Falling for the Texas Tycoon. Karen Smith Rose
“Damn it, Lisa, don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re as curious about me as I am about you.”
“Curious?” she asked.
“If you were a few years older—”
She cut him off, angry. “And exactly what difference would a few years make? You’re acting as if I don’t know the score. I’m twenty-one, I can vote, drink and kiss any man I want.”
His hands rested on her shoulders now. “A kiss could start something neither of us are ready for.”
“Or it could prove there’s nothing for either of us to worry about. You know—all smoke and no fire.”
“Oh, Lisa.” Her name was a protest…a warning.
She could back away now when she still had the chance.
But she didn’t want to back away.
Dear Reader,
It is always an honor to take part in a continuity series. I had a special fondness for my heroine Lisa, since I created her for the original LOGAN’S LEGACY single-title series. Her Prince Charming, a Texas tycoon, gives her a Valentine’s Day fantasy date that she’ll remember forever.
Valentine’s Day has always been special for my husband and me—we exchange hearts again, as well as presents, remembering the romance that first drew us together. It is an occasion for us to renew our commitment to each other, to celebrate our romantic journey thus far and the future we are building together.
I wish my readers a happy Valentine’s Day.
All my best,
Karen Rose Smith
Falling for the Texas Tycoon
Karen Rose Smith
KAREN ROSE SMITH
Karen Rose Smith, award-winning author of over fifty published novels, loves to write. She began putting pen to paper in high school when she discovered poetry as a creative outlet. Also writing for her high school newspaper, intending to teach someday, she never suspected crafting emotional and romantic stories would become her life’s work! Married for thirty-five years, she and her husband reside in Pennsylvania with their two cats, Ebbie and London. Readers can e-mail Karen through her Web site at www.karenrosesmith.com or write to her at P. O. Box 1545, Hanover, PA 17331.
To my husband, Steve. Happy Valentine’s Day!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
Chapter One
Men like Alan Barrett were trouble with a capital T. With his Stetson and his I-can-beat-down-any-obstacle-in-my-path smile, he obviously thought he could get his own way no matter what.
He was wrong.
Although Lisa Sanders had been her boss’s gatekeeper for only a month, she was already good at it. No one charmed or intimidated her. Not even a six-foot-two Texan who claimed to be a friend of Brian’s. He was not listed on her boss’s schedule and that’s all that mattered.
She stared into his to-die-for blue eyes, ignored the runaway beat of her pulse and repeated, “Mr. Summers is in a meeting and can’t be disturbed. His schedule is tight today. I might be able to fit you in around one-fifteen.”
Alan Barrett’s smile faded. “Look, Miss—” His gaze dropped to the nameplate on her desk. “Miss Sanders. Besides the fact that we do business together, Brian and I are friends. I spoke to him less than an hour ago. He said he’d meet with me at ten. It’s now ten.”
Lisa wasn’t simply fresh out of college with a degree in business, she had a history of street smarts behind her, one that made her square her shoulders and act even more protective of Brian. He wasn’t only her boss. He and his wife, Carrie, were her benefactors. If it weren’t for them, she didn’t know where she’d be now. Maybe still in a homeless shelter, her baby put up for adoption to people she didn’t know. Brian and Carrie had given her a home and a new life, and she would be forever grateful to them. As soon as she earned her real estate license, she’d be more than Brian’s office manager, and she’d never ever let him down. She wanted him to know he could depend on her just as she’d depended on him.
Motioning to the group of pale gray, leather-covered club chairs in the waiting area where the receptionist was located—Alan Barrett had bypassed the admin and come straight to her—Lisa said firmly but politely, “If you take a seat, I’ll check with Mr. Summers when his meeting is over.”
The Texan’s gaze became steely as he assessed everything from Lisa’s chin-length bob and navy suit to her color of lipstick. A slight shiver trembled through her when she realized she was attracted to his raw sex appeal, the jut of his rugged jaw, his broad, muscular shoulders. Even with his hat shadowing his face, the lines there told her he had to be near forty. He was way too old for her and definitely out of her league. She didn’t react to men this way. She had no time for men. She was on a career path. Besides all that, she doubted she could find a man who could accept the fact that she’d given away her child.
“Since I haven’t seen you here before, Miss Sanders, I’ll take into consideration the fact that you’re probably new and trying to do a good job. But if you don’t buzz Brian and let him know I’m here, you might lose it.”
She’d suspected this man might try to turn to intimidation tactics. His type always did. She didn’t do well with patronizing authority figures. The other employees who worked for Brian were under the illusion that she was a relative of her boss’s and he’d given her this job to help her get a good start. Only his and Carrie’s closest friends knew the whole story—that they’d taken her in in her eighth month of pregnancy, when she was eighteen, had adopted her baby and treated her like a daughter ever since, including paying for her college tuition. If Mr. Barrett didn’t “know” about her, then how close a friend of Brian’s could he be?
“Believe me, Mr. Barrett, I’m not going to lose my job. If you don’t want to have a seat, then I guess you’ll have to leave.”
If Alan Barrett was surprised she hadn’t backed down, he hid it well. Glancing at his watch again, he said in an I’m-not-happy-about-this-but-I’ll-deal-with-it voice, “I needed to see Brian immediately because I have an important call to make in half an hour. Do you have a conference room I can use so I can make it now?”
She’d rarely known men like Alan Barrett to be flexible. She supposed Brian wouldn’t mind if he used one of the offices. She’d just have to keep an eye on him. Pushing back the contract she’d been studying, she stood.
“Follow me,” she said crisply, then led him to a hall to the right of her desk. The hairs at the nape of her neck prickled as he followed her. She hoped her suit jacket wasn’t wrinkled yet. She hoped the back seam of her skirt was straight. She hoped…
She hoped nothing where this man was concerned.