The Barons Of Texas: Tess. Fayrene Preston

       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