by Helena Ray
A very pleasant and sexy surprise greeted him at the door. “Well, hello, darling,” he said as he leaned down to kiss Robin.
She returned his kiss with less than stunning enthusiasm. She stormed into the middle of the room. “How on earth do you do it?” She crossed her arms and glared in Bryant’s direction.
“Do what?” He closed the door, genuinely befuddled by Robin’s sudden fury.
“Stand Alexander!”
“I thought you two were getting along, honey. You know there’s nothing I’d rather see than the two of you—”
“He’s an oversexed pig! He thinks that just because he looks like a fucking matinee idol, he can go around doing whatever he wants to innocent young girls. Well, not this one!” She fell on Bryant’s bed with an overdramatic sigh.
Shit. Bryant knew exactly what had happened. Al always did this when he couldn’t contain himself or his feelings. On the one hand, it was a good sign. Al only pulled the overbearing sex fiend act on women he couldn’t get out of either of his heads. On the other hand, it had scared off more than a few women Bryant would have liked to have gotten to know better. He had really, sincerely hoped that Al could let that go just this once. He wanted Al to feel that way about Robin, and he knew that deep down, Al did.
Bryant moved to comfort Robin. “Look, whatever he did, he didn’t mean it. That’s just the way he acts when he can’t get a woman off his mind.”
Robin moved out of Bryant’s reach. “Can’t get how much he hates a woman off his mind, maybe.” She crossed her arms, and her face set into a pout.
“Believe me, he’s really coming around to you. And that’s all I want, baby.”
“All you want? I thought you wanted me.” Robin gasped and covered her mouth as if she hadn’t meant to admit her feelings so fully to Bryant.
“I do want you, honey, but I can’t give you everything.” Bryant had known this conversation was coming. He had dreaded it, but the time had come to deliver his ultimatum. He sat on the edge of his bed and stared at his feet, unable to look Robin in the eye.
He felt the bed dip behind him as Robin sat up and put a hand around his shoulder. Even in her fury, she was an angel of comfort and solace. Goddamn it, why did she have to make this harder?
“Yes you can,” she purred in his ear. “You’ve already given me more than I have the right to ask for.”
Bryant gulped in a breath of air, steadying himself for the coming blow he would land on the minx curled behind him.
“No, I can’t, honey.” He turned to face her. She leaned her face toward his, but he placed a hand on her shoulder to hold her back. The warmth of her brown eyes gazing questioningly into his just made this harder. “But Alexander can.”
Robin’s face dropped. “No, no, he cannot. I want him nowhere near my love life.”
“Then you want me nowhere near your love life.”
Silence hung in the air between them as Bryant watched Robin comprehend his words. The look of pain that finally etched across her delicate features tugged at his heart. He hated doing this to her, but he knew it was the only way he could ever get the two of them to settle their differences.
“Bry.” Robin lifted a hand to his cheek. “What exactly are you saying?”
“Al and I are a package deal.” He made certain to articulate his next words very carefully. “If you want to be with me, you have to be with him, too.”
He felt sick to his stomach at the look she gave him and had to restrain himself physically from gathering her small body into his arms. Damn it, why couldn’t Robin and Al just set aside their differences? And why was he the only one that could see how brilliant a relationship between the three of them could be?
All trace of emotion fell away from Robin’s face, and she took on a very businesslike countenance.
“Then I have work to do, Bryant.” He could see a sheen of tears at the edges of her wide eyes.
“Robin, it doesn’t have to—”
“I have work to do,” she reiterated as she turned to the door. “I trust that you’ll leave me alone to do it.” With that, she strode out of Bryant’s apartment, slamming the door behind her.
Bryant’s face fell to his hands. This hurt, no doubt, but it was what he had to do. Even through the pain, he knew it would be worth it the first time he and Alexander claimed Robin together. He just hoped that time came soon. Very soon.
Chapter 8
That afternoon, Robin had escaped into downtown Male Order to avoid dealing with the pain of walking out on Bryant like that. Luckily, she happened to stumble into Luscious, Male Order’s local beauty salon. While waiting for her mani-pedi, the locals took an interest in her. When she introduced herself as Robin Lawrence, the women all started chatting away with the gossip that had already spread through town. Apparently, her and Bryant’s behavior at Alexander’s little get-together had hardly gone unnoticed.
Most of her prodding came from Aurora Compton-Blanc, the owner of Luscious and an aging beauty who had retained her looks. She chatted away about her own marriage to two men, but that did nothing to ease the knot growing in Robin’s stomach.
Greta McCall, owner of the Wet Lotus yoga studio, also relished the dish session with Robin. She was married to three men fifteen years her junior and was the textbook definition of a cougar. Her seductive and wild ways endeared her to Robin instantly.
However, she most connected with Veronica Ewing, the wild and unmarried owner of the Boom Boom Room, Male Order’s finest speakeasy, and Beverly Cullen, the introverted single mother with a no-bullshit attitude Robin appreciated.
After a little coaxing on their part, Robin had agreed to accompany them later that evening to a country dance hall in a small town just outside Male Order. Some time away from the mansion sounded like a good idea to Robin, and she figured chatting with some of Male Order’s most prominent and influential residents could only be beneficial to her work.
That, and she needed a drink.
* * * *
“Here we are, ladies! Prepare for the delicious feast of cowboy meat!” Greta pulled her BMW into a dirt parking lot next to a rickety old building. A vintage bus sat rusting next to the entrance, and a flickering neon sign advertised that they had arrived at The Twirling Lasso, Home of the Finest Country Dancing in the World. Robin exited the car dubiously. A hokey cowboy-themed tourist trap would probably not pull her out of her terrible mood. Greta, Aurora, and Beverly tittered excitedly as they hurried toward the entrance, apparently oblivious to Robin’s still-sullen state.
Robin felt a warm arm wrap around her shoulders. “Don’t worry, honey.” Veronica’s face was warm and supportive. “Male Order is a rough place to be, especially if your pretty little wagon’s hitched to that spoiled prick Alexander’s.” Robin cracked a smile at the insult. “See, honey? At least you’ve got sympathy.”
“I’m just tired. I need a night off from the lifestyle.” She laughed at her own words. “Please, no more champagne!”
Both women dissolved into giggles, and Veronica gave Robin a quick hug.
“Now let’s go drink some beer and dance with some cowboys!” That was an idea Robin could get behind.
When they entered the dance hall, Robin realized this was no tourist trap. A wide dance floor occupied most of the space, and rickety card tables covered with red-checkered tablecloths were jammed in the corners. Even more impressive were the dancers themselves. That sign wasn’t kidding. Robin watched in awe as people from all walks of life danced the Texas two-step in a circle around the dance floor. Some were just learning the iconic Texan dance, but some were masters of the art, twirling around the floor in intricate patterns as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
The most impressive, though, was the way that everyone under that low ceiling interacted. Strangers asked each other to dance, and groups sat laughing in the corners, drunk but as friendly as can be. Even though she had never seen such a place, Robin felt immediately at home.
The gir
ls hadn’t been kidding about the delicious cowboys, either. Everywhere she looked, she saw tall, muscular men that looked like they’d just come from a long day of herding cattle on the range. Each one of them sported tight jeans that cupped their work-tightened asses and the black Stetsons that always drove women wild. Robin’s attention was drawn to a table in the corner. Two of those perfectly formed cowboys sat with two older men sporting trucker hats and beer bellies. One of the cowboys said something, and the entire table erupted in laughter, knocking two beers over in the process and increasing the hysterical convulsing of the men at the table.
This was what rural Texas was supposed to be, Robin thought. People not giving a shit about wealth and status and just drinking beer while they dance. Nothing like the pretension she had to endure day after day in Male Order, especially from her least favorite wealthy heir. Why did Bryant have to make their relationship contingent on her feelings toward Alexander?
Aurora interrupted Robin’s admiration of the men at the corner table by wrapping her arm through Robin’s. She turned Robin toward the bar across the room and pulled her in that direction. “Come on, dear. All of us have agreed that you need a couple of drinks tonight.”
The women had chosen a table right on the dance floor, filling their sight with nothing but the men and women gliding gracefully past them in their denim and cowboy boots. As Greta delivered a pitcher of Lone Star Beer and a stack of plastic cups to the table, the women all exchanged nervous glances. Why their enthusiasm had turned into unease was beyond Robin. Instead, she concentrated on having a drink and enjoying the ambiance of the evening.
After the live band played a few covers of classic country songs, an older man approached the table and extended his hand to Robin. “Care to dance, gorgeous?” Robin glanced at her table companions, and they nodded their wholehearted approval. She took the man’s hand, and he led her to the center of the dance floor. Although she hadn’t two-stepped since her elementary school gym class, her dance partner coached her through the dance and relaxed her with his easy conversation and copious compliments.
While she was dancing, she noticed the two sexy cowboys that had been entertaining the locals earlier. One of them was executing an intricate maneuver with a perky young blonde. The other was trotting around the floor with an elderly woman half his height. Each time he turned her out, she visibly swooned, giggling like a schoolgirl at the cowboy’s attention.
The dance ended, and Robin’s partner bowed to her. She curtsied in response and began ambling back to her companions. She noticed the older man kissing Veronica’s hand and escorting her onto the floor. The crowd shifted, and the sexy cowboy and his elderly partner now blocked Robin’s path back to her table. She stopped to watch as he bowed deeply in front of his partner and landed a kiss on her cheek on his way up. His attitude exemplified everything good and friendly about a place like this, and Robin couldn’t help but stand watching him as he escorted his partner off the floor. He straightened and removed his Stetson, revealing a mess of brown curls. He extended to his full height and glanced around. Robin’s heart stopped beating.
Alexander Abrams.
Here! Here in middle-of-nowhere Texas, Alexander Abrams was dancing with little old ladies! It had to be an act. Robin wondered what sort of charity he was performing by associating with his inferiors. This probably fulfilled some other part of his fathers’ will. Of course. The Alexander Abrams she had come to loathe would never deign to visit this dance hall without being legally bound to do so.
After standing in disgusted awe, marveling at the sight of Alexander in such an establishment, Robin ducked quickly through the crowd and weaved a convoluted path back to her table. She didn’t think Alexander had spotted her. Doubtless he would have some objection to her presence if he found her here.
Her consternation must have been obvious on her face. All of her companions rushed to console her.
“Don’t you think a thing about him, sugar.”
“Just pretend he’s not here.”
“There’s plenty of juicy, hunky cowboy fish in this sea.”
Each one patted Robin’s face or arms as they delivered their assurances, but Robin was not as distraught as she was confused. Why was Alexander here? Even if it were in his fathers’ will, did he have to dance with that little old lady while his friend pawed at the petite blonde? Did he have to entertain the old men in trucker hats at his table?
As the women each took their turn around the dance floor, Robin quietly watched Alexander. Everyone in the dance hall seemed to know him. When he was at his table, men and women alike came to greet him, and he gave each a tight hug and a beaming smile. That gentleness Robin had seen in Alexander when she spied on him from the hayloft was on full display here. He made his way through all the tables, asking nearly every woman in the bar to dance, regardless of age or appearance. And the strange thing was he appeared to be having the time of his life. His face glowed with happiness as he took each woman around the floor, not a shred of his trademark pretension in sight.
He lifted a small girl in the air and spun her in a circle. This elicited a delighted giggle, and the girl threw her chubby arms around Alexander’s neck. After placing her back on the floor and bowing to her, Alexander made his way across the dance floor to the area where the women from Male Order were seated.
He spied them and made his way in their direction. Oh god. Robin felt her heart sink to her stomach. She didn’t know if she could handle another confrontation with Alexander. One traumatic, sexually charged incident was enough for one day.
He stopped in front of Aurora and bowed, removing his black Stetson. “Why, I do declare, Mrs. Blanc, if you get any more beautiful, I’m gonna have to steal you from those husbands of yours.” Aurora blushed and waved a hand in his direction.
“Oh, you stop it,” she said.
“You don’t have to stop it with me! You can come right on into my ménage.” Greta’s laugh was high-pitched, and it drew Alexander’s startlingly warm gaze to where she was seated. Next to Robin.
His eyes fell on Robin, and neither of them spoke for a long moment. His face froze, no longer relaxed and open like before, but not hostile and domineering like it had been earlier. Robin silently prayed that she would never be subjected to his earlier ire again.
Alexander took a deep breath, and his beaming smile once more illuminated his face. The glow it brought to his hazel eyes made Robin’s heart do a backflip.
“Well, well, well,” Alexander said as a mischievous grin spread across his face. “You ladies have been holding out on me, hogging Male Order’s newest bachelorette to yourselves.” He looked at Robin questioningly. “Enjoying our humble dance hall, Ms. Lawrence?”
God, he was handsome when he wasn’t playing the role of the spoiled-rotten former heir. She had never noticed that his lips were so deliciously full. His flush from a night of dancing turned them to a deep shade of red that made Robin wonder what they would be like to kiss. What the hell. She was too exhausted from a day of conflict, misery, and fear to worry about hating Alexander Abrams right now.
Deciding she would play along, Robin batted her eyelashes and ratcheted up her light Texas accent. “Why, Mr. Abrams, this establishment is just peachy.” She followed her comment with a smirk and was shocked when Alexander failed to take the bait.
“Well then,” he said, bowing down and beginning to extend a hand. He looked at Robin questioningly for a moment. She gave what she hoped was a conciliatory smile, and Alexander fully reached out his hand. “How about you do me the honor of dancing with me?”
Robin tore her gaze from the ruggedly handsome man in front of her and looked to her table companions. She caught all of them raptly watching her interaction then glancing away and feigning innocence. Robin took a deep breath and looked back at Alexander waiting expectantly. What did she have to lose?
“Why, sir, of course,” she said in her thickest Southern accent as she took Alexander’s hand. She turned back to
her friends. “I’m gonna take a turn around the dance floor. I’ll be right back.”
“Bon voyage!” Greta waved her hand excitedly. The rest continued their play of indifference, but as she stood and walked hand in hand to the dance floor with Alexander, she heard them tittering away behind her.
Alexander led her to a spot in the center of the dance floor. “They’re quite a bunch, aren’t they?” he said once they reached their destination.
“They are, indeed. I didn’t even want to come here, after what happened today and—” The sensation of Alexander’s hand on the small of her back silenced her.
“Shh.” He took her right hand in his left. “Let’s not talk about that tonight.” He pulled her into an enthusiastic dance to the fast country waltz the band played. Robin felt herself let go a little. No matter what she thought of this man, her job necessitated getting along with him. Maybe their dance here in the hall plopped in the middle of a cow pasture would finally smooth out their relationship. The number drew to a close, and Alexander spun Robin out, then back against him.
“Thank you.” Her smile was completely genuine. “That was great.”
The band began playing a cover of Patsy Cline’s “Crazy,” and Robin moved to return to her table. Alexander thwarted her plans when he tightened his grip around her waist. “One more, Ms. Lawrence?” She made the mistake of looking into his hazel eyes that, shockingly, dripped with sincerity. She had expected that same charming, seductive act he pulled on her when they first met, but his eyes didn’t have the same steely glint they did then. Now, she only saw genuine interest in those eyes, and she couldn’t help but melt into his grip.
“One more, Mr. Abrams.” He pulled her against him as they began to dance. The difference in their heights meant that her head rested against his chest. She inhaled Alexander’s scent. While Bryant smelled sweetly of leather and horses, Alexander smelled clean and crisp with a hint of spicy musk. They were certainly different, but Robin found that contrast exhilarating. She tilted her head upward and found him staring down at her.