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his right arm was still in the sling. Sam’s blue eyes twinkled as he held her startled gaze. “Sorry.” His smile became more devastating. “I try not to make a habit of scaring beautiful women.”
    Kelly took a step back from him. The bright sun slanted off his broad shoulders, making Tyler seem even taller and more well muscled than she recalled. It was her imagination. She blinked, gathering her wits together. “Boots said you wanted to see me,” she explained abruptly, nervous beneath his blue eyes.
    Sam moved next to her. “Follow me. We can talk as we walk. Colly will throw a wrench at me if I don’t get this coupling over to him.”
    Kelly nodded and fell in step with him. She was grateful when he shortened his stride for her sake. Although she was long-legged, she was no match for Sam’s stride. “I wanted to come out and thank you,” she said in a rush of words. Why did he make her feel edgy? The coveralls he wore zipped up the front of his chest and she couldn’t help but stare at the mass of black hair visible above the zipper. He was excruciatingly masculine.
    “I’d like to talk with you privately, if I could,” she said, glancing up at him.
    “No problem.” He looked at his watch. “It’s noon. Why don’t I get cleaned up a little and I’ll take you over to Pondi’s, a great seafood restaurant not far from here.” He smiled. “Besides, you need some meat on your bones, Kelly Blanchard. You’re too damn skinny for a Texas woman.”
    She thrilled inwardly to the way her name rolled off his tongue. Frowning and trying not to show that he was affecting her so deeply, she shrugged. “How would you know if I were skinny or not?” she challenged, on guard against the familiarity that just naturally seemed to exist between them.
    “Remember, I was the guy that held you last night.” There was teasing in his tone. “And as I recall, I could feel every rib. Now, you willing to own up to being underweight and let me buy you lunch? Or are you going to fight me every inch of the way?”
    An unwilling smile curved her lips. “Okay, Sam Tyler, I’ll take your browbeating this one time. I owe you, anyway.”

Three
    A fter Kelly was introduced to Colly, a huge man who was much more heavily muscled than Sam, they departed. Kelly let Sam drive them in one of the many white Cadillacs that belonged to the company. The air conditioning was a lovely respite from the heat and Kelly relaxed in the comfort of the car as Sam drove.
    “Does everyone at Boots and Coots own a Cadillac?” she asked drily.
    “They’re our company cars.”
    “Some company car,” she complimented, trying not to smile with him.
    “You figure that our expenses run a minimum of several hundred thousand dollars a day for a team to go on a blowout. Most blowouts aren’t capped or killed right away. Boots went on one that took six months to extinguish. Add the money up on that.”
    Kelly did some quick arithmetic. “No wonder all you guys go around driving Cadillacs and wearing eighteen-carat gold Rolex watches!”
    “Money doesn’t buy everything.”
    Kelly met his teasing blue gaze. “You’re right. Money never did buy my Dad or myself.”
    “Didn’t think so.”
    “Oh?”
    He slowed the car down and pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. “I’d hate to be the man to make the mistake of trying to buy you,” he laughed. “You’d probably deck him.”
    Kelly shot him a prim look. “I am a feminist, Mr. Tyler. But I don’t think it’s necessary to go around clubbing people to make myself understood.”
    Sam enjoyed her quicksilver moodiness. One moment her green eyes sparkled with challenge; the next, with an angry golden flame of righteousness. “Okay,” he said, “I give up!” He got out and then leaned down. “I’ll be an MCP and open the car door for you.”
    He was impossible! Kelly broke into laughter. “Okay, I give up too! Please, open the door for me. Despite this liberated day and age, I