- -
- 100%
- +
The man didn’t relinquish his hold on her, but he did allow room for her to turn toward her sister.
“Is Des coming?” Kit asked, all the while doing some sort of dance that amazingly fit the music.
Kit’s red hair was flying; her green eyes were sparkling. Her arms were in the air, and her hips and feet were moving in a way that not only looked incredibly sexy but made Tess feel a tinge of envy that Kit could move so uninhibitedly. Kit’s partner was someone she didn’t know, but from the looks of his jeans, Western-cut shirt and boots, she guessed he might be a new hire at the family ranch.
“I don’t know. Des didn’t RSVP.”
Kit came to an abrupt stop, though her partner didn’t seem to notice and kept on dancing. “Des couldn’t be more exasperating if he tried, and I sometimes suspect he does.”
“You got it.”
Tess knew that Kit’s aim in bringing one of the ranch hands to her party and dressing like she had almost every day of her life since she’d gotten out of diapers was to flout tradition and embarrass her sisters. But what Kit didn’t realize was that she looked better in her jeans and T-shirt than half the women at the party whose dresses had come from Neiman Marcus. And a cursory glance at the crowd showed her that at least three of her single friends and two of the married ones were openly salivating over Kit’s date.
Kit hooked her thumbs in her pockets and flashed Tess’s dance partner a smile that revealed a perfect set of dimples. “Who’s your date, Sis?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea.”
Kit’s eyebrows rose. “Cool,” she said, her tone for once sincere. Then she danced away.
The man laughed, a deep chuckle.
Drawing away from him, she looked at him. “Is there some reason you won’t tell me your name? Like maybe you’re at the top of the FBI’s Most Wanted list?”
“No.”
“Then tell me.”
He shrugged. “The thing is, I doubt my name will mean anything to you.”
She exhaled a long breath, reaching for patience. “Why don’t you let me decide that? I’m tired of this little game you’re playing. Tell me or I’m going to walk away.”
A slow smile spread across his face, this smile even more powerful than his last. “Ah…a threat from the birthday girl.”
She refused to be affected by his smile, though she could feel the futility of her resistance as it slipped by the moment. “Are you or are you not going to tell me?”
“Nick Trejo. My name is Nick Trejo.”
The name sounded vaguely familiar, but for the life of her, she couldn’t place it. “Okay, you’re right. It doesn’t mean anything to me.”
“I didn’t think it would.”
“Uh-huh. Okay. Let me try another tack. How did you know about this party tonight?”
“I’ve made it my business to find out as much as possible about you.”
Suddenly cautious, she stared at him, wondering if she could figure him out if she stared at him long enough. But no. He wasn’t giving anything away—not by expression, and certainly not by words.
“Don’t worry. I’m not a stalker.”
“No? Then, Nick Trejo, I think it’s past time you told me what you want.”
“That’s easy,” he said, pulling her against him while his amber gaze held steady on her. “I want peace on earth, food and shelter enough for every living being, but right now I’m satisfied just to be dancing with you.” His voice turned raspy. “You feel good against me. You fit me.”
One minute he had her regarding him with caution, the next he had her melting with heat. And she couldn’t very well protest or say she didn’t understand what he was saying, since from the beginning of their dance, her body had involuntarily molded itself to his and there had been nothing she could do about it.
One song had stopped. Another had begun. An intimate cloud of music settled around the party and mingled with the night’s scents to mesmerize, tantalize. But it all paled in comparison to him.
“Did I tell you that you look beautiful?”
She couldn’t remember if he had or not. In fact, she was having trouble remembering anything. It was as if he had taken her over, body, mind and soul. She wasn’t used to being called beautiful, and she certainly had never thought of herself that way. Not with Jill as a sister.
Abruptly, she tore herself from his arms. “I need something to drink.”
“It’s your party,” he said mildly. “I imagine you can have anything you want.”
“You’re right.” Fully aware that he was following her, she threaded her way through the dancers, a smile pasted on her face for her friends, but barely acknowledging their comments.
“A shot of whiskey with a beer chaser, please,” she told the bartender as soon as she reached the bar. It was a unique request for her, but tonight she felt the need for something stronger than her usual beer. She glanced at Nick. “What would you like?”
“Since I’m not an official guest at the party, I wouldn’t presume.”
She gave a short laugh. “More than you have already, you mean? Give me a break. You’ve already crashed the party. What’s one drink?” She glanced at the bartender. “Give him the same thing, please.” She couldn’t see a man like Nick Trejo drinking anything else, certainly not the margaritas that were flowing more freely than water tonight.
Nick shook his head at the bartender, then returned his gaze to her. “I hate to tell you this, Tess, but I truly haven’t yet started to presume. Believe me when I say you’ll know when I do.”
Jill walked to the bar. “A margarita, please. Tess, have you heard anything from Des since we last talked?”
“No.” She’d been dealing with Nick, trying to retain her mental balance while she played his guessing game. At the same time, she’d been fighting to keep her body from completely betraying how much she had enjoyed being held against him. And it had all taken more out of her than she had realized, leaving her with zero patience for Jill and her preoccupation with landing Des.
“Okay.” Jill threw an assessing gaze at Nick, then at her. “I think I’ll try to locate him by phone.”
“Fine. Do that. And be sure to mention how much I’ve missed him tonight.” Even though she knew Jill would ignore her request, she’d thrown it in to nettle her sister.
For the first time in what seemed hours, she forced herself to draw a deep breath and look away from Nick. A quick assessment of her party showed her that it was going strong, but she caught several surreptitious glances from some of her closer friends, and she knew why. They’d never before seen her allow one man to monopolize her time as she had with Nick. Except there had been no allowing on her part. He was like a force that she had no defenses against. It was past time she rectified that.
The bartender placed her requested shot of whiskey and mug of beer in front of her. She picked up the whiskey, but sipped.
“Okay, Nick, I’m ready to admit it. You’ve got me completely baffled. Why on earth do you want to see me and why here? If it’s about business—and it must be, since we haven’t met before tonight, and you’ve assured me you aren’t a stalker—why didn’t you simply call my office and make an appointment?”
“Let’s step away from the bar,” Nick murmured, taking the shot glass from her and setting it on the bar. Then, with his hand at her elbow, he led her to a less populated area of the terrace. And she went with him, telling herself it was because she was curious and not because she couldn’t refuse him.
When they reached a corner of the terrace where a profusion of sweet-scented Maid of Orleans star-flowered jasmine grew, Nick turned to her. “I tried for weeks to get an appointment with you, Tess, and couldn’t get one.”
“Who did you talk to?”
“Your assistant, Ron Hughes. Actually, I spoke with him on almost a daily basis, but he would never put me through to you or even give me an appointment. He kept insisting you had no time to see me.”
She shrugged. “Well, that’s true. My schedule is always packed, especially lately, with the details for my new offshore venture.” Normally she wouldn’t tell someone who was practically a stranger the reason she was busy, but something told her Nick already knew the reason. Her curiosity grew stronger. “Still, I notice Ron couldn’t stop you from getting to me.”
“That would have been hard for anyone to do.”
She could only stare. If he’d looked amazing with the sun surrounding him, he looked astounding by moonlight. The moon’s silver light threaded its way through his sun-streaked hair and touched his bronzed skin, cooling down his coloring—in a way, gentling it. Perhaps someone less suspecting than she would, at first glance, think him tame.
She knew better.
The moon might be offering him camouflage, and at the moment he might be masterfully controlling his innate power, but his amber eyes still held the intensity that earlier that evening had been able to reach across the terrace to her. She had no doubt that, if he chose, he could sear layers from her skin with just a glance.
“What’s so important to you? What did you tell Ron you wanted to see me about?”
His gaze was level, his tone assured. “I wanted to ask you to stop your drilling as soon as possible.”
She couldn’t help it—she laughed. “No wonder he turned you down. Such a request is preposterous.”
A muscle jumped in his cheek. “From most people, maybe. But then you and I aren’t most people, and you haven’t heard my reasons yet.”
She didn’t think she’d ever heard anything as ludicrous as his request. Obviously he knew nothing about the oil business and even less about her business dealings. “It doesn’t matter what your reasons are. There’s no way I’ll stop.”
He surprised her then. With another one of his slight smiles, he circled her throat with his fingers and stroked her skin with his thumb in an almost casual manner that completely derailed her thoughts. “You’re a very ambitious woman, Tess Baron, but somehow, I think I have a chance to change your mind.”
“You’re crazy,” she whispered, as the heat from his touch backed up in her lungs.
“Maybe, but will you at least give me a chance to explain what my reasons are?”
“I—I can’t. The party-”
“Not tonight. Tomorrow. I’ll meet you for breakfast, wherever and whenever you say.”
She’d known him for only a short time, but she already knew that saying no to him would do no good. If nothing else, his actions tonight had showed her that he was determined to give her an explanation of some sort. Plus, there was an annoying feeling of excitement inside her building at the prospect of getting to see him again. “Okay. Tomorrow morning for breakfast. Here at nine.”
“Good,” he said softly, his hand still at her neck, his long fingers moving up and down her throat. “Very good.” Then he bent his head and kissed her, slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, and thoroughly, devouring her taste as if he wanted to make it a part of him so that he could take it with him. By the time he lifted his head, she had to reach out for the terrace balustrade in order not to fall.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
She could only nod and watch as he slipped through an opening in the terrace railing and disappeared into the night.
Gradually and with great effort she pulled herself together. Once her breathing had evened and her pulse had steadied, she returned to the bar and downed the rest of her whiskey. Ignoring the beer, she ordered a large margarita. With it firmly in her hand, she rejoined her party.
Around four in the morning, when the last of her guests had either left or gone to their rooms, and she’d had way more margaritas than she should have, she slipped into her bed. And she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen in five hours when she saw Nick Trejo again.
Why was he so sure he could convince her to stop drilling? Then again, his reason didn’t really matter. He was wrong. There was nothing more important to her than striking oil as soon as possible, then pumping it into the pipeline at a record rate. And she couldn’t allow anyone or anything to stop her.
Not even a sun god whose kiss contained fire.
Two
Tess stumbled out to the terrace clutching a bottle of aspirin in one hand and sunglasses in the other. As soon as the daylight hit her eyes, she groaned and carefully eased on her sunglasses.
“Coffee, ma’am?” Guadalupe asked. Guadalupe was one of four people who worked in and around the house and whose salary was included in the price of the lease.
She started to nod, then immediately realized her mistake as pain jolted through her head. “Yes, please,” she whispered.
Gratefully she sank into a chair in front of the table, where breakfast had already been laid out. She took a searing gulp of coffee, downed four aspirin, then slumped back against the chair. Damn gulls. They sounded fiendishly cheerful. And…loud. Lord help her, were they that loud every morning?
She’d never had a hangover before, and if she lived through this one, she swore she’d never have one again.
“Is there anything else you’d like, ma’am?”
She almost jumped. She’d forgotten Guadalupe’s presence. Warily she eyed the table. Orange juice, fruit, sausage, eggs and an assortment of rolls, jellies and breads-enough to feed your basic small army.
“This will do for now, thank you.”
The thing was, her intake of alcohol had always been limited to the occasional beer or a glass of wine with dinner. Even in college, when most kids were celebrating their freedom from their parents with copious amounts of drinking, she’d spent her time sating her appetite for learning about business and oil. Succeeding had always been the most important thing for her, and it still was. She was convinced she could overcome this hangover just as she overcame all obstacles—by sheer determination. If she stayed really still…
Tess. Nick paused at the bottom of the terrace steps. She was already at the table, though it didn’t look as if she’d eaten anything yet. Her head was resting on the back of the chair, with her loose blond hair hanging down behind it and blowing lightly in the breeze. The hemline of her short, simple blue dress cut across her upper thighs. The morning sun gilded the skin of her bare arms and legs.
How in the hell was he supposed to keep his mind on business when she looked like that?
It was the same problem he’d had last night. Due to his research, he’d thought he was fully prepared for her. But all it had taken was one look and he’d known he wasn’t prepared for her.
He hadn’t known that one look at her would transfix him. He hadn’t anticipated that each time she talked to a friend, her face would light up so entrancingly that it would take his breath away, nor how a fleeting, anxious expression would make him want to be by her side to ward off whatever or whoever was responsible for the look. He hadn’t known that when he took her into his arms he would feel a powerful punch in the gut and, lower, a hardening that made him want her to the point of pain.
He’d definitely been thrown off his stride.
Still, he never should have strung her along as he had. He should have told her right up front who he was and what he wanted.
But…her blue eyes had sparkled with such a delightful curiosity as she’d sparred with him that he hadn’t been able to resist. And as they’d danced, she’d moved against him with a beguiling, unconscious fluidity that had made him crave her with a strength that had been nearly impossible to ignore.
And her soft, full lips… They’d beckoned him to taste. Honey. They’d tasted like honey and whiskey—potent and unforgettable. Still, he never should have kissed her, because with one kiss, he’d known it wouldn’t be enough.
Except it had to be.
What he wanted from her was far too important for him to let his sexual urges get the best of him. No matter what happened this morning, he had to remember that.
He climbed the steps to the terrace.
“Good morning.”
She started at the quiet, deeply masculine voice. Slowly she pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head and squinted up at Nick Trejo. Sunlight radiated around him like a brilliant nimbus. She pulled her sunglasses down to cover her eyes. “Good morning.” She straightened.
After last night, she should have known better than to arrange a meeting with him this early and outside. She should have known the sun would be more intense wherever he was. But, unwilling to dredge up the memories of why she hadn’t been thinking straight last night, she decided there was nothing to be done about her decision now. He was here, and she was just going to have to deal with it. With him. “Have a seat.”
He smiled at her, and she shut her eyes. She’d planned to look not only presentable for their meeting this morning but businesslike. Unfortunately, she’d barely managed to slip on a short cotton shift and sandals. And her hair… Normally she wore it up or secured in some way, but with some heavy metal rock band’s percussion section currently booming its merry way through her head, she’d barely been able to run a comb through it.
Opening her eyes and watching as Nick settled himself into the chair across from her, she considered whether or not she could blame him for her hangover. No, she decided. To be fair, she couldn’t.
After all, it wasn’t his fault that her reaction to him had unnerved her to the point that she’d ordered the bartender to keep her glass filled all night. Besides, she seemed to remember having a really great time.
“Help yourself to anything you like.”
“I’ll just have coffee.” He reached for the carafe, poured himself a cup, then glanced over the terrace and lawn. “You must have had a terrific cleanup crew. If I hadn’t been here last night, I wouldn’t have known there’d been a party.”
“Really?” She didn’t bother to conduct her own survey. The movement would have hurt. As he had the night before, Nick was holding all her attention. He was casually dressed in jeans, boots and a rosy beige open-necked shirt beneath a medium brown sport jacket. And his amber eyes were even more vivid in his tanned face than they had been last night.
It didn’t matter if it was night or day, she reflected ruefully. It didn’t matter if he was dressed up or down. His virile masculinity was enough to stop the heart of a healthy woman. Fortunately for her, she wasn’t at all well this morning. She reached for her cup and downed more coffee.
He studied her for several moments. “I gather your party lasted well into the night?”
“I must look even worse than I think I do,” she murmured, then watched as his lips curved ever so slightly upward into a half smile.
The sight of his lips brought back the weak, heated way she’d felt when he’d kissed her. Funny. She would have thought the impact of his smile and the sight of his lips would affect her less this morning. After all, everything in her body was hurting, right down to her toenails. Plus she was wearing sunglasses with the added precaution of ultraviolet protection. But…
“Actually, you look quite beautiful. And I like your hair loose.”
…he affected her more.
A flush rushed to her face, and self-consciously she raised a hand to her hair. Then she realized what she was doing and dropped her hand. “Thank you.” The sooner she got this meeting over with, the better. “Are you sure you don’t want anything other than coffee?”
Food. That reminded her. If the way her stomach felt was a color, it would be green. For all she knew, she was green. Maybe she would feel better if she tried to eat something. One thing was for sure, it couldn’t make her feel any worse. At least, she hoped it couldn’t.
“I’ve already had breakfast. The coffee is all I want.”
“Okay.” She glanced at her watch. A mistake. She couldn’t get the numbers to focus. Then again, he didn’t need to know that. “You have fifteen minutes before the world figures out that I’m awake and starts calling and or party stragglers come down in search of breakfast.” Cautiously she eyed a wheat roll, then tore a small part of the roll off and carefully ate it. If it stayed down, she would consider herself ahead of the game.
“I realize what an important woman you are, and believe me, I’m very grateful to you for working me into your packed schedule.”
He’d said it with a straight face, but a light in his eyes told her that he was mocking her. At any other time she would have called him on it, but not this morning. It would take more effort than she was willing to exert right now. Besides, in the next moment, his expression turned serious.
He leaned back in his chair and fixed his intense amber gaze on her. “There are two things you need to know about me. One, I’m a professor of archaeology at the University of Texas, though currently I’m on sabbatical.”
“Archaeology?” Clever cover for a sun god, she thought, and might have laughed at herself if she hadn’t been so convinced it would jar loose something in her throbbing head.
She had to get past that sun god analogy, that amazing kiss they’d shared last night and those amber eyes of his that even now were heating her skin. She had to consider him as she would any other business person who was coming to her with a request.
Simple.
She just wished she knew how to do it.
“The other thing you need to know is that in the 1880’s my great-grandfather discovered a rich vein of gold in the Sierra Madre mountains in Northern Mexico. It was an enormous find. He literally mined a fortune out of those mountains, and he had great dreams for that gold.” Nick’s voice was strong, and his gaze never once left her face. “He turned it into bullion and loaded it aboard a ship, the Águila, at the port of Tampico. The ship’s destination was here.” His index finger pointed to the table, indicating Corpus Christi. “That fortune was to be the start of a new life for him here in Texas. His plan was to buy a vast amount of land, found a great ranch and build an empire.”
The aspirin seemed to be working a little. It had muffled the acute pounding in her head to a dull pounding. She risked another bite of the roll and washed it down with more coffee. “That’s very interesting, but what does your family’s history have to do with me and my current drilling site?”
“Just listen. Please.”
In many different and unusual ways, the man defined the word power, but he’d said please to her with a sincerity and a supplication she wouldn’t have thought him capable of. In that moment she knew she would sit there and listen until he finished his story. “All right.”
“The Águila had almost reached its destination when it met a hurricane. It was a killer. At a certain point, it turned away from the land and headed back out to sea. It caught the ship up and blew it farther out into the Gulf. The waves were too high, the ship took on too much water, and it sank.”
She rubbed her aching forehead and wondered how long hangovers lasted. “What a shame, and after he’d worked so hard.”
“The loss of the gold all but killed him. He had what I suppose today we would call a nervous breakdown, but somehow he managed to go back to the Sierra Madre one last time. However, in his absence, other prospectors had descended on the mine, and his heart wasn’t in it anymore. He managed to extract only a meager amount before he left the mountain for good. Back in Texas, he bought a relatively small amount of land outside Uvalde and ran cattle on it until he died.”
“It must have been very hard for him,” she said, for want of anything better to say. Nick was a compelling man who could affect her with a mere look or touch, and his story was a sad one that moved her. Yet she had a mountain of her own problems waiting for her as soon as she stepped into the house and sat down at her desk, plus she had this damn hangover to deal with.
As if he could sense her mind wandering, Nick eyed her consideringly. “I don’t think you can imagine the full extent of how hard it was for him, because even I can’t. I only know that he was a man of great pride and felt humiliated by his failure. To build his self-esteem, he talked incessantly to the people he came to know in and around Uvalde, telling them about the great fortune that he’d wrested from the mountains, then lost. Unfortunately, none of them believed his story of how close he’d come to founding an empire, and they scorned him. He died brokenhearted.”