Hot Texas Nights

by Janice Maynard

  He glanced at his watch for the millionth time. “Aria,” he bellowed. “We’re gonna be late. Where are you?”

  A small, quiet voice from the hallway behind him arrested his attention. “I’m right here, Ethan. You don’t have to shout.”

  Ethan spun on his heel and sucked in his breath. “Aria?”

  Fourteen

  Aria managed a small smile. “You were expecting someone else?”

  She was finding it a bit hard to breathe. As handsome as Ethan was in casual wear or work clothes or even a sport coat and tie, in formal evening attire he was magnificent. His shoulders were a million miles wide. His waist was trim, and his legs were long and masculine.

  Maybe this was why the Victorians invented smelling salts.

  She gripped her satin evening clutch. “I’m ready.”

  She could swear he paled when he saw her.

  He frowned. “Don’t you have a shawl or a coat or something?”

  The question was confusing. “It’s hot outside. And humid. I think I’ll be fine.”

  His gaze lingered on her cleavage. “You look stunning.”

  The compliment was almost grudgingly bestowed.

  “Thank you.” Disappointment threatened to dampen her excitement for the evening. She had expected him to snatch her up and tell her she was beautiful and that he couldn’t wait to kiss her and make love to her.

  Instead, he was acting as if her dress was a personal affront.

  He didn’t even take her arm as they exited the condo and made their way to the elevator.

  The concierge down in the lobby—on the other hand—had to pick his jaw off the floor when he saw her dress. Claude was an older gentlemen, seventy if he was a day. He shook his head with a twinkle in his eye. “That’s one fine dress, Ms. Jensen. You look like a movie star. Mind if I snap a selfie with you? The wife will get a kick out of it. She’ll read all about the TCC gala in the papers tomorrow.”

  “Of course not.”

  Ethan glowered through the entire episode.

  In the car, she snapped at him. “What is the matter with you? Poor Claude thought he had done something wrong.”

  “I’ll put an extra fifty in his pocket later tonight.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “I don’t like your dress.”

  The outright insult shocked her speechless for a moment. Then she recovered. “And I don’t really care. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m only a fake fiancée, not a real one, so your opinion means nothing to me.”

  “Are you even wearing anything at all underneath that getup?”

  When she shot him a sideways glance, she saw that his hands were white-knuckled on the steering wheel and his neck was bright red above the collar of his shirt. His jaw was granite.

  “Don’t worry,” she said wryly, skirting the issue. “I won’t embarrass you in front of your mom and John.”

  “They won’t even be here,” he said tersely. “They left this morning to visit a sick friend in San Francisco. They’ll be back tomorrow night.”

  Aria gaped at him. “Then we don’t have to pretend to be a couple.” The news should have relieved her. And it did. Of course it did. Putting on a show before them had made her feel horribly guilty.

  “Aren’t you forgetting about Harmon Porter?”

  “I don’t even care about him anymore. He wouldn’t confront me in such a public setting. We can drop the act.”

  “You seem awfully eager to break our engagement,” he growled, jerking the wheel to avoid a car that had slammed on its brakes right in front of them.

  The avoided collision shook Aria back to her senses. “I don’t want to fight with you this evening, Ethan. It’s an important night for the new club. We should keep our personal business out of this.”

  She had been so happy and excited, and now the day fell flat. Why could the two of them never seem to get things right?

  Without warning, Ethan pulled into a dimly lit parking garage two blocks away from the hotel where the gala was being held. Surely he didn’t expect them to walk from here. Her stiletto heels were almost four inches high.

  He lowered the window, took a ticket and found several empty spots in a deserted section of the concrete tower. With the engine running and the A/C still pumping out cold air, he shoved the car into Park and turned to face her.

  “I have to know something,” he said.

  She sniffed and stared out the windshield. “I’m not answering the underwear question.”

  “Funny. Very funny.”

  “Then what?”

  “When we get home tonight, what do you think is going to happen between us?”

  “How should I know? You disappear for hours at a time. First you want me. Then you don’t. I’ve got emotional whiplash.”

  “I told you before that you’d have to initiate sex because I don’t want there to be any hint that we’re exchanging sex for your father’s two-point-five mil.”

  “I remember. But for the record, I’m pretty sure that nothing I know how to do in the bedroom would be worth that amount anyway, so it’s a moot point.”

  “That dress makes me crazy.”

  His brooding admission sounded accusatory at best.

  “I didn’t buy this dress for you. I bought it for me. And I think I look pretty damn good. So you can take your stupid opinion and go stuff it.”

  It was a great retort, a scathing comeback. Too bad it wasn’t true. Of course she had bought the dress for Ethan. Every woman in love wanted her man to think she looked beautiful and desirable. Aria was no different.

  Apparently, she had badly miscalculated. Now, the only thing to do was try to save face.

  Without warning, he unfastened his seat belt and leaned across the low console. “Do you have extra lipstick in that tiny purse?”

  She cocked her head, wondering if he had gone round the bend. “Um, yes, but what—”

  “Good.” His mouth slammed down over hers, stealing every ounce of oxygen from her lungs. His kiss was raw. Desperate. Perhaps even lacking in technique.

  Aria clung to his shoulders, moaning low in her throat. He tasted good. And he felt even better. She strained against him. “Ethan...”

  “Shhh.” He kissed her harder, his teeth bruising her lips. “We do better when we don’t talk.” His hand slid inside the bodice of her dress, palming her breast.

  His droll comment amused her, but she couldn’t catch her breath long enough to actually laugh. She unbuttoned two buttons on his shirt and touched hot male skin. “Do we have to go to this party? I can think of lots better ways to entertain ourselves tonight.”

  He shuddered and rested his forehead against hers, his chest heaving. “Don’t say that. Even in jest. I want you right now.”

  “I’ve never had sex in a parking garage. Do you think it’s against the law?” She put her hand on his taut thigh, her fingers dangerously close to the large bulge beneath his trousers. “You do have tinted windows in the back.”

  “Stop. I mean it. Stop.” He pulled back, wild-eyed. “How long did it take you to get your hair up in that fancy knot thing?”

  She grimaced. “Too long for you to mess it up.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.” His grim disappointment was comical.

  “You don’t really hate my dress at all, do you?” she said.

  His dark-eyed gaze seared her. “What do you think? The part I hate is knowing that every other man at that party tonight is going to be lusting after you.”

  “I think you’re overstating the case. All the women will be dressed up. But I appreciate the compliment.”

  He ran his finger from her collarbone down the shadowy valley between her breasts, all the way to where the vee of her dress finally came to a halt. “You have no idea how truly magnificent you are. You
never have.”

  Aria wrinkled her nose. “Let’s talk about something else.” His praise made her uneasy.

  “Okay.” He nodded slowly. “How about the way I want to strip you naked later. But wait. I can’t. You have to ask me first.”

  She smothered a grin unsuccessfully. “I’m not sure you understand the rules of this passive beta-male approach. But then again, I don’t have any complaints so far.”

  He cupped her face in his big, slightly rough palms. His eyes glittered with emotion. “I have never wanted any woman the way I want you right now.”

  Her stomach quivered. His sexuality was a living, breathing force between them. She wanted to melt against him and never let go.

  But even in the midst of madness, some latent sense of self-preservation reminded her that nothing had changed. Ethan Barringer was not a man who could be pinned down by any woman. He didn’t believe in everlasting love. He didn’t want her devotion or her heart.

  “I want you, too, Ethan. Really I do. And if we didn’t have responsibilities, I’d say to heck with this party. We’d climb in the back and act like crazy teenagers. But you’re in charge of the entire renovation, and I’m the one who has to make sure the new club runs as smoothly as the TCC in Royal does, so our personal wishes can’t be front and center tonight.”

  No matter how much she wanted to see him naked again.

  He glanced at the digital clock on the dash and cursed. “You’re right. Of course.” The admission was made grudgingly. Stiffly. As if it had been dragged out of him.

  Aria was no less disappointed, but she thought it best not to wear her heart on her sleeve. It wouldn’t hurt for Ethan to wonder about her. She’d fallen into his arms and into his bed far too easily. Yet he hadn’t wanted to keep her for his own. Maybe it was time to show him she wasn’t some plaything he could pick up and put down when the mood struck him.

  She straightened her dress while Ethan moved back into the driver’s seat. He didn’t say another word as he shot out of the garage and merged into the stream of traffic. At the hotel, they had to wait their turn to drop off the car with valet parking.

  Already, despite the fact that Ethan and Aria were early, a stream of elegantly dressed men and women were making their way inside.

  “So why is Ryder Currin hosting this gala tonight?” Aria asked. “I’ve been meaning to ask you that.”

  Ethan tapped the gas and inched forward, keeping his eye on the pedestrians. “My personal guess is that he’s making a big splash to show he should be the first president of the new club.”

  “That’s what I thought. I can’t begin to imagine how much this is costing. The ice sculptures. The fresh flowers. Musicians. And that’s not even talking about the food and the venue.”

  The gala was being held in one of the largest ballrooms at one of the premier hotels in the city. The guest list was a veritable who’s who of Houston society, plus a sizable contingent of men and women from Royal. If Ryder Currin was hoping to score points in his battle with Sterling Perry, this event was a great way to start.

  At last, the car was taken off their hands, and Ethan and Aria were able to head inside. Ethan took her elbow as they ascended the steps. His firm grip made her skin tingle.

  Aria had been completely correct about the dress she bought. It was far from being the most outrageous frock present. The female guests’ attire ran the gamut, from conventionally restrained to wildly flamboyant. Her gown’s daring style fell somewhere in between.

  As soon as they entered the ballroom, several people demanded Ethan’s attention. He shot her an apologetic look as he dove into one conversation after another. She smiled wryly, not at all surprised. Ethan would be president of the TCC one day in the future, she had no doubt.

  His charisma and charm, combined with a reputation for trustworthiness, made him a logical choice. Even as young as he was, many people deferred to his opinions and wanted to do business with him.

  After making a few strategic contacts of her own, she scanned the room, trying to mentally name as many of the guests as she could. As she began setting up membership files for the new club, it would be extremely helpful if she already knew names and faces.

  The key players were in attendance, of course. Sterling Perry was holding court in the center of a semicircle of younger men who appeared to be hanging on his every word. Now that Ryder Currin had staged his splashy event, surely Sterling would have to come up with something similar if he wanted to stay in the race for president.

  Just as Aria was wishing Ethan wasn’t quite so far away on the other side of the room, a familiar voice called her name.

  “Aria! You look fabulous.”

  Aria turned and saw Abby and Brad Price bearing down on her, both of them smiling widely. She hugged them both. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen you.” A decade older than Aria and Ethan, Abby Langley Price was both gorgeous and a power broker in her own right. She had been one of the first women admitted into the Texas Cattleman’s Club in Royal, and had mentored Aria over the years, particularly when it came to this new venture in Houston.

  The tall, striking redhead waved a slender arm. “Isn’t this amazing? Ryder has outdone himself.”

  Her husband rolled his eyes. “Come on, darlin’. You know this is a game. Sterling will have his day in the sun.”

  Abby sniffed. “Sterling Perry is all flash and thousand-dollar shoes. I can’t imagine why you defend the man.”

  Aria chuckled. “Have I walked into the middle of a marital fight?”

  Brad shook his head. “Not at all. We’re just like everyone else, wondering who will end up being president. I know there’s bad blood between the two men from a long time ago, but I don’t know why. No one really talks about it.”

  “They have been recently,” Aria said. “I kept hearing snippets of gossip at the ground-breaking. Do you think it’s all an attempt to stir up trouble?”

  Abby nodded. “Makes sense. Sometimes you have to ruffle a few feathers to get what you want.”

  Her husband kissed her temple, his smile indulgent. “And that’s why you’re dangerous, my love.” He grinned at Aria. “I see a buddy of mine I need to talk to. Try to keep my hotheaded wife out of trouble while I’m gone.”

  * * *

  Angela Perry smoothed the skirt of her ice-blue gown and frowned when she realized her palms were damp. This was ridiculous. Just because Ryder Currin was in the room.

  She’d been eyeing him unobtrusively for half an hour now. The rags-to-riches oil baron was the center of attention tonight, a charming host with an appealing smile and a contagious laugh. Twice married with three grown children, Ryder was the kind of sexy that would never fade with age.

  And he had mentioned having dinner with her.

  Life was short. Angela had learned not to wait for things to come to her. Instead, she went after what she wanted.

  Tonight, that was Ryder.

  She cooled her heels until there was a lull in the crowd at his side. Then she pinned on a confident smile and approached him. “Ryder. Wonderful party. You’ve outdone yourself.”

  When he turned and his eyes flashed navy with heat, that hot gaze raked her from head to toe and made her feel naked. But just as quickly as it had kindled, the lustful look was gone.

  His smile was conventional. “Angela. You’re lovelier than ever tonight.”

  “Thank you.”

  She felt gauche suddenly. And unsure of herself. Had she imagined the jolt of attraction between them? He had done it to her again. Made her doubt. Made her wonder.

  “Your father seems to be enjoying himself,” he said.

  Ryder’s laconic sarcasm drew a smile from her in spite of her discomfort. “He hates that you thought of this fund-raising gala idea before he did, but of course, he had to be here. Who knows how he’ll
retaliate.”

  “Oh, well,” Ryder said, “it’s all for the good of the new club.”

  “Ryder...” Her heart was lodged in her throat, making it hard to breathe.

  He shot her a sideways look, tinged with impatience. Or was it something else? “Yes?”

  “You mentioned having dinner with me.”

  For a moment, she knew she had gotten through to him. He looked flummoxed at first, then uncomfortable, and lastly—most definitely—interested. “It’s a very busy time,” he said, his gaze scanning the room as if he was looking for someone.

  She put a hand on his arm. “I was glad you asked me. It sounded like fun. I’m free next Friday. What do you say?”

  When she touched his arm she felt him stiffen. His entire body seemed to freeze.

  And then he took a step backward, causing her hand to fall away.

  Her stomach knotted.

  Ryder’s jaw tightened. He didn’t quite meet her eyes. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Angela. Sterling wouldn’t like it, and I won’t tiptoe behind his back.”

  She should have walked away and preserved what was left of her pride. But her disappointment was such that she had to push back. “I don’t understand,” she said quietly. “It was your idea. Remember?”

  The muscles in his throat worked. His hands fisted at his sides. “I may have mentioned it,” he said. “But if I did, it was one of those things people toss out in conversation. A social nicety.”

  Her temper sparked. “You’re saying you accidentally mentioned having dinner with me? Good Lord, Ryder. I know you’re fifty but I didn’t think senility had set in.” She lowered her voice. “I could have sworn you were attracted to me. Was I wrong?”

  He turned to face her, his hands jammed in his pockets. His gaze seared her. “Drop it, Angela. We both know it’s a terrible idea. We’re the Hatfields and the McCoys. Romeo and Juliet. You get the picture.”

  Ice filled the space where her heart had beaten a moment ago. “No,” she said carefully, trying not to let him see how much he had hurt her. “We’re not feuding enemies. And we’re not doomed lovers. Apparently we’re nothing at all. Excuse me, Mr. Currin. I have other guests to see. Friends. Neighbors. People who aren’t spineless bastards.”