TexasKnightsBundle

by Unknown

  “You’re doing a pretty super job of cheering me so far.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  “Now I’m staying at this hotel since I couldn’t go home tonight because of the storms,” she said, sipping her wine.

  “You don’t have a northern accent. Hmm—where does the pretty lady live?”

  “You’re on a need-to-know basis tonight and that’s another one of those things you don’t need to know,” she said, her dimple showing.

  “Maybe,” he said. She wore a delicate golden bracelet that was a chain on her right wrist. He touched it. “A gift from a boyfriend?”

  “No. A gift from a friend.”

  He arched his eyebrow and looked at the necklace around her slender neck. An intricate emerald cross hung on a thick golden chain. “And the necklace?” he asked, leaning forward to pick it up, his knuckles lightly brushing her throat, but he felt the contact to his toes, and from the flicker in the depths of her green eyes, he suspected that she felt something, too.

  “Is your necklace from the same friend?”

  “No, it isn’t. The cross is a family heirloom. Have you ever heard of Stallion Pass, Texas?”

  “Yes, I have,” Boone said in a noncommittal voice, keeping his expression bland, but inwardly he was startled because she was linked to Stallion Pass, Texas, so she must live somewhere in the area. The ranch he had inherited was near Stallion Pass. Maybe he could get this mystery woman to reveal her address.

  “It’s a small Texas town near here.” He continued to turn the necklace in his hand, lightly brushing her throat with his knuckles. Each contact was electric, and he noticed that her voice had grown more breathless. He looked into her eyes and could feel the tension between them increase as the air sparked around them.

  In a primitive, sexual way, she was responding to his light touches and his outrageous flirting.

  “Do you know the legend of Stallion Pass?” she persisted.

  “Something about a horse—I don’t know the specifics,” Boone said, remembering that his friend Jonah Whitewolf had received a white stallion when he got married. There was talk about the legend, but Boone hadn’t paid close attention at the time because he had little interest in horses or legends.

  “The name comes from an old legend,” she explained, “where it was said that an Apache warrior fell in love with a U.S. cavalryman’s daughter and persuaded her to run off and marry him. On the night the warrior was to come get her, he was killed by cavalrymen. His ghost was said to be a white stallion that forever roams these parts searching for his lost love. And according to legend, if anyone catches the stallion and tames him, that person will find true love.”

  “So that’s where the town gets its name?” Boone asked, gazing steadily into her eyes while she talked. Once again, they were mere inches apart across the narrow table. He was only partially listening to her because the rest of his attention was heating in a fiery attraction that all but made the air crackle between them. As she talked, her words became more breathless and her voice lower. Her gaze never wavered from his. His only contact with her was his fist holding her necklace, yet the longing to kiss her was multiplying exponentially.

  “Right,” she replied, her words slowing. “There have been wild white stallions in these parts off and on through the years, so their presence has always fueled the legend.”

  He ran his fingers over the cross. “So where does this cross come in?”

  “The maiden was brokenhearted to learn of her warrior’s death. Instead of marrying a man selected by her father, she entered a convent. According to our family history, this was her necklace and it has been passed down through the years. We are supposed to be descended from her family. She had a brother who married and had children and the necklace was passed down in that manner.”

  “Giving credence—somewhat—to the old legend.”

  As she talked, he ran his fingers over the cross and felt an inscription on the back. He turned it over in his hand. And read, “Bryony.” He looked up in question, rubbing her jaw lightly with his knuckles while he continued to hold the cross in his hand.

  “So your name isn’t Bryony?” he asked.

  “No, it’s not. Bryony was her name.”

  The waiter approached bearing their salads, and Boone leaned back, dropping her necklace and brushing his knuckles across her collarbone when he did so.

  Over tossed green salads, Boone said, “You’re a Texan and maybe you live in Austin.”

  When she gave him a mysterious smile, he knew he wasn’t going to get affirmation or denial. “You know this area if you’re familiar with Stallion Pass and you couldn’t get home because of storms. It’s clear to the north because I flew in from there, but they’ve had storms moving through from west to east, so I’m guessing you must live in Austin and have to spend tonight here.”

  “And you’re from…?” she asked.

  “Near Kansas City,” he replied, amused that she was trying to keep the conversation off herself. “I’ll guess you work in television, in front of the cameras in some manner,” he continued.

  “You think so? This salad is delicious.”

  “Yes. If you were a singer or movie star or famous model, I’d recognize you. It must be television. You’re far too pretty to be stuck back behind stacks of ledgers figuring out payrolls.”

  “That’s ridiculous! You think I can’t do that? You think there aren’t some pretty bookkeepers out there?” she asked, her eyebrows arching while she sounded mildly indignant.

  “There may be gorgeous bookkeepers out there, and I’m sure you could do whatever you set your mind to—I’ve already glimpsed you taking charge—I just don’t think that’s what you do. I think you’re in television. An anchorwoman, weatherperson. You do some kind of show.”

  “You’re not ever going to know,” she said softly, leaning toward him with a twinkle in her eyes. “I will win our bet.”

  His pulse jumped again because she was giving him another challenge.

  “We’ll see. In the meantime, let’s see what you will tell me about yourself. Brothers or sisters?”

  “One sister who is divorced and lives in California and is a bookkeeper and is very pretty.”

  He grinned. “Okay, I walked into that one, but I said that there could be pretty bookkeepers, I just don’t think you’re one. Will you tell me her name?”

  “Mary. Plain and simple. She’s an older sister. You’re probably an only child or the only male with sisters.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You look like a man accustomed to getting his way from early childhood. And especially getting his way with females.”

  “Why would you think I’d get my way with females in particular?” he persisted, enjoying flirting with her.

  “You know full well the effect you have most of the time on females.”

  “Most of the time—that means this isn’t one of them.”

  She shrugged, but the sparkle was still in her eyes, and he suspected she was enjoying the flirting more than she was willing to admit. “It’s interesting to eat with you tonight, and I’ve had a long, tedious day,” she said.

  “Interesting. On a score of one to ten, I’d say ‘interesting’ is a five.”

  “Interesting is fun. And a five is good,” she replied.

  “Dang!” he exclaimed, mildly annoyed. “‘Fun’ and ‘good’ are not how I want to be known. Those are two bland descriptions if I ever heard any! I’ll have to remedy the way the evening is going.” A roll of thunder gave them both pause, and she looked out the window.

  “Look at the rain!” she exclaimed. For the first time she sounded sincerely upset, and a slight frown creased her forehead. As rain drummed against the windows and water streamed down the glass in rivulets, Boone glanced at the swimming pool. Glittering bubbles popped up where raindrops hit.

  “Sorry,” he said. “You’ll get home tomorrow morning, I’m sure. This will clear off and move on.”


  She bit her lower lip, and he stared, wanting to feel her full lips against his, wanting to kiss her. Her attention swung back to him and she blinked, and he guessed that briefly, she had forgotten him. Few times in his life had he had women forget, ignore or rebuff him, and the unique experience was both a challenge and exasperating.

  The waiter brought their steaks and hot, baked potatoes sprinkled with chives. Then he uncorked a bottle of red wine that Boone had ordered to go with the steaks and filled new glasses.

  As they cut into the juicy meat, thunder rattled the windows and another flash of lightning tore across the sky.

  “We’re getting a deluge,” she said, sounding concerned.

  “It’ll pass and we’re warm and cozy, enjoying delicious steaks and an unforgettable evening.”

  “It’s going to be unforgettable, all right.”

  He reached over to take her hand, and her eyes flew wide as she looked at him.

  “You can’t do anything about the rain, and it will go away. No Noah’s Ark needed here. Enjoy your dinner and let go of the worries. Let’s have another toast.” He released her hand and picked up his wineglass. “Here’s to sunshine in the morning and excitement tonight.”

  She picked up her wine to sip. “I think I’m getting woozy from the wine.”

  “The steak dinner will take away the effects of the wine. Enjoy yourself and forget the cares of the day.”

  “I will.” She took a bite of steak, closing her eyes as she chewed and he stared. She was one of the sexiest women he had ever known. He barely knew her—not even knowing her name, much less her phone number—and as far as she was concerned, she was going to walk out of his life and never see him again. He had no intention of letting that happen.

  “This is the best steak I’ve had in a long time,” she said. “I was famished. We had peanuts on the plane, but that doesn’t do it when you’ve missed lunch, and breakfast was orange juice and coffee.”

  Another clap of thunder shook the panes and lightning flashed, giving a silvery brightness to the world outside. In seconds another brilliant flash crackled and then a loud bang came from outside. Inside the restaurant, the lights flickered and went off.

  “Oh, my!” she said.

  “It may be temporary,” Boone stated, digging in his pocket and pulling out a small flashlight. At the same time, she removed a small flashlight from her purse and switched it on. They looked at each other and laughed as they placed the flashlights on the table.

  “So we think alike on some things,” Boone said. “We each carry flashlights for emergencies.”

  “Even if it’s as dark as a cave, I’m eating this steak,” she declared.

  “So am I. Here comes our waiter.”

  The waiter approached with a candle in a hurricane glass and Boone noticed that other waiters were bringing out candles.

  “This is just a temporary power outage,” the waiter said as he moved glasses and set the candle in the center of the table. “A transformer has blown, and they hope to restore power soon. Can I get you anything else?”

  “We’re fine,” Boone said, watching the white-coated man refill their wineglasses. If she was getting any kind of buzz from drinking her wine, it wasn’t apparent to him. She was as guarded about her personal life as she had been when they sat down.

  He touched the flashlights. “You’re a practical person.”

  “Where were we when the storm interrupted the conversation?” she asked, once again moving the conversation away from herself.

  “You said you thought I was an only child or had sisters. You’re half-right,” he replied. “I have sisters and brothers. There were nine of us.”

  “Wow! I’ll bet you’re the oldest.”

  “That’s right and now I know better than to pursue why you think that,” he replied. “If I guess your first name, would you tell me if I’m right?”

  “Of course not! We have a bet that I would tell you, not that you’d guess. Remember? I want my chocolate bar. I’ll take it up to my room and curl up in bed with it and read and listen to the rain,” she said, sipping her red wine.

  “I can think of some other things that would be more exciting to curl up in bed with than a chocolate bar and a book.”

  “I’m sure you can. You’re not a big reader, then.”

  “I like to read. I just like other things to curl up in bed with.”

  “So what do you like to read?”

  He named his favorite authors, and she nodded about some. As conversation shifted to books, he discovered how she spent a chunk of her time.

  “Here comes our waiter again,” she said.

  “We expect to have electricity soon,” the white-coated man said when he paused at their table. He had a sack in his hand and produced a bottle of white wine. “Compliments of the house. We’re sorry for any inconvenience tonight because of the lights.”

  “Thanks,” Boone said when the waiter returned the bottle into the sack and set it on the table.

  When they finished eating, Boone had the dinners put on his room bill in spite of her protests. They talked about books a few more minutes until he took her hand. “Let’s go to the lounge. I can hear music, and we can dance.”

  She inhaled and he saw a flicker of eagerness in her eyes and he knew she was debating whether or not to accept his offer. Still holding her hand, he stood and pushed away his chair. “C’mon, mystery lady. A few dances will be a pleasure. You’re safe with me.”

  “I think you’re the biggest danger I’ve encountered in a long, long time,” she said softly.

  Two

  “T hat’s progress,” her handsome escort replied. “Knowing I’m dangerous to you just moved me out of ‘fun’ and ‘good’ for the evening.”

  Knowing she should say no yet unable to resist, Erin picked up her flashlight and purse and handed him his flashlight. When her fingers brushed his, she drew a sharp breath. The slightest contact with him tonight had been electric. He was irresistible and he knew it and she was certain he had left an abundance of broken hearts strewn in his past. With all her being she was trying to keep a wall between them because there was a volatile chemistry that had sparked to life the first moment she had looked into his blue eyes in the hotel elevator.

  He was so incredibly handsome! All evening it had been an effort to keep from staring at him.

  In the dark lounge, he led her to a corner table. The place was half filled and a few couples circled the dance floor. Two walls were dark paneling with hunting pictures, mirrors backed the bar and the fourth wall was French doors opening to a terrace. Each table had a candle, and the entire bar was in semidarkness, yet with the candlelight, the room held a cozy atmosphere.

  She watched while her new acquaintance ordered glasses of white wine. Golden candlelight flickered over his well-shaped hands. Her gaze drifted up. The yellow candlelight highlighted his prominent cheekbones and threw the hollows of his cheeks into shadows. His sexy, thickly lashed bedroom eyes guaranteed easy conquests and his full lower lip hinted at sensuality.

  When she looked at his thick, wavy brown hair that was neatly trimmed above the strong column of his neck, she knew she was openly staring, but he was the handsomest man she had ever known. Only she didn’t really know him and she was wary of his flirting. All her life the only men she had dated were men she had known as friends. She never had blind dates, had never had a flash encounter that resulted in something more.

  A short-sleeved navy sport shirt revealed this man’s impressive muscles that indicated he either worked out daily or was into a job that took a lot of physical labor.

  She already knew his broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist and trim hips. The sexy, charismatic man was dangerously appealing.

  Unaccustomed to alcohol in any degree, she knew she should stop drinking wine, because she needed her wits to deal with such a heady combination of male sexuality and charm. And she suspected he was intent on seduction.

  Her day had been dreadfu
l. When she had flown into town, she had been exhausted and hungry only to be accosted in the hotel parking lot, adding to the miserable day. Encountering her dinner companion in the elevator with his cocky charm had made her smile and relax. All his talk about how gorgeous she was—she was certain he heaped the same compliments on any woman he dated. Still it was nice to be the object of those compliments.

  She had wanted to get off the elevator and forget about him, but the man was too handsome to easily erase from memory. And in the elevator there had been sparks of attraction between them. She had felt it and she knew he did, but then, he probably experienced sparks with most of the females he encountered.

  The moment she had stepped into the restaurant and spotted him across the room, her pulse had leaped.

  Maybe it was the wine, but she felt exhilarated. All her tiredness and worries of the day had evaporated, and she had appeased hunger with a delicious steak dinner.

  He stood and held out his hand. “Let’s dance.”

  Taking his hand, tingles sizzling from that impersonal contact, she went with him to the dance floor, stepping into his arms and onto dangerous ground. Now she was in his arms, and every nerve in her body quivered. She could detect a tangy aftershave. Her thighs brushed his thighs. She was held lightly against him and she could feel the warmth of his body.

  Giddy and breathless, she told herself it was the effects of the wine, but she knew it wasn’t. It was the man.

  Dancing was paradise, and her partner was fascinating. How long since she had danced? She couldn’t remember. Probably last Christmas’s barn dance at the Kellogg ranch.

  His arm tightened slightly, pulling her closer. They danced together with an ease that surprised her. At five-eight, she usually didn’t have to look up to men she was with, but she did now. He was well over six feet tall.

  The next song was a fast number, and he swung into it without asking her. She danced around him, caught in the intensity of his blue-eyed gaze, knowing she enticed him just as he excited her. He caught her and spun her around, leaning over her, and for an instant they were frozen as she clung to him and gazed up into his eyes and saw the longing in their depths.