Rick rested his fingers on my arm and leaned in, his lips barely touching my ear as he whispered, “Bid for me and I’ll sail you far away from all this.”
He winked and shivers of expectation stole up my spine. I could just envision sailing in the Gulf with Rick, minus the dreadlocks, making a stop at South Padre Island, wading in the pristine water while colorful fish darted around our legs, where cottony sand beaches awaited us and then…then…I saw him—
Be still my heart, ‘twas none other than Robert McCrory decked out in a blue and green belted plaid kilt, renaissance-looking soft leather boots, and no shirt, wicked man. Only a sash draped across his bronzed, muscular torso, hiding a wee bit o’ his well-sculpted chest. And a gold bracer caressed his bicep, like I wanted to do. Just to see if he was really as strong as he appeared to be. His green eyes captured mine, held me hostage, and challenged me to join him.
“Uhm, Rick, I’ll be right back.” Maybe.
The gold bracer alone that Robert wore would probably break my bank account, but to buy the whole man? I sighed. Now, if he offered to take me to the Highlands—to a castle, better yet—I’d promise him anything.
Wanton woman that I was. Okay, I was so not into bachelor auctions, but the bachelors they were auctioning this year were a feast for the eyes, and could do serious damage to my pocketbook.
My gaze strayed to the fur-covered sporran at his waist, and then to the sword hanging at his side. I closed my gaping mouth and my eyes shifted again to his face. His lips curved up and his eyes sparkled like the devil. Yeah, every bit of him hooked me.
I couldn’t help it. My Scottish ancestry was calling to me—take him, the Highlander laird of Granbury. Take him!