The Maverick's Virgin Mistress (Texas Cattlemans Club: Maverick County Millionaire Book 5)

by Jennifer Lewis

“Outside or inside?” He nodded at the wrought-iron tables and chairs that lined the slate sidewalk.

  “Definitely inside.” She glanced up and down the street like a fugitive. “I know it’s very unlikely Alex is anywhere near here, but…” She shrugged. “Humor me, please?”

  “I’d do anything for you.”

  The words rattled around his brain as he followed her into the darkest corner of the café and pulled out her chair.

  He couldn’t remember having feelings like this for a woman—ever. Usually all his devotion went into the family business, and his free time was spent blowing off steam.

  Right now, steam thickened in the air between him and Alicia. It hovered over the white, cotton tablecloth and wound around the wooden chairs. Wisps licked around their fingers as they both reached for the crystal pitcher of water in the center of the table, and their fingers—almost—touched.

  His palms prickled with the urge to run over the silky curves of her body. To strip off her soft white dress and watch her skin bead with perspiration as he drove her to new heights of bliss.

  This steam was a delicious torment, and he had no desire to blow it off at all.

  “Can you believe this storefront was originally built as a tea shop?”

  “I can. Our ancestors were mad about tea. I hear they started a war over it once.”

  Alicia smiled. “The Boston Tea Party happened at least a hundred years before this area was developed. Still, it’s reassuring to think that some things have stayed the same. We think we’re so advanced with our laptops and cell phones, but deep down, we enjoy the same things our ancestors did.”

  He’d finished pouring water for both of them and she picked up her glass and took a sip. “Has your family always lived in the Houston area?”

  An edge to her voice told him she was becoming increasingly curious about him. As well she might.

  “Actually they’re not from the Houston area at all. They settled outside New Orleans at the end of the Pleistocene Era and they’re still there today. Well, my mom is. My dad died three years ago.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Sorrow filled her big brown eyes.

  “It was a merciful release. He’d been sick for a long time. That’s when I took over running the family business.”

  “What kind of business is it?” She leaned forward.

  “Transportation. Did you see they have crumpets on the menu?”

  “Rick! You’re so mysterious. I’m beginning to be quite suspicious of you. What type of transportation?”

  “Ferrying goods from place to place. Container shipping. Very unglamorous, I’m afraid.”

  He glanced at the printed menu, hoping she’d drop the subject.

  Duprees and shipping went together like tea and crumpets. Yes, she had to find out who he was eventually, but he’d prefer to have it happen someplace private, as he expected her reaction might be…dramatic.

  “I think it sounds intriguing. So, you import and export goods from all over the world? That’s what Alex does.”

  “Other people import and export them—people like Alex—and they pay money to bring their goods on our ships. We just get the goods from A to B. We used to run everything out of New Orleans, but back in the fifties we moved most of our operations to Houston, which is why I work here.”

  He tapped his menu. “Hey, they’ve got quails’ eggs. I haven’t eaten those in years. I’m definitely having that. How about you?”

  Alicia’s eyes narrowed. Apparently, she was hip to his desire to change the subject. “I’ll have the egg salad. They make it English style with a dash of curry powder.”

  “A flash of heat just where you least expect it.”

  “Exactly.” Her plump lips slid into an enticing smile. “I know I’m feeling flashes of heat in all kinds of places I never expected.”

  Justin leaned forward. “And we’ve only begun to explore your erogenous zones.”

  He’d much rather think about Alicia’s erogenous zones than the illustrious Dupree clan.

  Her eyes widened and she glanced anxiously around the café.

  “Don’t worry. No one can hear us.” He should know. He was used to keeping his affairs private. He’d learned the hard way.

  They gave their orders to the friendly waitress, then Alicia leaned in close. “Is your mother lonely now that she’s a widow?” Concern filled her beautiful eyes.

  Justin startled at the deeply personal question. “Oh, no. She’s not the lonely type. Always busy with charitable activities, friends, that kind of thing.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. I always think it must be so hard to lose your spouse once your children have grown up and left home. Suddenly, you’re all on your own.”

  He stared at Alicia for a moment. His mother probably had never been all on her own in her whole life.

  There was a staff of five just inside the house, and at least another ten on the estate. Not to mention that his mother was a blur of motion. When he was little, he used to resent that she never invited him to sit on her lap for a story, the way mothers did in books. She was far too busy for that.

  Over time, he got used to it. Maybe that’s why he didn’t get all misty-eyed over the idea of family life. He’d never really had any. His father was at work all the time, or off participating in manly sporting pursuits.

  Quite possibly having affairs as well.

  His parents’ relationship was anything but romantic. He couldn’t imagine how they’d managed to conceive him. Perhaps some aristocratic breeding process involving frozen semen.

  “She must wish you lived closer.” Alicia tilted her head with sympathy.

  “Oh, I’m not so sure. I’d been away at school almost since I’d learned to read. If she was desperate to clutch me to her bosom, she’d have done it a long time ago.”

  “You didn’t grow up at home?”

  “Sure, I was there until I turned eight, or so. Then they decided it was time to get serious about my education. I did come home for vacations, though.”

  “That’s horrible! I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

  “It’s a family tradition. I went to the same school my father attended. The family estate is out in the country so there wasn’t really a school for me to go to there.”

  Not unless he’d attended the local public school—over his mother’s dead body. He suppressed a snort. The idea of a Dupree having a normal childhood was quite laughable.

  “Would you do that to your child?” Her face was tight with alarm.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.”

  “Never? Do you not want children?” She’d pulled back from the table, almost seeming to put distance between them.

  “Sure I do. I think.” He frowned. He truly had never thought about it. “I mean, everyone does, sooner or later.”

  Alicia stared at him like he’d grown alien antennae. “You’re thirty years old and you haven’t given a moment’s thought to starting a family?”

  “I’m busy with work.” Was that so odd? His crowd didn’t talk much about settling down.

  Well, not until lately. Suddenly, it was all the rage.

  Alicia must think he was some depraved party animal who never looked beyond that evening’s festivities. He frowned. “You’re right. It is strange. I guess I never met someone who made me think about it.”

  Until now.

  The words hung in the air between them.

  “You’re used to being alone.” She bit her lip. “For all I complain about Alex, I admit I’ve never really wanted to live alone. I’m used to having my family about me, small as it is.”

  “I could see how you worried about him being alone even for one day. I think that’s sweet.”

  What would it be like to have someone care that much about you?

  He’d been expected to fend for himself from a young age. Part of becoming a man. Or becoming a Dupree. It had never occurred to him before that those two things were different, that you could
be a man without being a distant, patrician father who wouldn’t kiss his son good-night in case it made him “soft.”

  “I think there’s a lot to be envied and admired about the close relationship between you and Alex. Kind of makes me wish I had a sister I could smother.” He shot her a mischievous smile.

  “Much as I complain, I know he just does it because he cares. He’s a big softy, really, underneath the gruff exterior. I bet you guys will get along great once you get to know each other.”

  “If you ever allow us to meet, that is,” he teased.

  The waitress set down their lunch and he watched as Alicia took a bite out of her egg-salad sandwich. She chewed thoughtfully.

  “You know what? Maybe it is time for you guys to meet.”

  Justin froze.

  “I mean, we’ve already been…intimate.” Her lovely complexion darkened a shade. “So, he can’t exactly forbid me to see you.”

  “He might just insist we marry before sunset.”

  Alicia giggled. “You’re so right. My honor is at stake.” She took a sip of water and flushed even darker. “But don’t worry. I don’t expect you to marry me just because you’ve claimed my virtue.”

  She was embarrassed, but turned on at the same time. Her dark eyes glittered and her lips and cheeks were flushed. Alicia Montoya was apparently much more interested in making wild and passionate love than in securing a big rock for her finger.

  There was something very reassuring—and totally hot—about that.

  She leaned in. “Come to think of it, I pretty much threw my virtue at you.”

  “You sure did.” His voice was husky, and his pants uncomfortably tight. “Lucky thing I’m a good catch.”

  “I was so upset when you didn’t try anything.”

  “It practically killed me not to. I had to take a cold shower that night. But after all you’d been through with the fire and the suspicion of arson, I didn’t want to take advantage of you.” He grinned at her. “I had no idea you were downright desperate to be taken advantage of.”

  He raised a quail’s egg to his mouth and flicked his tongue over it for a second before popping it in.

  Alicia’s eyes flashed. “I’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for.”

  “About ten years, I’d say. We’d better get cracking right after lunch. I’m going to take you to one of my favorite places.”

  Six

  Rick turned the car down a gravel drive and under the scrolled-iron arch leading to the Houston Bay Yacht Club.

  Alicia’s eyes widened. “I’ve heard of this club.”

  She patted her hair. She’d insisted on having the top down so she could enjoy the breeze—now she regretted the rash gesture.

  “Whatever you’ve heard, it’s not all that bad.”

  “Oh, stop it. This is probably the most exclusive yacht club in the world. Don’t some of the crowned heads of Europe dock here?”

  “Sure. Loads of kings and queens milling about. But we’ll do our best to avoid them.” He shot her a grin. “I come for the sailing, not the socializing.”

  “I guess that makes sense if you’re in the shipping business.”

  “A container ship has virtually nothing in common with a racing yacht, except that they both float on water.”

  “That’s a big thing. I’ve never been on a boat before.”

  She wasn’t sure if she was excited or terrified at the prospect of floating out on the ocean.

  “Really?” Rick turned to her, eyebrows raised.

  “I’ve never been on a cruise, or in a canoe, or even in a rowboat at the park. You probably think that’s pretty funny.”

  Manicured flower beds lined the drive, which ended at a small parking lot hosting an extravagant collection of luxury vehicles.

  “I think it’s great.” Rick’s smile broadened as he pulled into a space between an SUV the size of a WWI tank and a vintage Bentley. “Another of life’s grandest experiences awaits you.”

  He jumped out and hurried around to open her door. She couldn’t help smiling at the chivalrous gesture. “And I’d be delighted to show you the ropes, literally and figuratively.”

  “That sounds kinky.”

  “Good, it was meant to.”

  He guided her out of the parking lot and up some stone stairs toward an imposing clubhouse. But instead of leading her to the door, he took her elbow and ushered her around the side of the building, through a small garden, and down two more flights of steps to the marina.

  Alicia gasped at the sight of all those white boats bobbing like corks in the bright afternoon sun.

  “Choppy today,” said Rick cheerfully.

  Alicia’s stomach contracted.

  “Always makes it more exciting. Unless I’m trying to clock my best time, then it ticks me off.”

  “You race?”

  “Absolutely.” The light glinted off his dark hair as he squinted into the sun. “It’s a true rush to race someone else using only the power of the wind to propel you. That’s when you learn what you’re made of.”

  Alicia glanced about, suddenly aware of her heeled shoes. “What if I find I’m made of something that melts?”

  He slid his arm around her waist and hugged her close. “Don’t worry, I’ll lick you all up if you melt.” His hot whisper made her ear tingle.

  “You’re so bad!” She tapped his arm, which didn’t budge from around her waist.

  The sturdy warmth of his muscled embrace buoyed her confidence. “Hey, I always brag about how much I like to try something new. Here I am. Show me the ropes, sailor man.”

  They walked through the marina, past rows of gleaming yachts and speedboats, ranging in size from the tiniest dingy to luxury cruisers with brass-trimmed decks that looked like you could host a party of a hundred on them.

  Rick waved at two tanned preppy types winding a coil of rope on the dock of one of the boats, but he didn’t introduce her.

  Alicia glanced back at the clubhouse. Sun gleamed on the slate roof and illuminated the stone planters overflowing with yellow flowers. She was curious to see what the place looked like inside.

  Maybe Rick just wasn’t into the social aspect of things. Or maybe she wasn’t the type of girl he’d show off to his friends.

  A chill swept through her. She wasn’t some waspy princess with an Ivy League degree and a pedigree dating back to the Mayflower.

  Her heels clicked loudly on the decking. Rick marched ahead of her, the muscle of his shoulders flexing under his shirt, past millions of dollars worth of ocean-going hardware.

  She couldn’t shake a sudden, powerful feeling that she didn’t belong here.

  “Nearly there. I dock at the end of the marina so I can get in and out without getting stuck behind a bunch of Sunday sailors.”

  And maybe he wanted to get her on to the yacht and out of the club before anyone could figure out that she wasn’t one of them.

  Oh, Alicia, you’re being silly! Why look for the negative in this beautiful moment?

  So what if he wasn’t going to marry her and take her home to Mom?

  She wasn’t here for that. She was here to enjoy a beautiful afternoon with an exciting and thoughtful man, and to have a good time. Not to worry about what was and wasn’t going to happen between them in the future.

  “There she is.” He beamed and pointed at a long, sleek white boat with red sails furled against a tall mast. The letters TITAN III were emblazoned on the side in red.

  Alicia looked warily at the shiny white deck. “What happened to Titans one and two?”

  “Oh, they’re out there in little pieces somewhere. Luckily, I’m a strong swimmer.” A dimple appeared in his cheek as he surveyed her, laughter in his blue eyes.

  “You’re joking.”

  “Yes, I’m joking. I sold them when something better came along. I’m fickle like that.”

  And you’d do well to remember that, young lady, and not get carried away thinking about happily-ever-afters.

  H
er main goal—humiliating as it was—had been to shed her embarrassing virginity and have a good time doing it. If their relationship continued a bit longer and they had more fun together, so much the better.

  Right?

  “Ready to board?” He lifted an arm to help her up to the ramp that connected the boat to the dock. “You’ll want to take your shoes off when you get on deck. It can be slippery as the boat kicks up some spray once we get going. But don’t worry, there’s a rope to hang on to.”

  “Great,” managed Alicia, taking tentative steps up the stamped-metal ramp.

  She could swim, thanks to lessons under the stern command of Sister Benedict, but she’d never swum anywhere except a chlorinated pool, with no waves or undertow whatsoever.

  On the deck, she removed her shoes and handed them to Rick, who stowed them in a cubby.

  “Take a seat over there.”

  Alicia looked. The closest thing to a seat was a slippery-looking ledge. She sat down on the sun-warmed surface while Rick started unwinding rope and unfurling the sails. He tossed her a life jacket and she donned it with some relief.

  “I love to come out here,” he said cheerfully. “There’s no better way to shake off the petty concerns and stresses of the business world than to set out to sea with wind in your face.”

  The wind whipped the pale cotton of her dress against her skin, where it clung to her curves. Sunlight glistened off her legs and toasted her bare feet, while the water sparkled all around them.

  Beautiful.

  Finished with the sail, Rick unwound the rope tying them to the dock and pushed away from the ramp.

  Alicia watched, riveted, as he guided the yacht out into the bay using the tiller and movements of the sails, and a lot of taut and tanned muscle. The memory of those strong arms around her made her belly quiver as she saw him work.

  He was a very capable man with a surprising array of talents. She couldn’t help glowing with pride that of all the women in the world, he’d chosen to spend the afternoon with her.

  What did it matter if he didn’t want to introduce her to his yacht-club buddies?

  They were probably boring anyway.

  She turned her face to the sun and let it warm her. She’d been spending too much time holed up in the office lately. It was time to embrace new experiences and strike out in bold new directions.