Falling for the Texas Tycoon

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Falling for the Texas Tycoon Page 10

by Karen Rose Smith


  “You’ve resented it, too.”

  “Yes, I guess I have.” She checked her watch. “I’d better be going. I have a lot of errands to run today.”

  “Have a date tonight?”

  She blushed. “Actually, yes I do. I have a hair appointment and a nail appointment…” She trailed off, apparently realizing she was revealing some of the excitement she felt.

  Going to the sideboard, she picked up her purse. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but try to be a little…prudent with this secretary.”

  When he finally thought he and Sherri had made some headway in communicating, she’d say something that would annoy him all over again. “I could give you the same advice.”

  His ex-wife replied, “I’m not trying to recapture my youth.”

  After that parting shot, she left.

  Alan heard the clink of china in the kitchen and realized Maude had discreetly left the dining room when his discussion with Sherri had begun. Now he took a few dishes, stacked them and took them to the counter.

  “I didn’t hear much,” the housekeeper said, rinsing the plates one by one before she plopped them in the dishwasher.

  “I suppose you stuffed napkins in your ears?”

  “No, I ran the water.”

  He’d started to turn away and go to his office when she added, “I think Sherri’s right about one thing.”

  Although Maude never meddled needlessly, she gave her opinion when she felt a member of the family needed to hear it. “Just what was she right about?” he asked.

  “You look at Lisa differently than you’ve looked at other women, and there’s a connection between the two of you that anyone in the room can feel.”

  “She’s young, Maude.”

  “I know she’s twenty-one, but there’s something in her eyes that tells me she’s much older than her years.”

  “I see that, too.”

  “Don’t rush headlong into anything, but I don’t think you should cut off your nose to spite your face, either.”

  “She doesn’t want to get involved,” he said honestly.

  Maude shrugged. “Then I guess you’ll either have to walk away or convince her otherwise.”

  Right now, he knew walking away would be the easiest course for both of them. But was easy the way he wanted to live his life?

  Later that afternoon, Lisa was ready to scream. Although she had taken copious notes while she’d walked the for-sale property with Alan, Brian and their clients, the awkwardness she felt with Alan was like a tightrope that she knew was going to break soon. She couldn’t ignore him and he couldn’t ignore her. But they were doing a darn good job of trying.

  Now, as the others left the springhouse they’d examined, she lingered. So did Alan. Only a high window let in the daylight, but in the shadows, she could see he had something on his mind.

  The low murmur of men’s voices floated through the open door. Lisa heard the caw of a bird, the hum of a small plane overhead, but the noises couldn’t distract her from Alan. They couldn’t keep her from looking into his blue eyes.

  “I want to ask you something.” His voice was almost terse.

  “What?”

  “When we return to Portland, faxes and phone calls and meetings about this deal will go on for a long time. Do you want to be a part of it? Or do you want me to persuade Brian to have another associate sit in?”

  She didn’t know if Alan was asking for her benefit or his. “Which would you prefer?”

  “This is your decision, Lisa.”

  After a few moments of silence, she answered, “I don’t see why we can’t work together professionally. I can’t believe how much I’ve learned from this trip, and I’d like to see this project through to completion. I also don’t want to give Brian any reason to think he can’t count on me, or you, either, for that matter.”

  Alan looked as if he was proud of what she’d just said, and that meant a lot to her…maybe too much.

  He was suddenly a few steps closer. “I want you to know that if we continue to work together, nothing will happen that shouldn’t. I’ll make sure we’re not in a compromising situation, and nothing I do will give you any reason to think of me as anything but a business associate.”

  His words made her heart heavy. This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Her focus went to his mouth and how much pleasure he could give her. She remembered touching his chest, feeling his heat, being inflamed by his passion.

  Don’t think about it, she scolded herself.

  His gaze was on her lips…on her face. He couldn’t know she melted every time he looked at her. He couldn’t know how her heart lifted when he entered the room. He couldn’t know that whenever they were together, she was happy to be around him, but hurt because of what they would never have.

  “I want you to know how much I enjoyed this trip, Alan. How much I enjoyed meeting your daughter. She’s really wonderful. You have so much to be proud of.”

  “I think you’d become friends if you had more time together.”

  “I think we would, too. Who knows? If you spend a lot of time in Portland and she comes to visit you there, maybe she and I can go shopping together.”

  “Women and shopping, the great bonding experience.”

  Lisa smiled, and yet she was crying inside because this felt so much like goodbye.

  It was goodbye. She felt as if she’d said so many goodbyes in her life—to her parents, her aunt, to Thad and, most painful of all, to Timothy—that she’d lost a huge part of herself, a huge part of her heart. She didn’t want to say goodbye to Alan, but what choice did she have?

  “Christina and I are going to watch a movie tonight. She picked up one about a horse that breaks its leg, then goes on to win the Breeders’ Cup. You’re welcome to join us.”

  “It’s probably better if I don’t. I’m still typing up all my notes on my laptop. It will give me a head start when I get to the office on Monday.”

  Alan nodded, as if he’d known that’s what her answer would be. Then he motioned for her to precede him out of the springhouse. As she passed in front of him, she caught the scent of his aftershave and felt his gaze on her back as she walked out into the sunshine.

  She wouldn’t forget this trip to Texas…not ever.

  “Tell Miss Sanders this isn’t a good time, Ralph. I’ll talk to her tomorrow.” Alan’s voice came from the intercom in his penthouse Sunday evening, sounding very tired.

  Lisa asked Ralph, “May I talk to him myself? I think he’s sick and doesn’t want anyone to know it. But he might need some help.”

  Ralph let her take his place at the intercom.

  This morning, as they’d flown back from Texas, Alan had looked more than a little under the weather. He’d been absolutely gray. Brian hadn’t seemed to notice, in the way men don’t notice those things, but she had. She and Alan had hardly spoken on the trip home. She was still raw from everything that had happened at the Lazy B, including the decision to put Alan out of her mind in a romantic sense. She cared about him and was afraid he was pulling a macho act and might be really sick.

  Last night as she’d stayed awake thinking and feeling, she’d realized that she couldn’t say goodbye to Alan. He’d already made a place for himself in her heart and she was worried about him.

  That’s why she was here.

  She pressed the intercom button. “Alan, it’s me. Do you have someone with you?”

  There was a hesitation, then his voice came through the speaker. “No.”

  “Then you don’t have a good reason why I shouldn’t come up, do you? I have some forms on the resort that need to be signed.” She did—although they didn’t need to be signed tonight. But any excuse at this point was a good one.

  “All right.” He gave in angrily. “Bring them up.”

  Triumphantly she smiled at Ralph.

  Like a coconspirator, he mused, “Mr. Barrett did look tired when he came in. He didn’t go out for supper like he usually does.”

&
nbsp; “I’ll make sure everything’s all right. If he needs a doctor, I’ll call down.”

  Ralph worried his lower lip with his teeth. “You really have papers for Mr. Barrett?”

  Lisa wiggled the envelope. “Right here.”

  Ralph went behind his desk and pressed the button to open the private elevator to the penthouse.

  Lisa didn’t feel all that triumphant as the elevator rose and she stepped off onto Alan’s floor. What if he wouldn’t let her inside? What if he simply snatched the papers from her and that was that?

  So be it. She couldn’t do more than she could do…or more than he’d let her do.

  She’d spent all afternoon debating whether she should come over here tonight or not. But once the decision was made, she wasn’t turning back.

  At his door, she knocked once, then knocked again.

  When he opened it, her resolve intensified. He looked terrible, dressed in wrinkled sweats with his feet bare. His hair was disheveled and he had dark circles under his eyes. He was holding on to the door frame as if his life depended on it.

  Still, his eyes were turbulent and annoyed. “Give me the papers. I’ll sign them and have them messengered to Brian tomorrow.”

  “They have to be witnessed,” she said sweetly, pushing past him. Everything was as it had been the last time she was here. Not even a magazine out of place.

  Appearing downright angry now, he didn’t move from the door. “Lisa, what are you doing here?”

  She waved the envelope.

  Frowning, he shut the door, took a couple of seconds, then made his way to the sofa…very slowly.

  “Alan, tell me what’s wrong. You look awful.”

  Lowering himself onto the seat, he dropped his head into his hands and then groaned. “Some kind of damn bug. Leave, Lisa. You don’t want to get it.”

  As close as they’d been at times in Texas, if she was going to get whatever he had, she would. But she had a strong constitution and she doubted it would happen. She suspected Alan had let himself get run-down, hadn’t had enough sleep with all the balls he was juggling.

  She sank onto the sofa beside him. “We were together in Texas, remember? I’ve probably already been exposed. So tell me what I can do for you.”

  He shook his head. “Just leave me alone.”

  “Do you have a fever?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “That’s because you didn’t take your temperature, did you?”

  “Go away, Lisa. I’ll sleep this off and be as good as new tomorrow.”

  “With a little help, you might feel better tonight.”

  He turned toward her, but closed his eyes for a moment as if the movement made him dizzy. “I don’t need someone to take care of me.”

  “Don’t you?” she retorted. “Looks to me as if you do. Have you eaten anything?”

  He didn’t nod and he didn’t answer.

  “I thought not. How’s your stomach?”

  “It’s fine…until I move around a lot,” he grumbled.

  She couldn’t help but smile. “Did you ever think the best place for you to be is in bed?”

  “What if I told you I was there before you disturbed me?”

  “I wouldn’t believe you.”

  He sighed. “You’re right. I only go to bed to sleep, and to…” The look he gave her was smoldering in spite of the way he felt, and she saw that his defenses were down. She had to make sure hers weren’t.

  “Do you have a thermometer?”

  He leaned back on the sofa, tilting his head against the cushion. “In the medicine cabinet.”

  It took her only a minute to find his bedroom and the bathroom beyond. It was luxurious and large. There was a black whirlpool tub and a walk-in shower with a beautiful pressed-glass door. His medicine cabinet was practically empty, though it held a box of bandages, a bottle of peroxide, a vial of acetaminophen and the thermometer. Plucking the items from the shelf, she hurried back to the sofa. The thermometer was one of those that beeped after it recorded the temperature. It had never been used. She tore the paper from it and touched Alan’s arm.

  His eyes flew open.

  “Here, let’s see what we’ve got.”

  “We’ve got a man who’s being bothered by a woman,” he muttered.

  She slipped the thermometer into his mouth. Meanwhile, she went into his kitchen to see if he had anything that might make him feel better. She didn’t find much—a bag with two bagels that were stale, soda and a lone apple that had seen better days.

  The thermometer beeped and Lisa practically ran to fetch it from Alan’s mouth. Her stomach dipped when she saw what it said. “It’s 101.8. You should call your doctor.”

  “I don’t need a doctor. I just need to sleep this off.”

  Sitting down beside him, she turned sideways to look at him until her jean-clad leg brushed against his knee. “I’m worried.”

  With a blown-out breath, he shook his head. “Don’t be.”

  “I’ll make a deal with you. I won’t call an ambulance if you promise to call your doctor if it hits 102.”

  One corner of his lips quirked up. “That’s a deal? That’s blackmail.”

  “No, that’s just my way of dealing with a stubborn man who doesn’t know what to do for his own good.”

  Alan wrapped his arms around himself as if he was cold.

  With that temperature he probably had chills. “The first thing we’ve got to do is get some liquids into you. I’d prefer something hot, but you don’t have any tea.”

  “I hate tea.”

  “Too bad. I’m going to get you settled and then go buy some supplies. I’ll be gone fifteen minutes, tops. There’s a convenience store at the corner. I’ll be right back.”

  Alan closed his eyes again and didn’t even seem to notice she stood up.

  Minutes later she’d gathered what she needed to deal with a man who was too tall and heavy to move, and too stubborn to do what she wanted. She snapped a pillow onto the opposite end of the couch.

  “Lie back,” she ordered.

  He opened his eyes and stared at the pillow.

  “If you won’t go to bed, the bed will come to you. Lie down,” she repeated.

  His smile was crooked. “So you can have your way with me?”

  “Don’t you wish.”

  As soon as he’d stretched out, she took the pair of socks she’d found in his drawer and slipped them onto his feet. “The last thing you need is to get more chilled.”

  Lifting a blanket she’d found in a closet, she threw it over him. A few minutes later, she’d set half of a toasted bagel and a glass of clear soda with ice on the coffee table beside him. “Sip that if you can. Try to eat the bagel before you take the acetaminophen. Hopefully, we can break that fever.”

  After he did as she suggested, he settled himself deeper into the pillow. “The room moves less if I keep still.”

  “Then keep still.”

  As she stood again, he clasped her wrist. “Don’t go.”

  “I was just going to run to the store.”

  His gaze met hers. “I don’t know why I said that. Of course you’re going to go. Just leave, Lisa. Really. I’ll be fine.”

  Taking one of the large pillows from the stack of four, she dragged it over to the sofa and set it near the arm where he lay. Then she sank down onto the floor. “Try to get some rest. I’ll go to the store in the morning. I’m not going anywhere now.”

  He must have seen the determination on her face and heard it in her voice. Instead of arguing, he settled himself again on the pillow and closed his eyes.

  She listened to the sound of Alan’s breathing, feeling as if this was exactly where she belonged.

  Chapter Eight

  “Don’t jump the fence, Christina. It’s too high! He’ll throw you.”

  Lisa came awake and quickly vaulted out of the oversize recliner.

  Alan had thrown off his cover and was tossing and turning on the sofa.

  B
eside him now, on her knees, she threw her arm across his chest. “Alan, it’s all right. It’s just a dream.”

  His T-shirt was soaked with perspiration, but he still seemed hot and clammy.

  “Alan,” she said again, trying to break through his dream.

  When his eyes flew open, he stared at her for a few seconds, then stilled. “Christina tried to jump a fence with her horse when she was eight. She broke her arm. Being a witness to it was one of the worst moments of my life.”

  Lisa wanted to say she understood. She wanted to tell him that when she saw Timothy headed for a fall, all she wanted to do was run and scoop him up and keep him safe. Yet if she told Alan that, she’d have to tell him the rest, and this simply wasn’t the time. He was shivering and his complexion still lacked color.

  “Christina’s going to be all right when she goes to college. You’ll see. She’ll make you proud.”

  “Sometimes she’s still too headstrong…too naive.”

  “Age will take care of that. Alan, you really ought to be in bed. You need to change clothes and get warm and dry.”

  After a few moments of silence, he asked, “What time is it?”

  “Around eleven. It’s time for more medicine. More liquids.”

  He hiked himself up and closed his eyes.

  “Still dizzy?”

  “Only when I move.”

  “Are you going to let me help you to your room?”

  His gaze was long and assessing as he stared at her. “Why are you doing this? Staying here with me.”

  “Because you need help.”

  “You’d do this for anyone who needed help?”

  “I’d like to think I would.”

  “Brian would have a fit if he knew you were here,” he muttered.

  “Are you worried about your partnership with him?”

  “No, but I’m worried about your relationship with him, whatever that is.”

  “I told you—”

  “Yeah, I know what you told me.” He swung his legs to the floor. “Carrie and Brian befriended you when you moved to Portland. Just how did you meet them, anyway?”

 

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