One Texas Night...

by Sara Orwig

  “We get back on an impersonal basis, or I eat dinner elsewhere,” she threatened.

  “We can do whatever you want,” he said, stepping away. “But sometime soon we’ll do what I want. We could make a wager on that one. A wager I would win.” He turned to walk toward the bar. “What would you like to drink tonight?” he asked, stepping behind the bar to face her. “We have everything. Fully stocked. What’s your pleasure?”

  His transformation had been far swifter than hers. She still burned with desire and struggled to think of business and to get Jared out of her thoughts. She wanted to return to a purely business relationship, wanted to maintain an impersonal one tonight. “I’ll have a piña colada,” she said, naming the first drink that came to mind.

  She climbed onto a bar stool to watch him mix drinks. His well-shaped hands moved with efficiency, stirring her memories of his hands on her body, her legs, moving over her, creating magic. Inhaling a shaky breath, she shifted her attention to the swimming pool with a waterfall and three fountains. All except the pool were dry, turned off since the mansion was no longer lived in, she assumed.

  “Are you busy with jobs like this one all the time?” he asked.

  “Not at all. We have sales. There’s always inventory to keep track of, billing, office stuff. If I have a chance, which is rare, I spend time studying antiques, their history, the different styles of furniture, art history. I’m amazed by how much my dad knows. This is a fascinating field,” she said, thinking the most fascinating thing in her life at the moment was the tall, dark-haired man she faced.

  “So you like what you do,” Jared said, coming around the bar to hand her a drink while he held his. “Let’s go sit where it’s a little more comfortable,” he suggested before she could answer him.

  “Yes, I love this work. Sloan will never go into this line of work, but I want to help my dad and help grow the business,” she replied as Jared directed her toward a grouping of outdoor furniture. When she sat, he pulled his chair close, turning slightly to face her.

  He raised his drink. “Here’s to success,” he said.

  She had to smile. “I’ll drink to that,” she said, raising her glass and taking a sip. “Even though you didn’t specify what endeavor you had in mind with this toast.”

  “Care to try to guess what’s on my mind?”

  She laughed. “I don’t think so. I’ve told you what I want. What do you want in your future?”

  “Made you laugh. That’s good,” he said. “What do I want in the future?” he repeated. “In the near future—tomorrow night—I want to take you to dinner.”

  “Thank you, that would be nice,” she said, deciding not to fight him at every turn.

  “‘Nice’ sounds a little dull.”

  “‘Nice’ sounds absolutely perfect to me. A simple dinner out.”

  “Good. Half past six. We’ll go early because I’m anxious.”

  She had to smile again. “I doubt if you’ve been ‘anxious’ over a woman since you were ten years old.”

  “You may have the wrong impression, which hopefully I’ll change.”

  “I don’t believe you need to give one second to that endeavor. It’s unnecessary,” she said. Wanting to change the subject, she steered their talk back to their work. “As far as the furnishings are concerned, so far, the oldest piece I’ve found in this house is a sixteenth-century chest.” He evidently caught on to her intention, because he couldn’t hide a smile.

  “Let’s forget the inventory and business for the evening,” he said. “In a way, we know each other intimately. In another way, we barely know each other at all. I know your family. Your brother is my best friend, and your dad has worked with me on two projects. But you are a mystery. Besides the business, what do you want in life? You’ve told me that you like the business and want to see it grow, so I assume you’ll stay in it as long as it’s successful.”

  “That’s right. At least that’s what I plan now, and Dad needs my help,” she replied, aware Jared gave her his full attention. “I want to marry, have a family, lead the same kind of life I had growing up. Isn’t that what you want?”

  “I like life’s challenges. My dad did, and maybe that’s where I got that need. I watched him spend a lifetime putting off the risky things because he was a husband, a dad, a businessman with a growing company. Then when he could retire and do the things he had dreamed of all his life, his health was gone and he couldn’t do any of the adventures he had postponed. It was sad. He was filled with bitterness and regret,” Jared said, his gaze shuttered as if looking back into the past. “I lost Mom two years before Dad. I don’t know if she had things she wanted to do that she’d never done. She never said.”

  For the first time Allison didn’t think she had any of his attention. She wanted no part of the lifestyle he craved, but she could understand a little better his reasons for choosing it.

  “My brother never felt that way, yet he used to do some of the things you do.”

  “Sloan has a zest for life. He did things and satisfied himself about them, and now he doesn’t live that way. He’s settled. His choice. That’s better than the way my dad lived, filled with regret. I don’t want that to happen to me. I want to do all those things while I’m young.”

  “Even though it means you’ll stay all alone in life?” she asked. “You might be missing out on the best parts of life and will have as many regrets later as your dad, just different regrets.”

  “I don’t intend to be alone all my life. As for a family for me? I see that sometime in the distant future. I have things I want to do, and it’s better to be single to do them. At least that’s what I think. Climb Mount Everest, for one. Look how Sloan’s life has changed since his marriage. Your brother has dropped out of the rodeo circuit. At one time he wanted to climb Everest with me. He’s out of that now. Your brother is a family guy, which is good for him. I’m just not there yet.”

  “That’s an honest answer,” she replied.

  “And I’d like to do more with salvaging. I’ve already explored two sunken ships and brought up artifacts that are in museums, and some treasures that are in my own collection. I’m sure you know that’s when I worked with your dad. Salvaging is my most fascinating pursuit, and I’d like to spend more time doing it.” He sipped his drink.

  “And I’m still riding the rodeo. In fact, I’m riding in one in Ft. Worth soon.” He put his drink down and leaned toward her. “Go to the rodeo with me. You used to go with your family to watch your brother.”

  She moved back impulsively. “Thank you, but I’ll be in Dallas and back in my world by then. When I leave here, we won’t see each other again. It’ll be like the past six years. We each have our own lives.”

  “It’s just a rodeo, Allison. You weren’t this skittish with me before,” he observed.

  “Life’s different now. Before we were at a party. I wasn’t on a job. I worry about my dad and don’t want to be away long periods of time or cause him any worry.”

  “Your dad isn’t going to worry because you’re watching me in a rodeo.”

  “He might worry because I’m out with you.”

  Her words seemed to have no effect on him. He persisted, “I doubt if Sloan has painted such a dark picture of me to your dad.”

  “I know he hasn’t, or Dad would have never sent me on this job. My dad thinks you’re a fine person. Sloan keeps those warnings about you for me—only since he found out I’m taking this job.”

  “I’ve worked with your dad, too, remember? We got along great.”

  “I’m sure you did.”

  “Your dad has always been nice to me.” He sat back, his drink in his hand again. “You think about the rodeo. For now, tell me about all the furniture. What happens after you’ve tagged it?”

  She went over the process once again, describing t
heir work in detail, all the while conscious of his total focus.

  They talked through dinner, through watching the sunset and finally they moved inside to talk more about various topics.

  She had relaxed at last, finding him fun to be with, and she could see why her brother was close friends with him.

  It was one o’clock in the morning when she finally told him that she had to turn in. He walked her to her suite, pausing outside her door.

  “Good night, Jared,” she stated. “Dinner was great, and it’s been a nice evening. You know, I could work in the evenings, too, and get finished sooner.”

  “No, no, you should have some time off. There’s no big rush on this. You’ll get it done.” He smiled at her. “I enjoyed tonight, too. I’m looking forward to tomorrow night,” he said in a deeper voice.

  Her heart beat faster. He stood close, his gaze drifting slowly over her. She wanted to look at his mouth, to lean closer and press her lips to his. She could all but taste his kiss. “Tonight was enjoyable. I’m sure I’ll see you in the morning,” she said, turning, expecting his hand to touch her any minute. Instead he merely stood there while she entered her suite and closed the door.

  Disappointment enveloped her despite knowing it was best they did not kiss. Her lips tingled. Her skin was hot, prickly with wanting him. She should be relieved they were sticking to business. If only her body would get that message.

  Three

  Sleep was long in coming. And when it did, it was filled with so many dreams of Jared, Allison felt relieved to wake and see the room filled with the gray light of dawn.

  She showered, dressed in pale yellow slacks and a matching shirt and went down to breakfast. Before she reached the bottom of the stairs, Jared appeared. He had been swimming. Bare chested, wearing black-and-white swim trunks with a towel over his shoulder, he paused to look up at her and her breath left her; her heart thudded against her ribs.

  Instantly memories bombarded her—his broad shoulders, his sculpted chest, his body of hard planes and muscles. Recalling her mouth drifting over him, her hands exploring, touching, his body against hers... The visions came like tormenting ghosts. Her mouth went dry, and she forced in a deep breath.

  She was afraid he could hear her heart pounding. “Morning swim?” she asked, her words little more than a whisper.

  “Yes. I swim every morning that I can. Even though the fountains and waterfall are turned off, I’ve kept the pool heated, cleaned and treated. Hereafter you can join me. I didn’t think to tell you last night.”

  “Thanks, but I’m not a morning swimmer. It has to be very hot weather to drive me to swimming.”

  “Then you’ve changed. I seem to remember you in the pool every time Sloan and I would swim at your house.”

  “It just seemed that way because in your eyes I was a nuisance back then,” she said, making an effort to keep her gaze on his face and not look at his naked chest again.

  He grinned. “I don’t ever recall saying you were a nuisance.”

  “Actually, you just paid no attention to me. I might as well have not existed.”

  “And now look at you—not a kid anymore and not the least bit a nuisance,” he said, his gaze drifting slowly over her and making her warm from head to toe.

  “I’m going to get breakfast. I’ll see you later,” she said, and then dragged her eyes away as she strode past him.

  He placed his hand lightly on her arm and she looked up sharply. His faint touch triggered more scalding memories. In her peripheral vision she was fully aware of how close he stood, how little he wore. “I’ll be there as soon as I shower and dress,” he said. His words were harmless; his deep tone was not.

  The pounding of her heart was loud in her ears. Nodding to Jared, she went down the stairs. At the foot of the steps, against good judgment, she glanced back. Standing at the top, he looked down at her. He turned, giving her a glance at his smooth back that tapered to a narrow waist, his firm butt and long muscled legs. Every inch of him embedded itself in her memory.

  She couldn’t help but want this job to be over quickly so she could return to her quiet life. But just a glance at Jared in all his half-naked glory had her hot, riddled with desire. She could have an affair with Jared, couldn’t she? But that was all it would be. An affair. An affair that would, ultimately, break her heart. He would never be serious—about her or any woman. He’d said as much just last night when he had listed all the wild, adventurous things he wanted to do. She told herself that even one night with him was a risk she didn’t want to take. But then she remembered his kisses—and she realized Jared Weston was temptation personified.

  She shook her head as if to dislodge the threatening thoughts and walked into the kitchen.

  The ultramodern kitchen boasted dark granite countertops, stainless-steel appliances, a polished hardwood floor, dark cabinets and crown molding. Someone, she noticed, had already made coffee, and a pitcher of cold orange juice was on the counter.

  She busied herself washing blueberries, washing and cutting strawberries. She turned to find Jared standing in the doorway.

  “You have a way of quietly appearing,” she said, trying to ignore the buzz her system experienced at the sight of him.

  “Just watching you work,” he said, coming into the kitchen. Her mouth became dry as he crossed the room to take the knife from her hands and place it on the counter. His tight jeans and navy knit shirt stretched against his sculpted muscles, giving him a more sensual appearance. As she looked up, she was barely aware of what he was doing because she was lost in his green eyes.

  “Go sit and I’ll do this,” he said, without making a move to do anything. He stood too close to her, and their locked gazes made her pulse drum.

  “I can help with breakfast,” she said, her voice sliding to a whisper. She looked at his mouth and remembered his kisses. “Jared,” she said as she realized she was moving slightly toward him and—

  She caught herself just in time before she did something she’d regret. She moved away quickly. “You go right ahead,” she said, turning to sit at the oval oak table. When she faced him, she was surprised to find him standing where she had left him, still watching her.

  Even as he stood there without moving or talking, his dynamic presence seemed to fill the room. Desire was tangible, electric.

  Finally he broke the moment. With a flick of his eyes, he turned to wash his hands.

  His back to her, she looked freely. Her gaze ran over the length of him, remembering how he had looked only a short time earlier when he had worn just swim trunks.

  “This is ridiculous for me to sit and watch. Let me help you.” She got up and went back, this time careful to keep a safe distance between them.

  She poured two cups of coffee and placed them on the table. She returned to get glasses for juice. Before she realized it, he had hemmed her in, placing his hands around her on the counter. “Go sit and relax. I’ll get breakfast.”

  “You’ve got to stop doing this,” she said.

  “What? Fixing breakfast?” he asked, his gaze moving to her mouth. She could barely breathe.

  “You know what you’re doing right now,” she whispered. “We can’t get close to each other without—”

  “Without steam rising,” he finished, meeting her gaze again.

  “We weren’t going to get personal. I can’t. I’m on a job, and I don’t want to go home and send my dad here, because he’s not physically able to do this any longer. Jared, cooperate. Keep in mind I want marriage in my future. That ought to cool whatever you’re feeling.”

  She gazed into inscrutable eyes that held hers captive.

  “I don’t want you unhappy,” he said.

  “If we stick to business, I won’t be.”

  “I’m having some trouble with that.”

&nbs
p; “Then...think of Sloan. Anything.”

  At the mention of her brother, Jared stepped back a fraction. “The last thing on my mind right now is your brother,” he said in a raspy voice.

  As Jared stepped farther away, she also put a few feet between them. She should feel relieved. But her heartbeat still raced, and she wanted to go back to flirting with him, to kissing, to making love again.

  She moved automatically, getting dishes to set the table, pouring juice for them while he scrambled eggs. She dropped bread into the toaster, but her thoughts were still on Jared, her gaze running down the length of him when his back was turned. Desire shook her, and vivid images tormented her.

  She promised herself she would work as efficiently as possible to get this job wound up so she could get away from the temptation.

  Finally she sat across from him, too aware of each brush of their fingers as they passed dishes back and forth until they both had plates with toast and fluffy scrambled eggs.

  “I’ve been thinking about it, and what I’d like to do is take you to see my homes in Dallas and Wyoming, and then you can help me decide what to put in them. How about that?”

  Surprised, she paused, lowering her orange-juice glass to the table. “Once again, I’ll say that’s out of my area of expertise.” However, she couldn’t help thinking how much more her family business would make if she did what Jared was asking.

  She hedged, saying, “I think for a task like that, you need a professional decorator.”

  “I don’t want a decorator. I want your opinion on these old things. You know what’s valuable and what isn’t. You’ll know where furniture and art will fit and where it won’t. And by fit, I mean look right. You have good taste, or you wouldn’t be in this business.”

  “But that’s all it would be. My taste. My opinion.”

  “I understand, and that’s what I want. I trust your judgment on this.”

  “You don’t even know me, and you’ve never seen where I live. You don’t know my tastes.”

  “Yes, I do. I know Sloan. I know your dad. I know what the house you grew up in looks like. I have great faith in you on this matter.”