board.

  Betsy sat erect in her seat, a determined look on her heart-shaped face. Her sky blue eyes were opened wider when she stood and headed downstairs with the intention of a brief conversation with her partner until she saw Mary emptying a filing cabinet.

  “For Pete’s sake, Mary, what are you doing?”

  “What does it look like? I’m packing.”

  “Well stop it.”

  Mary dropped the handful of files into the box on her desk and gave Betsy her undivided attention. But she did the talking. “The bank called while you were holed up in your office. Seems a little bird left it slip we lost our biggest client.”