a sucker for a pretty brunette, Grant felt something inside him stir at the sight of her squinting up in the general vicinity from which a low wolfish whistle emanated.
Jamming his hard hat back on his head, he swore softly. Though he didn’t condone such chauvinistic behavior, he hoped the men’s catcalls might just scare the lost little lamb off before she stepped into the midst of this pack of wolves. What with the overtime they’d been putting in, most of the crew hadn’t even seen a woman for better than a month, let alone one who looked like she’d stepped out of the pages of some slick movie magazine. Maybe that actually was where he’d seen her before. For some reason she looked familiar.
Grant knew that coming between a crew of horny men and the sexiest thing they were likely to see in another month of long Sundays wasn’t going to improve his popularity any. It was just lucky for her that popularity wasn’t a prerequisite for being a decent man.
Over the years Grant had earned more than his fair share of battle scars protecting a lady’s honor. To be honest some were no more than pathetic barflies, but at least he usually had the privilege of getting to know them prior to scuffling over their questionable virtue.
Unfortunately rather than doing the smart thing and hightailing it back to the safety of her vehicle, the woman started toward the stairs leading to the drilling floor with all the self-assurance of some royal personage whose arrival is expected. Her walk was as classy as the way she tipped her chin elegantly up in the air and ignored the men’s whistles and jibes. Grant figured she was either very brave or very stupid.
He was betting on the latter.
Dropping what he was doing, he started toward the stairs with every intention of heading her off.
“Show’s over,” he called out to the men who had stopped laboring to ogle their visitor. “Get back to work!”
Caitlin’s daddy always said they grew ’em big in Wyoming. Big and hearty. If the man blocking her way was typical, she’d have to get used to craning her neck just to look them in the eye. This particular one appeared none too friendly as he met her halfway up the stairs and positioned himself directly in her way. Clearly there was no going around this giant.
“You lost?”
It sounded more like a statement of fact than a question.
“Not at all. I know exactly where I am.”
It was disturbing to hear the soft Southern drawl which attached itself to her words. Her professors had worked hard to school the “hick” out of her, but that accent still crept into her voice whenever Caitlin was feeling particularly nervous. She made a conscious effort to eradicate it as she offered the man further explanation.
“I’m the new geologist.”
How wonderful it felt to say the words aloud since they not only validated her presence here but also affirmed the dream she had set her heart upon since childhood. Everyone from her mother to her high school advisor had discouraged her from pursuing such a “manly” degree. Laura Leigh had wanted her daughter to attend the same small, private institution from which she had been graduated. Caitlin had flatly refused. A college founded on the principle that young ladies needed to be culturally “finished” was definitely not for her. Only recently had her mother’s alma mater allowed men on campus for anything more than uneventful mixers. Not that dating had been uppermost in Caitlin’s mind. Unlike so many of the girls she had grown up around, the degree she was looking for was not her MRS.
“I said I’m the new geologist,” she repeated, hoping it would lessen the tension that settled into the pit of her stomach like a bad meal.
Nothing in her college classes had prepared her for feeling so hopelessly out of place. So utterly vulnerable.
A smile played around the edges of the man’s mouth as he scratched his chin thoughtfully. Caitlin could almost hear the soft rasping sound the whiskers of his five o’clock shadow made against his fingertips. A telltale tremor rippled through her body. Though she didn’t expect all rig workers to be as clean-shaven as the preppy college boys she had left behind, neither was she prepared to be screened on-site by a man who looked like he would be just as at home piloting a Viking ship as driving heavy equipment. What a Hollywood producer could do with a hunk like that!
The subordinate position she held on the steps placed Caitlin at a decided disadvantage. She hoped he would attribute the flush of color in her cheeks to the summer heat—not to her discomfort at being eye level with the snap of his jeans. Her old roommate took perverse pleasure in kidding her about her sexual inexperience. Roxy said those furious blushes may as well have been a scarlet sign marking Caitlin as the oldest collegiate virgin in America.
Forcing her eyes away from the worn fly on the man’s stonewashed jeans, she scanned the tight white T-shirt that emphasized both the broad plane of his chest and the breadth of his muscled forearms. Sweat stains left no doubt that these muscles had been earned the old-fashioned way, not in some posh gym with tanning beds and a personal trainer.
Taking a deep breath, she attempted to insert a note of authority into her voice. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get to work.”
The man refused to budge. Leaning insolently against the metal railing, he leveled a pair of electric blue eyes at her and asked, “And just who exactly hired you, Miss Scarlett?”
The smile that curled his lips made Caitlin as defensive as the derisive Southern moniker he’d tossed at her. Just because she wasn’t a local didn’t automatically mean she was stupid, any more than being carded at bars by doormen who claimed she looked younger than her age didn’t mean she hadn’t earned the college degree that gave her every right to be here. After enduring four years in traditionally male-dominated classes and having to fight for every ounce of respect owed her, Caitlin wasn’t easily intimidated.
“I was hired by the owner, Rhett, and I’m certainly not going to show you my diploma to get by,” she snapped impatiently.
Caitlin’s ire only deepened the dimples on either side of the man’s arrogant smile. Hoisting a huge steel-toed boot on the top of the railing, the Viking positioned his leg across the stairs like a gate. Had he actually snorted in mirth at her reference to her college diploma? She wasn’t sure which bothered her more—the sense of danger that the leering men had instilled in her with their sexist hootings or the feeling that this virile bouncer was laughing at her.
There was no hint of patience in his voice when he spoke again. “Sorry, lady. Whoever led you to believe that you had a job here has played a real mean practical joke on you. We’re not hiring at the moment so the best advice I can offer you, besides dropping the snotty college attitude, is to turn that fancy rig of yours around and head back the same way you came. You’ll find a public phone and directions at Lysite. You can’t miss it. It’s the nearest town in any direction.”
Town? Surely he wasn’t referring to that wide spot in the road she’d passed where a handful of buildings, most notably a couple of bars, sprouted up like loosely rooted tumbleweeds. Why, with a huff and a puff a good wind could blow the place away.
Setting her jaw in determination, Caitlin forced the words through clenched teeth. “If you don’t move out of the way, mister, I’ll be forced to go over your head. I’d hate to have you fired,” she lied. In fact nothing would give her more pleasure than to terminate this sexist clod’s position.
At that, the man threw his head back and howled with laughter. “If only you could, honey, you’d probably be doing me the biggest favor of my life. But since that’s not the case, I’m going to do you a favor. I’ll personally escort you back to your Jeep and point you in the opposite direction of trouble. Someday maybe you’ll appreciate the fact that somebody was concerned enough to send you on your way with your virtue intact.”
It was Caitlin’s turn to snort. Drawing herself up to her full five foot six, she braced her shoulders as if preparing to run the man over like a tackling dummy. Good breeding was all that kept her from uttering the oath bubbling on the tip of her tongue.
“With