The Texas CEO's Secret

by Nicole Foster

  He radiated tension and Katie searched for something to take his mind off business and fund-raisers and gossipy patrons. “We need to find an activity that doesn’t involve party planning or politics.”

  “I might have an idea.”

  “And that is?”

  With a provoking half smile, he turned the Porsche sharply to the right. “Trust me.”

  In a short while they were on their way up the long, towering pine-tree-lined drive to an exclusive Dallas golf club.

  “Golf?” she asked with a laugh.

  “Just nine holes. You can still get a couple hours in at the office if you really have to.”

  “The day is shot. I’ll double-time it tomorrow. I didn’t know you played golf.”

  “All work and no play…I’m glad I can still surprise you.” He shifted the car to a sharp stop in a premiere parking spot at the formal entry to the club.

  “You’re surprising me every day lately.”

  “Good.” In one swift move he was out of the car and holding her door open. “Wouldn’t want to bore you.”

  She shook her head. “Not a chance of that.”

  They strode together beneath the forest-green awning that canopied the entryway. “I don’t have clothes,” she said, swiping her palms down her tailored suit.

  “We can fix that. I have an account in the pro shop.”

  In no time he and the salesgirl outfitted Katie in an attractive powder-blue golf skirt, white golf shirt, socks, shoes, gloves and hat. They both removed to separate dressing rooms to change and by the time she found him with the caddy, he’d secured her irons and a golf cart.

  She caught his approving once-over before she climbed in beside him, noting a bottle of white wine in an icy bucket joined their clubs in the back of the cart.

  “You look great.”

  “Thanks, but fair warning, my golf is somewhere along the lines of my skiing, you know, snow bunny style? I have all of the trappings, but none of the skill.”

  “We’re here for relaxation, not competition. For all I care we can just ride around in this thing and drink wine.” With that he stepped on the gas and the cart lurched forward, thrusting Katie nearly out onto the lawn.

  “Sorry,” he said, taking her arm to right her in her seat. “I drive this thing the way I drive my car. I’ll behave, promise.”

  She laughed. “I didn’t know these could go that fast.”

  “They can’t. I had to buy one once because I ruined the engine.”

  Smiling, she found her tension ebbing. This was a side of Blake she rarely—if ever—had seen. Decidedly, she liked it and secretly hoped to see more of it. The only glitch in enjoying the lighter side of Blake was that it reminded her of Tate. He’d always been the easygoing playboy, the fun one.

  “Hey.” Blake slowed the cart to a stop beneath a giant old shade tree. “I’m losing you, only this time it’s not because you’re falling out of the cart.”

  She swallowed hard. The last thing she wanted to do was to ruin this moment with thoughts of Tate or guilt over being with Blake because of her past with his brother. “No…I’m just enjoying the view,” she explained. It was partially true. “That’s what I love most about golf courses. They’re so scenic, so lush and green. They calm you, you know?”

  He nodded. “That’s the only reason I even make an attempt to play. Want to give it a go?”

  “You first.”

  They hopped out of the cart, Blake choosing driving irons for them both. Standing behind him, she couldn’t help but notice the play of muscle in his back and shoulders as he practiced his swing. Her thoughts wandered in a completely different direction, musing over what it would feel like to run her hands there—

  “Well, not too impressive for a first shot. But typical for me.” He turned to her. “You’re up.”

  “Hmm? Oh, sure.”

  “You’re really engaged here, I can tell.”

  She was, but not in the game of golf. She tried to remember the lessons her father had insisted she take in high school, planting her feet the right distance apart, gripping her hands on the club in the right spots, swinging from the back and abs. Still she knew something wasn’t right. “I’m hopeless,” she said after her first shot dug a nasty hole in the manicured lawn.

  “May I?” Blake moved close behind her.

  “Please, I need all the help I can get.” He pressed lightly up against her back, wrapping his arms around hers and covering her hands in his.

  “Now, just relax and let the feel come naturally,” he murmured against her ear.

  They swayed together, in a sort of dance that went nowhere. She let her body ease back against his and she could have sworn she heard a slight groan.

  “How’s that feel?” he asked.

  Very nice, she wanted to say. Instead she tried not to sound dizzy and dreamy, the way he made her feel. “It’s helping. I think I was just tense.”

  “Good. Now, let’s take one swing together. Ready?”

  Letting him do the work, they cracked the iron against the ball and sent it sailing into the air.

  “Wow! I can’t even see it anymore.” Caught up in excitement, she spun and grasped his arm. “That was amazing.”

  Laughing, he put his hands on her shoulders. “See, you’re a natural.” His hands lingered, lightly massaging in what felt more like a caress.

  “Why is it that I’m feeling like we shouldn’t be having so much fun?”

  “It’s because you’re listening to the wrong voices.” Gently touching his lips to her forehead, he let his hands slide down her arms to grasp hers. “Try to listen to the one that says it’s okay for us to enjoy each other instead of the ones that beat you up for it.”

  She nodded, knowing he was right, yet wondering if they could ever be right.

  Chapter Five

  A dazzle of lights—the golden glow encompassing the aisle leading to the doorways of the elegant downtown hotel starred with camera flashes—greeted Katie as she took Blake’s hand and stepped from the car. There had been no chance they would arrive unnoticed. The fund-raising dinner for Peter Salgar was one of the biggest events of the political season, a glittering display of wealth and power evidenced in the carefully chosen guest list. On name alone, she and Blake were targets for the paparazzi. Tonight especially, with his hand at her waist, his arm lightly pressing against her back in what could easily be construed as a possessive gesture, the stir of interest they created was almost palpable.

  Blake seemed oblivious to the ripple of reaction their entrance into the reception area caused among the growing group of guests. “Regrets already?” he murmured close to her ear before they became part of the crowd.

  “I should be asking you that question.” She stopped, facing him. “I don’t think this was such a good idea. You have enough on your mind right now without me adding to it.”

  “You’re not adding to it. I think you know me well enough to be certain I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.”

  “I’m still worried about you,” she said, overlooking the clear skepticism, almost disbelief crossing his face. “Rex Foley, and most likely Zane and Jason will be here, too, and—” She shook her head. “I should never have agreed to this.”

  “We talked about this. It’s not as if I’m going to be blindsided. And it’s hardly the first time I’ve been in the same room with the Foleys and I’ve managed to survive so far.” He dismissed her concern but there was a new look in his eyes, almost bemused, as if someone anxious on his behalf was an unfamiliar concept. “Besides, it’s too late for you to back out.”

  “I don’t want to back out, but I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

  “That’s the last thing on my mind right now.” Blake reached to her and lightly dragged his fingertips over her cheek, his eyes following the motion then quickly sweeping over her. “You’re so beautiful, Katie. And in that dress…” His open admiration made her glad that on impulse she’d forgone her usual black for a
deep red, in a style slightly less conservative than her custom. “Tate was an idiot to ever let you go.”

  The husky note in his voice momentarily disarmed her fears. He was distractingly attractive, the black-and-white formal attire accentuating his lean good looks, but times like this, when he gave her a glimpse of warmth and charm behind his cool exterior, were when she found him most irresistible.

  They might have been alone in those brief seconds. His gaze, with its now familiar intensity, held hers and she had the disconcerting sensation of falling. That was a novel experience for her. That Blake was the cause made it all the more unsettling.

  How it would have ended if it had remained only the two of them, she never knew, because her parents chose that moment to interrupt, breaking the fleeting communion between her and Blake.

  “Katerina, there you are.” Anna and Benton Salgar walked up to them and though their timing frustrated Katie, she made herself smile. Still a beauty in diamonds and a shimmering silver gown, Anna’s seemingly effortless elegance and her greeting to her daughter—a brief clasping of hands and touch of cheeks—were marred by her slight frown as she recognized Katie’s companion. “We didn’t expect to see you here, Blake. This is quite a surprise.”

  “Peter will be happy if you’ve switched sides,” Benton said as he shook Blake’s hand. “He didn’t think he had a chance at an endorsement from the McCords. We assumed Eleanor would continue to back Adam.”

  “I assume she will, as well,” Blake answered. “I’m not representing my family. I’m here for Katie.”

  “Blake offered to escort me tonight,” Katie intervened hurriedly at the surprised looks her parents alternated between her and Blake.

  Benton and Anna exchanged a glance before he said, “You didn’t mention that when you turned down coming with us.”

  “It’s no wonder people are talking,” Anna said, sounding irritated as she focused on Katie.

  “That’s going to happen no matter what I do.”

  “Well, you must admit, it’s odd, you two being seen together this often and so soon after you and Tate broke your engagement.”

  “There’s nothing odd about attending a party with a friend.” Turning to Blake, Katie put a hand on his arm. “I’d love a glass of wine. Will you come with me?” As soon as they’d excused themselves and were out of earshot of Anna and Benton, she told him, “I’m sorry for that. My parents still haven’t given up on the idea Tate and I might get back together. Apparently his new fiancée isn’t enough to convince them it’s well and truly over.”

  Blake’s face gave nothing of his feelings away. He didn’t answer until they’d made their way to the bar and he’d given their orders. “Why do I get the impression that in their eyes, I’m partly to blame for your breakup?”

  “They don’t. At least…” She accepted the wine glass he offered her, flushing at his outright incredulity. “As my mother said, people talk. We’ve spent a lot of time together since the Labor Day party and although it’s mostly been because of the hospital, you know as well as I do there are some people who just wait to pounce on anything appearing even remotely scandalous. After that fiasco with Pearl, you should have guessed the gossip was only going to get worse.”

  He ignored the reference to the Kenningtons. “Is that what we are, Katie,” he said, the low, suggestive undertone in his voice sending a pleasant shiver through her, “remotely scandalous?”

  She could have taken him seriously, fretted over the image they made in a very public setting, questioned her judgment in getting entangled with him to the extent she had when she was trying to find her way after Tate. Instead, she chose to toss him a half smile and to enjoy the surprise that touched his expression. “Probably. Does it bother you?”

  “For the most part, no.”

  Remembering again his forceful assertion that he would never be second-best to Tate or anyone else, Katie guessed that was what bothered him the most about the evening. She also knew he’d deny it if she confronted him. She could consider it arrogance on his part and refuse to pander to his ego. Yet, it was a vulnerability that struck a chord in her because she’d never imagined Blake as anything but completely sure of himself and his abilities and disdainful of anyone who thought otherwise.

  “Maybe I’ll let them believe it,” she said on sudden impulse.

  “Believe what?”

  “That you’re to blame for my being unattached. Who knows—” she teased him a bit “—for a change, a little scandal might be fun.”

  “If I thought you were serious—”

  “Who says I’m not?” He frowned and she laughed. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Blake, of course I’m not serious. You’d never forgive me.”

  “That depends,” he said as he moved a step closer, very nearly crossing the line from polite into personal space, “on whether or not you meant it.”

  She suddenly lost control of the game she’d started. He was asking her something she couldn’t answer, not yet, when she wasn’t ready to redefine how she felt about him. “If I did something of that magnitude,” she said, forcing a lightness she didn’t feel, “I would mean it.”

  Blake didn’t respond in kind; if anything he looked even more troubled. “I think you would,” he said slowly.

  “Is it that hard for you to believe that I care about your feelings?” That it apparently was difficult for him made her wonder if anyone else ever had. Abandoning her wineglass, she put a hand on his shoulder and brushed a kiss against his cheek. “Thank you for being here. You’re the only man I’ve ever known who would put himself through this for me.”

  “You don’t need to thank me for something I wanted to do,” he said gruffly, then, unbending for her, he briefly touched her hand. “You’re welcome.” They looked at each other and he gave her that half smile of his. “I guess this means we’re both staying.”

  “I guess it does,” she said, returning a smile of her own. “Who knows, we might even find something to enjoy before it’s over.”

  “That,” Blake said, taking her hand and fitting it into the curve of his arm, “I can promise you.”

  Blake found it difficult to keep that promise through dinner and speech-making and the hour of headline entertainment that followed. He and Katie were seated at the head table with Peter Salgar, his family, the Kenningtons and Katie’s parents, a less than comfortable arrangement. Peter took advantage of Blake’s unexpected presence and what he apparently assumed was Blake’s attachment to Katie to subtly lobby for Blake’s support. Benton and Anna, though making an effort to be pleasant, couldn’t completely mask their disapproval of Katie’s choice of companion; and more than once, Blake felt eyes on his back from Rex Foley and his two oldest sons, Zane and Jason, sitting at the neighboring table. If it hadn’t been for Katie, he would have told the lot of them to go to hell and been done with it.

  “Blake…?”

  His name, a softly spoken question, pulled him out of his thoughts and he found himself alone at the table with Katie and looking into her dark eyes.

  “For a moment there, I thought I’d lost you,” she said, smiling a little.

  “I’m sorry, I let myself get distracted.”

  “That’s not very flattering.”

  “It’s just been one of those long evenings. It isn’t you.”

  “You’re not very good for my ego, you know.” She glanced to their right, where the Foley men were getting to their feet, Zane and his beautiful blonde companion leaving them to join other couples who were moving to the open ballroom floor for the start of the dancing. “I was hoping I could talk you into at least one dance. But I’m sure I can find another partner. Jason Foley, maybe. Considering his reputation and the way he always eyes practically every woman in the room, I doubt I’d have difficulty convincing him.”

  “If that son of a bitch so much as—” Blake started, breaking off when her lips twitched with suppressed laughter and he realized she was messing with him. “Not nice, Katie.”

&nb
sp; “It got your attention, though.”

  “I assure you, you have my attention.” He moved his hand to the back of her chair until his fingers slid against the smooth bare skin exposed by the low dip of her dress. “As much of it as you want.”

  The faint rise of color in her cheeks and her quick intake of breath betrayed her attempt to appear unaffected by his touch. “I’ll need proof of that.”

  “Then dance with me.”

  She accepted his invitation by taking his proffered hand and standing with him, her eyes never leaving his.

  Their path to the dance floor took them directly past the Foleys’ table and though Blake preferred to avoid acknowledging them, Rex Foley made that impossible by stepping up to them. Jason, he noted, hung back, watching them from a few feet away.

  “It’s nice to see you again, Katie,” Rex said, the smile he gave her coming easily, as if to an old friend. “I know Peter appreciates you being here.”

  “And he appreciates your support. He always has,” Katie answered. Her swift sidelong glance his way told Blake she keenly felt the awkwardness of the meeting. “It means a lot to him.”

  Rex nodded, then looked to Blake. “You being here is a surprise.”

  “So I’ve been told, numerous times,” Blake retorted coldly.

  “I know Eleanor—” Rex gave her name soft edges “—still backs Adam Trent. That puts you in the enemy camp, so to speak, at least tonight.”

  “I don’t always agree with my mother’s choices of friends.” Or lovers, he nearly added but held his tongue. His mother’s relationship, past and present, with Rex Foley was the last thing he wanted to get into right now or at all, for that matter. “And my reasons for being here are my business.”

  From his look between Blake and Katie, it was obvious Rex had formed his own idea of why Blake was here but he only nodded. “I’m sure Eleanor understands.” He seemed about to add something but left it unsaid.

  “I’m beyond the age of needing her approval. Now, if you’ll excuse us—” He didn’t wait for Rex’s reply but with his hand to her back, gently urged Katie forward.