Hot Texas Nights

by Janice Maynard

  “So you’re a coward.”

  His head shot up, hot, angry words trembling on his lips. There was no mistaking the dare, the challenge in her voice. “Don’t mess with me, Aria.” He ground his jaw. “This has been a hell of a week.”

  She levered herself away from the window and crossed to where he stood. “And where do I fall in your neat little equation, Ethan?”

  He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets to keep from touching her. He’d sworn that she would have to come to him. That he didn’t want her offering sexual favors for the money he had paid to cover her father’s gambling debts. But here in this hedonistic suite, the lines were blurred, and he wasn’t sure what she wanted.

  “We’re friends,” he muttered. “It’s different.”

  “Friends.” She said the word flatly, as if it was an insult.

  “Good friends.”

  The adjective didn’t seem to help his case. Aria’s eyes—usually sunny with happiness and good humor—sparked with azure fire. “Then why do I always want to see you naked? And vice versa?”

  He snapped. A man could only take so much provocation. Scooping her up in his arms, he carried her to the bed. There was no way he was going to make love to her on sheets that hadn’t been changed in who knew how long. So he would have to improvise.

  His chest heaved. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

  Aria’s secretive smile would have put the most experienced courtesan to shame. “I won’t say that,” she said. “I don’t want you to stop. But you’ll have to make this fast, because somebody downstairs is bound to notice we’re missing sooner or later.”

  Ethan didn’t know if it was the suggestive setting or the knowledge that they were both supposed to be somewhere else or simply the fact that he had been aching for her the entire damn day, but he went a little crazy.

  Thank God he had a condom in his wallet.

  He set Aria on her feet. “Don’t move.”

  He retrieved what he needed and tossed the packet on the bed. Then he cupped Aria’s fragile neck in two big hands and tilted it to just the right angle for a deep, satisfying kiss.

  Every time he did this, he forgot all the reasons why he needed to stay away. Aria wanted a husband and a family and forever.

  All he wanted was her.

  Her arms twined around his neck. “We don’t have time to get undressed,” she panted. “Just lift my skirt.”

  The way she said it, the picture she painted, made his throat go dry. “That sounds a little desperate, don’t you think?” Surely one of them should make the mature, logical decisions.

  Somehow, the situation was spiraling out of control. He had intended to bring her up here to this fantasy-laden suite and teach her what a bastard he was. Demonstrate how he could callously disregard her feelings and use her for a momentary roll in the hay, so to speak.

  How could he show her what a total loss he was in the boyfriend-and-husband department when she was just as interested in hot, immediate, possibly temporary sex as he was?

  His brain shut down when she touched the zipper of his pants. Nimble feminine fingers found their way to his sex and caressed it.

  He cursed, the guttural imprecation raw and probably too revealing for his own good.

  Aria laughed. The sultry, knowing sound made the hair at his nape stand on end. This was no masculine power play where he was the aggressor and she the innocent. In this luxurious sexual playground, he and Aria were meeting on equal terms.

  When she raked his shaft with her fingernails, his mind went blank. His entire body shook with the need to be inside her.

  “Wait,” he croaked. “Wait a minute.” He slid a hand up under her skirt, caressing one firm thigh, until he found the center of her sex. Shoving aside the undies, he entered her with two fingers.

  Aria was wet and ready for him. She must have decided he needed her help, because she shimmied up her skirt to her waist. “Hurry, Ethan. Hurry.”

  Her face was flushed, her lips pink and puffy from his kisses. Her gaze was sleepy-eyed, her pupils dilated. He wanted her so badly in that moment, that the building could have been burning down around them and he might not have noticed.

  He leaned past her and grabbed the condom packet, ripping it open with one desperate motion. Two seconds later, his hands were on her bare hips. There were any number of variations to this scenario, but he wanted to see her expression when he took her. “Kneel on the bed facing me,” he urged. From there, he lifted her and lowered her onto his erection.

  The feel of her body welcoming his was indescribable. “Ethan...” She breathed his name. For a moment, he was sure she was going to say something else. Instead, she closed her eyes and rested her cheek on his shoulder.

  He pumped his hips wildly, his fingers gripping her ass. The sex should have been amazing. And it was. From a strictly mechanical standpoint. His body gave the encounter an enthusiastic perfect ten. He came hard and fast, his climax draining him for long moments until his legs went weak and he was forced to rest both of their bodies on the edge of the bed.

  But it wasn’t his imagination that by closing her eyes, Aria shut him out. He had told her more than once that he wasn’t interested in a relationship with feelings.

  So she had taken him at his word.

  Suddenly, what happened between them felt as tawdry and abandoned as this relic of a lovers’ suite.

  He released her and went to the bathroom, where he found a hand towel that seemed relatively clean. He returned to the bedroom, gave it to Aria without speaking and then went back to the bathroom to give her some privacy.

  When he had straightened his clothes and reentered the bedroom, he found her standing at the window, her expression pensive.

  She smiled when she saw him. “We should get back to the party, don’t you think?”

  “That’s it?” He frowned at her.

  The smile dimmed. “You can’t have it both ways, Ethan. We’re playing a game and putting on a show for your family. Don’t expect me to do more than that. It’s not fair.”

  Apparently she understood his motives better than he realized. And it made him feel lower than dirt. “Fine,” he said, trying not to sound like a sulky teenager. “But when we get downstairs, stay close to me. I saw Harmon lurking around, and he didn’t look happy.”

  * * *

  Angela Perry nursed her drink and wondered if anyone would notice if she took off her shoes. The stiletto heels were torture, especially after she’d been on her feet all day.

  Her heart still beat sluggishly after her encounter with Ryder Currin. He was an incredibly attractive man, and she was definitely interested in getting to know him better. All she did these days was work. Perhaps it was time to give romance another chance.

  Her longtime best friend, Tatiana Havery, joined her, looking as fresh as she had this morning at eight. The statuesque redhead had a personality to match her dramatic looks. Since the two of them had been in boarding school together years ago, their lives had taken twists and turns. Tatiana was twice-divorced. Angela had one failed marriage to her credit. Now both of them were VPs at Perry Holdings. Tatiana handled real estate.

  Tatiana looked worried. “I saw you talking to Ryder Currin earlier.”

  Angela lifted a shoulder, feigning unconcern. “So?” she said, feeling her face heat. Everything about Ryder made her itchy. Uncomfortable. In most arenas of her life she was poised and confident. But around Ryder she felt like a self-conscious kid.

  It could be the fact that he looked a lot like Brad Pitt and had the same sexy smile. There was something more, though. A gut-level connection. If she was honest with herself, it was a bone-deep sexual attraction. She was pretty sure he felt it, too.

  Tatiana chewed her lip. “I’ve heard rumors about him, chickie. Bad stuff. I think you should stay away from the guy.”

  Angela
burst out laughing. “What do you expect him to do? Lock me in a closet? Sell me into slavery? Don’t be so dramatic.”

  Tatiana was offended. “Fine,” she said huffily. “Ignore me. But don’t come crying on my shoulder when the truth comes out.”

  Angela frowned. “The truth about what?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s just whispers and innuendo so far. But I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “You’re sweet to be concerned about me, but not to worry. I can take care of myself. And besides, Ryder Currin is a stand-up kind of guy. I can’t imagine that he has any secrets in his past that would be so terrible.”

  “You never know. Everyone has secrets. And now that the new club is opening, there will be more people, more crazy, more drama.”

  “You sound happy about that.”

  Tatiana’s grin was smug. “It’s certainly not boring.”

  * * *

  Aria’s skin smelled like Ethan. Or at least that’s the way it seemed to her. Had she really let him make love to her in a deserted hotel room far away from the hustle and bustle of the party and then return as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened?

  Three times in the last forty-five minutes, she had tried to slip away from him. And all three times he had tightened his arm around her waist and kept her by his side. Being so close to him was torture. Trying to pretend that sex was no big deal taxed the limits of her acting abilities.

  Every time Ethan’s mother and stepfather crossed paths with Ethan and Aria at the reception, Ethan nuzzled Aria’s neck, or kissed her temple, or tucked her hair behind her ear. His demonstrations of affection—staged for the benefit of onlookers—made her yearn to believe the steamy touches might hold a kernel of truth.

  Surely he felt something more for her than friendship and lust.

  The evening took an unpleasant turn when Harmon Porter confronted them in a dark corner near the bar. The man—who was several inches shorter than Ethan—had clearly been drinking. He got up in Ethan’s face. “I’m having a hard time believing this engagement story, Barringer. There’s no ring on Aria’s finger. Maybe I’ll sue her for breach of promise.”

  Ethan’s expression grew stormy. “Don’t press your luck. I kept my part of the bargain. The debt is paid.”

  “And your fiancée’s ring?” Harmon put a hand to his mouth, feigning embarrassed shock. “Oh, my. It’s the money, isn’t it? You can’t afford a flashy stone now that you’ve cleaned out your accounts to pay me.”

  When Aria felt Ethan’s entire body tense, she put a hand on his arm and gave Harmon a cool stare. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Ethan is giving me an heirloom, a ring that’s been in his family for generations. We’re having it reset and sized. Now go away and leave us alone.”

  Harmon’s face turned red. He gave them a bitter sneer. But moments later, he turned on his heel and strode away.

  Ethan stared after him in disgust. “Stupid toad of a man.”

  “He has a lot of friends,” Aria said.

  “I don’t care if he’s the guy with the cardigans and all the neighbors. The man is a pretentious moron.” He glared at her. “I can’t believe you were actually going to marry him. What were you thinking?”

  Aria’s temper rose. “What I choose to do with my life is none of your business.”

  “You seemed pretty happy about me sticking my nose in your business when he was blackmailing you.”

  “Not me,” Aria said sharply. “My father. And what happened to all your caring, empathetic words about how I hadn’t done anything wrong, and I didn’t owe you a thing?” She glanced across the room and turned her glare into a saccharine smile. “Oh, by the way, your mother is staring at us.”

  Ten

  Ethan waited a few seconds and then casually looked over his shoulder to see if Aria was right. Bingo. He winced inwardly as he met his mother’s eyes.

  He turned to Aria. “How about a truce?” he said. “Are you hungry?”

  “Actually, I’m starving.”

  “In that case, come with me.” He took her elbow and steered her through the crowd toward the hors d’oeuvres. Once they had added a few items to their plates, they found a small unoccupied table at the edge of the room and snagged it before someone else could sit down. Ethan flagged a waiter and ordered wine from the bar. It was well after six thirty. By all accounts, folks should be heading out for other evening engagements by now. Dinner. Sporting events. The ballet. Opera.

  Instead, they seemed to be having far too much fun to leave.

  Maybe it was the exceptional appetizers and free alcohol.

  Aria gobbled up a fat shrimp with ladylike zeal and licked cocktail sauce from her fingers. “Tell me something, Ethan.”

  He swallowed a mouthful of chardonnay. “Okay.”

  “Have you heard anything weird about Ryder Currin tonight?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She wrinkled her forehead. “Well, when I was working the crowd earlier—before the ground-breaking ceremony—I kept hearing little snippets of conversation about Mr. Currin and how he used to be poor but somehow ended up with this valuable piece of land that made him an oil baron. Do you know anything about that?”

  Ethan thought about it for a moment. “It was long before my time, but I do remember hearing that Sterling Perry and Currin once worked on the same ranch many moons ago. Since Sterling is seventy and Ryder is only fifty, Sterling was the foreman, I think, and Currin would have been a ranch hand or something like that.”

  “So maybe they’ve always been jealous of each other?”

  “But that still doesn’t explain how Ryder got rich,” Ethan said.

  “No. And it doesn’t explain all the buzz today, unless people are speculating which of the two men will end up as the president of the new club.”

  “Well, I have to answer to Sterling in the end, of course, but he doesn’t bother himself too much anymore with day-to-day business operations. Maybe the reason he wants control of the club so badly is that he sees it as a way to stay relevant. Or maybe he wants a new challenge now that the next generation runs most everything at Perry Holdings.”

  “Them and you,” Aria said, swiping another shrimp from his plate.

  He swatted her hand. “And me. We all have our own areas of expertise and control. Which seems to work very well for the moment.”

  “Hasn’t it ever struck you as odd that his son didn’t want to play a role? If Roarke had stuck around, would you be doing what you’re doing?”

  “Who knows? Sterling rarely mentions Roarke. They’re an odd family. But then again, I guess every family has its skeletons.”

  “That’s a pretty cynical attitude.”

  “I thought we had agreed on a truce.” He chided her with a smile.

  Aria held up her hands in the universal gesture of surrender. “I stand corrected.” She scanned the room. “So what now?”

  “I thought we’d take Mom and John out for a nice leisurely dinner so we can all get to know each other better.”

  “And then?”

  He leaned forward and used the tip of his finger to rescue a tiny drop of cocktail sauce from the edge of her bottom lip. “Then I’m going home with my beautiful houseguest and putting my phone on Do Not Disturb.”

  My plan is working beautifully. Who knew it would be so easy to spread a web of lies and half-truths? Though they’re not really lies at all, are they? Sterling Perry and Ryder Currin and their families have ruined my life, and they deserve to know the hurt I feel.

  After finding that old letter in my father’s possessions, I now understand why my life took the turns it did. I hate the Perrys and the Currins for different reasons. They’ve cheated and stolen things that were mine. Soon, all the dirty secrets will come leaking out like a river of pollution, turning the Texas Cattleman’s Club members against
both men. At this point, I don’t really care about collateral damage.

  I want them all to pay. I’ve had to give up too damn much over the years. There’s been too much pain. It’s my turn now. And no one is going to stand in my way...

  I linger at the back of this fancy ballroom and wish I could go back in time. It isn’t fair. I lost so much. My child, my family. My heart will never be the same now that I know the truth.

  Royal, Texas. Houston, Texas. When this is all over, everyone will know who I am. Everyone will know what I deserve. And the mighty will fall. You wait and see. It’s going to happen. It’s only a matter of time.

  * * *

  Aria hadn’t expected to enjoy the rest of the evening so much. Having dinner with Sarabeth and John was delightful. For one thing, watching Ethan interact with his mom was illuminating. Mother and son had a tight bond. Aria had known that intellectually, but it had been a long time since she had seen them together like this. And never really since Ethan had been an adult.

  She knew the stories about Ethan’s father. The man had been charismatic, handsome and, by some accounts, impossible to resist. Apparently, that’s the way it had been for Sarabeth. It was only after she had a child that her husband began to show his true colors.

  Being cheated on by a spouse was bad enough, but Ethan’s father hadn’t even bothered to hide his affairs. Not only had the man broken Sarabeth’s heart, but he had also humiliated her in front of the whole town.

  What was entirely amazing was the fact that Sarabeth had never bad-mouthed her philandering husband to her son. She hadn’t wanted to ruin a boy’s relationship with his father.

  The inevitable eventually happened, though. Ethan’s father left for good one day, and he divorced Sarabeth. Even then, she didn’t do what most women would have done. She didn’t want her son to be crushed by the worst of his father’s betrayal. Instead, she told Ethan that she and his father simply couldn’t get along. They weren’t well-suited. They had made a mistake.