Hot Texas Nights

by Janice Maynard

  He was furious. She had impugned his honor.

  “I thought...” She trailed off, too embarrassed to say it, and yet heartsick at the notion she had ruined things between them.

  “You thought what?” His features were carved in stone.

  “I thought you wanted me.”

  For a moment, his face went blank. It was like that night they met at the diner all over again. When she had thrown herself at him later in the evening, and he hadn’t responded.

  Muttering beneath his breath, he banged his head against the steering wheel. Then he glared at her. “Are you trying to drive me insane?”

  She swallowed. “No.”

  Ethan closed his eyes and scrunched up his face. It seemed like he might have been counting to ten. Or a hundred. Finally, a huge sigh lifted his chest, which then fell on the exhale. “Okay, honey. Here are the ground rules. First and foremost, I want you. I will always want you. But because of this damned kerfuffle with your father and Harmon and the money, I absolutely will not put the moves on you. The only way you and I are ever going to end up in bed again is if you want me enough to initiate sex. You’ll have to seduce me, not the other way around. And you’ll have to convince me that it has nothing to do with guilt or obligation—that you want me to take you hard and deep and fast because we’re both mad with need for each other.” He stopped and dropped his chin to his chest. Then he looked at her again. “Those are my terms.”

  * * *

  Ethan’s control was fraying. Having Aria here—so close—made him hungry to touch her again, to pull her beneath him and bury himself in her feminine heat. He’d been celibate since they were together.

  Work had been hell, but it was more than that. He couldn’t bring himself to slake a physical need with some nameless female when all he wanted was the one woman he couldn’t—shouldn’t—have.

  In a way, maybe the two-point-five mil would keep him from doing something morally wrong. He had used the money to save Aria from a stupid ass. How ironically terrible would it be if he himself broke her heart?

  The fake engagement had been a spur-of-the-moment idea, a way for Aria to think she was giving him something in return. It was actually a good idea, maybe even a great one. If his mom and stepdad believed he was working on the idea of starting a family, it would pacify them and buy him some time, at the very least.

  Later, he could tell them the engagement didn’t work out.

  What bothered him now was how very much he didn’t want to leave Aria, how very much he didn’t want to fly back to Houston. One of his defining characteristics was his total devotion to his career, his complete ability to focus on a project until every detail was complete. But not recently.

  For the last few weeks in Houston, he’d barely been able to sleep at night. Many days, he’d found his attention wandering during meetings with contractors and suppliers. He’d even forgotten an appointment once and been late to a couple of others.

  Only one person was to blame. He carried her scent in his brain. He could swear the feel of her soft skin was imprinted on his fingertips. His bed felt empty when it never had before.

  He had always known this could happen. It was the reason he had stayed away from Royal for big chunks of time over the years. Once Aria had crossed the divide from being a funny, adorable kid to a beautiful, desirable young woman, he’d been in trouble. The only option had been to keep a healthy distance between them.

  Now he was taking her under his wing and under his roof, because the other choices were unacceptable. Harmon Porter might try to spread malicious gossip about Aria to protect his own reputation. Ethan wanted to be close enough to know if anything went south.

  He had spent most of his life protecting Aria from harm. He wouldn’t stop now. Even if he was the person most likely to hurt her.

  It occurred to him that Aria hadn’t made so much as a peep after he gave her his big speech. He rolled his shoulders. “Did I sound like a jackass just then? If so, I’m sorry.”

  She leaned forward to adjust the heat vent, giving him a tantalizing view of the nape of her neck and the beautifully feminine curve of her spine. The dress she wore plunged almost to her waist in the back.

  At last, when she was satisfied with the stream of warm air, she sat up and gave him a faint smile. “You were very clear,” she said. “Crystal, in fact. No sex unless I come begging.”

  His sex tightened. Was she doing that on purpose? Taunting him? Making his gut tighten with hunger? “I should go,” he said reluctantly. “I’m on the last flight out.”

  Her gaze was wistful and perhaps mischievous. “Couldn’t you change it?”

  There was no doubt now. The little minx was playing with him. Torturing him, truth be told.

  “I’ve already changed it once,” he said, trying not to let her see how she affected him.

  She frowned. “Why?”

  “I heard rumors you were going to marry Porter. I had to find both of you and stop things before he told the whole world you were engaged.”

  Her eyes widened. “I never meant to cause you so much trouble.” Aria put her hand on the door handle. “It’s late. You should go. Good night, Ethan.”

  She had shifted from laughter to angst in the space of a heartbeat. “Wait, stop,” he said, grabbing her arm in a firm but gentle grip. “Don’t beat yourself up over this. So I changed a flight. It’s no big deal.”

  Her expression was unreadable. “It is to me.”

  He tightened his jaw, forcing himself to release her. “It’s what friends do,” he said lightly.

  Aria opened her mouth to speak and closed it again, mute.

  He cocked his head. “What?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Are we friends, Ethan?”

  “Friends come in all shapes and sizes.” He was trying to reassure her. Or maybe convince himself.

  “Why did you have to tell Harmon we’re engaged?” she asked quietly, her blue-eyed gaze searching his face. “You could have just repaid the money. Now it’s complicated.”

  “For men like Porter, everything’s a competition. He staked a claim. I stole you from him. It had to be that way. Otherwise, he’d still be insisting you were his woman, money or no money. Besides, I told you the truth. I do need a short-term fiancée, especially for the party next week. To deflect my mother from trying to marry me off. You’re doing me a favor, Aria.”

  Her smile was wry. “Nice try, Ethan.” She stared at him so long the back of his neck began to prickle.

  Women were damnably hard to read sometimes, but he was dead certain he knew where Aria’s mind had gone at the moment. The sexual tension that swirled around them in the small enclosed space was enough to make his mouth dry and his gut tighten.

  He’d told her he wouldn’t make a move on her. Because of the money. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t telegraph his desire. Without moving his body so much as an inch, he looked her over. From her wary blue eyes to her glossy pink lips to the shadowy valley between her breasts. He let her see the full extent of his hunger.

  Aria caught her breath. Slowly, she leaned forward. “Thank you, Ethan,” she whispered. “Thank you for tonight.”

  And then she kissed him.

  He forced himself not to respond. At first. She had couched this contact in the context of gratitude. He didn’t want her thanks.

  His hands fisted on his thighs. The urge to take her in his arms was almost overpowering. But he held his pose, letting her do all the work.

  If the kiss had been nothing more than a sweet, swift salute of lips to lips, he would have been fine. But seconds into it, Aria muttered something low and urgent and starting kissing him in earnest.

  Lightning flashed between them. Her tongue teased his, sliding into his mouth with disarming confidence. Her arms curled around his neck. Her tiny clutch purse fell, unheeded, to the floor of the truck.


  That was all the invitation Ethan needed. He slanted his mouth over hers and took the kiss deeper. He had wondered if what happened seven weeks ago had been a fluke. Or an exaggerated memory. Apparently not.

  His heart raced in his chest so hard he could barely breathe, much less think clearly. He wanted Aria. Now. His sex ached, hard and ready. Her dress was little barrier at all. He slid one strap down her arm, then palmed her bare breast, thumbing the rigid tip, reveling in the way Aria moaned her pleasure.

  He was seconds away from lifting her skirt and taking her right there in the truck when reality intruded. They were parked on a very public street in front of Aria’s house. Even worse than that, he had promised himself he wouldn’t let her come to him out of gratitude.

  Her body gave him every indication that she wanted this as much as he did, but the timing was suspect.

  He couldn’t take that chance.

  Reluctantly, he released her. “I need to go,” he said.

  Her gaze was cloudy, befuddled.

  His hand shook as he straightened her dress and covered her breast. He swallowed hard. “Are you going to be okay?”

  She blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “Harmon.”

  “Oh.” After a moment, she nodded. “He’s angry. I can deal with that.”

  “I’ve never heard anything really bad about him, but we embarrassed and infuriated him tonight. Some men can’t let a moment like that go without evening the score.”

  Aria nodded a second time. “I know you’re right. I’ll be careful, I promise.” Then she smiled. “Ethan?”

  “What?” Something about the way she looked at him made him uneasy.

  “You say you wouldn’t be good in a relationship, but I think you’re wrong. Yes, you’re a workaholic, but when it matters, you show up for the people you love.”

  The breath left his lungs. There it was again. The trap. The danger. And all because he had stepped in to keep her from marrying Porter.

  He had three choices.

  He could ignore her comment and just watch her step out of the truck.

  He could put a selfish spin on his actions.

  Or, more painfully, he could begin his campaign to make her see how wrong it was to paint dreams about the two of them together.

  Though the last one was the cruelest, it was likely the most effective.

  He leaned back against his door and donned a sardonic smile. “Why do women always do that?” he said, injecting amused tolerance into the words. “So I happened to be in a place to help you out tonight...so what? It doesn’t mean we’re soul mates. And if we share a bed, it still won’t mean we’re soul mates. I can’t be any clearer than that.”

  The words threatened to stick in his throat.

  He watched as they found their target.

  All of the animation and pleasure leached from her face, leaving her expression dull and wounded. She stared at him for so long, he nearly broke. He nearly caved.

  Then without a word of accusation or a goodbye, she grabbed her purse, opened the door of the truck and fled.

  Eight

  Aria leaned back in the plane, her gaze drawn to the Houston skyline out the tiny window. For the last five days she’d buried herself in work. It was the only way to get through the time that followed Ethan’s departure for Houston.

  She would have called off the plan to stay at his condo but for two things. First of all, she had promised to pose as his fiancée, and second, Harmon was giving her the creeps. He made a point of walking past her office at the club several times a day. Even more irritating, his name had suddenly—and at the last minute—popped up on the guest list for the ground-breaking party. That had to mean something.

  He was probably hoping to keep an eye on her interactions with Ethan. As uncomfortable as it was going to be to sleep under Ethan’s roof, at least it would legitimize the fiction that she and Ethan were engaged.

  The irony was painful.

  She and Ethan had not communicated at all since he’d dropped her at her doorstep, except for a tersely worded text about the car service that was about to meet her at the airport.

  When her flight from Royal to Houston landed, the driver who picked her up briefed her on her itinerary. He took her to Ethan’s building, where the doorman escorted her upstairs, unlocked the condo and showed her to the guest suite.

  After an hour and a half, during which she ordered a snack, showered, and changed into her party clothes, the same driver returned to take her to the new TCC site. At first, she had been confused as to how they could have the ground-breaking party right there at the building when the construction was barely underway, much less completed. But Ethan had explained that the original hotel had a small ballroom on the main floor that would remain structurally intact.

  Professional decorators had redone the flooring and walls and lighting, but none of that had taken huge amounts of time. The refurbished ballroom would offer tonight’s guests a taste of what the new Houston club would look like when it was finished.

  Despite a measure of excitement about the day’s festivities, Aria was conflicted about the prospect of seeing Ethan again. His casual dismissal of her feelings had left her shaken and hurt. Nevertheless, she had taken great pains with her appearance. If necessary, she would hide behind a smile.

  If he was determined to keep their relationship on a superficial level, she would be foolish to push for anything more.

  Fortunately, from the moment she arrived at the new club site, she was both swamped with responsibilities and surrounded by people. Her trickiest task would be diverting Sterling Perry and Ryder Currin to opposite corners.

  Not one but three different board members had pulled her aside during the past week and warned her how important it would be to keep the two men apart.

  Both Sterling and Ryder had been, and continued to be, instrumental in establishing the new TCC Houston. They had both donated huge sums of money to the new club, and it was no secret that both men were vying for control. But only one man could be the president.

  About ten years ago, a group of business leaders—former University of Texas frat brothers—had banded together to form a Texas Cattleman’s Club branch in the Houston suburbs. But it had gotten off to a rocky start. Ongoing tensions and rivalries, even a sabotage plot against one member’s oil refinery that resulted in another’s imprisonment, had taken their toll. So by the time the worst tornado in Royal history hit in 2013, the Texas Cattleman’s Club outpost in Houston had quietly disbanded.

  Now Sterling Perry and Ryder Currin saw their chance to revive the Houston branch right in the heart of the city. But once again, a fierce rivalry was making the launch more difficult than it should be.

  Despite the underlying disquiet, the weather had cooperated for such an auspicious occasion. Blue skies and balmy temps combined for the kind of Houston afternoon that tourists loved and natives lived for. The sun, beaming down on the back of Aria’s neck, was hot but not unbearable. She had worn her hair up in a knot in hopes of keeping cool.

  She stopped by the table near the entrance to the gardens, where guests were checking in. A trio of high-school-age young women was checking names off and handing out name tags. Their volunteer hours would look good on college applications. Aria greeted them, thanked them and moved on to the next item on her list. Meanwhile, she scanned the growing crowd for her two VIPs, who had yet to appear.

  The ceremonial shovel-in-the-dirt ground-breaking was to take place in the rose garden shortly before five. Then everyone would make their way into the ballroom and enjoy heavy hors d’oeuvres. Even as Aria mixed and mingled, she kept an eye out for Ethan.

  Her nerves were jumpy. She told herself it was because he wanted her to put on a show for his parents. That was the least of her worries, though. Far more difficult was the challenge of pretending that sh
e wasn’t getting drawn into his orbit. Even knowing she wanted things from him that he wasn’t willing to give, she still felt the pull of his sexuality and his masculine charm.

  She glanced at her watch. In another ten minutes, she was going to have to make some phone calls to track down her missing VIPs.

  * * *

  Ryder Currin strolled among the crowds of well-wishers with a wide smile on his face. In fact, he couldn’t seem to stop smiling. He had waited for this day a very long time. Finally! A branch of the venerable Texas Cattleman’s Club in Houston. And all because he himself had worked his ass off to make it happen. He had lobbied the members of the Royal club long and hard until everyone saw the benefit of extending the group’s powerful reach as far as Houston. Not too shabby for a kid who had, once upon a time, been a scrawny, dead-broke, no-account, lowly ranch worker.

  He shielded his eyes from the sun with one hand and scanned the throng. His son, Xander, was there in the distance, but the twenty-five-year-old didn’t have a date. He was hanging out with a bunch of his guy friends. Ryder had just about given up hope that his son would ever find another real relationship after his fiancée died. Ryder understood grief and loss, but he wanted Xander to be happy again.

  With an inward sigh, Ryder let his gaze move on. All the usual suspects were in attendance today. Including one very beautiful female in her late thirties. Noticing the tall, slender woman robbed him of his smile temporarily. Every time he saw Angela Perry, something about her tugged at his heartstrings.

  It wasn’t attraction. It couldn’t be that. For one thing, he was too old for her. At fifty, he was eleven years her senior. Maybe the odd feeling in his gut was nothing more than nostalgia. Years ago, he and Angela’s mother had been friends at a time when each of them had badly needed a friend.

  He shook off the unsettling thoughts, and after making sure Sterling Perry was nowhere in sight, approached Sterling’s eldest daughter. Actually, there were two of them who claimed that title. Fraternal twins. Angela and Melinda. Melinda resembled her sister, except that her hair was wavy.