Lone Star Lovers (Dallas Billionaires Club Book 1)

by Jessica Lemmon

  Her light dipped. Tate wondered what she was thinking. Why the hell would Murdoch hire a woman to come in and take care of Sabatini House while he visited his new grandchild? Granted, Tate hadn’t specified gender when they’d discussed Murdoch’s stand-in, but it should have been a given considering his history.

  When she didn’t speak further, he figured he needed to spell it out. “Well, Willow, since I’m not what you wanted. And you aren’t what I…”

  He caught the lift of one eyebrow. Somehow he could read the warning for him to choose his words carefully. The fact that he understood that unspoken communication, and the earlier joy that had streaked through his body as he’d been pressed against her softness, convinced him she definitely had to go.

  Joy was the last thing he deserved…and having her in this house would be nothing more than a temptation.

  He continued carefully, “You aren’t what I expected, so I think it would be best if we called this whole thing off. Don’t you?”

  He wasn’t certain, but he thought she mumbled Are you sure about that? under her breath. The sound of the rain doubling down outside made it hard to tell.

  “Obviously Murdoch made a mistake,” he said.

  “Nooo,” she countered, shaking her head. “No, he didn’t. He was very specific in his instructions. And after all this time, he knew I would follow them to the letter.”

  Tate tried to squelch his curiosity, but the words slipped out anyway. “How long have you known Murdoch?”

  He could see her muscles loosen a little, softening her stance. “We met early last year. He’s such a sweet man, once he lets you get to know him.”

  That’s exactly how Tate would describe the man who’d been with him through the last twenty years of self-imposed exile from most of the world. Murdoch had been with him through the death of both his parents, the sale of his first book, but mostly he’d been there for Tate as he dealt with the grief that seemed never-ending. Murdoch had mentioned on more than one occasion that Tate’s lifestyle wasn’t healthy, but that simple opinion wouldn’t change the choices Tate had made.

  Couldn’t change them.

  Then Murdoch had said he was leaving…and now here Tate was facing the only woman to be in this house since his mother died.

  “Look,” she said, taking a step closer. “Murdoch would never forgive me if I walked away after all of the trouble he went through to make sure this place was taken care of while he was gone. Please. Just give me a chance.”

  Tate let his eyelids slide shut. The first thing that came to mind weren’t words, as was often the case, but the memory of her body against his. The close heat. The sweet scent. The softness of curves.

  Nope. Bad idea. He crossed his arms over his chest, knowing full well his bulk could be intimidating.

  Probably reading the rejection in his stance, Willow continued, “Besides, how will you hire someone else? Phone calls. Interviews. How many will it take before you find the right person?”

  “No.”

  No more intrusion. Anger rose as Tate tried to think, quickly. This woman was way too smart, and well-armed with info. Uneasiness slithered through him as he wondered what else Murdoch might have told her.

  But the aggression in his tone didn’t seem to faze her. “Or you could just accept the inevitable,” she continued.

  “And that is?”

  “Without me, you’re gonna have a ton of people tromping all through this place. From what Murdoch said, that’s not something you would enjoy.”

  “Or I could settle for just you?”

  He caught her sneaky smile on the outer edge of his flashlight glow. Then she asked, “Besides, have you driven in this stuff recently?” She flicked the flashlight toward one of the massive windows behind him. “I thought I was going to die trying to get here. I have no desire to go back out into this weather.”

  “A little melodramatic, aren’t you?” Even he cringed at his condescending tone. Defensiveness didn’t sit well on him.

  But on her… The way she stiffened her spine put other attributes on display. Tate tried not to notice.

  “Are you kidding me?” she demanded. “You obviously haven’t tried driving a tiny car over that bridge in fifty-mile-an-hour wind gusts. Have you?”

  Tate felt himself automatically shut down. No, he hadn’t driven in this kind of weather…not for many, many years. And he never would. Certainly not over the narrow bridge that connected the island to the mainland.

  “I made a lot of effort to get here. It’s at least common courtesy to let me try to do the job.”

  Tate clenched his jaw, frustration tightening his tone. “If you stay, you won’t find courtesy to be one of my strong points.”

  This time she didn’t respond, but adopted a stance that mimicked his own. In that moment, Tate recognized her.

  Oh, he’d never met her before, but he’d described her type over and over in his work. She was the embodiment of the heroines he wrote about in his horror stories. Women with grit, determination and smarts who made it out alive when lesser mortals rarely survived.

  That tingling awareness he’d been doing his best to ignore multiplied. All the more reason to get her out of here.

  A flash of white lit the room as lightning suddenly streaked across the night sky. Tate saw her jaw clench and shoulders straighten as she braced herself. Admirable. It was a little clue that told him a lot about her. Heck, the fact that she’d made it here in the first place in this weather signified a strength and determination some people never displayed in their lifetime.

  The flash was followed closely by a hard clap of thunder. The storm was picking up again. But it was just starting for Tate.

  Somehow he knew giving in on this point meant he would lose this battle…and lose the war. But she was right. As a long roll of thunder shook the house, he knew he couldn’t send her back out in this weather. His own feelings about her presence aside, he refused to make an impulsive decision that cost someone their life.

  Again.

  “Let me show you to a room, then.”

  Copyright © 2018 by Katherine Worsham

  Notorious playboy Nolan Madaris is determined to escape his great-grandmother’s famous matchmaking schemes, but Ivy Chapman, the woman his great-grandmother has picked out for him, is nothing like he expects—and she’s got her own proposal for how to get their meddling families off their backs and out of their love lives!

  Read on for a sneak peek of

  BEST LAID PLANS,

  the latest in New York Times bestselling author Brenda Jackson’s

  MADARIS FAMILY SAGA!

  Best Laid Plans

  by Brenda Jackson

  Prologue

  Christmas Day

  Nolan Madaris III took a sip of his beer while standing on the balcony of his condo. Leaning against the rail, he had a breathtaking view of the exclusive fifteen-story Madaris Building that was surrounded by a cluster of upscale shops, restaurants and a beautiful jogging park with a huge man-made pond. The condos where he lived were right across from the water.

  The entire complex, including the condos, had been architecturally designed, engineered and constructed by the Madaris Construction Company that was owned by his cousins Blade and Slade. For the holidays, the Madaris Building and the surrounding shops, restaurants and jogging park were beautifully decorated with colorful, bright lights. It was hard to believe a new year was just a week away.

  When Nolan had arrived home from his cousin Lee’s wedding, he hadn’t bothered to remove his tuxedo. Instead he’d headed straight for the refrigerator, grabbed a beer and proceeded to the balcony for a bit of mental relaxation. But all his mind could do was recall the moment his ninetysomething-year-old great-grandmother, Felicia Laverne Madaris, had finally cornered him at the reception that evening. She was a notorious matchmaker, a
nd he’d been avoiding her all night. Her success rate was too astounding to suit him—and she had calmly warned him that he was next.

  He was just as determined not to be.

  Nolan, his brother, Corbin, and his cousins Reese and Lee had all been born within a fifteen-month period. They were as close as brothers and had been thick as thieves while growing up. Mama Laverne swore her goal was to marry them all off before she took her last breath. They all told her that wouldn’t happen, but then the next thing they knew, Reese had married Kenna and today Lee married Carly.

  What bothered Nolan more than anything about his great-grandmother setting her schemes on him was that she of all people knew what he’d gone through with Andrea Dunmire. Specifically, the hurt, pain and humiliation she had caused him. Yes, it had been years ago and he had gotten over it, but there were some things you didn’t forget. A woman ripping your heart out of your chest was one of them.

  His cell phone rang. Recognizing the ringtone, he pulled it out of his pocket and answered, “Yes, Corbin?”

  “Hey, man, I just wanted to check on you. We saw you tear out of here like the devil himself was after you. It’s Christmas and we thought you would stay the night at Whispering Pines and continue to party like the rest of us.”

  Whispering Pines was their uncle Jake’s ranch. Nolan took another sip of his beer before saying, “I couldn’t stay knowing Mama Laverne is already plotting my downfall. You wouldn’t believe what she told me.”

  “We weren’t standing far away and heard.”

  Nolan shook his head in frustration. “So now all of you know that Mama Laverne’s friend’s granddaughter is the woman she’s picked out for me.”

  “Yes, and we got a name. Reese and I overheard Mama Laverne tell Aunt Marilyn that your future wife’s name is Ivy Chapman.”

  “Like hell the woman is my future wife.” And Nolan couldn’t care less about her name. He’d never met her and didn’t intend to. “All this time I thought Mama Laverne was plotting to marry the woman’s granddaughter off to Lee. She set me up real good.”

  Corbin didn’t say anything and Nolan was glad because for the moment he needed the silence. It didn’t matter to him one iota that so far every one of his cousins whose wives had been selected by his great-grandmother were madly in love with their spouses and saw her actions as a blessing and not a curse. What mattered was that she should not have interfered in the process. And what bothered him more than anything was knowing that he was next on her list. He didn’t want her to find him a wife. When and if he was ready for marriage, he was certainly capable of finding one on his own.

  “You’ve come up with a plan?” Corbin interrupted Nolan’s thoughts to ask.

  Nolan thought of the diabolical plan his cousin Lee had put in place to counteract their great-grandmother’s shenanigans and guaranteed to outsmart Mama Laverne for sure. However, in the end, Lee’s plan had backfired.

  “No, why waste my time planning anything? I simply refuse to play the games Mama Laverne is intent on playing. What I’m going to do is ignore her foolishness and enjoy my life as the newest eligible Madaris bachelor.”

  He could say that since, at thirty-four, he was ten months older than Corbin, who would be next on their great-grandmother’s hit list. “By the time I make my rounds, there won’t be a single woman living in Houston who won’t know I’m not marriage material,” Nolan added.

  Corbin chuckled. “That sounds like a plan to me.”

  “Not a plan, just stating my intentions. I refuse to let Mama Laverne shove a wife that I don’t want down my throat just because she thinks she can and that she should.”

  After ending the call with his brother, Nolan swallowed the last of his beer. Like he’d told Corbin, he didn’t have a plan and wouldn’t waste time coming up with one. What he intended to do was to have fun; as much fun as any single man could possibly have.

  A huge smile touched his lips as he left the balcony. Walking into his condo, he headed for his bedroom. Quickly removing the tux, he changed into a pair of slacks and a pullover sweater. The night was still young and there was no reason for him not to go out and celebrate the holiday.

  As he moved toward his front door, he started humming “Jingle Bells.” Let the fun begin.

  One

  Fifteen months later...

  Nolan clicked off his mobile phone, satisfied with the call he’d just ended with Lee about his cousin’s newest hotel, the Grand MD Paris. Construction of the huge mega-structure had begun three weeks ago. Already it was being touted by the media as the hotel of the future, and Nolan would have to agree.

  Due to the hotel’s intricate design and elaborate formation, the estimated completion time was two years. You couldn’t rush grandeur, and by the time the doors opened, the Grand MD Paris would set itself apart as one of the most luxurious hotels in the world.

  This would be the third hotel Lee and his business partner, DeAngelo Di Meglio, had built. First there had been the Grand MD Dubai, and after such astounding success with that hotel, the pair had opened the Grand MD Vegas. Since both hotels had been doing extremely well financially, a decision was made to build a third hotel in Paris. The Grand MD Paris would use state-of-the-art technology while maintaining the rich architectural designs Paris was known for.

  Slade, the architect in the Madaris family, had designed all three Grand MD hotels. Nolan would have to say that Slade’s design of the Paris hotel was nothing short of a masterpiece. Slade had made sure that no Grand MD hotel looked the same and that each had its own unique architecture and appeal. Slade’s twin, Blade, was the structural engineer and had spent the last six months in Paris making sure the groundwork was laid before work on the hotel began. There had been surveys that needed to be completed, soil samples to analyze, as well as a tight construction schedule if they were to meet the deadline for a grand opening two years from now. And knowing Lee and DeAngelo like he did, Nolan expected the Grand MD Paris to open its doors on time and to a fanfare of the likes of a presidential inauguration.

  After getting a master’s graduate degree at MIT, Nolan had begun working for Chenault Electronics at their Chicago office. Chenault Electronics was considered one of the top ten electronics companies in the world. The owner, Nicholas Chenault, was a family friend, had taken Nolan under his wing and had not only been his boss but his mentor, as well.

  After working for Chenault for eight years, Nolan had returned to Houston three years ago to start his own company, Madaris Innovations.

  Nolan’s company would provide all the electronic and technology work for the Grand MD Paris; some would be the first of its kind anywhere. All high-tech and trend changing. It would be Nolan’s first project of this caliber and he appreciated Lee and DeAngelo for giving him the opportunity. Lee and his wife, Carly, spent most of their time in Paris now. Since DeAngelo and his wife, Peyton, were expecting their first child four months from now, DeAngelo had decreased his travel schedule somewhat.

  Nolan also appreciated Nicholas for agreeing to partner with him on the project. Chenault Electronics would be bringing years of experience and know-how to the table and Nolan welcomed Nicholas’s skill and knowledge.

  Nolan had enjoyed the two weeks he’d spent in Paris. He would have to go back a number of times this year for more meetings and he looked forward to doing so, since Paris was one of his favorite places to visit. There was a real possibility that he might have to live there while his electronic equipment was scheduled to be installed.

  Nolan leaned back in his chair. In a way, he regretted returning to Houston. Before leaving, he had done everything in his power to become the life of every party, and his reputation as Houston’s number one playboy had been cemented. In some circles, he’d been pegged as Houston’s One-Night Stander. Now that he was back, that role had to be rekindled, but if he was honest with himself, he wasn’t looking forward to the nights of mindle
ss, emotionless sex with women whose names he barely remembered. He only hoped that Ivy Chapman, her grandmother and his great-grandmother were getting the message—he had no intentions of settling down anytime soon. At least not in the next twenty-five years or so.

  He rubbed a hand down his face, thinking that while he wouldn’t admit to it, he was discovering that living the life of a playboy wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be. Most of his dates were one-night stands. There were times he would spend a week with the same woman, and occasionally someone would make it a month, but he didn’t want to give these women the wrong idea about the possibility of a future together. He was probably going to have to change his phone number due to the number of messages from women wanting a callback. Women expecting a callback. Women he barely remembered from one sexual encounter to the next. Jeez.

  Nolan wondered how his cousins Clayton and Blade, the ones who’d been known as die-hard womanizers in the family before they’d settled down to marry, had managed it all. Clayton had had such an active sex life that he’d owned a case of condoms that he’d kept in his closet. Nolan knew that tidbit was more fact than fiction, since he’d seen the case after Clayton had passed it on to Blade when Clayton had gotten married.

  Blade hadn’t passed the box on to anyone when he’d married. Not only had he used up the case he’d gotten from Clayton, but he’d gone through a case of his own. Somehow Clayton and Blade had not only managed to handle the playboy life, but each claimed they’d enjoyed doing so immensely at the time.

  Nolan, on the other hand, was finding the life of a Casanova pretty damn taxing and way too demanding. And it wasn’t even deterring Ivy Chapman.

  Nolan picked up the envelope on top of the stack on his desk. He knew what it was and who it had come from. He recalled getting the first one six months ago and he had received several more since then. He wondered why Ivy Chapman was still sending him these little personal notes when he refused to acknowledge them. All the notes said the same thing... Nolan, I would love to meet you. Call me so it can be arranged. Here is my number...