Hot Texas Nights

by Janice Maynard

  Aria and Ethan had been friends by then. He didn’t tell her everything, but he told her enough to make her heart ache for him. She watched a happy, optimistic boy turn into a brooding, deeply hurt young man. Then came the day when Ethan found his mother crying, and he pressed her for the whole truth.

  That was the moment Ethan Barringer decided he would never marry and have a family. He had told Aria he was afraid he carried his father’s bad genes. If a man could cheat on someone as wonderful as Sarabeth, then there was no hope. Ethan didn’t want to take a chance.

  Now here they were, almost fifteen years later, and Ethan’s emotional shell had only grown thicker and more impervious.

  Aria could tell herself she might change him, but what were the odds? She knew he cared about her. And the sex was great. Still, did she want to risk having her self-esteem and her emotional well-being shattered?

  At the moment, she and Ethan were sitting hip-to-hip in a wood-and-leather booth with John and Sarabeth on the opposite side. Ethan had wanted to treat everyone to a five-star restaurant. His mother had insisted she was happier at this hole-in-the-wall pizzeria that had flourished in Houston since she was a child. Sarabeth remembered her grandma bringing her here, she claimed, when they visited from Royal.

  The booths were small and definitely cozy. Ethan’s hard thigh pressed against Aria’s leg, distracting her from the conversation. His long arm draped across the back of the seat behind her, hemming her in pleasantly.

  Sarabeth beamed at her son and Aria, her face alight with expectation. “So tell me,” she said. “How did you two connect after all these years?”

  Ethan ran his fingers along Aria’s bare upper arm. “You tell her, sweetheart.”

  Aria pinched his thigh underneath the table. Hard. But she pinned on a smile. “It was entirely by chance. You know, I guess, that Ethan has been making multiple trips back and forth between Houston and Royal to meet with the TCC board and pitch his case for the construction of the new club. The night he won the bid, he was celebrating all alone at the diner. I walked in out of the cold, and that was that.”

  Sarabeth clasped her hands under her chin. “So romantic. It was meant to be.” She gave her son a coy glance. “I told you so.”

  Aria looked from one to the other. “Am I missing something?”

  Ethan’s mother grinned. “This dear boy has told me for years that he absolutely is never going to get married and settle down with a family.”

  “No big surprise there.” Aria tried to make a joke of it. If she hadn’t been sitting so close to Ethan, she might have missed his reaction. But because they were crowded together, she knew the exact moment his entire body tensed at his mother’s provocative words.

  She tried desperately to think of a way to derail the conversation, but Sarabeth was excited and determined to have her moment. “He’s always hated his father for the way he treated me. Even worse, Ethan has been afraid he’s too much like this father. That he might hurt the people he loves. That he might cheat on a woman and make her life a misery. So he decided he would keep all of his relationships strictly physical.”

  Even John tried to intervene, perhaps picking up on Ethan’s discomfort. “Sarabeth...”

  She waved a hand, discounting the interruption. “I knew my dear sweet boy was wrong. I knew that when the right woman came along, he would fall and fall hard. And I knew that with his honor and his compassion and his bone-deep decency, he would never hurt or betray a woman.” She reached across the table and took Ethan’s hands in hers. “I love you, son. And I’m so very, very excited and grateful tonight. John has brought joy to my life, but seeing you here with Aria makes my happiness complete.”

  Ethan cleared his throat, his face flushed with emotion that could have been embarrassment or discomfort or both. “Thank you for believing in me, Mama. I always wanted to make you proud.”

  “You have. And you will.”

  Suddenly, Sarabeth turned her maternal instincts on Aria. “And what about you, sweet girl? How do you feel about starting a family?”

  “Um, I already told you. We’ve had to table that idea for the moment. The new Texas Cattleman’s Club here in Houston is our baby right now.”

  Sarabeth wrinkled her nose. “Not very exciting for me.”

  John pulled his wife close and kissed her cheek. “All evidence to the contrary, my love, the world doesn’t revolve around you. I’m sure Aria and Ethan will give you a grandbaby when the time is right.”

  After that, the pizza arrived and the conversation moved to less personally volatile topics like books and movies. Not surprisingly, there was even a bit of benign gossip about some of the more flamboyant personalities who had attended the ground-breaking ceremonies earlier.

  Neither Sarabeth nor John mentioned anything about the rumors Aria had heard about Ryder Currin. Perhaps there was no substance to the hushed whispers, or maybe she had misheard a conversation here and there.

  At last, the hour drew late, and Ethan’s mother wanted to go back to her room and put up her feet. Aria was surprised the older couple wasn’t staying with Ethan, though, of course, she didn’t speak her thoughts aloud.

  Sarabeth gave her a saucy grin. “A grown man doesn’t need his mother hovering. John and I already had reservations at my favorite little boutique hotel, but when I heard you two were newly engaged, I was especially glad John and I weren’t intruding.”

  Ethan kissed her cheek. “You never intrude, Mama.”

  Outside on the sidewalk, everyone said their goodbyes. Ethan hailed a cab for the older couple. Then he turned to Aria, his expression unreadable. “You ready to go home?”

  “Sure.”

  Ethan had parked two blocks away, an easy walk. They should have had plenty to talk about en route to the car. The ground-breaking. The incredible turnout for the ceremony and the party. The unveiled antagonism between Sterling Perry and Ryder Currin.

  Neither of them said a word.

  Aria suspected that Ethan was upset about his mother’s editorial comments concerning his love life. If he and Aria had actually been wild about each other, the whole incident would probably have been funny. As it was, neither of them was laughing.

  The trip back to the condo was mercifully brief at this hour. Ethan turned on the radio to fill the silence.

  Once they reached his elegant building, he handed off his keys to a uniformed valet, and they made their way upstairs via a sleek, fast elevator that left Aria’s stomach somewhere around the third or fourth floor.

  Ethan had the penthouse. Of course. She wondered if he would be able to afford it now that he had covered her father’s enormous losses. Once again, she felt the weight of what she owed him.

  Surely, given all he had done for her already, it would be cruel and immoral to try to change him. The man had suffered a great deal during his childhood and adolescence. He’d coped the only way he knew how.

  Aria wanted him on her terms. Was that incredibly selfish?

  Ethan unlocked the door and stood back for her to precede him.

  His body language was jerky, his usual masculine grace obviously affected by the emotional exchange of the evening.

  She laid her clutch purse on the table in the entryway. “Thank you for letting me stay with you,” she said quietly. “This is so much nicer than an impersonal hotel.”

  He opened a shallow drawer in the table and handed her a set of keys. “Keep these while you’re here,” he said gruffly.

  “Thank you.” Her visit would be relatively brief. Ryder Currin was hosting a fund-raising gala for the new club in forty-eight hours. The two social events had been planned close together intentionally, so out-of-town guests could attend both.

  After the big party, there would be no reason for Aria to linger in Houston. Until the club was actually operational, most of her work would be accomplished from Royal.
r />   Ethan’s jaw was tight. “I’m sorry to be a poor host, but I have some work to do.”

  Aria’s face flamed. The curt dismissal was shocking. After his comment about putting his phone on Do Not Disturb, she had assumed this evening was headed in a different direction. “Of course,” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She turned on her heel and fled to her room, her eyes hot with tears.

  Eleven

  Ethan ripped off his tie and strode toward his office, cursing beneath his breath and telling himself the sharp pain in his chest was indigestion. He’d thought the uncomfortable dinner with his mother was the worst he could feel tonight. Turns out, he was wrong.

  He was a cheat and a liar. Because he’d wanted to make his mother happy, he’d created this elaborate charade. And the charade had been birthed out of Aria’s crisis with Harmon.

  What did that make Ethan? Was he some kind of Machiavellian showman? Manipulating everyone and everything to his will?

  He paced the confines of his office, wishing he didn’t have a guest, wishing he could go to the gym and beat out his frustrations on a punching bag or on the racquetball court. Seeing the wounded expression in Aria’s tear-drenched blue eyes just now was a sight that would live with him forever. She kept expecting him to be a certain kind of man, and he continued to disappoint her.

  Knowing she was down the hall made his hands shake and his heart slug in his chest. He poured himself a generous shot of whiskey and then didn’t drink it, choosing instead to drop into a deep, leather chair and nurse his grievances along with his untouched alcohol.

  He swirled the amber liquid in the cut-glass tumbler and studied the patterns in the bottom of the crystal. Normally, he relished the peace and solitude of his home atop one of Houston’s premier downtown skyscrapers. Tonight, even though another person would sleep beneath his roof, he felt inexplicably lonely and bereft.

  Hell, he was losing it.

  A noise, barely perceptible, had his head jerking up. His hand trembled so badly that several drops of liquid sloshed onto his leg.

  He swallowed against a dry throat, wishing he had downed the damn whiskey. “Aria? What are you doing here?”

  She had changed out of her party dress and let down her hair. Clearly, she had showered, because her blond tresses were darker than usual. Damp, wavy tendrils clung to her neck and collarbone. She wore a white robe of some silky material that revealed nothing at all and yet managed to make it very clear she was naked underneath.

  His sex flexed and hardened, pressing uncomfortably against his zipper. He didn’t want to adjust himself for fear of drawing attention to his condition and letting her know what her presence did to him.

  When she didn’t say anything, he repeated the question. “What are you doing here?”

  She entered the room slowly, paused at his desk and picked up a book about economic policies in the European Union. “It doesn’t look like you’re working.”

  Her voice was husky, mocking him.

  “I needed a break. It’s been a long day.”

  “Indeed.” Her smile was bland.

  Suddenly, he was back in the Elysium Suite with her legs wrapped around his waist. Holy hell. “You should go to bed,” he said firmly. “It’s late.”

  “Eleven thirty? Do you turn into a pumpkin at midnight? Maybe I should stay and watch.”

  He clenched his jaw. Sweat beaded his forehead. “I’m not in the mood for this,” he said, the words tight with a frustration and longing that he hoped like hell she didn’t hear.

  Aria tossed aside the book and crossed the thick carpet to where he sat. Her bare feet made no sound at all. When she stood at his knees, she took the glass from his numb fingers, tried a sip and wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. I’ve never seen the appeal.”

  “It’s a hundred dollars a bottle. Show some respect.” The way her silky robe parted around his leg riveted his attention.

  Without realizing it, he had clenched his hands on the arms of the chair. His knuckles were white. Aria noticed. Of course.

  Her expression softened. “You asked me why I’m here...”

  He swallowed. “It doesn’t even matter. Just go.”

  She sat down in his lap. The sides of the robe gaped, revealing a feminine pair of tanned, toned thighs. “I hope you don’t mean that,” she said. “You told me when you paid my father’s debts that I would have to make the first moves when it came to sex. That you didn’t want my gratitude or my obligation.”

  He nodded, trying to pretend he was in control. “I remember.”

  “I want you, Ethan.” She curled an arm around his neck. Her breasts pressed against his chest.

  “Aria, I—”

  She put two fingers against his lips. “Shhh. Don’t say anything. I’m not asking you to change who you are. I’m simply proposing détente for the next few days. Let’s enjoy ourselves until the gala is over. I’ll go back to Royal after that, and when you think the time is right, you can tell your mother that I broke things off. That way she won’t be mad at you, and it will buy you some time before she starts nagging you about a new relationship.”

  He stroked her back, feeling the warmth of her skin through the slick fabric. “You would do that for me?”

  Aria rested her forehead against his. “You’re my friend, Ethan.” She ran her thumb across his bottom lip. “My very good friend.”

  How was a man supposed to do the right thing in the face of such temptation? He couldn’t even separate right from wrong anymore. Up from down. Wanting from needing.

  He knew exactly the kind of man Aria wanted, the kind of man she needed. And even knowing that, he was going to take what she was offering without promising anything in return. He could try to salve his conscience by reminding himself that he had saved her from Harmon Porter. That was something, surely.

  Then again, it was easy to give money when a man had plenty of it. What Aria wanted was his heart.

  He cleared his throat, but the words still came out hoarse. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  She bit his earlobe, hard enough to sting. “Maybe you should worry about protecting your own heart. Assuming you have one.”

  She said that last bit with a teasing smile.

  He’d used up his final stores of patience. “I told myself I wasn’t going to take advantage of you while you were a guest in my home.” He made the admission quietly, wanting her to know he had given the situation considerable thought.

  “I’m naked. And in your lap. I think you could be excused for touching me now.”

  Beneath her humor he finally saw the vulnerable heart, the hesitant courage. She wasn’t sure of him. Of them.

  “You are an amazing woman,” he said, winnowing his fingers through her hair, separating strand from strand. “I formally accept your offer of détente.”

  Her smile widened, became radiant. “What a smart man.”

  He groaned and pulled her closer still, capturing her mouth in a hungry kiss. She arched into him, her lips parting as he slipped his tongue into the sweet recesses of her mouth. She tasted like toothpaste.

  Suddenly he was aware of how fresh and sweet she was and how rumpled he felt. “I need a shower.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Her disappointed pout made him laugh. “You could join me.”

  “No. My hair’s almost dry. But I can warm up your bed.”

  He blinked, stunned. Had she always been this sure of what she wanted? And if so, why had he stayed away?

  Rising to his feet with her in his arms, he held her against his chest, inhaling the scent of warm woman and his own shower soap. “I’ll make it quick, I swear.”

  She ran her fingers along the late-day stubble of his chin. “I really hope you’re talking about the shower.”

  He jogged down the hall laughing helplessly, trying not to drop his sexy ar
mful. He never remembered being so incredibly aroused and ridiculously amused at the same time. Aria had that effect on him.

  In the doorway to his bedroom, he tried to see his domain through her eyes. The dark woods and masculine colors were nothing out of the ordinary. But when he dropped her on his bed, she looked like an angel on his navy comforter. Well, maybe not exactly an angel.

  The robe was mostly open now. Only a knot in the narrow sash kept the last of her secrets hidden from him. “Make yourself at home,” he said huskily, as he unbuttoned his shirt.

  Aria reclined on her elbows and watched him undress, a tiny smile tilting the corners of her perfect pink lips. “You really are a gorgeous man.”

  His hands stilled on the waistband of his pants. “I’ll finish this in the bathroom. Don’t move.”

  * * *

  Aria’s heart was beating so rapidly she felt a little faint. An hour ago, she had been wallowing in despair. Until it finally dawned on her that Ethan had made a huge deal about her coming to him and not the other way around.

  After they had returned home from the meal with his parents, she had taken his odd mood as rejection. She’d been deeply hurt and confused. When in fact, Ethan wanted her just as much as she wanted him.

  Maybe she was skating along the precipice of self-destruction. But she couldn’t draw herself away. Whatever happened, happened. Ethan didn’t want forever. He’d made that abundantly clear.

  But he wanted tonight, so Aria was going to wallow in these moments and not think about the future.

  When he opened the door from the bathroom five minutes later, she literally lost her breath for several long seconds. She tried to smile and speak, but her vocal cords were frozen, and her lower jaw trembled.

  Ethan had a towel around his waist. That was the extent of his wardrobe. Because she saw him in business attire so often, she sometimes forgot how wonderfully powerful his body was, how utterly masculine in its raw beauty. His shoulders were wide, his chest lightly dusted with hair.