Читать книгу The Barons Of Texas: Tess - Fayrene Preston, Fayrene Preston - Страница 8

Tall, lean and bronzed, the man stood at the edge of the terrace watching her, just as he had for the last fifteen minutes. Tess Baron tried to ignore him and focus instead on her party guests, but she found it virtually impossible.

Something about his stillness compelled her attention. It was like lightning caught in a bottle, an electric tension that would be safe only as long as it was contained. And he didn’t strike her as the type of man to contain his energies for long.

This was her birthday party. She knew everyone here. Everyone, that was, except him.

She skimmed the crowd, wondering who had brought him, but everyone was either dancing or mixing. No one looked as if they’d brought a guest, then forgotten him. Besides, she reflected ruefully, it would be impossible to forget him.

Behind him, the sun was slowly setting into the Gulf of Mexico, its great orange ball searing the water with its heat as it dipped lower and lower. Silhouetted against the elemental tableau, with the sun surrounding him, the man looked larger than life—a sun god.

At that moment she wouldn’t have bet money against the possibility that he had lassoed the sun down from the sky.

She exhaled a long breath, reminded herself that she didn’t have a quixotic bone in her body, and forced her focus elsewhere. At least everything else about her party was going well.

A warm breeze from off the Gulf waters somehow matched the band’s sensual bossa nova beat. Icy margaritas and long neck beers were being served, along with mounds of jumbo Gulf shrimp and oysters harvested fresh that day. Out on the lawn, barbecued cabrito turned on a spit.

He ate or drank nothing, though she’d seen waiters offering him his preference of drinks.

“Happy birthday, Tess.”

The voice of a longtime friend snapped her mind back to her party. “Thanks, Becca.” She kissed the cheek of the pretty young woman, then reached up to hug Becca’s college sweetheart and husband, Mel Grant. “I’m so glad you two could come.”

Becca laughed. “Are you kidding? Your birthday parties are way too much fun to miss. Besides, Corpus Christi is a pretty cool city.”

Mel smiled at her. “It’s become a party game to try to guess where you’re going to hold your parties each year. The year you threw your party in Kuala Lumpur is now legendary. But last year I felt a little let down.”

She grinned. “Oh, yeah?”

“Southfork?” He shook his head. “Not very original, Tess, and way too close to home.”

She laughed. “Sorry, but the location of my parties depends on where I’m working, and last year I was working at home.”

“I know, but personally, I was hoping for an oil rig in the South China Sea.”

“An oil rig is no place to throw a party—which you very well know. Too much chance for harm on either side.”

Mel worked for Coastal Petroleum, one of the world’s major oil companies. Nevertheless, he sighed dramatically. “Okay, okay, I’ll give you that, plus a big thumbs-up for this year.”

“What a relief,” she said dryly.

“Yep. This is a great house, right on the beach and with a fabulous view. I’d say you made up the points you lost last year.”

“Ignore him, Tess,” Becca advised.

“He’s much too entertaining to ignore. Besides, he’s right. This is a great house. I leased it because my new offshore drilling site is straight out there.” She pointed toward the Gulf. “And because there’s a great helipad at the side of the house.”

Mel nodded. “By the way, congratulations. Word is you think the reservoir you’ve found out there will be your richest oil discovery yet.”

She grimaced, and her hand automatically went to cover her stomach, where a heavy dread appeared every time she thought of what she was gambling on this one site. “Do me a favor and don’t congratulate me yet. I’m superstitious. The initial tests were very encouraging, but in the end, we both know that could mean nothing. I won’t celebrate until we strike that first oil and the well actually starts to produce.”

Becca waved a dismissive hand. “You’re like a bloodhound when it comes to oil. I’d back your instincts before I would all those sophisticated tests they do. If you like what you’ve seen out there, then the oil is as good as in the pipeline.”

Tess gave Becca a quick, grateful hug. “Thank you.”

Her instincts had always been solid; Becca was right about that. Yet the stakes were so high on this particular venture that she couldn’t be sure her instincts hadn’t been tainted by her need for this well to come in big, not to mention quick.

“Word is also out that you’ve been having some problems,” Mel continued. “In case you decide you need some help, just remember, my company is always interested.”

Unfortunately, it was very hard to keep secrets in the oil business. “You know how I feel about my oil ventures, Mel.”

“I know, I know. They’re your babies, and you keep them until they’re raised and well into old age.”

She nodded. “It’s a family tradition.” She’d hoped this party would help her relax and have a good time, something she hadn’t been able to do in a long time. Unfortunately, though, her nerves were tighter than ever. Between Mel and his well-meaning talk of her problems and the man… He hadn’t moved, and he was still looking at her with that laser gaze of his. Beneath his stare, her skin felt just like it was being sunburned.

“Listen, do either of you know that man standing over there, leaning against the balustrade?”

Both Becca and Mel glanced over their shoulders. “No, but if I weren’t with Mel tonight, I would love to.”

Mel frowned at his wife. “Excuse me, but I don’t think that’s funny.”

“No?” With her eyes twinkling with laughter, she reached for her husband’s hand. “Then how about dancing with me? Maybe it will come back to me why I love you so much.”

“That sounds like a challenge and I’m definitely up for it.” With a wink at Tess, he pulled his wife onto the dance floor. “See you later.”

“You bet.” Surely there was a simple explanation for the man’s presence. Tess pondered. One of her guests must have brought him, but if so, why weren’t they with him? Why hadn’t they introduced him to her? And most of all, why did he keep looking at her?

And, damn it, where was Ron? He might be able to tell her the identity of the man. Ron Hughes was a bright, competent young man in his late twenties. As her assistant, it was his job to know everything and everyone, and he usually did. But he was probably still in the house, working in the two-room suite they’d appropriated as their offices for the time they would be there.

Someone lightly clasped her elbow. “Dance?”

She started, then inwardly laughed at herself. No, she reflected wryly, there was nothing at all wrong with her nerves. She looked around. “Colin! Oh, great, you made it.”

“Did you doubt it for a minute?”

She smiled. “No.”

Colin Wynne, tanned, suave and incredibly goodlooking, was one of Dallas’s most eligible bachelors. He was also one of her favorite people, though they’d never dated. She’d never had the desire to go out with him other than in a group, and she knew the feeling was mutual. Over the years, she’d found friendships to be much more satisfying than a love life. He held out his hand to her.

“Thanks,” she said, “but not right now. I still have some details to see to. The party’s really just beginning.”

“Nonsense. I’m here. You’re here. The party has officially started.”

She grinned. Few people possessed the self-confidence Colin did. He made everything he did look easy, yet he was one of the hardest-working people she knew. “Who did you bring tonight?”

“I didn’t bring a date, if that’s what you mean—just a planeload of the usual suspects.”

“Oh, that’s right. I heard you were going to fly down some of the group in your new jet. Thanks.”

“No problem at all.”

She leaned closer to him. “Do you know that man standing over there by the edge of the terrace?”

He threw a casual glance over his shoulder. “Nope. Who is he? A party crasher?”

She shook her head. “He must have come with someone. I just can’t figure out who yet.”

“You want me to go over and check him out?”

“No. I’ll do it in a minute.”

“Happy birthday, Tess.” A cool voice slipped between them and they both turned.

“Jill.” She gave her sister a quick, automatic hug. If the hug lacked the spontaneity and ease of the hug she’d given Becca, she prided herself on her belief that no one could tell. No one except maybe Jill. And Colin, who knew them both well.

Just as quickly, she released her middle sister and stepped back. Jill was wearing a short black Armani sheath that emphasized her inherent elegance and sophistication. Until Tess had seen Jill, she’d thought she looked pretty good in her short, ivory silk dress with straps that skimmed over her shoulders and crisscrossed several times in the back until reaching her waist.

But then, it was Jill who had inherited the classical beauty and elegance of their mother, not her nor Kit. Even Jill’s dark hair was styled into an elaborate French twist from which no hair would dare escape.

Annoyingly, Tess could feel the wind blowing at the untidy blond tendrils of her hair, which had already managed to elude the containment of the ivory silk scarf she’d tied at the nape of her neck. “You’re late. What happened? I expected you earlier.”

“My ride took off without me, and I had to make other arrangements to get here.” Jill’s bourbon-colored gaze flashed at Colin.

The very picture of innocence, he spread out his hands. “I had a schedule to meet.”

“You weren’t running a bus, Colin.” Jill’s words dripped with ice. “You were flying your own plane.”

“Ever heard of a little thing called a flight plan?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I have. And I know they can give you a certain leeway.”

He shrugged. “Everyone else was aboard. I didn’t see why they should be punished just because you couldn’t arrange your day so you could get to the airport on time.”

Tess rolled her eyes, though neither Jill nor Colin saw her, so intent were they on squaring off against each other. But she’d grown used to their behavior. For whatever reason, whenever the two of them got together, some type of sparks usually flew, and more often than not, it was sparks of anger.

“I have an idea,” she said. “Why don’t you two go dance and I’ll see you both later?”

Colin looked at her, then at Jill. After a moment, he slowly held out his hand to her. Jill hesitated for several seconds, then glanced at Tess. “Have Uncle William and Des arrived yet?”

“Uncle William isn’t feeling well, so he won’t be coming.”

Jill’s perfect forehead creased in a frown. “Is it serious?”

Colin dropped his hand.

“He didn’t give me any reason to believe that it was. Besides, you know Des would let us know if something was seriously wrong.”

Jill nodded. “What about Des?”

Good question, Tess thought wryly. It was the eternal question that kept her and her sisters occupied. “I have no idea if he’s even coming.”

“You haven’t heard from him?”

“You know he rarely lets us know what he’s up to.”

“Right.” Jill chewed her bottom lip for perhaps three seconds, then stopped. It was a habit left over from her childhood. “Well, let me know if Des arrives, okay?”

Sure she would, Tess thought. When pigs flew.

Jill switched her attention to Colin. “Well?”

“Well, what, Jill?”

“Do you or don’t you want to dance?”

This time it was Colin who hesitated. “Maybe later,” he finally said and walked off.

Tess hid a smile. If looks could kill, Colin would now be dead. Jill stared after him for a moment longer, then turned and went in the opposite direction.

The Des in whom Jill had been so interested was their uncle William’s elusive stepson, a high-powered lawyer. Women flocked to Des like bees to honey, but he was much more than a highly eligible bachelor to her and her two sisters. She, Jill and Kit had each inherited one-sixth of their family’s business upon the death of their father, conditional upon each of them meeting a certain criterion. But Des was due to inherit fifty percent of their family company upon Uncle William’s death.

That fact put Des smack in the center of the collective crosshairs of her and her sisters. In theory, if one of them married him, they would gain control of the family company. And there wasn’t one of them who wasn’t hungry for that control and more than willing, able and raring to go after him. Too bad for her sisters that she planned to be the one who got him.

However, pursuing Des was frustrating as hell. Though she was no expert on love, it seemed to her that the only way to get Des to fall in love with her was to arrange it so that they could spend time with each other. But time was something Des rarely gave any of them on an individual basis.

Still, she wasn’t deterred, nor, she knew, were her sisters. Winning control of the company was too important for each of them. If Des showed up tonight, Jill would go after him like a heat-seeking missile, but she would have to stand in line behind Tess. And then, of course, there was Kit.

The three of them had been competitive with each other since birth, encouraged and egged on by their father, who pounded into each of them the importance of being the best at whatever they did. One of their competitions involved fighting to be the one who, at the end of the company’s fiscal year, had made the most money for the company, and there wasn’t much they wouldn’t do to earn that yearly honor. Or to win Des’s agreement to marriage.

But this year, she, even more than Kit and Jill, had a tremendous amount to prove.

“Dance with me.”

She looked up and took a reflexive step backward. She’d been so lost in the dysfunctional dynamics of her family that she’d momentarily forgotten her unknown guest. Now he was standing in front of her, tall, broad-shouldered and a bit overpowering.

And his eyes, she finally saw, were a startling amber. “Who are you?”

“Someone who would like very much to dance with you.”

His voice reverberated deep inside her, warm and compelling, like a playful silken ribbon that dipped and curved throughout her, making her heart pound like a bass drum.

His amber eyes held her gaze. His name. She didn’t know his name.

It didn’t matter.

He took her hand, and suddenly she found herself on the dance floor, and she wasn’t entirely certain how she’d gotten there. Surely she’d told him no.

Apparently not.

His arms were strong as they held her to his hard body. His dance steps were smooth, so that following him was easy, which allowed her to register other things. Such as the heat his body generated—it had the power to melt an iceberg.

This was a man who was definitely confident with his own sexuality and did nothing to hold it back. In addition, those amber eyes of his held dark, intriguing depths she hadn’t expected. And his skin was bronzed to a beautiful golden brown that made her think he must spend a great deal of time outdoors. His dark brown hair was almost outshone by streaks that could only have been put there by the brightness of the sun.

Truly he could be a sun god.

If she believed in such things.

Still, all her instincts were shouting at her that she would be safer if she simply walked away from him. There was just one problem. She wasn’t certain she could. His body had suddenly become her own private universe’s center of gravity.

Thankfully, she could still think, and truthfully, she was way too curious to attempt to leave him at this point. “Were you invited to my party?”

“No.”

Just the single word. No explanation, as if none was needed. “Did you come with one of my guests?”

“No.”

A shiver raced down her spine. He was studying her as if she were a book he was trying to learn, yet he wasn’t asking any questions. He was leaving that to her.

“Then why are you here?”

“Because of you.” His voice was soft, yet intense and with a faint trace of some dark emotion. “You’re really quite beautiful, you know. I didn’t expect it.”

“You didn’t…?”

He slowly shook his head, his gaze never once leaving her.

She found herself speechless. She felt as if he’d isolated her from the rest of the world, yet she was surrounded by friends, none of whom seemed the least bit alarmed that she was dancing with a perfect stranger who radiated a barely contained electric energy and thus danger.

But then, they couldn’t see what she was seeing, nor could they feel what he was making her feel.

A dark fire simmered in the depths of his remarkable eyes—eyes, she was convinced, that, if he chose, he could use like a lethal weapon. With a single glance he would be able to mow down anyone who got in his way or, conversely, reach across the terrace and touch her, making her aware of him in every part of her body. And that had been when they were yards from each other.

Now, as she danced with him, he was having an even greater impact on her. She couldn’t have said what the band was playing. She only knew that the two of them were moving slowly, sensually and in perfect unison. And, oddly, it seemed very right.

Her reaction didn’t make sense.

He didn’t make sense.

The sun had almost set, leaving behind fading streaks of red, orange and gold just above the horizon. The lights around the dance floor and in the trees had come on, yet he remained every bit as powerful, as elemental and as comfortable as he had been with the sun behind him.

“Happy birthday, Tess,” someone called.

“Thank you,” she said, blindly glancing in the direction of the voice, then immediately looked back at him, the man whose heat had melted her and whose strength had molded her against him with ease. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, her legs rubbed against the steel of his thighs. She didn’t even know his name, yet the aggressive, masculine force of his body impacted her every cell, bringing out feminine urges and needs so new, she wasn’t sure what to do with them.

“You throw a great party,” he murmured.

“Thank you. It was so good of you to come.”

For the first time he smiled at her—a partial smile, a knowing smile, a completely self-assured smile. And the effect was a shock of electricity that bolted straight through her and made her catch her breath. A full smile from him might stop her heart.

Her hand moved restlessly over his shoulder, the fine cut and expensive cloth of his dark suit adding one more piece to the puzzle of him. Simply by dancing with him, she was coming to know his body well, and she could tell his strength didn’t come from bulky muscles but rather the lean, elongated muscles of a natural athlete. Yet another piece. “Do you make it a practice to crash parties?”

“Actually, this is my first.”

“And are you having a good time?”

“So far I can’t complain.”

“If you’ll tell me your name, I might put you on the guest list for next year. Or would you just prefer to crash again?”

“Neither. I’m afraid I can’t wait a year to see you again.”

“Why—” Someone bumped against her back. Protectively, he tightened his hold on her and circled her in another direction.

“Hey, Sis. Happy birthday.”

She looked around, then inwardly sighed. She should have known. No one but her youngest sister, Kit, would deliberately bump into her. And no one but Kit would have dressed for what she knew to be a dressy affair in a tight T-shirt, even tighter jeans and a pair of Western boots that Tess knew for a fact were eight years old and looked twelve. “Thank you.”

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.