“Sorry I’m late,” he said, his voice deep, husky.

Troy.

Taylor sat up straighter, her stomach flip flopping wildly.

He looked so… different.

“Welcome,” Paige said, smiling at him. “Glad you’re here.”

He nodded again, his narrowed gaze scanning the room, looking for an available seat.

Taylor hated the way her pulse suddenly danced. There was no reason for her pulse to race. It was embarrassing, actually, to feel anything. So ridiculous that she did.

But she wasn’t the only one who seemed affected by Troy. The other women were suddenly sitting taller, and a few were preening. Even calm, practical, unruffled Paige suddenly looked nervous. It’d been several years since the Copper Mountain Courier had named Troy Sheenan Marietta’s Most Eligible Bachelor, but apparently he hadn’t lost any popularity with the ladies since then.

Troy headed to the table. Last night he’d looked like a city slicker in his cashmere sweater, tailored trousers and black wool coat but tonight he looked imposing in the thick shearling sheepskin coat and scuffed cowboy boots, snowflakes dusting his wide shoulders and long sleeves.

Tonight he wasn’t the technology tycoon from California, but a Paradise Valley rancher with Montana running deep in his veins. Tonight he looked like a Sheenan.

Taylor had met two of the other Sheenans in the past month, and both Brock and Dillon were big, dark, ruggedly handsome men. Having changed from his city clothes, Troy looked just as tough. Montana tough.

Taylor hated that she found this new Troy rather appealing. She didn’t want to find him appealing. He was Jane’s ex. Jane’s man. Jane’s love. Taylor couldn’t forget that, either.

But suddenly Troy’s gaze met hers, and held. It was just for a split-second but that split-second was enough to send a rush of blood to her cheeks.

She dropped her gaze, embarrassed, and more than a little flustered. It’d been bad enough telling him she couldn’t be his date to the ball, but to spend the next hour in the Crawford Room with him?

She prayed he’d take the empty seat next to Paige. He didn’t. He took the chair on her right, and Taylor’s heart did a quick staccato as he pulled out the wooden chair and sat down next to her, stretching his legs out beneath the table, boots crossing at the ankle, his denim covered thigh practically touching hers.

“Hello, Taylor,” he said under his breath as the meeting resumed.

Her mouth went dry. “Hi,” she whispered.

“Get your car situation sorted out?”

She nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”

“Good.”

The meeting resumed, but Taylor could barely focus on what Paige was saying.

Troy was seriously distracting.

And not just because he was Jane’s ex. The man had quite a few attributes.

Like his size. He was a big man… you couldn’t ignore him. He filled his chair and all the space around him with shoulders and a big back and hard carved quads.

And a fit man. He had a body. And muscles. Lots of them. The jaw-dropping, eye-candy sort of body, and now that his heavy coat was off, his snug fitting Henley seemed to stretch over and wrap every sinewy line in his chest and arms, the soft cotton delighting in his dense pecs, flat hard abs, and thick biceps.

Then there was his scent.