A Fortunes of Texas Christmas

by Helen Lacey

She stared at him. “Huh?”

  “Why?” he said again. “Or rather, why not?”

  “Because...” She was uncharacteristically lost for words. “Because I...”

  “Are you married? Do you have a boyfriend? Lover?” He asked the question with so much self-assured arrogance she couldn’t help but gape at him. “Someone who might object to my...interest?”

  Interest? She laughed out loud. “Really, can you hear yourself?”

  “Perfectly,” he replied, coming a little closer, so close that they were now barely a foot apart.

  The air seemed to sizzle, and she fought the urge to step backward. She wasn’t about to be outmaneuvered by this man. She wanted him to know exactly how she felt about him, maybe starting with a swift knee to the groin area. Which made her glance down, then up, and then realize she looked as though she was checking him out!

  “I have... I have work to do,” she said and fumbled over her words before meeting his gaze. “And I don’t have the time to—”

  “Have dinner with me,” he said softly. “You won’t regret it.”

  He was wrong. She would regret it. Just like she regretted the idea that she was actually considering it. Because, hell and damnation, he was absolutely the most gorgeous man she had ever met...and she wasn’t the least bit immune to him. She was hot all over. Her entire body was about to be set on fire, as though he was the spark and she was the kindling.

  She swallowed hard. “No. I can’t.”

  “Robin,” he said, her name almost sounding like a caress. And thinking about his voice caressing her didn’t help, either. Because all she could imagine was how it would feel if his hands did the same to her body! “Life is too brief to think about what we can’t do.”

  She stepped back and pressed her hip against the table. “That’s just your arrogance talking,” she shot back. “Because you like to get your own way.”

  “Of course,” he replied, not denying it. “I am a man, and we generally like to get exactly what we want.” He shrugged, feigning innocence. “Perhaps you could make allowances for that.”

  She laughed again. If it weren’t so ridiculous, it would be hilarious. “You’re an egotistical snob...that’s something I can’t make allowances for.”

  He smiled, his blue eyes glittering. “I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise.”

  “Go away.”

  He didn’t move. “So, you didn’t answer my question...about having a husband. Or boyfriend. Or lover.”

  The way he said the word lover made her skin prickle with a heady kind of awareness. Because he clearly had designs on the role. It was madness. They hardly knew each other. She didn’t get swept away by good looks. Sure, Trey had been good-looking...but not like this. And she hadn’t lusted after him the way she was silently and foolishly lusting after Amersen Beaudin.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m single...and happily so. However, I do have two older brothers and a father who would need only one word from me to come after you with a shotgun, Mr. Beaudin.”

  “You should probably call me Amersen,” he said and then laughed so sexily her knees actually trembled. “Since we’ll be going on a date.”

  “I’m not going on a date with you,” she refuted. “Not ever.”

  “I can wait. I’ll be in town for a week or so.”

  Robin planted her hands on her hips. “You can wait all you like...it won’t make any difference.”

  “That’s harsh. But you know, I think you’d like me if you gave me a shot.”

  She made a bored, huffing sound. “A shot? I wouldn’t go out with you even if you were a prince. And not even if I had a fairy godmother who could turn a pumpkin into a carriage or even if I owned a pair of glass slippers.”

  He chuckled. “That’s an interesting idea. You have a lot of spunk, Robin. I like that about you.”

  “I’m happy for you,” she responded. “Now you can leave and go back to playing with your new perfume or writing one of your cynical and witty blog posts. Some of us have actual work to do. Goodbye.” She said it to belittle and embarrass him. But he didn’t look the least bit embarrassed or belittled. He looked amused. And cocky. He looked like insults weren’t so much as a blip on his radar. He looked as though he could handle anything from anyone. Including her.

  He reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet and then tossed a small business card on the table. “My cell number. Call when you’re ready to admit you want me.”

  Robin stared after him for several minutes after he left. Furious. Enraged. Appalled.

  And totally—and unbelievably—turned on.

  Chapter Three

  “Robin, could you come up to the house when you get a chance? There’s something I would like to show you.”

  “Of course,” she said in response to Kate’s request. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  It was early Wednesday afternoon, and Robin was glad for the interruption. She’d spent the last twenty-four hours deriding herself for allowing Amersen Beaudin to get into her head. Which made her even more determined to make sure he didn’t get into her pants!

  Foolishly, she carried his crumpled business card in her back pocket. Not that she intended on calling him. Not ever. But she didn’t want to leave it lying around the greenhouse or her own home. The best place for it was the trash. And she’d do that when she got home. With that decided, she left her office and quickly headed up to the main house and walked through the back door.

  Kate entered the room to greet her and suggested they go into the front lounge room.

  Robin lingered in the large foyer for a moment. “The tree arrives tomorrow,” she told Kate and waved a hand toward the staircase. “So I can start the Christmas decorations for you tomorrow.”

  “Okay, lovely,” Kate replied.

  “I know I’m running a little behind schedule,” she said. “The cypress I ordered wasn’t available in the right size, so I had to find another farm to get the—”

  “Robin,” the older woman said firmly, cutting her off, “I know you’ll have the house looking wonderful, just as you did for Thanksgiving, and for last year’s Christmas celebrations. Sterling and I have the utmost faith in you, and you never let us down. Now, come into the lounge.”

  Robin stalled. “Is everything all right?”

  “Perhaps you can tell me the answer to that.”

  Concerned, Robin followed her employer through the doorway and then stopped dead in her tracks. She hoped everything was okay. Kate looked serious, and that alarmed her.

  “Ms. Fortune, I’m not sure what—”

  “Perhaps you can explain this,” Kate said and waved her hand in an arc, motioning toward the long buffet beside the fireplace.

  Where she saw a pumpkin.

  The biggest and brightest orange pumpkin she had ever seen in her life.

  “It arrived half an hour ago,” Kate said and pointed to a box beside it that was wrapped in white paper and had a silver bow attached to it. “Along with this. And there’s a card with your name on it.”

  Robin approached the buffet and stared at the pumpkin and the box. She knew immediately, of course, that Amersen was responsible. The relevance of the pumpkin wasn’t lost on her. She fingered the bow on top of the box and then slowly lifted the lid, gasping when she pushed aside a couple of layers of tissue paper and saw what lay within.

  “Oh my goodness,” Kate said, peering over her shoulder. “Are those what I think they are?”

  Robin nodded and pulled her hand away. “Yes, I think they’re exactly what they look like.”

  Glass slippers.

  They were exquisite. She picked one up and held it up to the light, mesmerized by the way it shimmered. It was ridiculous. And at the same time, utterly romantic. Perhaps the
most romantic gesture of her life.

  “Are you planning on wearing them?”

  It was so ridiculous that Robin couldn’t stop laugher from bubbling low in her throat. “He’s out of his mind.”

  “He?” Kate echoed. “So you know who sent them?”

  She nodded and grabbed the card, pulling out a small square of cardboard and reading his dark, sexy scrawl.

  I’m not a prince... I’m just a man who knows what he wants. Have dinner with me?

  “Robin?”

  Kate’s voice jerked her back from fairy-tale land and forced her to regather her wits. “I’m sorry about this.”

  “Would you like to tell me what’s going on?” Kate asked.

  Robin sighed. “It’s Mr. Beaudin’s idea of a joke, that’s all.”

  The older woman’s frown disappeared, and then she chuckled. “Amersen, I see. Looks as though you made quite the impression.”

  “He thinks he’s too charming to resist.”

  “And is he?” Kate inquired, brows angled.

  “In his dreams, maybe. I’m really sorry about this,” she said, embarrassed and increasingly uncomfortable. She didn’t want her personal life intruding on her work. And she didn’t want Kate Fortune to think that she was in any way involved with Amersen Beaudin. “I’ll make sure nothing like this happens again.”

  Kate waved a hand. “There’s no harm done, Robin. Just...be careful, okay. By all accounts, Amersen has something of a wild reputation when it comes to women. I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

  Robin managed a brittle laugh. “Don’t worry about that. I have absolutely no intention of getting involved with him.”

  “Good,” Kate said and smiled. “Sometimes it’s easy to get swept up in romantic gestures.” She pointed to the slippers. “Although they are quite spectacular.”

  Robin nodded in a vague way. “I’ll ask Otis to help me get rid of the pumpkin,” she said, feeling ludicrous having to say such a thing as she snatched up the box and card.

  “It might make a nice Christmas decoration,” Kate said and grinned. “Or a pie.”

  Robin chuckled. “Good idea.”

  “And what girl hasn’t wanted a pair of glass slippers at least once in her life.”

  She couldn’t help laughing brittlely as she left the room and then got back to work. Later, once she had the pumpkin and the slippers stowed inside her pickup, it was close to one thirty. She always finished early on Wednesdays and was glad to be heading home by two o’clock. Once she was inside, she dumped the pumpkin on the kitchen table alongside the shoe box.

  And she seethed. She paced and cursed and muttered words she knew were usually heard in bar brawls. And she played with the business card twisting between her fingertips. He’d embarrassed her in front of her employer. And worse, he had made it impossible for her to not think about him every single minute of the day.

  Damn him...

  It was payback time. If he wanted dinner, she’d give him dinner. She’d give him a dinner he wouldn’t forget in a hurry. The kind of dinner that would make a womanizing, commitmentphobic man like Amersen Beaudin run a mile. Robin grabbed her cell and quickly dialed the number before she had a chance to talk herself out of her craziness.

  “Hello.”

  God, his voice was like being stroked along the spine with a feather.

  “Okay...dinner,” she said quietly. “But on my terms.”

  “Robin.” He said her name on a breath. “It’s good to hear from you.”

  “My place,” she said and swiftly rattled off the address, specifics and directions. “Four o’clock.”

  Then she hung up before he could reply. And before she lost her nerve.

  * * *

  Amersen was intrigued by Robin’s rushed request. And as he drove the BMW through a set of wide whitewashed gates and down the long gravel driveway later that afternoon, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so keen to spend time with a woman.

  Of course, logically, he knew he was being foolish. He’d come to Austin for business. Not pleasure. But hell would freeze before he’d miss out on a chance to see Robin Harbin again. Particularly on her turf.

  Still, he figured he was savvy enough to be able to mix business and a little pleasure without one overtaking the other. He had another meeting scheduled with Kate the following day and then a tour of the Fortune Cosmetics headquarters booked for the afternoon. He’d agreed to the tour only because he’d discovered that Graham Fortune Robinson was out of the city for a few days. He had no intention of meeting any of his half siblings while he was still considering Kate’s offer. There was time for that later. Much later. Maybe never. The more time he spent in Austin, the less inclined he was to dig any deeper into his family background. And since Gerald Robinson had never made any attempt to contact him, Amersen figured he was better off not getting involved any more than he already was.

  Which meant he had more time to concentrate on Kate’s business proposal.

  And Robin.

  He eased the car to a halt, recalling the directions Robin had confirmed via text message. She lived in the small cottage behind the larger house, which was owned by her parents. The ranch house was nowhere near as large and imposing as the Fortune estate, but the place was tidy and looked well cared for. Amersen got out of the rental car and locked the door. He heard a dog bark and looked around, spotting a lazy-looking yellow hound peering at him from the side of the barn. There were chickens pecking the ground and a few head of cattle grazing in the paddocks to the right of the main house. He walked up to the cottage and noticed a note pinned to the door.

  A. Meet me in the barn. R.

  He grinned. It was cute. She was playing with him, and he liked it. The dog watched him as he walked toward the barn and then headed through the doors. There were horse stalls on either side, and Amersen saw her the moment he entered. She stood at the end of a row of stalls, pushing hay into a net. Wearing jeans, a pale chambray shirt, a sheepskin jacket and her purple cowboy boots, she was undeniably sexy.

  “Have you ditched the limo?” she asked without turning, and he figured she must have watched him drive up to the house.

  Amersen moved beside her. “I generally like to drive myself around.”

  She looked sideways. “Texas is a big place. Don’t get lost.”

  He grinned. “I’m sure I could rely on you to come and find me if I lost my way.”

  She made a scoffing sound. “I think I’d just let you keep driving.”

  “You know,” he said softly, trying to ignore the way his palms itched with a sudden need to touch her, “I don’t really think that you would.”

  “That’s because you don’t know me in the least, Mr. Beaudin,” she shot back hotly.

  “I’d like to change that,” he said, feeling the heat off her body almost as though she were pressed against him. “And I thought we’d agreed you would call me Amersen.”

  She met his gaze levelly, and her mouth twitched. “Did we?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay... Amersen... I’m going for a ride. Care to join me?”

  “Horseback riding?” He looked around and saw there were two horses saddled and bridled and waiting in separate stalls. “You mean...now?”

  “Sure,” she said and grinned slightly. “Unless you’re afraid of horses...or can’t ride.” She shrugged her lovely shoulders. “But I guess I thought a man as talented and successful as you could do just about anything. Of course, you must correct me if I’m wrong. If there are things you can’t do, please, let me know.”

  There was pure, unadulterated challenge in her words. He glanced down at his pale gray business shirt, pressed trousers, suit jacket, hand-stitched Italian leather shoes and the wool Burberry coat he suspected cost more than she made in a month and t
hen looked back into her eyes. She wanted him to refuse, to back down. She had something to prove, and making him look like a whiny, first-rate fool was clearly on the top of her list.

  “Sure,” he said and smiled. “Why not.”

  Her blue eyes sparkled. “Really? You can ride?”

  He nodded. “A little. Let’s go.”

  For a brief moment, he wondered if he’d called her bluff. But the challenge in her expression returned quickly, and within minutes both horses were out of their stalls and tethered to a hitching rail outside the barn.

  “This is Blackjack,” she said and ran a hand down the neck of the tall chestnut gelding. “He’s all yours. Give him his head and not too much heel, and you should be fine.”

  “Should be?”

  “Even the quietest mount can be unpredictable.”

  Amersen nodded, acted dumb and took the reins from her. “Thank you.”

  She looked him up and down. “You know, you’re not exactly dressed for this. I’ll understand if you change your mind.”

  “I think we both know that a Stetson isn’t going to make a difference to my technique.”

  There was something oddly inflammatory about his words, and they both knew it. Amersen stared at her, feeling the awareness between them as though it possessed a life force of its own. He couldn’t quite fathom his reaction to her. He’d known countless beautiful women and had bedded more than he cared to admit to, but there was something about Robin that affected him on a deep, impossibly intimate level. And ego aside, he was certain they’d end up in bed together.

  She passed him a safety helmet that was propped on the fence. “You should wear this.”

  He glanced at the Stetson on her head. “I think I’d prefer one of those.”

  “Not on my watch,” she said and placed the helmet in his hand. “Don’t want to hurt that pretty head of yours, Mr. Beaudin.”

  “Amersen,” he corrected.

  She ignored him and headed back toward the stables, returning a few moments later carrying a pair of worn cowboy boots.

  “They are my brother’s but should fit,” she said as she passed them to him. “I’m the kind of girl who believes in protection.”