Brides of the DESERT ROSE

Harlequin American Romance

invites you to return to Bridle, Texas,

and the Desert Rose Ranch—

the scene of scandals and seduction

based on the bestselling Texas Sheikhs series….

IN THE ENEMY’S EMBRACE

by Mindy Neff

HAR #925

AT THE RANCHER’S BIDDING

by Charlotte Maclay

HAR #929

BY THE SHEIKH’S COMMAND

by Debbi Rawlins

HAR #933

Dear Reader,

What better way to celebrate June, a month of courtship and romance, than with four new spectacular books from Harlequin American Romance?

First, the always wonderful Mindy Neff inaugurates Harlequin American Romance’s new three-book continuity series, BRIDES OF THE DESERT ROSE, which is a follow-up to the bestselling TEXAS SHEIKHS series. In the Enemy’s Embrace is a sexy rivals-become-lovers story you won’t want to miss.

When a handsome aristocrat finds an abandoned newborn, he turns to a beautiful doctor to save the child’s life. Will the adorable infant bond their hearts together and make them the perfect family? Find out in A Baby for Lord Roderick by Emily Dalton. Next, in To Love an Older Man by Debbi Rawlins, a dashing attorney vows to deny his attraction to the pregnant woman in need of his help. With love and affection, can the expectant beauty change the older man’s mind? Sharon Swan launches her delightful continuing series WELCOME TO HARMONY with Home-Grown Husband, which features a single-mom gardener who looks to her mysterious and sexy new neighbor to spice up her life with some much-needed excitement and romance.

This month, and every month, come home to Harlequin American Romance—and enjoy!

Best,

Melissa Jeglinski

Associate Senior Editor

Harlequin American Romance

In The Enemy’s Embrace

Mindy Neff

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Mindy Neff published her first book with Harlequin American Romance in 1995. Since then, she has appeared regularly on the Waldenbooks bestseller list and won numerous awards, including the National Readers’ Choice Award, the Romantic Times Career Achievement Award, as well as nominations for the prestigious RITA® Award.

Originally from Louisiana, Mindy settled in Southern California, where she married a really romantic guy and raised five great kids. Family, friends, writing and reading are her passions. When Mindy is not writing, her ideal getaway is a good book, hot sunshine and a chair at the river’s edge at her second home in Parker, Arizona.

Mindy loves to hear from readers. You can write to her at P.O. Box 2704-262, Huntington Beach, CA 92647, or through her Web site at www.mindyneff.com, or e-mail at mindyneff@aol.com.

Books by Mindy Neff

HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

644—A FAMILY MAN

663—ADAM’S KISS

679—THE BAD BOY NEXT DOOR

711—THEY’RE THE ONE! *

739—A BACHELOR FOR THE BRIDE

759—THE COWBOY IS A DADDY

769—SUDDENLY A DADDY

795—THE VIRGIN & HER BODYGUARD*

800—THE PLAYBOY & THE MOMMY*

809—A PREGNANCY AND A PROPOSAL

830—THE RANCHER’S MAIL-ORDER BRIDE †

834—THE PLAYBOY’S OWN MISS PRIM†

838—THE HORSEMAN’S CONVENIENT WIFE†

857—THE SECRETARY GETS HER MAN

898—CHEYENNE’S LADY†

902—THE DOCTOR’S INSTANT FAMILY†

906—PREACHER’S IN-NAME-ONLY WIFE†

909—THE McCALLUM QUINTUPLETS “Delivered with a Kiss”

925—IN THE ENEMY’S EMBRACE

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Chapter One

Jessica Coleman hugged the scratchy wool blanket around her shoulders and shivered in the balmy June night air, the tremors from nerves, not cold.

Before her, the downtown Dallas apartment she’d called home for the past two months oozed smoke out its balcony windows like a baby dragon throwing a hissy fit.

Jessica felt a little like throwing a hissy fit herself, but realized it would do no good. Roll with the punches, her cousins always told her, stand proud and project a regal presence even if you don’t feel it.

Easy for them to say. Her cousins, whom she’d been raised with, were indeed royalty. Bona fide sheikhs. All of them married now—thanks in part to Jessica’s matchmaking skills.

She sniffed and wiped her nose on the scratchy blanket the firefighter had given her, her throat burning from the cloying smell of smoke. Destruction was always so painful to see. Especially destruction of a person’s home.

Thankfully Jessica wasn’t emotionally attached to the apartment, didn’t have any keepsakes there—other than the photographs of her parents and cousins that she’d snatched up and shoved in her purse on her way out of the smoke-filled building. The rest of her belongings of any value to her were at home on the Desert Rose Ranch in Bridle, Texas, northwest of Austin.

Except her clothes of course. Now that was a big loss.

On the bright side, though, losing one’s entire wardrobe was a great excuse to go shopping.

She glanced around at her neighbors and felt badly about her frivolous thought. My gosh, what was wrong with her? Was she on the verge of hysteria?

Unlike her, she imagined these people had lost irreplaceable keepsakes and memories. A couple had nearly lost their lives. That thought made her shiver—especially as the image of little Timmy, her neighbor’s boy, sliding on his stomach toward an open flame replayed in her mind like a preview clip of a horror movie. He’d broken away from his parents, running back toward his apartment to search for his cat. The untied shoelaces on his sneakers had tripped him and sent him tumbling.

Tugging her mass of red hair from beneath the blanket, she turned at the sound of tires screeching on asphalt. Her heart lurched into her throat.

A black Mercedes sedan.

Nick Grayson—her absentee boss.

Well, sort of her boss. He was the son of the Grayson half of Coleman-Grayson Investment Company, and she was the daughter of the Coleman half. His handsome features made her knees weak, yet his bossiness left her spitting like a she-cat more often than not. She knew her parents had asked him to watch over her, teach her the ropes in the family business, but at twenty-five, she was well past needing a baby-sitter and resented his superior attitude.

She sighed, watching him approach. His long stride and rigidly set shoulders beneath a black polo shirt didn’t bode well for harmony. At least not between the two of them.

The subtle smell of sandalwood cologne surrounded her as he drew near, giving her a second’s respite from the acrid stench of smoke. Heat coursed through her. Her insides still trembled like soft-set pudding—nerves and something more now.

Why in the world couldn’t she be her normal “catch me if you can, baby” self around this man? It was thoroughly disquieting, a failing she’d had since she was thirteen. You’d think she would’ve gotten over her adolescent crush.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his deep voice concerned, edgy.

Annoyed that she wanted to say no and turn into his wide chest for comfort, Jessica clutched the blanket more snugly around her shoulders. “Do you have spies? Had my phones tapped? What?” Why was it he always showed up when she needed him?

She didn’t want to need him, even though the smell of his skin and the intensity of his dark-brown eyes made her heart do cartwheels in her chest.

“Did you make a phone call?” he asked, his tone dripping with censure. “I don’t recall mine ringing.”

When he cocked a dark brow in that sexy, annoying way of his, she didn’t know whether to hit him or jump his bones.

“Obviously it must have rung sometime,” she said. “Otherwise, why would you show up like a thief with a posse on his tail?”

“A thief?”

She shrugged. “Black car, windows tinted black, dressed in all black. A person would think you’re a bad guy or something.”

The long look he gave her did indeed telegraph danger. Sexual, rather than physical.

“The color of the car isn’t readily changeable. The clothes were what I put my hands on first in the closet. I was understandably anxious to get out of the house.”

“You had ESP or something that drew you out of bed and told you my apartment building was burning down?”

“No. Guy Pirrazzo—he’s the head of personnel at the company—”

“I know who Guy is,” she said. She’d found that out on her own. She’d come to Coleman-Grayson at her parents’ behest to learn the ins and outs of the business under Nick Grayson’s tutelage. He hadn’t done much tutoring so far. It was as though he was avoiding her, finding excuses to be out of the office or out of town altogether.

Although he did have an uncanny knack for showing up every time she seemed to be at her worst.

“Yes, well, Guy’s uncle lives in this building—”

“Lived,” she corrected waving a hand at the water-and-soot-drenched grounds. She didn’t think she’d ever get the shrill scream of the smoke alarm out of her head. Emergency lights from the fire engines cast intermittent splashes of crimson across the wet asphalt, which had already been cordoned off with yellow tape.

“Lived,” Nick repeated, his jaw flexing as though he was annoyed and holding on by a thread at being interrupted. “Guy recalled that you were in the same building and phoned to let me know about the fire.”

He was looking at her as though he was disappointed that she hadn’t called him herself, as though he’d expected as much.

Which was absurd of course. The man avoided her the way an Arabian horse shies around a Texas rattler.

At the moment, though, his demeanor was far from shy. It set her nerves tingling.

She cleared her throat, unsure what to say or do next. Suddenly she felt nervous and vulnerable. The adrenaline that had carried her out of the apartment building was ebbing. Despite the fact that Nick Grayson got on her nerves, a part of her was actually glad he was here.

She shoved her tousled red hair off her forehead and sighed.

Nick laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Are you ready to go?”

His quiet voice and warm breath sent more shivers down her spine. At this rate, her bones were likely to rattle apart joint by joint. “Go where?”

“My place, I’m thinking.”

She looked up at him. “Obviously you’re not thinking to make a suggestion like that.”

Astonished, she watched his teeth flash white as his lips canted into a slow grin.

“Now, Jess. Are you insinuating the two of us can’t get along under the same roof?”

“I’m not insinuating. I know.”

He slung an arm around her shoulders, steered her toward his car. “Come on. Let’s get out of here and we’ll fight about it later.”

She had to bite her lip to keep from smiling. If there was one thing she and Nick were good at, it was fighting. Well, sparring was probably more accurate.

He held the car door open for her and gallantly helped her into the plush leather seat as though she’d been harmed, not just her apartment.

“You could drop me at the Embassy Suites or the Sheraton.”

“Sit back and relax. From the looks of that garage, I’d guess your car’s pretty well toast. Since I’m in the driver’s seat, I say we go to Grayson suites.”

The sight of her ruined building sent another sickening tremor through her. “Since when are you in the hotel business?”

He slanted her a look. “Play on words, Red. I’ve got plenty of suites in my place. You’ll be more comfortable there than at a hotel.”

Jessica wasn’t so sure about that. The words comfortable and Nick Grayson didn’t coexist peacefully in her vocabulary. Right now, though, she was too tired to put up much of a fuss.

It was an effort to act tough, but she couldn’t afford to let down her guard. Not with Nick.

She rested her head against the leather seat. Soft country music played on the stereo system. The lights on the dashboard looked sophisticated and complicated, yet pretty against the dark night. She shut her eyes as they wound through downtown Dallas, then left the city lights far behind as they traveled down a four-lane highway divided by a grassy median strip.

She heard the rustle of denim and cotton sliding against leather, knew he’d turned to look at her. She kept her eyes lowered. There was a time when she would have given her prize Arabian mare to be sitting next to Nick Grayson in his car, to have him be the dashing knight who’d come rushing to her rescue.

That seemed like a lifetime ago. She’d been a girl of thirteen and he’d been a worldly man of twenty-one. Even now, her face heated when she thought of that embarrassing day he’d come out to the Desert Rose Ranch. She’d been filled with a young girl’s dreams, infatuated with this older boy, watched him, pined for him, ached for him to notice her as only a young girl in her first crush can ache.

He’d been sweet to her, and that was all it had taken for her to tumble head over heels. She’d been so sure of herself, feeling older now that she was a teen, certain that Nick Grayson would fall madly in lust with her, promise her undying love, promise to wait for her forever. She’d built up the scenario, dreamed it so often it had become real to her.

That had made his abrupt rejection all the more humiliating.

Feeling the familiar shame flutter in her stomach at the memory, she banished the thought and sat up straighter, looking around as he drove through a set of private gates supported by brick pillars. White wood fences glowed in the moonlight, reminding her of home, of the paddocks that held million-dollar Arabian champions. Where the Desert Rose was built in a Spanish architectural style, Nick’s house was a scaled-down version of Southfork—the estate made famous by the long-running TV series Dallas.

“I guess our daddies pay you pretty well,” she mused aloud.

He shot her a frowning look. “I work hard for the salary the company pays me.”

Hmmm. She’d hit a nerve. She could practically hear his thoughts, the words he was civilized enough not to tack on. I work hard for the salary the company pays me…unlike you.

Perhaps his touchiness had something to do with the fact that the Coleman half of the partnership owned fifty-one percent of the voting stock, leaving the Graysons a mere forty-nine. Technically she had more clout than he did, but she decided not to poke at that particular sore tonight. She wasn’t at her best. And to keep one step ahead of Nick Grayson, she needed to be at her best.

He stopped the car in the circular driveway beneath a porte-cochere and shut off the engine. A warm breeze lifted her hair as she got out of the car. Cicadas and crickets harmonized with the deeper hum of tree frogs, the sound pressing in on her ears.

She shivered. She’d grown up on a ranch, dealt with snakes and all manner of varmints, yet the thought of thousands of huge insects and critters blending in with the trees, watching her with their buggy eyes, gave her the creeps.

“You cold?” Nick asked as he reached past her to open the front door.

“No. It’s those stupid locusts. I think they deliberately antagonize me because they can sense I don’t like them.”

A corner of his mouth kicked up. “I don’t think you can go anywhere in Texas and get away from them.”

“No place that has trees, that’s for sure.” She ducked under his outstretched arm and crossed the threshold to the foyer. A fortune in marble paved the floor, flowing like polished glass until it met the thick carpet of an enormous living room.

Jessica was impressed despite herself. Heck, she came from a wealthy family. But the layout of Nick’s home was breathtaking.

A solid wall of windows beckoned her farther into the room, where comfortable leather furniture cohabited nicely with priceless antiques. Doors opened onto a patio, where subtle lighting turned the swimming pool into a fantasy-like paradise.

Unable to resist, she walked right out the doors, drawn by the water, and inhaled the scent of chlorine and the sweet perfume of honeysuckle vines.

He switched on the patio and yard lights, and Jessica was further awed. Manicured lawns, shaded by mature oak and elm trees, sloped down to a tranquil lake where a wooden dock extended out into the water. A sporty powerboat was moored at one side of the dock, tied to cleats and protected by bright orange buoys.

She turned to Nick, raised a brow. “A swimming pool and a lake?”

Hands in his pockets, he stood several feet away as though he didn’t trust himself to come any closer. “I swim in the pool and fish in the lake.”

“Ah, a man who knows how to bring home dinner.”

He was silent, watching her as though she were a bobcat ready to pounce. She clearly made him nervous, and Jessica found this a delicious turn of events. She was no longer the thirteen-year-old girl with a mad crush, the girl who’d been humiliated when her kiss had been rebuffed. With her now twenty-five, the eight-year age difference put them in a completely different playing field.

And judging by the hungry look in his eyes, she had the home advantage.

“We should probably go in before the mosquitoes start biting,” he said, his hands still in his pockets, his dark gaze trained on her.

“Vitamin B. I take it religiously and they never munch on me.” Because it was past midnight and they were both a little punchy from the drama of the evening, she preceded him into the house and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the darkened windows when he turned off the outside lights.

For pity’s sake. In all the hoopla, she’d completely forgotten that she still wore her Victoria’s Secret pajamas. Oh, they were modest enough, thin sweatpants in a pink-and-red heart pattern and a matching tank top. Looking down, she noticed the insoles of her sandals were imprinted with toe-shaped smudges from the water and soot remnants of the fire.

She yelped and jumped up onto the fireplace hearth.

Nick took an immediate step forward, switching on the overhead lights, his gaze scanning the floor. “What?” He nearly shouted the word.

She knew he was imagining they’d let a critter in through the open doors, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. At this point, a bout of laughter might well turn into that hysteria she’d been worrying about earlier. “My feet are dirty.”

“Your…”

She held up a foot, letting her white sandal dangle from her toes. Even her gold toe ring was tarnished black. “I hope I didn’t track this mess on your beautiful carpet.”

“The rugs can be cleaned, Red. My heart’s not so easily repaired.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to shake you up. And why do you keep scowling at me like that?”

“I’m not scowling.”

She rolled her eyes. “Look in the mirror, why don’t you. And while you’re at it, could you bring me a towel so I can rake some of this gunk off my feet? Honestly, I should have jumped in the pool while I was out there.”

“I can give you a hand if you like.”

She looked at him and laughed. “A push, you mean?”

A dimple creased his cheek. Amazing, since his expression was still nearly as solemn as a judge’s.

He turned to leave the room, presumably to do her bidding. Man, oh, man, Nick Grayson had one fine derriere. Jessica sat down on the brick hearth and rested her chin on her raised knees, sniffed, then lifted her head. No wonder Nick was keeping a respectable distance between them. She reeked of smoke.

Her gaze was still on the seat of his jeans when he suddenly turned and caught her staring. Except now she was staring at the fly of his jeans.

She lifted her eyes to his scowling face. “Well,” she said. “You’re the one who turned around. If you’d just kept going, I could have ogled your backside in peace and you’d have been none the wiser….” Her words dried up as he crossed the room toward her, bent down and scooped her up in his arms. “What in the world are you doing?”

“Taking you to the shower.”

“Fetching a towel was too taxing for you?”

“My towels are white. You’d ruin them.”

“The man owns a swimming pool and a lake and he quibbles over a towel.” She sighed and clutched the blanket that was still around her shoulders.

“Red?”

“Mmm?”

“You smell like charred wood.”

Yes, and if she closed her eyes, her mind replayed the horrible image of flames licking at her neighbor’s window. “You’re such a gentleman for pointing that out, Grayson. No sense complaining, though. I didn’t ask for the impromptu ride.”

“A good host should bear up under any hardship.”

“Now I’m a hardship. You’re not exactly endearing yourself to me.”

“I wasn’t trying to.” He lowered her feet to the tile floor of the bathroom.

Jessica wasn’t sure what imp got into her, but she dropped the blanket from her shoulders and turned to face him.

In a typically male reaction, his gaze dipped to her tank top where thin cotton adorned with little hearts stretched over her breasts. She felt her nipples harden and nearly groaned.

But she’d started this, and she wouldn’t act like a shy maiden now. Never mind that she had little handson experience in the male-female relationship department; she’d learned years ago that men were drawn to the voluptuous curves of her body, and she’d perfected a seductress act that could have a guy panting like a puppy in two seconds flat. And while Nick wasn’t exactly panting, his dark eyes flared nearly black—a perfect match for his clothes.

A muscle worked in his jaw as he backed out of the bathroom. “You didn’t happen to stuff an extra change of clothes in that backpack purse, did you?”

“‘Fraid not.”

“I’ll see what I can come up with.”

He closed the door behind him and Jessica let out a slow breath. Her hands were trembling—heck, her entire insides were quaking.

Darn it, she was not attracted to Nick Grayson. She’d gotten over that years ago. They rubbed each other the wrong way, couldn’t have a decent conversation without tempers igniting. So why the devil were her nipples poking out as if she’d just dipped herself in an icy lake?

Undressing, she turned on the shower, adjusted the water temperature and stuck her head under the steamy spray. From the corner of her eye, she saw the bathroom door open and she froze.

Holding her breath, she watched as a masculine arm reached in and set down a stack of folded clothes, then withdrew, pulling the door closed again. She let out a sigh, her heart pumping. She’d been raised in a house with three male cousins, but none of them had ever breached her privacy this way. Well, it hadn’t actually been breached. He hadn’t come all the way in the room and looked.

Just to ease her mind, she would make a point of standing at the doorway when she was done to see if the mirror afforded a clear view to the shower. No sense letting Nick Grayson get one up on her.

The purpose, she’d decided weeks ago, was to make him drool, regret what he’d so carelessly turned down years ago. Not the other way around.

NICK WENT INTO the kitchen and poured himself a healthy shot of brandy. He’d tried to work on a prospectus report for a software company he was considering investing in, but the sound of water rushing through the pipes was too much of a distraction. Especially knowing Jessica Coleman was the one standing naked in his shower.

Damn it, he should have just left the clothes outside the door. He’d only meant to stick his arm in and put the stuff on the counter. How the hell was he to know the mirror angle gave a perfect reflection of the shower—and its occupant? Now, in addition to a twelve-year-old kiss haunting him, he had the image of her naked curvy body to keep him up nights.

She could have been burned tonight, lost her life. That one vulnerable look she’d given him when he’d first shown up at the fire would forever be etched in his mind. It had said, Hold me, please. And he’d wanted to, wanted to take care of her, but he was scared to touch her.

Jessica Coleman had been off-limits for so long. He was weak when it came to her, didn’t trust himself to let go, and that made him mad.

The very worst thing he could do was get involved with a Coleman. He and Jess had been like water and oil since the moment they’d met—flammable, volatile, passionate oil. Love and hate walked a very thin line. To act on that emotion, see where it would take them, was too dangerous. One or both of them would likely get burned. And what happened between them would naturally affect the business.

Coleman-Grayson Investment Company was too important to him to take a chance on ripping it apart because of personal conflict.

“Didn’t your mama ever tell you what a shame it’d be if your face ended up getting stuck in that position?”

He looked up, became aware that his brows were indeed drawn together in a frown, then promptly lost his entire train of thought.

She wore a white bathrobe he kept for guests who came to swim. He could see the collar of his T-shirt he’d lent her beneath the plunging V of the robe. Her legs and feet were bare and he wondered if she was wearing the drawstring shorts he’d laid out for her. Her long red hair was a mass of damp curls, framing her face and sliding over her shoulders. Her face was void of makeup, making her look even younger. That should have had the effect of ice water dumped over his head, but it didn’t.

Although she was perfectly decent, his body was humming as if she’d walked into the room stark naked.

Nerves crowded when she sauntered over to him, reached out and brushed his forehead with her finger.

“It’s your skin, but seems a shame to promote early wrinkles like this.” She plucked the brandy glass out of his hand, sipped, her gaze still on his.

Her eyes were unique, one green and the other blue—something he’d never seen on anyone before. That was the kind of thing that sticks in a man’s mind. It’d stuck in his since the day he first laid eyes on her.

“Did you want a glass?” he asked.

“This one’s fine. Why don’t you just pour yourself another?”

Not many people came into his home and told him what to do. They wouldn’t dare. Obviously Jessica Coleman dared.

He might have called a halt to it, but the sultry pitch of her voice, the seduction in those unique eyes, was rendering him stupid.

Determined to break the spell, he got down another crystal glass and poured brandy in it, putting distance between them in the process.

“Did you want me to show you to your room?”

She grinned. “Are you trying to tell me it’s past my bedtime?”

“Do you have to challenge everything I say?”

“Habit, I suppose.”

“Well, suppose you can break it?”

“A truce works two ways, you know.”

He wasn’t sure how a man could be annoyed and want to smile at the same time. Jessica Coleman just flat out confounded him.

“I’m game if you are,” he said.

“Are you sure you don’t want to give me a lift to the nearest hotel? I mean, practically tripping over each other like this will likely cramp both our styles.”

“It’s a big place. I doubt we’ll trip.”

“We’ll definitely be aware of each other, though. And I, at least, have a fairly active social life.”

“And what makes you think I don’t?”

She shrugged. “I guess it’s just hard to imagine. You’re stuffy, all business. You never knew how to enjoy what was offered.”

He saw the quickly masked distress in her eyes, knew she hadn’t meant to blurt those words, knew that she was referring to that long-ago kiss. He knew he’d hurt her, but until now, hadn’t realized the depth of that pain.

But damn it, she’d been jailbait back then, and he’d hated the pull of attraction he felt for the kid, fought it like crazy. All it had taken was a long look into those intriguing eyes filled with curiosity and mystery—yes, even at that young age, Jessica Coleman had exuded an innocent sensuality that promised bliss. She’d scared the hell out of him. And because of that, he’d mishandled her tender feelings, crushed her spirit.

But she was no longer a girl of thirteen, and the man in him had been goaded just about enough.

Obviously her crushed spirit had only been a temporary setback.

Chapter Two

Jessica’s heart pounded as Nick deliberately stepped toward her, his dark eyes filled with intent. He crowded her, trapped her between his body and the kitchen cabinets, twined a finger around one of her damp curls and toyed with the end where it just brushed the slope of her breast, all the while holding her gaze with his.

“Careful how you taunt, cowgirl. We’re all grownup now.”

Dear heaven, she hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to keep up this act. She could well be out-matched, but she was darned if she’d give it up now.

“So nice of you to notice,” she said, and neatly ducked beneath his arms. “Too bad I’m no longer interested.”

“Is that a dare?”

Jessica tucked her hair behind her ear, fought to get the jolt of awareness under control. She knew she was playing with fire and needed to backtrack in a hurry. Nick Grayson was a worthy opponent, not someone to underestimate. “Of course not.”

“Sounded that way to me. A statement of disinterest is practically an open invitation to prove just the opposite.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake. Chill out, would you?” Actually, she was the one who needed to chill out. The man oozed seduction and danger from every masculine pore. She was fast finding herself in over her head. And that was not a position she wanted to be in.

She held up her hands to form a T. “Truce, okay? We’ve known each other for years. There’s no reason in the world why we can’t get along just fine as temporary roommates. I’ll contact the insurance people in the morning and see if the contents of the apartment were covered.”

“Since Coleman-Grayson owns the building, I don’t imagine you’ll have any trouble settling.”

“Fine, then. As soon as I can find a new apartment and new furniture and stuff, I’ll be out of your hair. Until then…” She moved forward and held out her hand. “Friends?”

He enveloped her hand in both of his. His palms were wide and warm, and she felt the oddest vibration shimmy up her arm.

“Friends,” he agreed. “As for the house rules, make yourself at home—though I expect you to respect my privacy and go easy on the loud music and wild parties.”

“Likewise.” Why wasn’t he letting go of her hand? And why was he staring into her eyes like that? The word that came to mind was hungry. She licked her lips. “If you have a date or want to bring a lady home, I’ll make myself scarce. Just warn me in advance.”

He took a step closer. “So, I’m not too stuffy to date and have women friends?” His voice was soft and deep and filled with a sensuality she didn’t quite know how to respond to.

What was going on here? Sparks were literally zinging between them. Oh, she’d wanted to make Nick Grayson drool. But she hadn’t counted on this sneak attack he seemed to be waging, setting her off balance.

Instead of answering his question, she said, “Look…uh, I think we’re both tired. I don’t know about you, but being rudely wakened to find your house on fire is enough to…” Her voice hitched and she cleared it. “Enough to…” Oh, Lord, she was going to cry. She could feel it and she was mortified. Her nose and throat burned, and her eyes stung.

She tried to back away, but Nick used their joined hands to pull her right into the comforting width of his chest.

“I wondered when that was going to catch up with you,” he murmured, stroking her hair, her back, soothing her with the sweep of his wide palm. “Shh, you’re safe with me now, kiddo.”

Jessica stiffened. Kiddo. She didn’t want him thinking about her as a kid, but obviously he did.

She stepped back. “I’m fine. Really. I think I’ll just turn in.”

The frown was back on his face. She watched his chest rise and fall with a deep breath, tried not to notice how his black polo shirt clung to the breadth of his physique.

She should have learned her lesson twelve years ago. Nick saw her merely as the daughter of a business partner. She was the one who kept getting mixed up, reading more into a look or touch than was actually there. It wasn’t his fault that he was born with the kind of looks that naturally made a woman fantasize, forget who, what and where she was.

But Jessica needed to remember.

In his eyes, they would never be on an equal footing. She’d be the kid and he’d be the guy her parents had asked to watch over her.

And that simply wasn’t acceptable.

He nodded and turned away from her. “I’ll show you to your room.”

FOR THE FIRST TIME in years, Nick overslept. Shrugging into his suit jacket, he finished knotting his tie as he went down the stairs. He was debating whether to head on out the front door and grab coffee at the office, or take the time to drink it here when he heard voices and laughter coming from the kitchen.

Jessica’s sultry, unrestrained laughter, and the deeper, carefree chortle of his younger brother, Chase.

He’d forgotten that Chase was due home for his annual visit. At twenty-five, his brother had yet to settle on what he wanted to be when he grew up. At present, he fancied himself a carefree playboy, with Europe as his playground of choice.

Well, that wasn’t exactly so, or fair. Chase raced cars and yachts and made a fortune at it. He was the kind of guy who’d wither away if he had to sit behind a desk or preside over meetings all day.

Jealousy speared Nick right in the solar plexus when he stopped in the kitchen doorway. It was a new emotion and it bothered him.

Jessica, still wearing the clothes Nick had given her last night—minus the robe, he noted—was sitting at the kitchen table chatting with Chase. They were both the same age, so easily enjoyed a good laugh. Just watching them made Nick feel sixty-three, instead of thirty-three.

For as long as he could remember, he’d been the responsible one, the sensible one, the driven one. Had he ever let himself laugh the way Chase was doing now?

And what the hell was so funny, anyway? He didn’t like this feeling of being on the outside.

“You’re up and about early this morning,” he said.

Chase looked up and grinned. “And you’re late, big brother.” Chase stood and enveloped Nick in a hug. “Good to see you slacking off a bit. And with such beautiful company.”

“She’s not company.”

“Oh? Sorry, I didn’t know you were living with somebody.”

“I’m not—”

“Oh, stop teasing him, Chase,” Jessica said. “He’s pulling your chain, Nick. I already told him about the fire.”

Nick moved over to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup. He needed a shot of caffeine to clear his head.

“It made the paper,” Chase said. “Our Jess is a heroine. Saved a kid and his cat.”

“The media exaggerates.” Jessica scooted the newspaper aside. She’d done what needed to be done, didn’t want the accolades the paper had given her, didn’t want to think about what might have happened if she hadn’t seen Timmy Matheson trip and fall. The fearlessness of children, she thought. While everyone else had been scrambling for an exit, Timmy had ignored his mother’s screams and charged back toward their burning apartment.

“Did the papers say how the fire started?” Nick asked.

“Paint cans too close to a water heater.”

“That’ll do it. You’ll want to call your folks. Chances are the story made the Bridle paper, as well.”

“I already called.” She resisted the urge to tack on sir. “And I called the office this morning, too. Steve’s going to get the ball rolling with the insurance company and check on the painting contractor’s coverage, as well.” Steve Tyler worked in accounting at Coleman-Grayson.

“Busy girl.”

“I usually am.” Not that he would know that firsthand, given the way he’d been avoiding the office lately. Ever since she’d come to work there. “By the way, I’m taking the day off to shop for a replacement wardrobe. I’ve already called Rhonda to let her know I won’t be in.”

“If I didn’t have a prior commitment,” Chase said, “I’d offer to go with you and carry your packages.”

“A man who actually likes to shop? Be still my heart.” She glanced at Nick. “Are you sure the two of you are brothers? Mr. All Business Nick probably wouldn’t think of taking time off to carry a woman’s shopping bags.”

“On the contrary,” Nick said, leaning back against the counter, “I’d enjoy a day at the mall.”

Caught off guard, Jessica’s jaw dropped.

Amusement and satisfaction danced in his eyes. “A good business lesson, Red. Never make a firm statement that you can’t back up with fact. How does nine-forty-five suit you?”

She regained her composure. “It suits me, um, fine—provided I can find something decent to wear in public.” She’d thrown away her smoke-drenched pajamas, and the only thing she had left was what she was wearing—the drawstring shorts and T-shirt Nick had lent her to sleep in.

“You look pretty decent to me,” Chase commented with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“Don’t you have someplace you need to be?” Nick asked him.

Chase grinned. “Yeah. I guess I should go check in with the folks, let them know I’m in town. I imagine they’ll want to get us all together for dinner.”

Nick nodded. “Just let me know when.”

“Will do.” Chase lifted Jessica’s hand and gallantly bowed over it, placing a kiss on her knuckles. “It was great to see you again, Jess. Really great. I’ll call you.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” she said.

Nick had trouble swallowing his coffee and was barely civilized enough to shake Chase’s hand as his brother left.

What was Chase thinking? Had he forgotten that they’d both made a pact not to date friends of the family? Three years ago Chase had been engaged to the daughter of their mother’s best friend. Everything had been fine until the relationship shattered. Ugly words and accusations had flown from both sides. There were squabbles over money, the diamond engagement ring and who was at fault. Both families had been dragged into the fray, each forced to choose sides, effectively ruining a long-standing friendship.

When it came to Jessica, not only did they risk ruining another friendship, but a business partnership, as well.

“There’s that charming expression I’ve come to know and love,” Jessica said as she got up from the table and walked toward him. She brushed a finger over his forehead, and he jerked back so fast he nearly spilled his coffee.

She grinned. “Got any girl clothes around here?”

“None that come to mind. If you want, you can rummage through my closet and see if anything will fit. I’ve got workout clothes you can probably make do with.”

“See how well we’re doing with our truce? I’m sleeping in your bed and wearing your clothes—all in the space of a day. Pretty darn good if you ask me.”

Nick choked on a swallow of hot coffee. Jessica helpfully thumped him on the back and sashayed out of the room.

God almighty, he wasn’t sure he’d survive that woman.

THE GALLERIA MALL in Dallas was a shopper’s paradise. And Nick soon found out that Jessica was an expert at the sport of shopping and could cull choice merchandise off every sale rack like a pro.

He’d discarded his suit jacket an hour ago outside the dressing room of Macy’s. Now, slouched in a chair outside yet another dressing room—Nordstrom’s this time—he loosened the knot of his tie and punched in another number on his cell phone. The reception inside the store was the pits, and after being cut off for the third time, he switched it off.

He’d made a huge mistake by letting Jessica goad him. His pride had gotten in the way and look where he was. She kept sauntering out of the dressing rooms, wearing outfit after outfit, asking his opinion as though they were girlfriends instead of business partners. A bag sat at his feet filled with lingerie she hadn’t modeled for him—thank God. The images his mind was supplying made him sweat.

Toeing the bag a little farther away so it would quit antagonizing him, he looked up and nearly dropped the phone in his hand and his senses to boot.

She wore a siren-red dress that clung to every sweet curve of her body and made him think of hot sex and endless nights.

“Well?” she asked, and executed a pirouette.

He cleared his throat. “Not exactly office attire.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder. His heart slammed against his chest. He wondered if she’d done it on purpose, if she knew how sexy that pose was, the way her raised arms pulled the material over her breasts as she lifted her hair off her neck, piling it on top of her head.

“Too much, hmm?”

“I didn’t say that.”

She turned to face him. “Then what do you say?”

“It’s very…nice.” Total understatement. He’d gone from zip to hard in two seconds flat. No way could he stand up at the moment without embarrassing himself. And damned if he’d give her the satisfaction of knowing she’d gotten to him. The imp was having too much fun as it was. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was deliberately being seductive.

“I probably shouldn’t get it. I don’t know where I’d wear it.”

“What about that hot and heavy social life you were talking about?”

She gave him a smile that nearly knocked the breath out of him. Not the put-on smile of a seductress. A sweet smile. An easy smile. “To tell the truth, my social life’s not as hot and heavy as I might have led you to believe.”

Just that simply, with that easy honesty, Nick felt his guard drop. About the time he thought he had her figured out, she did an about-face and said something that blew his perception of her out of the water.

Despite his best intentions to keep his distance and his control around Jessica Coleman, her innate charm was too much to resist.

“That dress was made for you, Red. You should get it.”

She gave him a grin. “Okay. That’s about all the arm twisting I need to…yikes!”

“What?”

“Did you see the price tag on this thing?” She flashed it in front of his face, then shook her head and whirled around. “Forget it.”

Dumbfounded, Nick watched her disappear back into the dressing room. The woman was a mass of contradictions. She could afford to buy ten dresses and pay double what the price tag said. The fact that she wouldn’t intrigued him. He’d always thought Jessica Coleman was pampered and spoiled, with nothing more pressing on her mind than shopping and parties. Lately he’d had to rethink quite a few of his preconceived notions.

And how many of those notions were his own defense mechanisms kicking in? Was he intent on finding fault in hopes of diluting the sexual sizzle he felt every time she walked into a room?

He didn’t know the answers. He did know, however, that the “come and get me, baby” red dress had her name written on it.

After summoning the salesclerk, he said, “The red dress the young lady was just trying on? Put it on my charge, gift wrap it and mail it to this address.” He handed her a business card, along with his credit card.

“A surprise?” the clerk asked.

“Yes.”

“I’ll be the soul of discretion.”

“YOU KNOW, I usually prefer to shop alone,” Jessica said, glancing up at the Galleria’s dramatic glass atrium above them. “And frankly, I was dreading you tagging along today. I couldn’t believe you actually volunteered.”

“I only did because you were so sure I wouldn’t.”

She bumped her shoulder against his. The silky material of the summery dress she’d bought at the first department store felt good against her skin, made her feel like herself again. A trip to the makeup counter and a complimentary makeover had her skin glowing and her eyes and mouth enhanced to where she felt the score between them was a bit more even. It had been torture walking into a mall with a gorgeous man when she was wearing oversize clothing and her face was naked.

“Well, now you’re in it for the duration.”

“You mean you’re not done?” He looked toward one of the exit doors on the mall’s lower level. Sunlight pierced the glass ceiling overhead, splashing rainbows over the gleaming floors.

“I need shoes, Grayson. Lots of them. Where is your shopping spirit?”

“I think I lost it back between the Levi’s and Guess jeans.”

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t tell me which pair looked better on my butt.”

“Don’t start, Red. I do have a healthy amount of self-preservation.”

“Well, see if I ever take you shopping with me again,” she huffed dramatically.

“Please don’t.”

She laughed and bumped his shoulder again. “You’re being a pretty good sport. I’m surprised.”

“There’s probably a lot about me that would surprise you.”

“Give it a try. Tell me something about you—schooldays, let’s say.”

“What, like a truth-or-dare kind of thing?”

“Hmm, that could get interesting.” Though not what she’d had in mind. “I’m game if you are.”

He shook his head. “Forget it. You scare me.”

That tickled her. Even though she doubted that anything scared Nick Grayson.

“What were you like in high school?”

“Like any other kid, I guess. I was a football quarterback in high school and college, and had a chance to go pro.”

“You passed up the opportunity for fame and fortune?” He was a good four inches over six feet and had shoulders that filled out his suit jacket without the benefit of padding.

“I’ve got the fortune. And I used my mind to get it, rather than beating up my body. Figured I’d leave the fame for Chase.”

“Ah, driven even as a young man.”

“Thanks,” he said dryly. “I needed to feel ancient today.”

She laughed. “Really, Nick. You should play more. Not take life so seriously.” They were headed toward the huge ice rink in the mall. Music vied with crying children, giggling shrieks of teens and the noisy hum of shoppers. “Hey, why don’t we go ice skating?”

“I thought you needed shoes.”

“I do. But as long as we’re playing hooky from work, we might as well go whole hog. Chicken?”

“Get real. I could skate circles around you. After all, I’ve had years more practice than you.”

“Poked at your ego, did I? Thirty-three is still a young man, Nick. Funny how twelve years ago, the eight-year age difference between us was unacceptable.” She plucked a green shirt off a sale rack outside a boutique and held it to her chest. “Now it’s not an issue. Why’s that?”

“Experience.” He shook his head, took the shirt out of her hand and replaced it on the rack. “And until you’re eighteen, you’re considered jailbait.”

“Oh, like my father actually would’ve had you arrested if you’d kissed me.” She hadn’t meant to bring up this issue. It had just slipped out. The best thing, she decided, was to simply act sophisticated, as though it was no big deal.

He urged her forward with a hand at her back. “I imagine he would have. And it could have split up the business, as well. Which is why we’re not going to continue this conversation.”

“Just like that? You say so and it’s law?”

“Let’s don’t go there, Red.” He glanced at his watch. “And as much as I’d like to show you up on the ice, I think we’d better tackle those shoes. I need to make a conference call later this afternoon.”

“Ever the businessman.” She sighed and steered them around the corner, away from the ice rink. “Anything I should know about?”

He hesitated and the look she gave him dared him to put her off again. In the two months she’d been at Coleman-Grayson headquarters she’d never once complained when he’d given her little more responsibility than an office clerk. Instead, she’d taken the opportunity to learn how all the departments ran, from payroll to accounts receivable. She’d worked the switchboard and sat in on planning and investment strategy meetings.

She’d listened and learned—with very little help from Nick Grayson. She was tired of getting the runaround.

He must have read her determined expression.

“It’s a software company I’ve been looking at. According to the projections, it looks like a solid twenty percent return over the next two years.”

“Software seems so risky right now. Especially competing with the major companies. A lot of start-ups have bitten the dust.”

“This isn’t a start-up company. Lusklow’s been in business for thirty years with a great track record. The software is a virus-prevention program. They already have a handshake agreement with the Pentagon and a couple of other big players in the industry.”

“You’ve verified that?”

He glanced down at her as though surprised she’d even ask such a thing. “Yes. That’s part of what the conference call’s about.”

“Then I guess we better get cracking on shoes so you can get back in time.”

He looked so relieved that their shopping expedition had an end in sight that she laughed. “I’d like to listen in on the call, if you don’t mind.”

He shrugged. “Sure. If you want. Coming in on the tail end this way, you probably won’t understand some of the technicalities.”

One minute he made her laugh and the next he made her want to slug him. Her mood went from simmer to boil in less than a second. “Sometimes you make me so mad I could spit.”

“Jess…I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“Oh, I think you did. One of these days you’re going to have to face the fact that I’m not a kid anymore, that I have a brain in my head and a summa cum laude degree to prove it. You’re just like every other guy—worse, actually, because you’re so darn stuffy about it. You see a big pair of boobs and you think that’s all there is to a woman.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand and shook her head. Thank God his gaze hadn’t wavered from hers. If he’d looked at her chest, she’d have lost it. Big time.

“I’m not in the mood to talk to you right now. You’d be wise to go find a bench somewhere and leave me be while I find some shoes.”

Without waiting for him to agree or disagree, she made a beeline for the nearest shoe store, hardly able to see where she was going for the haze of anger that blanked her vision. Jerk.

She stewed and fumed and before she knew it, she’d bought ten pairs of shoes and was feeling somewhat better. Nothing like new shoes to set a woman’s head on straight.

She’d been handling Nick Grayson all wrong. There were going to be some changes—and soon—or the fur was going to fly. He was bossy, domineering and irritating. She hadn’t put up with that kind of behavior from her three macho cousins, and she wouldn’t tolerate it with Nick Grayson, either.

As she stood contemplating a pair of sexy little red sandals in a boutique window, a masculine hand holding an ice-cream cone reached around her.

Her heart lurched, then settled. Despite the nasty words she’d just been calling him in her mind, she smiled, let go of the bags in one hand and plucked the cone out of his. One of the reasons she got along so well with people was that she rarely stayed mad longer than it took to express the emotion.

“Are you bribing me with chocolate, Grayson?”

“Trying to. Is it working?”

She licked the creamy chocolate. “I’ll let you know in a minute.”

“Jess…” He put a hand on her shoulder, turned her to face him. He held an ice-cream cone in his hand as well—vanilla. “I apologize.”

His words and his expression were sincere. Both banished her temper faster than any frozen treat or ten pairs of shoes could.

She took a breath, let it out in a sigh. “Why the heck didn’t you say that sooner? Do you know how much money I just spent trying to cool off?”

“I would have said it sooner, but I was afraid you’d inflict harm on my person. I’ll never again doubt the cliché about a redhead’s temper.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Better quit while you’re ahead, pal.”

“Truce?” he asked.

She laughed. “How long did the other one last?”

“Let’s see. It was about two o’clock this morning.” He checked his watch. “That’d make it about twelve hours.”

“Practically a record. Wanna make yourself useful and grab a few of these bags?”

“Are we done yet?”

“Yeah, we’re done.”

“Good. I retrieved the rest of your bags at the hold desk and took them to the car. Any more, and I’ll have to rent a truck.”

“You’re such a sport. Next time, I’ll buy the ice cream.”

Chapter Three

When they got home from the mall, Jessica remembered to check the messages on her cell phone. Two from her parents and one from Abbie—her college friend and now her cousin Mac’s wife—who’d heard about the fire and wanted to check on her.

Nick made several trips carrying in her new wardrobe, then backed out of her bedroom and stood in the hall as though he didn’t trust himself to be in the same room with her and a bed.

Attraction? she wondered. Or simply not interested and determined to keep his distance lest she get the wrong impression? Because she wasn’t absolutely sure, she became flustered.

“Um, my dad called twice. I guess I better call him back.”

“I thought you said you phoned him this morning.”

“I did. But I got the answering machine.”

Nick stuffed a hand in the pocket of his pants, and his brows drew together. “You left a message on your parents’ answering machine about your apartment burning down? They must be worried sick.”

The censure in his tone annoyed her. “I left a detailed, reassuring message, told them exactly where I was and what I planned to do today in case we missed connecting.” Criminy, the man even found fault with the way she made a telephone call. “I think I know how to talk to my own parents, Nick.”

He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Sorry. I saw the destruction of the fire firsthand. It haunts me.”

Just when her temper was about to soar, he said something to knock the wind out of it. She hadn’t thought about what he’d seen conjuring images of horror for him, as well as her.

“Apology accepted and one rendered,” she said. “Censure and bossiness pushes my hot button. I spent a lot of years getting my cousins Alex, Cade and Mac to realize I didn’t need their guidance, input and overprotective gestures at every turn. I’m a little touchy in that area.”

“Then we’re probably going to have a problem. I am who I am, Jess.”

She leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb, grinned when he took another backward step into the hall. “There’s no probably about it, sugar. But if I can train three cowboy sheikhs, it shouldn’t be too much of a pain to do the same drill with you.”

“Don’t try to handle me, Red.”

“Likewise.”

He stared at her for a long moment, then nodded and turned away. “I’ll be in the study.”

Jessica moved back into her room and sat on the bed, her legs threatening to give out. Why did sparring with Nick affect her so? Her knees felt like overcooked linguini.

Taking a calming breath, she punched in the number for the Desert Rose Ranch. She half expected the housekeeper, Ella, to answer the phone. Instead, both her parents’ voices came over the line, her father’s a half a beat after her mother’s—obviously from two different extensions.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Jessica! Honey, are you all right?” Vi Coleman’s voice trembled ever so slightly. She was one of the strongest women Jessica knew. To hear the emotion brought tears to Jess’s eyes.

“Didn’t you get my message, Mom? I told you everything was fine.”

“I know. But I’m a mother. If I can’t see and touch one of my children, I imagine the worst—even if you tell me different.”

Jessica was Vi’s only biological child. But Vi had raised her husband’s nephews, Alex, Cade and Mac, from the time they were young boys. Born to Arabian royalty, they’d come to live with their aunt and uncle when danger had threatened their lives. Vi truly considered them her own. And although Aunt Rose was now happily back in their lives after they’d believed her dead all these years, Vi was still the one who held most of the memories of the boys growing up, the one who’d been the main influence in shaping the men they’d become.

“I’m okay, Mom. None of my clothes survived, but I remedied that problem with a trip to the Galleria.”

Vi gave a chuckle that ended in a hitch. “I just had the most ridiculous urge to ask if you’d been wearing clean underwear.”

Jessica laughed, felt her heart open wide. She was so darn lucky to have such great parents. “Gosh, I love you.”

“And we love you,” Randy Coleman said, taking over for his wife who seemed to have developed a frog in her throat all of a sudden.

“Hey, Dad.” Jess cleared her own throat. “Guess that apartment building is one investment Coleman-Grayson should rethink.”

“The insurance company will make it right.”

“The building, perhaps, but not the lost rent.”

“That’s the least of my worries, honey. I’m just thankful you got out unharmed. We saw the photos in the Bridle paper this morning.”

“I figured you would. That’s why I called early. Where were y’all, anyway?”

“Khalahari had some trouble this morning and we were out in the stable with Alex and Hannah.”

“Is she all right?” Jessica knew the highly valuable Arabian mare wasn’t due to foal yet. But Khalahari had a history of tough pregnancies and foaling early. Khalid’s birth was a prime example. If it hadn’t been for Hannah Clark-Coleman, they’d have lost both Khalahari and Khalid. But Hannah, the young veterinarian her cousins had teased as a kid, came through for them all and saved the day. She’d also tempted the sheikh, and now she and Alex were married and the proud parents of four-month-old twin boys.

“Khalahari’s fine,” Randy said. “It was a false alarm. But you know how Alex is over that mare.”

“Mmm.”

“I’m glad you’re staying with Nick, sweetheart,” Vi said. “He’ll do right by you.”

Jessica wound the phone cord around her finger and refrained from commenting. Her parents had an entirely different perspective of Nick Grayson from hers.

“It shouldn’t be for very long. Once I get a car rented—or lease a new one—I’ll get out and look for a new place.”

“Oh, honey. Don’t rush it. Promise me,” Vi said. “Stay for a couple of weeks. Your father and I, at least, need that much time to recover our nerves.”

Jessica was sure they didn’t realize what they were asking of her. Her own nerves might not survive a two-week stay under Nick Grayson’s roof. Besides butting heads at nearly every turn, the uncontrollable adrenaline rush of desire she experienced at a mere look or touch was wearing her out.

“Okay, I won’t rush off.”

“I’m sure you have a hundred things to do, so we won’t keep you with any more of our worries. You call if you need us, you hear?” Randy said.

“I’ll call, Daddy. And let the rest of the family know that everything here’s fine. I love you guys.”

She disconnected the call, then dialed the guest house at the Desert Rose, where Abbie and Mac had moved into after they’d married. Might as well take care of all the calls at once.

Twenty minutes later, she still sat on the edge of the bed, her nerves humming from retelling the horror of the fire. She’d played it down of course, but her own vivid memories wouldn’t be quieted.

Action was what she needed, she decided, and she got up to put away her new wardrobe. She ought to exercise her independence and go to a hotel. But she’d promised her parents she’d stay with Nick. It made them feel better. Her father was proud of her, truly wanted her to follow in his footsteps, but sometimes he hurt her feelings by insisting she rely on Nick.

Still, she hadn’t slept well last night—or rather the hours left of the early morning—because she’d kept seeing smoke and flames and terror every time she’d closed her eyes, hearing the scream of alarms and the wail of sirens.

This house had fire sprinklers hidden in the high ceilings, plenty of windows and doors to get out of in a hurry if the need arose.

And as much as she hated to admit it, she felt better knowing someone else was in the house. Even if he did frustrate the very devil out of her at times.

About to stuff her new black bikini in the drawer, she changed her mind, pulled the tags off and slipped the two pieces on under her sundress. Struggling a bit with the top, she managed to get it in place.

Water had always been a stress reliever for her. Be it the bathtub, shower, a swimming pool or a lake, it revived her.

Carrying her sandals in her hand, she skipped down the richly carpeted staircase and went out the back glass doors. She bypassed the resortlike swimming pool and made her way down the grassy slope of lawn toward the lake.

Clouds gathered in the sky overhead, the humidity hovering at a sticky eighty percent. The unique, familiar smell of the lake surrounded her, wrapping her in a blanket of comfort much the way the smell of freshly baked chocolate-chip cookies evoked warm memories of family gatherings in the kitchen at home on the ranch.

Honestly. She wasn’t homesick after only a couple of months. She was just feeling…displaced. That was all.

The boards of the dock that extended out over the water were smooth beneath her feet. Someone had recently slapped a coat of resin over the wood, ensuring bare feet would remain splinter-free.

She glanced longingly at the expensive powerboat, the sun glancing off its white hull. The duel outboards would really make this baby scoot. Jessica loved to go fast—cars, horses, boats. It was so exhilarating, that feeling of being on the edge of danger, free.

Sitting down, she dangled her feet in the cool water, then pulled her sundress over her head, laid it aside and slipped into the water feetfirst.

She gasped as water closed around her. Warmed by the sun, the first foot or so was deceptive. After that, it was icy cold. Her body adjusted after a couple of minutes and she began to swim, reveling in the way the lake caressed her skin, holding her as she rolled over and floated on her back.

She might have dozed for a minute, but something brushed her leg beneath the water and startled her. Heart jumping, she glanced around, realized it was just a reed tangled around her ankle.

About the time she relaxed again, she looked up and saw Nick coming toward her on the dock.

Carrying a towel.

For some reason, that annoyed her. Oh, sure, she’d forgotten to bring something to dry off with, but the fact that Nick was the one to provide it touched a nerve. Besides, what was wrong with letting a body air-dry in the warm sunshine?

He still wore his suit pants and dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing tanned, muscular forearms. Didn’t the guy believe in getting comfortable?

“The swimming pool too civilized for you?” he asked.

She treaded water, looking up at him. The sun was behind his head, making it difficult to see his expression. She imagined he had a fine view of her, though.

“Lake water’s much nicer to my skin. Besides, it’s what I’m used to. I swim in the lake at the Desert Rose, so this feels like home.”

He crouched down, shifting out of the direct sunlight so she didn’t have to squint. Or wonder what expression he wore.

The traditional scowl. Figured.

It bothered her even more that those rigid scowls turned her on. Sheesh.

She reached up for the edge of the dock, afraid she’d drown herself with the way this man affected her limbs and her breathing.

“Want a hand?” he asked.

“I’m good, thanks.” She saw his gaze dip to her cleavage. Heck, even if she ducked her shoulders under the water, he’d still be able to see through the clear lake water. She’d churned up the water just enough to have it lapping softly against the dock, each buoyant ripple gently lifting her breasts.

And he still looked.

Honestly. Talk about ruining all the benefits of the stress-relief swim. “On second thought, maybe I will—”

Before she could finish her sentence or advise him to step back so he wouldn’t get wet, he hooked his hands beneath her arms and lifted her out of the water as though she weighed little more than a leather saddle.

She grabbed for his arms, then flattened her palms on his chest to steady herself on her feet, leaving wet handprints on his upper arms and front of his shirt.

“Criminy. Warn a person, why don’t you.” She reached for the towel, dabbed at the water on herself, then dabbed at his shirt.

He stepped back. “I’ll dry.”

“Well, it serves you right. I could have gotten out just fine by myself and saved you a change of clothes—though why you’re still wearing your business clothes is beyond me.”

“Jessica?”

“What?” She blotted her face and chest with the towel, held it in front of her.

A dimple winked in one of his cheeks. He picked up the end of the towel, dabbed at her jaw. “You missed a spot.”

She could hardly draw a breath, much less speak. After standing frozen like a dummy for a full three seconds, she snatched the towel back from him and wrapped it around her torso, covering herself from chest to knees. “Thank you. I can get the rest.”

He stepped back and shoved his hands back in his pockets. “Do I make you nervous?”

“Of course not.” Absolutely.

“Then how come you get that little twitch beside your eye when I get close?”

“Annoyance, probably.”

His lips curved ever so slightly. “I came out to tell you I’ll be placing that conference call to the West Coast in twenty minutes.”

“Oh. Thank you for reminding me. I’ll be right in.”

“You’ve got time still.” He turned, started to walk away, then paused. “Hey, Red?”

She’d just picked up the edge of the towel to blot her hair. “Yes?”

“I like your suit. It’s, uh…sexy.”

She dropped her arm and the corner of the towel she’d lifted, her jaw going slack when he winked.

Doggone it, she was going to figure this man out, learn to keep her emotions on an even keel around him. Otherwise, the way her heart kept leaping, she’d have a heart attack at the ripe young age of twenty-five.

On the other hand…sexy was much better than the bland “nice” he’d uttered over the red dress at the mall. It was definitely better than “kiddo.” And calling her Red…now that was about as unoriginal as you could get when faced with a woman like her with bright red hair.

In all honesty, she kind of liked the nickname. It was friendly, more intimate. Much better than kiddo, that was for sure, though not as good as darling or sweetheart or…

Criminy! Get a grip!

FIVE MINUTES BEFORE the scheduled call, Jessica knocked lightly on the open door of the study and went in when Nick gestured her forward. He was speaking on the phone, and since the conversation sounded like a personal one, she wandered around the room.

She trailed her fingers over dark, rich woods, oversize, comfortable furniture and shelves of books. On the wall was a photo of Nick’s brother, Chase, at the helm of a sailboat, and another one of him holding a trophy beside a race car. There were several poses of his parents, as well as pictures of beautiful Arabian horses that she knew for certain had come from Desert Rose stock.

For a guy who seemed to be all work and little play, the pictures on the walls painted him as a family man. There were none of the priceless, stuffy art pieces that a lot of wealthy people treasured. Instead, the paneling was adorned with images of his parents, his brother and the sleek Arabians he loved. Interesting.

She shoved a stray curl off her forehead. Her hair was still damp from her swim, so she’d pinned it in a loose knot on top of her head. She saw Nick’s gaze pass over her, saw his frown and could just imagine what he was thinking—that a barefoot woman in a short sundress wasn’t his idea of a businesswoman to be taken seriously.

But honestly. She wasn’t about to put on panty hose, a suit and heels just to listen to a business meeting over the speaker phone. This was one of the things that annoyed her—being judged by appearance.

Before she could get totally carried away putting thoughts in his head that, in all fairness, might not be there, he hung up the phone and leaned back in the chair.

“Change of plans. The CEO at Lusklow had an illness in the family to attend to.”

“Oh, I hope everything’s all right.”

“Yeah, me, too. They suspect his wife has cancer. He’s dropping everything and staying home with her until they get word.”

“I like him already.”

Nick raised a brow. “That surprises you—that a man would put his family ahead of business?”

“No. It doesn’t surprise me. I just said I liked that about him. The men in my family put their personal lives above business. It’s what I’m used to.”

She sat down on a leather chair, felt the dampness of her bathing suit seep through onto the back of her sundress. Great. Now she’d have to find a way to back out of the room without looking like a total dork.

“You’ll learn that I generally do business only with people I like and respect.”

“Are you saying if a company came to you with a surefire moneymaking proposition, no way to lose, and you didn’t like the major players, you’d turn down the opportunity?”

“Yes. There are plenty of deals out there.”

“Do you ever run into a situation where somebody doesn’t like you?”

“Sure. Same holds true. If we can’t get along, no sense mingling our business.”

Jessica wondered if that “we” was actually aimed at her. Heck, they could hardly sustain a truce for twelve hours. And they were already business partners.

That worried her. Was there room at the top of Coleman-Grayson for both of them? Their personalities were totally different from their fathers. Just because Jared Grayson and Randy Coleman meshed as a team didn’t mean Nick and Jessica would. Their fathers had formed a partnership based on like ideas—and had chosen each other.

Nick and Jessica were tossed into the arena by birth, not forethought.

All around, this could be a risky thing.

Though it was a risk Jessica was willing to take.

After graduation, she’d put off coming to work in Dallas, sure that she’d miss the ranch. But as her cousins got married and their wives became more active in the horse-ranching business, Jess had begun to feel out of the loop.

That was probably just the push she’d needed, because she’d realized immediately that working at Coleman-Grayson in the city appealed to a reckless, hungry side of her she’d always known was there but never fully trusted or given rein to.

She loved every facet of the corporate world she’d been introduced to so far.

Now if she could just get Nick Grayson to get with the program and give her more responsibility, she could set about sating that hunger.

First, though, she needed to finish putting the pieces of her charred life back in order. Starting with wheels. She’d promised her folks she’d stay at Nick’s for a couple of weeks. She wasn’t going to rely on him for transportation, too.

“Well, since the afternoon is so conveniently freed up, I think I’ll go change and call a cab to—”

“What do you need with a cab?” he interrupted. “I’ve got plenty of cars.”

She laughed. “That sounds really snooty. Cars plural. Shame on you.”

“What’s wrong with having more than one car?”

“Nothing, I guess. But since I don’t have even one at the moment, I need to hit the dealership and remedy that. Then I thought I’d drive by the apartment building and see if there’s anything left of my stuff.”

“First off, you should lease a car in the company’s name. So I’ll need to go with you.”

She kept a lid on her temper. It was an effort.

“You forget that I’m a board member and major stockholder. I think I can lease a car on my own signature. However, if you want to stand by my side and do your big-scary-guy scowling thing, that’s fine by me. It’ll save me from having to haggle so hard with the salesman.” There. She’d spoken pleasantly enough.

He ran a hand over his forehead, right where the crease showed his emotions, and spoke as though she hadn’t said a word. “Second, I don’t think you should go back to the apartment yet. I doubt the fire officials have finished going over the scene.”

“Strike two, Grayson.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m well past the age of being told what I can and can’t or should and shouldn’t do. We’ve covered this ground before, you and me, and it dismays me to have to repeat the lesson—every few minutes, I might add.”

He stared at her as though she’d grown an extra head. Then he shook his head and the corner of his lips twitched. “Did your cousins actually put up with this sass?”

She grinned. “Absolutely. So, hey. If royalty can get in line, so can you.”

He bowed like a commoner before a queen. “Very well, Ms. Coleman. I shall be out front by the car, awaiting your instructions.”

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