“Dance with me.”
She looked up and took a reflexive step backward. She’d been so lost in the dysfunctional dynamics of her family that she’d momentarily forgotten her unknown guest. Now he was standing in front of her, tall, broad-shouldered and a bit overpowering.
And his eyes, she finally saw, were a startling amber. “Who are you?”
“Someone who would like very much to dance with you.”
His voice reverberated deep inside her, warm and compelling, like a playful silken ribbon that dipped and curved throughout her, making her heart pound like a bass drum.
His amber eyes held her gaze. His name. She didn’t know his name.
It didn’t matter.
He took her hand, and suddenly she found herself on the dance floor, and she wasn’t entirely certain how she’d gotten there. Surely she’d told him no.
Apparently not.
His arms were strong as they held her to his hard body. His dance steps were smooth, so that following him was easy, which allowed her to register other things. Such as the heat his body generated—it had the power to melt an iceberg.
This was a man who was definitely confident with his own sexuality and did nothing to hold it back. In addition, those amber eyes of his held dark, intriguing depths she hadn’t expected. And his skin was bronzed to a beautiful golden brown that made her think he must spend a great deal of time outdoors. His dark brown hair was almost outshone by streaks that could only have been put there by the brightness of the sun.
Truly he could be a sun god.
If she believed in such things.
Still, all her instincts were shouting at her that she would be safer if she simply walked away from him. There was just one problem. She wasn’t certain she could. His body had suddenly become her own private universe’s center of gravity.
Thankfully, she could still think, and truthfully, she was way too curious to attempt to leave him at this point. “Were you invited to my party?”
“No.”
Just the single word. No explanation, as if none was needed. “Did you come with one of my guests?”
“No.”
A shiver raced down her spine. He was studying her as if she were a book he was trying to learn, yet he wasn’t asking any questions. He was leaving that to her.
“Then why are you here?”
“Because of you.” His voice was soft, yet intense and with a faint trace of some dark emotion. “You’re really quite beautiful, you know. I didn’t expect it.”
“You didn’t…?”
He slowly shook his head, his gaze never once leaving her.
She found herself speechless. She felt as if he’d isolated her from the rest of the world, yet she was surrounded by friends, none of whom seemed the least bit alarmed that she was dancing with a perfect stranger who radiated a barely contained electric energy and thus danger.
But then, they couldn’t see what she was seeing, nor could they feel what he was making her feel.
A dark fire simmered in the depths of his remarkable eyes—eyes, she was convinced, that, if he chose, he could use like a lethal weapon. With a single glance he would be able to mow down anyone who got in his way or, conversely, reach across the terrace and touch her, making her aware of him in every part of her body. And that had been when they were yards from each other.
Now, as she danced with him, he was having an even greater impact on her. She couldn’t have said what the band was playing. She only knew that the two of them were moving slowly, sensually and in perfect unison. And, oddly, it seemed very right.
Her reaction didn’t make sense.
He didn’t make sense.
The sun had almost set, leaving behind fading streaks of red, orange and gold just above the horizon. The lights around the dance floor and in the trees had come on, yet he remained every bit as powerful, as elemental and as comfortable as he had been with the sun behind him.
“Happy birthday, Tess,” someone called.
“Thank you,” she said, blindly glancing in the direction of the voice, then immediately looked back at him, the man whose heat had melted her and whose strength had molded her against him with ease. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, her legs rubbed against the steel of his thighs. She didn’t even know his name, yet the aggressive, masculine force of his body impacted her every cell, bringing out feminine urges and needs so new, she wasn’t sure what to do with them.
“You throw a great party,” he murmured.
“Thank you. It was so good of you to come.”
For the first time he smiled at her—a partial smile, a knowing smile, a completely self-assured smile. And the effect was a shock of electricity that bolted straight through her and made her catch her breath. A full smile from him might stop her heart.
Her hand moved restlessly over his shoulder, the fine cut and expensive cloth of his dark suit adding one more piece to the puzzle of him. Simply by dancing with him, she was coming to know his body well, and she could tell his strength didn’t come from bulky muscles but rather the lean, elongated muscles of a natural athlete. Yet another piece. “Do you make it a practice to crash parties?”
“Actually, this is my first.”
“And are you having a good time?”
“So far I can’t complain.”
“If you’ll tell me your name, I might put you on the guest list for next year. Or would you just prefer to crash again?”
“Neither. I’m afraid I can’t wait a year to see you again.”
“Why—” Someone bumped against her back. Protectively, he tightened his hold on her and circled her in another direction.
“Hey, Sis. Happy birthday.”
She looked around, then inwardly sighed. She should have known. No one but her youngest sister, Kit, would deliberately bump into her. And no one but Kit would have dressed for what she knew to be a dressy affair in a tight T-shirt, even tighter jeans and a pair of Western boots that Tess knew for a fact were eight years old and looked twelve. “Thank you.”
The man didn’t relinquish his hold on her, but he did allow room for her to turn toward her sister.
“Is Des coming?” Kit asked, all the while doing some sort of dance that amazingly fit the music.
Kit’s red hair was flying; her green eyes were sparkling. Her arms were in the air, and her hips and feet were moving in a way that not only looked incredibly sexy but made Tess feel a tinge of envy that Kit could move so uninhibitedly. Kit’s partner was someone she didn’t know, but from the looks of his jeans, Western-cut shirt and boots, she guessed he might be a new hire at the family ranch.
“I don’t know. Des didn’t RSVP.”
Kit came to an abrupt stop, though her partner didn’t seem to notice and kept on dancing. “Des couldn’t be more exasperating if he tried, and I sometimes suspect he does.”
“You got it.”
Tess knew that Kit’s aim in bringing one of the ranch hands to her party and dressing like she had almost every day of her life since she’d gotten out of diapers was to flout tradition and embarrass her sisters. But what Kit didn’t realize was that she looked better in her jeans and T-shirt than half the women at the party whose dresses had come from Neiman Marcus. And a cursory glance at the crowd showed her that at least three of her single friends and two of the married ones were openly salivating over Kit’s date.
Kit hooked her thumbs in her pockets and flashed Tess’s dance partner a smile that revealed a perfect set of dimples. “Who’s your date, Sis?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea.”
Kit’s eyebrows rose. “Cool,” she said, her tone for once sincere. Then she danced away.
The man laughed, a deep chuckle.
Drawing away from him, she looked at him. “Is there some reason you won’t tell me your name? Like maybe you’re at the top of the FBI’s Most Wanted list?”
“No.”
“Then tell me.”
He shrugged. “The thing is, I
doubt my name will mean anything to you.”
She exhaled a long breath, reaching for patience. “Why don’t you let me decide that? I’m tired of this little game you’re playing. Tell me or I’m going to walk away.”
A slow smile spread across his face, this smile even more powerful than his last. “Ah…a threat from the birthday girl.”
She refused to be affected by his smile, though she could feel the futility of her resistance as it slipped by the moment. “Are you or are you not going to tell me?”
“Nick Trejo. My name is Nick Trejo.”
The name sounded vaguely familiar, but for the life of her, she couldn’t place it. “Okay, you’re right. It doesn’t mean anything to me.”
“I didn’t think it would.”
“Uh-huh. Okay. Let me try another tack. How did you know about this party tonight?”
“I’ve made it my business to find out as much as possible about you.”
Suddenly cautious, she stared at him, wondering if she could figure him out if she stared at him long enough. But no. He wasn’t giving anything away—not by expression, and certainly not by words.
“Don’t worry. I’m not a stalker.”
“No? Then, Nick Trejo, I think it’s past time you told me what you want.”
“That’s easy,” he said, pulling her against him while his amber gaze held steady on her. “I want peace on earth, food and shelter enough for every living being, but right now I’m satisfied just to be dancing with you.” His voice turned raspy. “You feel good against me. You fit me.”
One minute he had her regarding him with caution, the next he had her melting with heat. And she couldn’t very well protest or say she didn’t understand what he was saying, since from the beginning of their dance, her body had involuntarily molded itself to his and there had been nothing she could do about it.
One song had stopped. Another had begun. An intimate cloud of music settled around the party and mingled with the night’s scents to mesmerize, tantalize. But it all paled in comparison to him.
“Did I tell you that you look beautiful?”
She couldn’t remember if he had or not. In fact, she was having trouble remembering anything. It was as if he had taken her over, body, mind and soul. She wasn’t used to being called beautiful, and she certainly had never thought of herself that way. Not with Jill as a sister.
Abruptly, she tore herself from his arms. “I need something to drink.”
“It’s your party,” he said mildly. “I imagine you can have anything you want.”
“You’re right.” Fully aware that he was following her, she threaded her way through the dancers, a smile pasted on her face for her friends, but barely acknowledging their comments.
“A shot of whiskey with a beer chaser, please,” she told the bartender as soon as she reached the bar. It was a unique request for her, but tonight she felt the need for something stronger than her usual beer. She glanced at Nick. “What would you like?”
“Since I’m not an official guest at the party, I wouldn’t presume.”
She gave a short laugh. “More than you have already, you mean? Give me a break. You’ve already crashed the party. What’s one drink?” She glanced at the bartender. “Give him the same thing, please.” She couldn’t see a man like Nick Trejo drinking anything else, certainly not the margaritas that were flowing more freely than water tonight.
Nick shook his head at the bartender, then returned his gaze to her. “I hate to tell you this, Tess, but I truly haven’t yet started to presume. Believe me when I say you’ll know when I do.”
Jill walked to the bar. “A margarita, please. Tess, have you heard anything from Des since we last talked?”
“No.” She’d been dealing with Nick, trying to retain her mental balance while she played his guessing game. At the same time, she’d been fighting to keep her body from completely betraying how much she had enjoyed being held against him. And it had all taken more out of her than she had realized, leaving her with zero patience for Jill and her preoccupation with landing Des.
“Okay.” Jill threw an assessing gaze at Nick, then at her. “I think I’ll try to locate him by phone.”
“Fine. Do that. And be sure to mention how much I’ve missed him tonight.” Even though she knew Jill would ignore her request, she’d thrown it in to nettle her sister.
For the first time in what seemed hours, she forced herself to draw a deep breath and look away from Nick. A quick assessment of her party showed her that it was going strong, but she caught several surreptitious glances from some of her closer friends, and she knew why. They’d never before seen her allow one man to monopolize her time as she had with Nick. Except there had been no allowing on her part. He was like a force that she had no defenses against. It was past time she rectified that.
The bartender placed her requested shot of whiskey and mug of beer in front of her. She picked up the whiskey, but sipped.
“Okay, Nick, I’m ready to admit it. You’ve got me completely baffled. Why on earth do you want to see me and why here? If it’s about business—and it must be, since we haven’t met before tonight, and you’ve assured me you aren’t a stalker—why didn’t you simply call my office and make an appointment?”
“Let’s step away from the bar,” Nick murmured, taking the shot glass from her and setting it on the bar. Then, with his hand at her elbow, he led her to a less populated area of the terrace. And she went with him, telling herself it was because she was curious and not because she couldn’t refuse him.
When they reached a corner of the terrace where a profusion of sweet-scented Maid of Orleans star-flowered jasmine grew, Nick turned to her. “I tried for weeks to get an appointment with you, Tess, and couldn’t get one.”
“Who did you talk to?”
“Your assistant, Ron Hughes. Actually, I spoke with him on almost a daily basis, but he would never put me through to you or even give me an appointment. He kept insisting you had no time to see me.”
She shrugged. “Well, that’s true. My schedule is always packed, especially lately, with the details for my new offshore venture.” Normally she wouldn’t tell someone who was practically a stranger the reason she was busy, but something told her Nick already knew the reason. Her curiosity grew stronger. “Still, I notice Ron couldn’t stop you from getting to me.”
“That would have been hard for anyone to do.”
She could only stare. If he’d looked amazing with the sun surrounding him, he looked astounding by moonlight. The moon’s silver light threaded its way through his sun-streaked hair and touched his bronzed skin, cooling down his coloring—in a way, gentling it. Perhaps someone less suspecting than she would, at first glance, think him tame.
She knew better.
The moon might be offering him camouflage, and at the moment he might be masterfully controlling his innate power, but his amber eyes still held the intensity that earlier that evening had been able to reach across the terrace to her. She had no doubt that, if he chose, he could sear layers from her skin with just a glance.
“What’s so important to you? What did you tell Ron you wanted to see me about?”
His gaze was level, his tone assured. “I wanted to ask you to stop your drilling as soon as possible.”
She couldn’t help it—she laughed. “No wonder he turned you down. Such a request is preposterous.”
A muscle jumped in his cheek. “From most people, maybe. But then you and I aren’t most people, and you haven’t heard my reasons yet.”
She didn’t think she’d ever heard anything as ludicrous as his request. Obviously he knew nothing about the oil business and even less about her business dealings. “It doesn’t matter what your reasons are. There’s no way I’ll stop.”
He surprised her then. With another one of his slight smiles, he circled her throat with his fingers and stroked her skin with his thumb in an almost casual manner that completely derailed her thoughts. “You’re a very ambitious wo
man, Tess Baron, but somehow, I think I have a chance to change your mind.”
“You’re crazy,” she whispered, as the heat from his touch backed up in her lungs.
“Maybe, but will you at least give me a chance to explain what my reasons are?”
“I—I can’t. The party-”
“Not tonight. Tomorrow. I’ll meet you for breakfast, wherever and whenever you say.”
She’d known him for only a short time, but she already knew that saying no to him would do no good. If nothing else, his actions tonight had showed her that he was determined to give her an explanation of some sort. Plus, there was an annoying feeling of excitement inside her building at the prospect of getting to see him again. “Okay. Tomorrow morning for breakfast. Here at nine.”
“Good,” he said softly, his hand still at her neck, his long fingers moving up and down her throat. “Very good.” Then he bent his head and kissed her, slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, and thoroughly, devouring her taste as if he wanted to make it a part of him so that he could take it with him. By the time he lifted his head, she had to reach out for the terrace balustrade in order not to fall.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
She could only nod and watch as he slipped through an opening in the terrace railing and disappeared into the night.
Gradually and with great effort she pulled herself together. Once her breathing had evened and her pulse had steadied, she returned to the bar and downed the rest of her whiskey. Ignoring the beer, she ordered a large margarita. With it firmly in her hand, she rejoined her party.
Around four in the morning, when the last of her guests had either left or gone to their rooms, and she’d had way more margaritas than she should have, she slipped into her bed. And she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen in five hours when she saw Nick Trejo again.
Why was he so sure he could convince her to stop drilling? Then again, his reason didn’t really matter. He was wrong. There was nothing more important to her than striking oil as soon as possible, then pumping it into the pipeline at a record rate. And she couldn’t allow anyone or anything to stop her.
The Barons of Texas: Tess Page 2
