The Tycoon and the Texan

by Phyliss Miranda

  McCall lay motionless and took shallow breaths. She kept her eyes peeled on Nick, watching him roam around the campsite, stirring the ashes, restless. She never figured him for the fidgeting type. He seemed to know what he wanted and how to get it, although sometimes resorting to unorthodox methods to achieve his goal.

  Suddenly, she realized deep inside he might not be as cool and confident as he appeared on the surface. He had insecurities like anyone else. Like her. Nick just knew how to handle things better. After all, he had been trained in the ways of the bluebloods. He knew how to control his emotions. But then, she had forced him into a prickly position. A situation that needed correcting. Trying to conceal her desires and insecurities by pushing him away wasn’t the answer. She must put a stop to the charade. Now!

  “Hey, Slugger. Wanna spend the night with me?” She folded back the quilt.

  At the sound of McCall’s voice, Nick whipped his head up. “I thought you were asleep.” He rubbed his neck.

  “No. Just thinking. You must be cold.”

  “Did you forget I spent a frigid night on your porch?”

  “It wasn’t frigid and wasn’t the whole night. It was only a few minutes. I promise I’ll be good. I don’t like to see you uncomfortable. I’m willing to share the blanket.”

  “No thanks. It’s a bad idea.”

  “I see.”

  “That’s the problem, Angel Eyes, you don’t see. If you did, you’d realize that men and women are different—”

  “I’m not a child. I know—”

  “You might know about boys, but you certainly don’t have a lot of experience with men.”

  “Then go ahead and fill me in, Mr. Studly.”

  “We aren’t like running tap water, where you can adjust the hot and cold until we’re the perfect temperature.” His expression stilled and grew serious. “Men are more like drawing water direct from the hot water tank. We come out hot, steamy, and dangerous with no in-between. You can’t adjust us to your liking. Can’t just turn us off and on to your liking.”

  “Thanks for the maturation lesson, but this has nothing to do with the difference between men and women. It’s to punish me for how I acted earlier. You’d rather punish me and freeze than share a blanket?”

  “I’m not interested in punishing you or anybody, but I can’t lie next to you and not want you like any man wants a woman. I have needs. Even a pigheaded jerkass has his limits. And Angel Eyes, you pressed me way beyond mine tonight. I can’t do it again.”

  “I’m really sorry. I just never thought, well, I’m kinda, uh—”

  “A virgin?”

  “No. Not exactly.” She pulled the blanket up to her chin.

  “Either you are or you’re not, and if you don’t know the difference, then you’ve got real problems.” The gold in his eyes flickered with interest.

  “I know the difference.” She lowered her eyes, trying to avoid letting Nick see the shame in them. “Nick, I’ve had sex, but I’ve never had a man make—”

  “Make love to you?” He kept his eyes locked on hers.

  Was he testing the waters? She wasn’t sure.

  He hesitated before saying, “I see . . .”

  “No, you don’t.” It took all of her courage to tell him the truth. “I’ve had a man rut around on me like it was his God-given duty to mate.”

  Nick closed his eyes for a couple seconds, but said nothing.

  McCall took a deep breath and continued. “You’re the only man I’ve ever danced with who didn’t stay up-close-and-personal with my boobs, slobbering all over them.” She pushed aside the quilt and sat up to face him. “Daddy worked at the refinery with rough, tough, hard-working, drinking men. You have no idea what it was like growing up, maturing early, and—”

  “I know the kind of man you’re talking about. Had plenty working for me over the years.”

  “Nick, you’ve known what it’s like to have someone besides your family love you, care about you. I never have.”

  “How do you know so much about my love life? From Josie?”

  “No! Nick, I worked with you at the construction business, remember? I saw it. Heard it, and dreamed about it. I mean, I wished—”

  “That it was you with me?” His mouth curved into a smile.

  “Yeah, but not particularly because it was you—”

  “Thanks loads. You know how to deflate a man’s ego—”

  “I meant . . . I just wanted someone to look at me like I’ve seen you do with other women. Then one day I saw you watching me in the same way—”

  “And I promptly transferred you to the Foundation?” Nick tilted back his head and lifted his eyes to meet hers. A sad expression crept across his face as he slowly shook his head from side to side.

  “Yeah. And it hurt. I did a good job for you. But I also realized no matter what I did I’d never be good enough for you. Certainly I’m not socially adept or beautiful, but I still liked the way you looked at me. We had something special, a friendship—”

  “I’ve always valued your friendship, and you know it,” he said in almost a whisper.

  “I know, and our relationship got back on track when we didn’t have to work so close together. Then the gala came along, and your mother made me into one of those women you used to look at. I suddenly saw myself differently. One I liked. All decked out in ivory and beads, with your grandmother’s gorgeous necklace around my neck. I thought I just might be pretty enough for you.” She found herself studying his profile, searching for the answer. “And then Nick, you know what happened?”

  Slowly he shook his head and looked squarely in her eyes.

  “You looked at me like I’ve seen you look at those gorgeous, sexy women . . . like I was one of them.”

  “Do you know the reason I transferred you?”

  “I tried to figure it out for a long time, but finally stopped. I had my answer.” McCall shrugged.

  “You don’t know why. Nobody does. But I’ll tell you now. It was because I couldn’t work with you day in and day out without touching you . . . because I started seeing you like those other women. And McCall, you deserved better than a man who thinks if he asks a woman out twice she’ll want a change of address form from the post office. You didn’t deserve that kind of treatment. You’re better than that, and I knew it.”

  “So you didn’t transfer me to get rid of me?” She looked up more confused than ever.

  “Hell no!” Nick said firmly. “You distracted me. I found myself crawling up twenty stories of red iron, thinking about you. You were as dangerous as going around without my hard hat or safety harness on. You made me lose control, and I began to use poor judgment on the jobs. You were a distraction that I couldn’t afford. I did it to save you . . . from me.”

  “And, you don’t want to save me now?”

  “Mac, I want you so bad it hurts, but I don’t think you’re ready for that type of commitment.” Nick ran his hands through his hair then took a long audible breath. “You need to be courted.”

  “Courted? That sounds so old-fashioned.”

  “I’m just an old-fashioned guy. Anything wrong with that?”

  McCall slid off the quilt, crawled over to Nick, and kneeled before him. “Not a thing. I’ve never been courted.” She scooped his face up with her hands. “I want you to romance me. What comes first, Slugger? A kiss?”

  And he kissed her. A slow, sincere kiss that rushed through her like a wildfire.

  Nick finally released her. “Technically, you are now off the hook for the date.”

  “Technically, maybe I don’t want to be.”

  “I need to tell you something that might make you change your mind. I gave the thirty-thousand dollars to Mother’s foundation as a donation and never planned to buy a date. You or anyone else. I certainly didn’t plan to bid on Buffy—or whatever her name is—Armstrong. I was ordering a drink. So, the way I see it, in fairness, although I paid an extra twenty-one thousand for a weeklong date, I should let yo
u off the hook—”

  “Whoa, Slugger! Weeklong? I thought—”

  “I figured you didn’t hear the final bid because of the uproar in the crowd, but I outbid Mr. Testosterone with three thousand dollars a night for seven nights. If I hadn’t, you’d be spending the night with that, that—”

  “Mr. Testosterone, huh? That’s what you called him?” She raised a questioning eyebrow. “Then you ended up paying fifty-one thousand dollars for a date?” She raised both eyebrows as her eyes grew wide. “The original thirty thousand donation, plus three thousand dollars a night? Hypothetically, would you really pay that much? Even for a good cause like the foundation?”

  “Yes, and I’d pay that much again over, if it’d stop our catfights, give us a chance to really get to know one another, and see where our feelings are headed.”

  “Then it’s a done deal, Slugger. I have a week off, thanks to your mother. All I have to do is make arrangements for someone to deliver my Meals on Wheels and I’m all yours.”

  “But, I don’t have a week off. I didn’t read you all of Stanley’s note. After we left the boat, he got a call and I have to go up the coast on business by tomorrow. I’m sorry. It sure as hell would have helped if I had known before the Belle Poule Princess sailed, but without any telephone reception on the island, there was no way for him to let me know except with the note. It’s partly my fault, since I told him I didn’t want us to be disturbed for any reason. In the morning, once we’re picked up, the captain has to take me over to the Santa Barbara harbor, so I can get my car that Stanley’s driving there for me. He can take you back to LA then. Unless you want to—”

  “Want to what?”

  “Go with me. It’s only up to the Bay Area, although I have to make a couple quick stops in the Santa Ynez Valley.”

  “All I have is a shirt and shorts back on the boat.”

  “Not that you aren’t appealing in that bikini, but . . .”

  In a wisp of time, they struck an agreement to sail to Santa Barbara, make an impromptu shopping trek to pick up some clothes and various necessities, and she’d accompany him on the trip.

  “McCall, I want to show you that my world isn’t all that different from yours, so decide where you want to go. When my business is finished, we’ll go there. To Hearst Castle, Winchester Mansion, Lake Tahoe, Vegas. You name it, and it’s yours.”

  “Even go where it’s raining and the sun is shining?” she teased.

  “And where we can walk to a foreign country? Sure.”

  “Ever spent any time in Texas?” She slid her arms around his neck.

  “Nope, but I think I’m about to.” He pulled her tight to his chest.

  McCall nuzzled against his corded neck. “Nick, I’m through fighting, but I’m not ready to be your lover. Or anyone else’s.”

  “I’m not asking you to. Just open up your heart and look inside. See if there’s room there for me. I’m finished with making demands on you. Next time, it’ll be on your terms, but I’m warning you, I won’t call uncle again.” He thumped the tip of her nose lightly. “Understand?”

  “Understood.” She kissed him lightly on the lips. “No more secrets between us?”

  “Promise. No more secrets.”

  Chapter Ten

  Nick eased his sleek, red Jag convertible along the Pacific Coast Highway in the Santa Ynez Valley. As the sun perched overhead, they topped a hill leading into Lompoc.

  McCall let out an audible gasp. “The fields are beautiful.”

  “I told you that I was going to take the scenic route and the little extra time would be worth it. Now was I right or not?”

  Multicolored fields of zinnias, sweet peas, petunias, and a purple blossom he didn’t recognize carpeted the vale and swept upward on the hillside. Row after row of grapevines stood at attention in the adjacent vineyards.

  “Oh yes. I’ve seen the strawberry fields around LA, but this is nothing in comparison. I’ve heard of the flower fields, but I never imagined them to be this beautiful.” A smile lightened her face. She turned toward Nick. “And I’ve never seen a sexier man in all my born days. The way the wind is whipping your hair backwards is kinda like the way the ocean breeze did yesterday. And of course being a Texan, any man in Levi’s and boots sets my heart fluttering.” An easy smile played at the corners of her mouth.

  “Oh shucks, ma’am, you’re gonna make me blush.” He smiled back at her. “Is that the way they say it in Texas?”

  “It’ll work.”

  “When do I get to wear that there Stetson you made me buy?” He motioned toward the backseat with his head.

  “Whenever you don’t want to chase it for two miles when it blows off.” She laughed in a loving way. “Or drive with one hand holding it on and the other on the wheel.” Quickly she added, “But I’m enjoying riding with the top down.”

  Nick knew one thing—if the wind would blow off a ball cap on the open road, he wasn’t about to try a cowboy hat to see if there was a difference. No doubt she thought he’d never worn a Stetson, or ridden a horse either, but he’d just keep that knowledge to himself. She seemed relaxed and enjoying herself, so he didn’t want to do anything that would mess it up.

  He settled back and enjoyed the faint smell of her perfume mingled with the scents of freshly cultivated fields and strawberries wafting in the air.

  “I wish we’d had time to locate a thrift store. Hopefully, I didn’t max out my credit card, but I had no choice but to purchase a few things or go home.” McCall pushed a strand of stray hair that had escaped the Scunci that tied her tumbled curls behind her head.

  “You had a choice. I offered to pay, but since your stubbornness wouldn’t allow me the pleasure, I’ll just have to see that you get a raise to make up for it.” Nick sped up to pass a slower moving vehicle.

  “No, you won’t do anything of the sort. If I get a raise, it’ll be because I’ve worked hard and deserve one, not because you told your mother to give me one. Understand?”

  “Understood, but—”

  “No buts about it.” McCall turned her attention to the roadside.

  Nick changed the subject, knowing his efforts were futile. “I hope you kept that cute little black number.”

  Just the thought of how sensual and exciting she looked twirling around in the slinky gown made him hard in a very delicate place. He shifted his weight to his left hip in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure hugging the zipper of his Levis.

  “Yes, but where are we going that requires such a nice dress?”

  “I’d planned to surprise you. I made reservations at the Venetian Ballroom of the Fairmont in San Francisco.” He twisted again pulling at the leg of his Levi’s to loosen their grip. He needed something to draw his attention away from his discomfort. “The flowers are pretty, aren’t they?”

  “Absolutely beautiful.” She shot him a flirtatious smile. “Almost as dazzling as what I’ve heard about the ballroom.”

  “I think you’ll enjoy it. The plants along here are used for seeds and cut flowers. Big business.” He needed a distraction in the worse way. “Along with lettuce. Lots of lettuce. Tons of lettuce. The blue-green fields are cabbage, and, as you know, the ones covered with plastic are strawberries. And horses, lots of horse ranches around here.” Nick swallowed. He knew he was rambling, but he had to do something to take his mind off the ache that had forcefully turned into old-fashioned pain below his waist.

  He kept his eyes peeled on the winding road. His mind galloped somewhat like the sorrel trotting along the stark-white fence line.

  He’d like to give McCall a whole pasture of thoroughbreds, if that was what she wanted.

  The knot in Nick’s stomach tightened. He fought off his desire to think about the future. One with McCall. He couldn’t fall in love with the Texan, but it might already be too late.

  If he found himself in love, there would be consequences. His mother would never allow it because she thought every woman he dated was a gold-digger, par
ticularly his ex-fiancée Lauren DePaul. And, she was certainly more affluent and had a tougher shell than McCall.

  From the start, Madeline had voiced her disapproval of Lauren. He never should have proposed knowing how his mother felt. He thought he’d eventually win her over. No luck. So, the mini-nuptials ended when Lauren walked out of their engagement party leaving Nick standing with a champagne glass in his hand and a toast on his lips.

  Lauren’s explanation—he should marry his mother!

  Madeline’s explanation—Lauren needed a Botox detox program, preferably in San Quentin.

  Nick suspected that McCall had heard about his engagement fiasco, but was lady enough not to participate in the gossip. However, he felt sure she didn’t know the sordid details.

  But as his and McCall’s delicate relationship seemed to take on a life of its own, he could take comfort knowing his mother liked McCall. She certainly trusted her, as shown by allowing her to wear a family heirloom necklace. Even taking it home with her. Maddi also seemed to be protective of her, as a mother would nurture her child. Surely, as an employee, not as her son’s girlfriend . . . of her daughter-in-law.

  Damnation! He had gone from thinking of her as a friend, to a girlfriend, to a lover, and now a wife! That kind of thinking could scare a man, especially one who didn’t care to be left standing alone at another engagement party.

  Nick wanted to protect the feisty Texan, yet he might be placing her in a position that could potentially hurt her more than anything he could have ever done.

  Damn it, he didn’t need this distraction. He had a ball team to keep on the road, a construction business to run, that damnable foundation to preside over, and a cussed mother to deal with, not to mention a horse ranch to buy. He couldn’t allow McCall to get a stronger grip on his heart, and certainly didn’t want to put someone he cared about through the Elliott-Dartmouth scrutiny.