“Damn it, Lisa, don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re as curious about me as I am about you.”

“Curious?” she asked.

“If you were a few years older—”

She cut him off, angry. “And exactly what difference would a few years make? You’re acting as if I don’t know the score. I’m twenty-one, I can vote, drink and kiss any man I want.”

His hands rested on her shoulders now. “A kiss could start something neither of us are ready for.”

“Or it could prove there’s nothing for either of us to worry about. You know—all smoke and no fire.”

“Oh, Lisa.” Her name was a protest…a warning.

She could back away now when she still had the chance.

But she didn’t want to back away.

Dear Reader,

It is always an honor to take part in a continuity series. I had a special fondness for my heroine Lisa, since I created her for the original LOGAN’S LEGACY single-title series. Her Prince Charming, a Texas tycoon, gives her a Valentine’s Day fantasy date that she’ll remember forever.

Valentine’s Day has always been special for my husband and me—we exchange hearts again, as well as presents, remembering the romance that first drew us together. It is an occasion for us to renew our commitment to each other, to celebrate our romantic journey thus far and the future we are building together.

I wish my readers a happy Valentine’s Day.

All my best,

Karen Rose Smith

Falling for the Texas Tycoon
Karen Rose Smith

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KAREN ROSE SMITH

Karen Rose Smith, award-winning author of over fifty published novels, loves to write. She began putting pen to paper in high school when she discovered poetry as a creative outlet. Also writing for her high school newspaper, intending to teach someday, she never suspected crafting emotional and romantic stories would become her life’s work! Married for thirty-five years, she and her husband reside in Pennsylvania with their two cats, Ebbie and London. Readers can e-mail Karen through her Web site at www.karenrosesmith.com or write to her at P. O. Box 1545, Hanover, PA 17331.

To my husband, Steve. Happy Valentine’s Day!

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

Epilogue

Chapter One

Men like Alan Barrett were trouble with a capital T. With his Stetson and his I-can-beat-down-any-obstacle-in-my-path smile, he obviously thought he could get his own way no matter what.

He was wrong.

Although Lisa Sanders had been her boss’s gatekeeper for only a month, she was already good at it. No one charmed or intimidated her. Not even a six-foot-two Texan who claimed to be a friend of Brian’s. He was not listed on her boss’s schedule and that’s all that mattered.

She stared into his to-die-for blue eyes, ignored the runaway beat of her pulse and repeated, “Mr. Summers is in a meeting and can’t be disturbed. His schedule is tight today. I might be able to fit you in around one-fifteen.”

Alan Barrett’s smile faded. “Look, Miss—” His gaze dropped to the nameplate on her desk. “Miss Sanders. Besides the fact that we do business together, Brian and I are friends. I spoke to him less than an hour ago. He said he’d meet with me at ten. It’s now ten.”

Lisa wasn’t simply fresh out of college with a degree in business, she had a history of street smarts behind her, one that made her square her shoulders and act even more protective of Brian. He wasn’t only her boss. He and his wife, Carrie, were her benefactors. If it weren’t for them, she didn’t know where she’d be now. Maybe still in a homeless shelter, her baby put up for adoption to people she didn’t know. Brian and Carrie had given her a home and a new life, and she would be forever grateful to them. As soon as she earned her real estate license, she’d be more than Brian’s office manager, and she’d never ever let him down. She wanted him to know he could depend on her just as she’d depended on him.

Motioning to the group of pale gray, leather-covered club chairs in the waiting area where the receptionist was located—Alan Barrett had bypassed the admin and come straight to her—Lisa said firmly but politely, “If you take a seat, I’ll check with Mr. Summers when his meeting is over.”

The Texan’s gaze became steely as he assessed everything from Lisa’s chin-length bob and navy suit to her color of lipstick. A slight shiver trembled through her when she realized she was attracted to his raw sex appeal, the jut of his rugged jaw, his broad, muscular shoulders. Even with his hat shadowing his face, the lines there told her he had to be near forty. He was way too old for her and definitely out of her league. She didn’t react to men this way. She had no time for men. She was on a career path. Besides all that, she doubted she could find a man who could accept the fact that she’d given away her child.

“Since I haven’t seen you here before, Miss Sanders, I’ll take into consideration the fact that you’re probably new and trying to do a good job. But if you don’t buzz Brian and let him know I’m here, you might lose it.”

She’d suspected this man might try to turn to intimidation tactics. His type always did. She didn’t do well with patronizing authority figures. The other employees who worked for Brian were under the illusion that she was a relative of her boss’s and he’d given her this job to help her get a good start. Only his and Carrie’s closest friends knew the whole story—that they’d taken her in in her eighth month of pregnancy, when she was eighteen, had adopted her baby and treated her like a daughter ever since, including paying for her college tuition. If Mr. Barrett didn’t “know” about her, then how close a friend of Brian’s could he be?

“Believe me, Mr. Barrett, I’m not going to lose my job. If you don’t want to have a seat, then I guess you’ll have to leave.”

If Alan Barrett was surprised she hadn’t backed down, he hid it well. Glancing at his watch again, he said in an I’m-not-happy-about-this-but-I’ll-deal-with-it voice, “I needed to see Brian immediately because I have an important call to make in half an hour. Do you have a conference room I can use so I can make it now?”

She’d rarely known men like Alan Barrett to be flexible. She supposed Brian wouldn’t mind if he used one of the offices. She’d just have to keep an eye on him. Pushing back the contract she’d been studying, she stood.

“Follow me,” she said crisply, then led him to a hall to the right of her desk. The hairs at the nape of her neck prickled as he followed her. She hoped her suit jacket wasn’t wrinkled yet. She hoped the back seam of her skirt was straight. She hoped…

She hoped nothing where this man was concerned. When his business with Brian was finished, he’d be gone.

At the first conference room they reached, she opened the door and let it swing inward. Not intending to enter, she started to move out of the way. But she wasn’t quite quick enough. As she turned to sidestep, there was Alan Barrett practically nose to nose with her. Or more like nose to chest.

When she looked up, her breath caught in her throat. She inhaled his cologne, which was woodsy and male, and felt so small and fragile standing near him it was as if he could swallow her up. The fabric of his Western-cut suit coat brushed her own jacket. There was a flicker in his eyes, a tightening of his lips. Did that mean he was affected, too?

What was happening that she was having fantasies at work? Maybe she should take Carrie’s advice and go out on a few dates, even if she didn’t intend to get serious with anyone.

Regrouping, she quickly stepped away from him. “Take as long as you like. When Brian finishes with his meeting, I’ll tell him you’re here.”

Then, feeling as if she were running from the devil himself, she hurried back to the safety of her desk and the work that was going to be her future.

Alan didn’t like to be kept waiting.

He never sat on the sidelines—not at the family ranch in Texas, not when he was working in real estate wherever it took him. For the past year, he’d been dividing his time between Texas and Portland, Oregon, doing more deals with Brian here and in other areas of the West Coast.

Unable to help himself, he looked out at the blond-haired young woman who had barred him from Brian’s door. Damn, he was used to getting his own way, and he wasn’t accustomed to his pulse racing as it had when he’d looked into her green eyes and heart-shaped face. With a low oath, he told himself Lisa Sanders was probably not much older than his daughter.

Turning away from her with some reluctance—and wondering if she was as efficient as she looked—he went over to the window and peered down the five stories. Taking his phone from his belt, he dialed his daughter’s school. This call to Christina’s guidance counselor was important. She’d been accepted at Stanford and USC, though she was seriously considering the University of Illinois because of the animal sciences program. His ex-wife didn’t like that idea at all. She wanted Christina to pursue psychology or premed, a more highbrow science. But his daughter had her own mind. She was the light of his life and, to his consternation, could usually get him to side with her. Sherri would also be having this discussion about colleges with Christina’s guidance counselor either today or tomorrow.

Alan brought up the guidance counselor’s name and pressed Send. Hopefully, she’d be free and they could have their discussion a little bit early.

Half an hour later, finished with his conversation, he exited the conference room. About to approach Lisa Sanders and demand again she tell Brian he was here, he stopped to watch her a moment as she opened mail. Her bob was chic and blunt-cut, swinging forward when she tilted her head. Her suit fit her slim body as if it was custom-made. Her white blouse had a demure scoop neck, and he saw she was wearing a locket. A present from a boyfriend?

Probably.

Alarm bells went off and he told himself not to even wonder about it. He’d never had a penchant for younger women, so why start now?

But there had been a maturity in Lisa Sanders’s eyes when she looked at him that had almost startled him.

Now she quickly slit open an envelope, took out the sheet of paper…and went absolutely white.

What kind of mail could cause that reaction?

As he approached her, he saw her hands were shaking. “What’s wrong?” he asked, standing in front of her desk.

She was still staring at the sheet of paper in her hand.

“Miss Sanders, are you all right?”

The sound of her name must have caught her attention, and she glanced up. When their gazes met, he felt that full-body impact again. He looked deeper and thought he saw fear. What was this young woman afraid of?

Putting on her official office manager’s face again, she blinked, took a deep breath, then replied, “I’m fine.”

“Your hands are trembling.”

She looked down at them, then at the letter. Folding it, she quickly tucked it into her suit jacket. “I’m just a little…cold, I guess, with the damp weather outside and all….”

When he was in Portland it seemed as if it was always damp. But he could sense a lie when he heard it, and she was lying through her teeth. She wasn’t cold. She was upset about that letter in her pocket.

It was none of his business.

Since his encounter with Brian’s gatekeeper earlier, he hadn’t pegged her for a shrinking violet. The letter she’d received in the mail must have upset her greatly.

Suddenly men’s voices burst from behind the closed door. Seconds later, Brian and two men Alan assumed were clients were standing near Lisa’s desk. Brian greeted Alan and introduced him to the men, who soon excused themselves and left Summers Development. All the while, Alan kept one eye on Lisa, who was still pale and fidgeting with messages that had probably come in while Brian was in his meeting.

After the clients left, Brian turned to Alan. “It’s good to see you again. I missed you this past month. How are things in Texas?”

“My brother’s a good manager. I don’t have to worry when I’m away from the ranch.”

Now Brian turned to Lisa to include her in the conversation. “I guess you’ve met Mr. Barrett?”

Lisa gave her boss what Alan suspected was a forced smile. “Yes, I have. I didn’t want to interrupt you when he arrived,” she admitted honestly.

“Alan and I’ve been doing a lot of work together. You can always interrupt me when he shows up.” Brian took the messages she handed to him, flipped through them, then stuffed them into his pocket. “I’ll take care of these later. I want to get our meeting started. Lisa, I’d like you to sit in.”

Her green eyes went wide with surprise. “You would?”

“Sure,” Brian said easily. “The only way you’re going to get experience is to be involved in what I do. When you earn your real estate license, you’ll really be ready to go. You might want to take some notes for us, too.”

Ever since Alan had stood within three feet of Lisa, he could smell her perfume. It was a haunting fragrance, somewhere between flowers and musk. Now he got another good whiff as she leaned toward her desk, grabbing a notepad and pen.

Stepping aside, he motioned for her to precede him into Brian’s office. Their gazes held for just a second too long and he felt that jolt of adrenaline again that had been missing from his life for many years.

As Alan waited for Lisa to be seated in one of the chairs in front of Brian’s desk, Brian explained, “Lisa graduated in December with a degree in business.”

“Margery left?” Fifty-five years old now, Margery had been Brian’s office manager for as long as Alan had been working with him.

“Margery’s husband retired and she’s traveling with him. Lisa’s only taking over the job temporarily until she has her license.”

Alan wondered why Brian had chosen Lisa out of all the people he could have hired for the position. Why would he be waiting for her to earn her license to join his team? Why wouldn’t he hire someone with experience?

As he checked out Brian’s interaction with Lisa, he didn’t see any evidence that his colleague was enamored with the young woman, or that Lisa was attracted to Brian. Still, one never knew what went on behind closed doors. Brian had once alluded to a rocky time in his marriage, but Allan had never seen evidence of that, and with adopting Timothy, he and Carrie seemed to have absolutely everything they wanted.

Studying Lisa, Alan thought she still looked unsettled. She was staring down at her pad, pen in hand, ready to take notes. But he sensed she was distracted.

He was sure of it when Brian began talking about the project they were working on. She was writing, but not much, and she didn’t look up.

“I got the paperwork you faxed me yesterday,” Brian said to Alan. “All of the properties look as if they’ll be suitable. Do you have a meeting set up with the investors?”

“Next Thursday. I thought we could fly down on Wednesday. Does that fit your schedule?”

“That should work out fine. Lisa, I’m going to want you to fly along on this trip and be an assistant to both me and Alan.”

When his office manager didn’t look up, Brian said a little more loudly, “Lisa?”

Her head came up then and she flushed, putting color back into her cheeks. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

Brian’s brows quirked up. “I said I want you to fly to Texas with me and Alan and act as our assistant on this venture. I hope we can put together a deal for the golf resort. Fortunately, it’s practically in Alan’s backyard and we’re going to be staying at his family’s ranch.”

“You’re sure you want me to come along?” She glanced at Alan, as if being in close proximity to him wasn’t a good idea.

He didn’t know whether to be insulted or flattered.

“No better way to get your feet wet,” Brian assured her.

“I’m still furnishing my apartment and—”

“As long as you have a bed to sleep in and a chair to sit on, that can wait, can’t it?” her boss asked.

Again Lisa glanced at Alan. “Of course it can. I guess I’m just anxious to settle into my own place.”

“You know Carrie and I will help you do that any way we can, including shoving around furniture.”

As the discussion turned back to business, Lisa took copious notes, as if she’d put her distraction behind her. This young woman intrigued Alan, and he’d known her less than a morning.

After the discussion about the proposed golf resort wound down, he checked his watch. “I’d better be going. I have another meeting in half an hour and then I’ll see you again at four to discuss the Sacramento resort with Joe Dulchek.”

When Brian stood with a nod, Alan and Lisa rose, too, and found themselves standing very close together. He was a good six inches taller than she was. She was so slim and fragile-looking, yet the set of her shoulders and the fire in her eyes told him she’d fight for whatever she wanted. The term spitfire came to mind. Her perfume tempted him again, and he found himself studying her face.

He wasn’t sure what prodded him to say it, but before she went her way and he went his, he advised her, “Bring comfortable clothes along to Texas when you pack. If you have boots, throw those in, too. We’ve got horses if you want to ride.”

She said softly, “I’ve only been riding once before.”

“We’ve got a few gentle horses.”

“He’s being modest,” Brian interjected. “They breed cutting horses as well as their own cattle. You school them, too, don’t you?”

“When I have the time. Neal does most of that now. I’ve been away from the ranch so much this past year, he’s taken on horses I know nothing about.”

Lisa looked at her boss again. “How long will we be staying at Mr. Barrett’s?”

“We’ll probably be there three or four days. We’ll see how the meetings progress and how much property we can get covered.”

“Should I make airline reservations?”

“No need for that. I’ve got my own jet,” Alan explained. “My pilot can be ready at a hour’s notice if he has to be.”

When Alan mentioned his jet, most women looked impressed, but not Lisa Sanders. She simply said, “I see.”

“If you have those notes on my desk by the end of the day, that will be fine,” Brian informed her. Then he asked, “You’re going to lunch with Craig, aren’t you?”

She nodded and her lips turned up in a genuine smile. “I have to get changed. No way do I want to ride on his bike dressed like this.” She held out her hand to Alan. “It’s good to meet you, Mr. Barrett. Next time you come in, I’ll make sure to buzz Brian right away.”

Was she mending fences because they were going to be working together? Taking her hand, he realized it was cool to the touch—at first. Her handshake seemed to generate heat that flowed through him like aged bourbon.

They released each other at the same time, and he thought she looked as startled as he felt. Damn, this was a kind of chemistry he’d never had with a woman before. How was that even possible? At thirty-eight, hadn’t he had every kind of experience there was with women?

Looking a bit flustered, Lisa left Brian’s office.

Brian was shuffling through a few papers on his desk when Alan asked, “How old is she?”

“Lisa? She’s twenty-one.”

“Are you sure you don’t want someone more experienced to sit in on these meetings? I can have someone join us from my office in Rocky Ridge.”

“Lisa’s young, but she’s a hard worker and she learns fast. She went through four years of college in three and a half, even with working summers. Still, if you’d feel more confident having one of your people involved…”

Alan had never had any reason to doubt Brian’s judgment. “No, if you feel she’s what we need, that’s fine.”

As he left Brian’s office a short time later, after a discussion about the colleges Christina was considering, he stopped short. A young man who appeared to be about Lisa’s age was escorting her through the double glass doors. He looked like a biker with his shaggy hair, leather jacket, pierced brow, earrings and boots. Then Alan noticed Lisa. She’d changed, all right—into a long-sleeved black sweater that molded to her breasts and hugged her waist, and low-slung black jeans with a belt studded with rhinestones. She also carried a leather jacket over one arm, and her boots were similar to the young man’s.

Seeing the two of them together made Alan feel every one of his thirty-eight years. In spite of that, he acknowledged what he’d felt that morning when Lisa Sanders had barred his way and stood up to him. He’d had the overwhelming urge to kiss her.

If that wasn’t an insane fantasy, he didn’t know what was. But he was not going to let his imagination take on a life of its own. He was not going to think about Lisa Sanders again, except as Brian’s office manager who would be assisting them on this project.

End of story.

After locking the door to the unisex bathroom at Summers Development, Lisa pulled her sweater over her head so she could change back into her business suit. The upside-down mermaid tattoo on her left arm practically winked at her. The peace sign tattoo high on her other wrist also reminded her she was trying to leave her past behind. No one here knew about her tattoos except Brian, of course. She always kept them covered. They really weren’t befitting an up-and-coming professional.

As if it were calling to her again, she reached for the note in her jeans pocket. Opening it, she read, “You owe me. Don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. She’d almost told Craig about it. After all, they’d been friends when she’d returned to Portland, pregnant. Back then, after she’d had Timothy, she’d even thought they might connect romantically. But they never really had. Craig was two years older than she was, protective and they’d settled into a friendship that was valuable and she hoped lasting.

The note looked as if it had been generated by computer on plain white paper. When she was homeless and living on the streets, she’d met some shady characters. She’d met pimps who wanted her to turn tricks for them. She’d met drug dealers and avoided them, but not before they checked her over, trying to figure what she could do for them.

And then there was Thad, Timothy’s biological father. He’d wanted nothing to do with her and the baby because he’d had his own plans. How could the note be from him, when he’d signed away his parental rights?

Just as she had.

The difference was, she was still connected to Timothy and always would be. Some nights her heart ached unbearably because of the decision she’d made. But she’d known it was best for Timothy then, and she believed it was best for him now.

What did this note mean, anyway? Was it a precursor to blackmail? Did someone think that, since she was connected to Brian and Carrie, she had money, too?

Folding the note, she slipped it into her purse. She’d have to think about it some more before she told anyone. Besides, what was there to tell? She was certainly not going to worry Brian and Carrie unnecessarily, not after everything they’d done for her. She was making a life on her own now and she wouldn’t depend on anyone else.

The locket around her neck swung free as she bent to remove her boots and then her jeans. In only her panties and bra, she opened the heart necklace and looked at the little face of the baby she’d given away, touched the silky lock of his hair.

“You’re happy where you are,” she said, her voice catching. “That’s all that matters. Carrie and Brian love you as if you were their very own.”

Standing up straight and squaring her shoulders, she quickly dressed in her suit and high heels, ran a comb through her hair, reapplied lipstick and gazed at the professional woman she was trying to become.

Alan Barrett’s tanned face with its firm jaw and crooked lines around his eyes seemed to gaze back at her. She blinked. Alan was years older than she was. He was Brian’s colleague. He was too handsome and he knew it. He was a little bit arrogant, determined and even authoritarian.

So why couldn’t she stop thinking about him?

Because he’d looked at her with such concern after she’d opened the note? Or because when their eyes met, she felt rattled down to her spike heels?

She doubted very much if Alan Barrett would like a woman with tattoos.

She doubted if Alan Barrett would even consider getting involved with a woman who had given up her child.

Chapter Two

During a game of hide-and-seek that evening, Lisa spotted Timothy by the leg of the dining room table. “I see you!”

Giggling, he dashed under the table, where the white cloth partially hid him. After she crouched down, Lisa got to her hands and knees and went after him. As she caught him, he laughed.

“You can’t hide from me,” she warned him, tickling his tummy.

When Carrie spoke, Lisa could hardly hear her above their laughter. Releasing Timothy, she peered out from under the tablecloth.

Carrie was smiling, and she wasn’t alone. “Brian brought a friend home for dinner.”

As Lisa’s gaze traveled from boots, up expensive slacks to the Western-cut jacket, she practically groaned. The friend that Brian had brought home was Alan Barrett.

Minus his Stetson, he looked amused as he said, “I used to do that with my daughter. In some ways, it seems as if it were yesterday.”

Carrie explained, “Alan’s daughter will be leaving for college in the fall.”

He had a daughter. He was married. Lisa almost breathed a sigh of relief at that news.

Timothy chose that moment to scramble away from her and run to his mom, snagging Carrie by one leg. “Can I have a cookie, please?”

A beautiful woman and a former model, Carrie stooped and lifted Timothy into her arms. Her auburn hair hid her face until she absently brushed it away. “It’s almost bedtime. I suppose you can have a cookie if you have a glass of milk with it.”

One of those little pangs stabbed Lisa’s heart. Carrie had final say in everything Timothy did. She was a wonderful mom and Lisa couldn’t have found anyone better to be a mother to her son.

Crawling out from under the table, Lisa felt foolish. When she’d arrived at Carrie and Brian’s, she’d changed from her suit into the clothes she had worn to have lunch with Craig. Now she was rumpled after roughhousing with Timothy. She knew her hair was probably a mess and her lipstick nonexistent. Some professional image she was projecting to a man she’d be working with!

Ruffling Timothy’s hair, Brian said, “I’m going to check messages in my office.” After loosening his tie, he motioned to the top of the buffet and suggested to Alan, “Make yourself at home. Drinks are there. Lisa can tell you where anything is if you can’t find it.”

“Dinner will be ready as soon as I get this little rascal a snack and put him to bed,” Carrie added. “I’m so glad you could join us, Alan. Please do make yourself at home.”

A few moments later, the dining room seemed small and quiet with just the two of them in it. Alan seemed to tower over Lisa. Awkward tension vibrated between them until he stepped toward the buffet.

Searching for some topic of conversation, Lisa asked, “Where will your daughter be going to school?”

Alan picked up an old-fashioned glass and tipped the lid from the ice bucket. “She has to make up her mind soon. I’ll find out when I get back to the ranch next week.”

“I imagine it’s hard to be away from your family when you travel for work.”

Although Lisa had told herself from the moment of Timothy’s birth that he was no longer hers, although she’d given him to Brian and Carrie so he’d have a secure future where hers had been uncertain, she’d still missed him terribly when she’d gone off to college. She’d thought once she’d started her own life she could put her past behind her and move on. That had included reconciling herself to the fact that although she’d given birth to a son, he was no longer hers and she was not a mother. But even her heavy load of course work hadn’t been able to make her forget about Timothy, though her resolve had always been strong and sure. She had done what was best for him. Thankful that Brian and Carrie were letting her stay involved in his life, she knew that the dull ache in her heart might never go away. But she’d always be a backup to Brian and Carrie. She just hoped as Timothy matured and learned the truth, he’d understand. Most of all, she hoped that he’d forgive her.

“I have been away a lot the past six months,” Alan replied. “Most of the time I’ve been working up here in Portland with Brian. I bought a condo in the fall to cut back on hotel bills.” He flashed the crooked grin that made Lisa’s toes curl in her boots.

He’s married, she scolded herself. No toe-curling allowed.

“Did I hear you say you got a new apartment?” he asked, glancing at her.

Alan had apparently been in and out of Brian’s life for the past six months, but she didn’t know what Brian might have told him. So she treaded carefully.

“Yes, I’m furnishing it, little by little. I dropped over tonight because Carrie had some extra things in the attic she thought I could use.”

“Brian and Carrie are a great couple. Truth be told, I never thought I’d want a partner, but Brian’s got great instincts and something else that’s hard to find these days—integrity.” He poured Scotch into his glass and then soda. “Can I fix you something?” he asked when he was done.

That surprised her, and he must have seen it in her expression.

“What? You think a man can’t fix a drink for a lady? Believe me, whenever Christina stays with me, I hear about the changing roles of men and women. I think she even did a paper on it.”

“Stays with you?” That sounded as if—

“Yes. I’ve had joint custody with my ex-wife since Christina was ten.”

“You’re…divorced?”

“Yes, I am.”

The toe-curling was back double-time now. “Maybe I will have a club soda,” she murmured.

“Ice?” he asked.

She nodded, then watched as his very large, tanned hands took the tongs and dropped three cubes into the glass. After he unscrewed the lid, he poured in the soda. He and Lisa reached for a lime slice at the same time. His fingers were hot, and when her skin touched his, she became hot, too. She knew a flush rose to her cheeks as she pulled back and let him add the fruit to her glass. When he handed it to her, she was careful that their fingers didn’t meet.

“Your lunch date looked like an interesting guy,” Alan remarked nonchalantly.

“Craig and I have known each other since…” She stopped. “For a long time.”

“You dated through college?”

“No. We kept in touch, but with him in Portland and me at college, we went our separate ways.”

“But now you’re back and he’s here, too.”

Was Alan fishing or just making conversation? She had the feeling he was going to cast out a few more lines, and she didn’t want to answer his questions. They were going to be working together, and she didn’t want him to be judging her while they were. And he would judge her if he found out about Timothy. She was sure of it. She did not want Brian’s friend looking at her as the homeless, unwed mother she’d once been. Maybe it was pride on her part, but she was trying to create a future.

“I’m going to see if Timothy finished his snack. Maybe I can read him a bedtime story before dinner. If you’ll excuse me…”

After a long, studying look, Alan tipped his glass to her. “Bedtime stories are almost as important as goodnight kisses. Enjoy.”

His words lingered as she went to the kitchen to find Timothy. Alan sounded as if he understood. He sounded as if he knew the importance of being a father.

One more reason to keep her past a secret.

During dinner, Alan’s gaze kept going back to Lisa again and again, in spite of his intentions to have a pleasant meal with Brian and Carrie and ignore the young woman who’d been in and out of his thoughts all afternoon. Damn it, she had a pretty face. Yes, she had glossy hair he’d love to run his hands through. Yes, she had a curvy figure that looked wonderful in low-slung jeans. And those boots—

He stabbed a bite of cake as if it might run away from him. He wanted a few questions answered. He and Brian weren’t close friends—not yet, anyway—but he’d been here for dinner before and there had never been any talk about Lisa Sanders. Yet here she was, acting as if she was a relative of some kind.

“So, Lisa, have you always lived in Portland?”

After a quick glance at Brian, she wiped her mouth with her napkin and seemed to consider an answer carefully. Finally she revealed, “I lived in Seattle with an aunt for a couple of years. But I was born in Portland and I always considered it my home.”

“She’s a friend of the family,” Carrie added casually. “We watch out for her.”

So they weren’t related. “You’re very good with Timothy,” Alan remarked. “I thought maybe Carrie had hired you to help out so you could earn extra money for college.”

The two women exchanged a look.

“I help out because we’re friends,” Lisa answered quietly.

There was an uncomfortable silence that Alan didn’t understand. Then Carrie focused her attention on Lisa. “Speaking of being friends, I have a favor to ask you.”

Lisa grinned. “Uh-oh. Let’s see. You want me to help with the spring charity auction.”

“Hmm, that would be great if you could, but that wasn’t what I had in mind right now. I’m in a pickle. My guest for Saturday canceled.”

Alan was aware that Carrie hosted a live Saturday morning talk show in the area. About Portland usually consisted of human interest stories or timely events.

“How can I help with that?” Lisa asked.

“I’d like you to come on and be my guest. You’re intelligent and well-spoken, and I’d like to talk about the opportunities available for young women in Portland who are fresh out of college, settling into the job market now. You’d be great to interview. What do you think?” Carrie was quick to add, “We’d be concentrating on your present job, what you’re doing at Summers Development, where you want your future and career to go.”

Was that relief he saw on Lisa’s face? What did she expect Carrie to interview her about?

“Sure, I can do that. I can even wear one of my new suits.”

“You say it’s this Saturday?” Brian asked his wife.

“Yes, why?”

“Because Lisa will be traveling to Texas with me and Alan next week. We might be gone the following Saturday. In fact, I was going to ask if you wanted to come along. Alan has room on the plane.”

“And there are plenty of guest rooms at the ranch,” Alan said encouragingly.

Carrie thought about it, then shook her head. “I’d have to miss the show. I promised Mom I’d take Timothy up to see her and Dad next week. In fact, if you’re going to be gone, I could just stay overnight. They’d love that. I think this time it’s better if I stay here.”

Alan made eye contact with Brian. “What she’s really saying is that she knows you’re going to be tied up working most of the time we’re gone, and that won’t be any fun.”

“A man who understands women’s subtext,” Carrie said with a laugh.

“I’ve learned a few things in thirty-eight years,” he replied.

Why had he stated his age? So that Lisa knew exactly how old he was? So that she realized they were from different generations? Whether there was chemistry between them or not, their age difference probably couldn’t be easily bridged.

Probably. Why was he even questioning it?

Lisa pushed her coffee away and laid her napkin on the table. “I’d better collect those things from the attic and load my car. It’s getting late and I have laundry to do tonight.”

Carrie frowned. “I don’t think everything’s going to fit in your car. What do you think, Brian?”

“I’ll stuff the rest of it in ours and follow her.”

“Where do you live?” Alan asked.

“On Chestnut.”

“My condo’s out that way. And I have an SUV with a back seat that folds down. Whatever doesn’t fit in your vehicle can go in mine. I don’t mind following you, and it will save Brian a trip.”

Alan wasn’t exactly sure why he’d offered. Maybe because he wanted to see her place…see if she was paying for it herself, or if it was much too nice for an office manager’s salary. Something told him she wasn’t exactly what she seemed. On the other hand, his sixth sense could just be on alert because she unsettled him.

“I don’t have to take everything tonight,” she said, a bit anxiously.

“I really don’t mind following you.” Alan checked his watch. “Besides, I should be going, too. There are some maps and statistics I’d like to go over this evening.”

“On the San Diego resort?” Brian asked with a smile.

“That’s the one.” Standing now, he said to Lisa, “Just point me to the attic.”

Forty-five minutes later, Lisa glanced in her rearview mirror, wishing she could get her life back under control. For the past three years she’d let Brian and Carrie help her, mainly by letting them put her through college, although she’d worked all she could for spending money, books, insurance and anything else she needed. They’d wanted to pay it all, but she’d already owed them way too much—they’d given her baby a home.

At school, she’d felt as if she were putting in time, preparing, but not really living the life she wanted to lead. With graduation, she’d felt on the verge of her future. Today, when she’d read the anonymous note, “You owe me, don’t think I’ve forgotten…”

Whom did she owe what to?

She’d intended to go home, rearrange some furniture and think, but now, with Alan Barrett following her…

This was her life and she made the decisions in it. If she didn’t want Alan to stay, she could ask him to leave. Simple, right?

No, not so simple. She had to work with him.

She practically groaned. Yesterday, her life had been easy, moving along its intended course. Today, she didn’t know what the next minute was going to bring.

Lisa drove down the tree-lined street of the old neighborhood, pulling up in front of a Victorian that had been divided into two apartments, one downstairs and one upstairs. She had the upper apartment. The rent was modest. Her kitchen linoleum had a crack, and she really should paint her bedroom. There was a stain on the ceiling from when the roof had leaked before she moved in. The grandmotherly lady who owned the property insisted the roof had definitely been fixed. The house brought in income for her, and her grandkids helped with the repairs. The past couple of weekends, Lisa had found a few furnishings and wall decorations at a public sale and at an antique fair. But she still had a way to go and she wasn’t keen on Alan seeing the apartment the way it was now.

What did it matter?

She hadn’t wanted to impress a man since she’d met Thad Preston during her senior year in high school. He’d been the football team’s quarterback, headed for the NFL. She’d learned the hard way that he’d intended to let nothing get in the way of that dream.

When she’d told him she was pregnant, he’d insisted she have an abortion. She could never have done that. And knowing that Aunt Edna would probably kick her out when she learned of the pregnancy, Lisa had saved her the trouble. She’d never wanted to live in Seattle, anyway…never liked Seattle. Portland was where she’d grown up, with parents who’d loved her. So that’s where she’d returned. She’d gotten a job waitressing, but her morning sickness had soon turned into all-day sickness, forcing her to cut back her hours. Working less, she couldn’t afford the room she’d rented. She was out on the streets. Craig, who had managed a local deli, often slipped food to her and her friend Ariel, who’d camped out in vacant buildings with her. He’d also supplied food while they were sleeping at the homeless shelter. But then one day, Lisa had passed out on the street, Ariel had called 911 and she’d been taken to the hospital. The Children’s Connection had gotten involved, and that had led to Carrie and Brian.

So who was sending her a threatening note?

Trying to clear her head so she could deal with Alan Barrett, she exited her car and motioned toward the back of the house. “Sorry, but I live upstairs. There’s a summer kitchen in the back. You could just unload everything in there.”

“And what? You’ll carry it up in the morning?”

“It’s just end tables and a coffee table, odds and ends.”

“You don’t like to let anyone do anything for you.” He sounded curious more than annoyed.

“If I can do something on my own, why should I ask for help?”

“You’re not the damsel in distress type?”

“Not if I can help it.”

At that, he laughed and, unfortunately, she liked the sound of it. His laughter was deep and rich, just like his voice. She might as well get this over with, and then he could be on his way, she decided.

They almost had a tug-of-war over the coffee table, the heaviest piece. But Alan was bigger and stronger. When he’d wrestled it from her, he smiled. “Give in, Lisa. Let me take the heavier pieces.”

Hands on her hips, she glared up at him. “Are you going to be difficult to work with on the golf resort project, too, Mr. Barrett?”

Holding the coffee table as if it weighed no more than his Stetson, he smiled at her. “It’s Alan. And as far as being difficult to work with, that depends on whether you let me have my way or not.”

“And I suppose you’re used to getting your own way?” she challenged.

“Not many people cross me.”

“Then maybe you’ve met your match.”

He eyed her thoroughly. “Maybe. Or maybe because we’re both determined and because we both know how to get the job done, we could work very well together.”

With a sigh and a shake of her head, she gave in. “Take the coffee table upstairs. I’ll grab one of the end tables.”

“Why don’t you just grab the magazine rack or the flower stand?”

“One thing you’re going to learn about me, Mr.—” At the lift of his brow, she stopped. “Alan…is that I pull my own weight.”

“Then go ahead and pull your own weight up there, and unlock the door. You can do that better if you’re not carrying anything too heavy.”

If she smiled, he’d know he’d won. She wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. Instead of the magazine rack or the flower stand, she picked up a floor lamp and hoisted it over her shoulder, then quickly moved ahead of him and hurried toward her apartment. She had to get rid of him. She had to stop reacting to his grin. She had to forget that his eyes were as blue as any sky she’d ever seen.

After several more trips, Lisa quickly positioned everything where she wanted it.

Alan glanced around appreciatively after it was all in place. “You have an eye for arranging furniture.”

“I just know where I want it.”

His gaze fell on the striped salmon-and-turquoise sofa, the Boston rocker, the mahogany tables and the Tiffany lamp. “You’re missing something.”

“I know. I need to get an area rug.”

“Oh, that’s not what I meant. You’re missing a big old recliner where someone could be really comfortable.”

She assessed him thoughtfully. “Do you have one of those?”

“Back in Texas I do. Here, none of the furniture’s quite broken in yet. The recliner has to be five years old to be comfortable.”

She couldn’t help but move closer to him. She couldn’t help but study his expression carefully. “A man like you keeps a five-year-old recliner?”

“I hold on to things I’m fond of. Just because I can buy anything I want, doesn’t mean I’d rather have new than aged. Sort of like that necklace you keep fingering. It doesn’t look brand-new, but it seems to mean a lot to you.”

She knew whenever she was nervous or uncertain, her locket was a talisman she touched to stay grounded. But she didn’t want Alan asking too many questions about it. She certainly wouldn’t open it for him.

“This was a gift from Carrie and it means a lot to me. It’s an antique. I guess I keep touching it to make sure its still there.”

“You’re a contradiction.”

“And that means…?”

“That means you like to act tough, but I think you’ve got a softer side.”

“You don’t know me.” She was sure if he did, he would want nothing to do with her.

“We’ll be remedying that soon. Working out of town and traveling together has a way of taking off the veneer pretty fast.”

The apartment had a quaint older-house smell, part plaster, part polished furniture, part lavender potpourri. But she was standing close enough to Alan to catch the scent of his cologne, to see the interest in his eyes, to feel a pull toward him that made her feel trembly inside.

“Do you live alone at your ranch in Texas?” She wondered what to expect when they got there.

“No, my brother lives there, and I have a housekeeper.”

“Does the ranch have a name?” If she didn’t keep talking, if she didn’t keep words between them, she was afraid something would happen that she’d regret.

“The Lazy B. My grandfather named it and started it on the road to success.”

“Why did you get involved in real estate? I mean, wasn’t the ranch enough?”

“In some ways, the ranch was too much,” he drawled. “I grew up there and learned the ropes as a kid. But I also learned it could engulf a man’s whole life. I wanted more than that. And since my brother was more inclined to want to handle it, I let him. Christina has always been interested in the horse breeding aspect. It wouldn’t surprise me if she wants to take that over someday.”

His daughter was merely four years younger than Lisa was. She shouldn’t be standing here like this with him, alone in her apartment. She didn’t know him. She shouldn’t even want to know him.

When she took a step back, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I know you said you have work to do tonight, and I don’t want to keep you.”

“You suddenly got very nervous on me, Lisa. What’s going through your head?”

Since they did have to work together, she wasn’t about to tell him. “Nothing you want to know about.”

“You mean like earlier today? When you got something in the mail and wouldn’t tell me why you were upset?”

“As I said, Alan, you don’t know me. Maybe you were wrong about my reaction. Maybe you were seeing something that wasn’t there.”

“Or maybe you’re trying to hide how disturbed you were by that piece of mail.”

She took a couple more steps back, knowing that this man saw entirely too much. “I think you’d better go.”

Cocking his head, he asked gently, “Are you afraid of me, Lisa?”

“Should I be?” Her question was almost belligerent. She needed to wrap defenses around herself, and that was the only one she could find.

“Hell, no. I like women. I respect them. And I think I can read the signals they give out pretty well.”

“I’m not giving out any signals.”

“You’re doing a terrific job of trying not to.” He shrugged. “As you said, we’re going to be working together. If we establish a friendship, that will be a lot easier.”

A friendship? Like she had with Craig? She doubted that. Everything about Alan shouted, I’m a powerful male and used to getting my own way. She had a habit of defying any man who tried to patronize her or wear a mantle of authority around her.

“Just think about it,” Alan suggested, as if whatever decision she came to didn’t matter to him at all. “I promise you, you’re safe around me, Lisa. After all, I have a daughter who’s only a few years younger than you.”

In plain English, he was telling her he was as aware of their age difference as she was. If there was an attraction between them, it wouldn’t go anywhere. There were simply too many complications.

He moved toward the door. As he opened it, he said, “Good luck with your interview on Saturday. Carrie invited me to stop and watch her work. I might just do that. Good night, Lisa.”

Then Alan Barrett was gone.

Touching her locket, rubbing her thumb over the engraved front of it, Lisa sank down onto the couch. She wasn’t keen to do this interview in the first place. Now, knowing he might be there…

She felt as if she had so many secrets to hide, she couldn’t keep the door shut on all of them. Somehow she had to. Alan’s opinion of her was already important to her, and that worried her most of all.

Chapter Three

“Do you know if it’s cool in Rocky Ridge, Texas this time of year?” Jillian Logan asked Lisa as they shopped in one of Portland’s department stores Friday evening.

Lisa plucked a burgundy plaid blouse from a rack and held it in front of her. “I looked it up on the Internet. It’s possible they can even get snow in February, so wearing long sleeves won’t be a problem.”

“Tell me again why you don’t want this Alan Barrett to see your tattoos?”

Jillian, who was twelve years older than Lisa, had become like a big sister since they’d gotten to know one another. Jillian was a social worker at the Children’s Connection, and Lisa had met her after she had given up Timothy for adoption. They’d clicked, and Jillian was one of the few people who knew Lisa’s whole story.

“I’ll be working with him,” Lisa replied. “He has to see me as a professional.”

“I think it’s more than that. You don’t want him to ask any questions.”

Sensitive and caring, Jillian was insightful, too…at least about everyone else. Jillian and her twin brother David had been abandoned by their drug-addicted mother and left in the care of their grandmother, a stroke victim who was barely able to care for them. Thanks to the support and love of the Logans, Jillian and David had survived and thrived. But Jillian was shy in her personal life. She could fight for a client, no holds barred, but when it came to herself and men, she lacked confidence.

“I don’t want any questions,” Lisa admitted. “It seems Alan has been working with Brian a lot.”

“Alan, is it?” Jillian asked with a sly smile.

Not much flustered Lisa, but Alan Barrett did—even a simple discussion about him.

“I don’t believe it.” Jillian’s smile was wide. “You’re blushing!”

Embarrassed, Lisa returned the blouse to the rack. “No, I’m not. It’s just hot in here.”

Jillian’s brown eyes were kind as she tapped her friend’s shoulder. “What’s going on?”

With a huge sigh, Lisa answered honestly, “He ties me in knots. Do you know what I mean?”

“Uh-oh. How much time have you spent with him?”

“Not very much. I sat in on a meeting with him in Brian’s office and had dinner with him at Brian and Carrie’s. When we go on this trip to Texas, I’ll be with him every day for three or four days. What am I going to do? I don’t want him to see how he affects me. I have to be all business.”

“Do you?”

“What do you mean?”

Her friend eyed her assessingly. “There’s a reason he’s tying you in knots. A nonbusiness reason. Why does he unsettle you?”

“If I knew, I could stop it from happening,” Lisa grumbled.

Jillian gave her a penetrating look.

“Okay, let me think about it. He’s got the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. He’s tall and broad shouldered and makes me feel protected, which is crazy, because I’ve only been around him about two minutes. He’s got this deep voice that just kind of seeps under my skin, and a Texas accent that for some reason makes my heart beat faster. On the other hand, he’s much older than I am. Before you start analyzing and telling me I’m looking for a father figure, forget it, because when I look at him—”

“How much older?” Jillian asked, cutting right to the chase.

“Seventeen years older.”

Her friend whistled through her teeth. “Lisa…”

“We started out on the wrong foot,” Lisa admitted. “He had this authority thing going on and was determined he could do whatever he wanted. But I stopped him cold.”

“Yeah, I would imagine that. You and authority figures don’t mesh well.”

“But then he helped me carry some furniture up to my apartment and that authority thing wasn’t part of it at all. I mean, when I’m around him, I don’t even think about him being older.”

“You’d better watch your step.”

“Nothing’s going to happen, Jillian. You know me.” She lowered her voice. “I haven’t even been with anyone since Thad. I mean, I don’t know if I’d even remember what to do.”

Jillian rolled her eyes. “I think it would all come back.”

Lisa shook her head vehemently. “I don’t want it to come back. I don’t want to get involved with anyone.”

“I’m not sure that’s true,” her friend said. “You want to get involved but you’re afraid if you do, the man will walk away and you’ll have to deal with abandonment again. You’ve been abandoned a lot.”

Yes, she had—by her parents when they died, by her aunt when she didn’t want her, by Thad, who hadn’t really cared about her at all. Thinking of him made Lisa remember the note. Thinking about the note made anxiety turn in her stomach. She could confide in Jillian, she supposed, but something made her keep the letter to herself. As long as she didn’t tell anyone about it, it didn’t seem real.

Taking a deep breath, willfully lightening her mood, she asked Jillian, “Are you giving me a free counseling session?”

“If you need one.”

“I don’t. Alan is Brian’s colleague and just somebody I have to work with on this project. We’ll both be professional and when we’re at his ranch in Texas, Brian will be a great chaperone. I have nothing to worry about.”

“Repeat it a thousand more times, and I might believe it.”

If she repeated it a thousand more times, she might believe it herself, Lisa thought. She pointed to a light blue and white striped shirt with embroidery on the pockets. Going to the display rack, she found her size and held it up. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re trying to concentrate on details so you don’t have to think about the trip itself.”

Sometimes Lisa wished Jillian wasn’t quite so perceptive. But if she needed to think about the details to alleviate some of her anxiety, that was exactly what she was going to do.

“My career is everything to me now,” Lisa told Carrie during their TV interview on Saturday morning.

Carrie had spent the last twenty minutes going over Lisa’s degree, future goals and the opportunities in Portland for young professionals. In her charming way, she had kept the interview questions nonpersonal but interesting, so Lisa could give information to young people making decisions about college.

Now, however, her voice warmed into a teasing quality. “Everything?” she asked with a smile. “A beautiful young woman like yourself makes time for dating, I imagine. Are there opportunities for young professionals to meet in Portland?”

Lisa felt heat come into her cheeks. “There are clubs and organizations.” She realized Carrie had to give the viewers something a little more personal than her career to pique their interest. But she had to admit dating wasn’t on her agenda, even though Carrie thought it should be. “I really don’t date. There just doesn’t seem to be time in my schedule. Some evenings I get home late, weekends I catch up on chores and spend time with family and friends.”

“I imagine the station might get a few e-mails from young men who are interested in you. What would you say to them?”

“I’d say my focus is on building my future and the future of the family I’d like to have someday. I don’t have time for romantic entanglements right now. I’m operating on the belief that I’m self-sufficient. I have my own apartment, pay my own bills, pay my own way. The truth is, I don’t really want a man complicating my life.”

“In other words, you want to be financially stable before you enter into a partnership with anyone.”

“Exactly,” Lisa agreed. “I don’t want any of my decisions to be impulsive ones, but well thought out. That way, they won’t land me in trouble.” Again, she thought, determined not to make the same mistake she’d made before. When she was a high school senior she’d needed someone to love, and she’d needed someone to love her. Only Thad hadn’t loved her, he’d used her.

She wouldn’t fall into that trap again.

“It’s been a pleasure interviewing you, Lisa,” Carrie said, meaning it. “You’ve given young women goals to aspire to. Thank you for agreeing to be on About Portland.”

Then the camera focused on Carrie, and Lisa could finally relax. Carrie had danced on the edge of the personal, but taken care not to ask questions that would reveal anything Lisa preferred to keep to herself.

After Carrie signed off, she stood and removed her microphone. Lisa did the same and set it on the chair where she’d sat. The bright lights that had blinded her suddenly blinked off.

A male voice came from the side of the room—a deep male voice Lisa was beginning to know all too well.

“Great job, Miss Sanders.” Although he’d called her by her first name a few times, he obviously felt the need for more formality today. As he approached the stage, his rugged good looks practically bowled her over, and she felt that pull of attraction again.

“Alan! I’m glad you dropped by,” Carrie said. “What did you think of the interview?”

His gaze stayed on Lisa as he answered, “I picked up some pointers for Christina. After all, if I’m going to spend more time in Portland, she might want to consider getting a job in this area after college.”

“So you’re really going to establish roots here?” Carrie asked.

Finally he broke eye contact. “It seems that way. I suppose it depends on the market, but the development deals Brian and I are making will last for many years. Have you two ladies had breakfast? I’d be glad to treat.”

“That would be wonderful,” Carrie responded with a smile. “Lisa and I are going to run errands, but we can take a little time for breakfast, right?”

As Carrie checked with her, Lisa knew she couldn’t nix the idea. This man was Brian’s colleague. And Carrie was only doing her part to help Brian. “Right,” she answered brightly.

No sense trying to wiggle out of breakfast. She could keep herself removed. She could pretend that Alan was just a business client who had to be entertained for half an hour.

“I have to go to the dressing room and pick up a few things I left there,” Carrie stated. “Anything I can gather up for you?”

Lisa’s purse was lying to the side of the stage under a coat she’d tossed over a chair. “No, I’m fine.”

“I’ll be right back.” Carrie flashed another one of those smiles that could bring any man to his knees. The thing was, she didn’t seem to care how beautiful she was, or that lots of men looked at her with longing. She only cared about how Brian looked at her. Lisa loved that about her.

To Lisa’s surprise, Alan’s gaze was back on her rather than on Carrie walking away. “So real estate really is where you want to build your future?”

Had he thought she’d been kidding, merely using this job with Brian as a stepping stone? In a way she was. “I want to get experience with Brian, but I have another goal, too, and because of that I’ll probably leave Summers Development eventually. I’d like to hook up with a contractor to develop communities for families. There are several in California that are great models.”

“You mean planned communities?”

“Yes. A real neighborhood, where people know each other, where there’s a park with a playground for kids to play, where the school is close enough to walk to. I don’t want to create an exclusive neighborhood with gates and security men, but a place where everyone watches out for everyone else.”

“That has a lot more to do with people than the land they’re building houses on,” he said with understanding.

“Maybe. But I think with the right public relations, with the right focus, we’ll draw in buyers who want that kind of neighborhood. I don’t care if I get rich doing it. I just want to make a difference.” As soon as those words were out of her mouth, she knew Alan could take them as an insult. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being rich,” she amended quickly.

Instead of being insulted, he laughed, and she could feel the pleasure of the sound down to the tips of her high-heeled shoes.

“Do you always say exactly what you’re feeling?” he asked with curiosity, a smile still on his lips…very nice male lips. Today he was dressed in gray, stone-washed jeans and a navy-blue sweater. A hint of blond chest hair peeked out of his V-neck.

Lisa felt that hot tingly feeling rolling through her again. “Usually. I think it’s important for people to know where I stand. So there’s no misunderstanding. Misunderstandings are inevitable, but honesty helps.”

“And you really don’t date? That man who took you to lunch looked very friendly.”

“That’s because we are friends.”

Now Alan’s voice turned from amused to serious. “What turned you off men?”

“I’m not turned off men. I’m just focused on my career.”

He gave her a long look.

“Really, Mr. Barrett. I’m just very focused.”

“It’s Alan, remember? And do you mind if I call you Lisa?”

“No, I don’t mind,” she said softly.

As they gazed at each other for a few moments, Lisa felt the rest of the world falling away. Her knees seemed a little wobbly and she wondered if someone had sucked all the oxygen out of the room.

“This community you want to build. Would you like to do that in California?”

His question brought her back to reality. “Oh, no.” She thought about Timothy and Carrie and Brian. “I don’t intend to leave Portland. I have close friends here.”

“I would have thought a career woman on the move would relocate in order to further her ambition.”

“I was born and raised in Portland, and Portland is where I want to stay. Maybe fifteen years from now I’ll consider branching out.”

“Why fifteen?”

Lisa knew she’d just made a huge mistake. In her mind, she thought about when Timothy would be eighteen and going off to college. And if college wasn’t what he wanted, he might travel or move someplace else. Fifteen years from now, she still wanted to be his friend. Long before then, she hoped, he’d know she was his mother. She’d go wherever was necessary to maintain contact.

“Fifteen years seems reasonable to accomplish what I want to do here,” she ad-libbed.

But Alan seemed to be a perceptive man, and the look he gave her said he knew she was hiding something, or if not hiding it, guarding her privacy all too well. Well, he’d just have to wonder. She didn’t discuss her past with anyone unless they’d lived it with her. She didn’t want to revisit it, although it was always right behind her. When she thought about the threatening note she’d received, she wanted to blank it all out, and that’s exactly what she was going to do, for as long as she could.

Alan Barrett didn’t need to know anything more about her in order to work with her. And that’s all they were going to do—work together.

Alan pushed open the heavy door to the Goal Post, an out-of-the-way pub in Portland. The early February rain had pelted his windshield on his drive over. He was glad to escape from the dampness into the bar, which boasted a real fireplace. Brian had introduced him to the Goal Post after one of their first successful deals. Now Alan had named it as a meeting place for him and an old college buddy, Gil Reynolds. He and Gil had gotten together last fall after Alan had started spending a lot of time in Portland, but since then, they’d both been too busy to connect.

Alan spotted Gil at a bleacher-style booth, not far from the fireplace. As he approached, Gil grinned. His dark brown hair looked damp, and his black eyes looked as sharp and calculating as they had when they’d been housemates off campus at the University of Oregon.

Alan slid onto the hard wooden seat across from Gil. “It’s good to see you, finally. How have you been?”

“Busy, the same as you. You know the newspaper business.”

Gil was an editor at the Portland Gazette. “Real estate and news,” Alan commented. “I guess we’re both in careers that never let up.”

“That’s the truth. Not only do they never let up, but to sell papers I have to keep coming up with bigger stories. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I think I do. Clients aren’t any easier to please these days than advertisers or subscribers. And as we both know, bigger isn’t always better.”

When the waitress came to their table, they both ordered beer on tap.

“So how’s Christina?” Gil asked. “Is she enjoying her last year of high school? Are you ready for her to fly off on her own?”

“She’s loving her last year, and, no, I’m not ready for her to leave. To tell you the truth, I can’t quite imagine her not being at the ranch on weekends. I can’t imagine her only coming home on holidays. I can’t imagine worrying because she’s not with her mother and she’s not with me and God knows what she is doing.”

“I thought you said Christina has a level head.”

“She does, usually, but put her at college with all that freedom, with new friends, with guys who want to take advantage of her, and I think I’d rather lock her in her room for a couple of more years.”

Gil laughed. “You are the definition of a protective father. How does she put up with you?”

“I try to hide my protective streak when she’s around.”

“I don’t think you fool her for a minute. And how’s Sherri?”

“Sherri is Sherri,” Alan said with a shrug. “She flits from one new project to another. She’s on a committee to beautify the roads and historic buildings in Rocky Ridge. Her new hobby is making jewelry out of glass beads, and she’s thinking about staying on as the cheerleading coach even after Christina graduates. From what Christina tells me, she has a new boyfriend. This one is a stockbroker.”

“Is it serious?”

“You expect me to know that?”

“You and Sherri talk.”

“About Christina, not about our personal lives.”

“Do you have a personal life?” Gil asked, with the interest of a longtime friend.

In spite of himself, Alan thought of Lisa. “I don’t have time for one.”

“As the most eligible bachelor in Rocky Ridge, you might have dated every single woman there. But now that you’ve come to Portland, you have a whole new dating pool. Every man needs a little recreation.”

For a certain number of years after his divorce, Alan and Gil had had the same mind-set about dating. Women could relieve the pressure of a heavy workload, while providing entertainment, companionship and physical satisfaction. But over the past few years, Alan had found that seeing women in that light, not attempting to find anything deeper, had left him empty, restless and feeling more alone than he had after his divorce. So instead of putting his energy into being charming and attentive to a woman for an evening, he’d discovered he’d found more enjoyment in traveling someplace he’d never been, going white-water rafting or simply riding his favorite horse until the wind blew the cobwebs from his head.

“I’m not interested in Portland’s dating pool.” Nevertheless, he thought again of Lisa—how poised she was, how frank, how the camera had seemed to love her face during her interview. Once more, he pushed her from his mind.

“Are you seeing anybody regularly?” he asked Gil.

“That all depends on what you mean by regularly.”

“You know, the same woman one weekend after another for more than a month.”

Instead of the sardonic smile Gil was so good at, he frowned and moved the saltshaker back and forth on the table. “I don’t know, Alan. I start liking a woman. We have fun together. We have a good time in bed. Then something happens. Suddenly we’re not just dating. We’re a couple and then I hear things like, ‘Maybe you could stay overnight more often, maybe I could stay with you more often, why don’t you give me a key, why don’t we move in together, you should meet my parents, I should meet yours, have you thought about having a family?’”

“In other words, the woman wants more.”

“Yeah, that’s right. The woman wants more. I don’t. Some days I go into work at six and I don’t get home until ten, twelve, two. I’ve got a career and it’s damn demanding. My personal life has always come second, but a woman never wants to hear that.”

“Tell me something, Gil. Is your career just a ready excuse not to get involved with anybody?”

“You tell me. Don’t you do the same thing?”

“Not anymore. As I said, I’m not even looking at the dating pool. I’ve found other ways to enjoy life. But you like parties. You like going clubbing.”

The waitress brought them mugs of beer and Gil raised his to Alan. “You’re right. I do. I like having fun.”

“That’s why you shut down and make an exit when a woman wants more?”

Gil’s eyes narrowed and he lifted his mug. “Uh-oh. We’re getting way too deep here. Maybe you’re asking me all these questions because you’re looking for answers yourself.”

Was he looking for answers to the void in his life that would yawn wide open when Christina went to college? Why hadn’t he gotten involved with anyone seriously since his divorce? Why had meeting Lisa Sanders shaken him up in a way he didn’t understand at all?

“One more question, then we can move on to how the Mariners are going to do this year,” Alan promised.

Gil took a few swallows of beer, then set down his mug. “Shoot. But I reserve the right to remain silent.”

“Have you ever dated a younger woman?”

Gil smiled. “How much younger?”

“I don’t know, maybe ten, twelve, fifteen years younger.”

“I’ve dated a few women in their mid-twenties, but we seemed to run out of things to say. Our reference points were different. Do you know what I mean?”

Alan understood what Gil was saying, yet when he talked with Lisa, he didn’t feel any of that.

“Are you thinking about dating someone younger?” Gil asked.

Now wasn’t that a million dollar question. Alan lifted his mug, too. “I was just hypothesizing.”

“You don’t hypothesize. You act. You’re a doer, not a ponderer. So if there’s a younger woman who’s making you ponder, you could be in big trouble already.”

Gil was an intelligent man and thought of himself as a cynical reporter feeding the public’s right to know. He had a sixth sense about a good story and could be perceptive about everybody but himself. This time Alan hoped Gil’s insight into what was going on with him was all wrong.

But the devil on Alan’s shoulder told him his friend was on the money once again.

Chapter Four

“Brian left about a half hour ago, Alan.”

Lisa kept her voice completely professional as they spoke over the phone late Monday afternoon. On Saturday, during breakfast with Alan after her interview, she’d let Carrie lead the conversation. However, her gaze had locked with his too many times and her heart had beat much too fast whenever he’d spoken to her…whenever she’d spoken to him.

“I was hoping I could catch him before he left.” Frustration edged Alan’s tone. “I have the schematics he wanted for that San Diego resort. I suppose I could have them messengered to his house.”

“No! I mean,” she added quickly, “I can come over and pick them up.”

She had to convince Alan not to interrupt Brian tonight. Brian had shown her the flowers he’d picked up at lunchtime to take home to Carrie, a dozen long-stemmed red roses. Since they were leaving Wednesday for the trip to Texas, and tomorrow night would be busy with last minute preparations, Lisa suspected he and Carrie were going to have some quality time tonight after Timothy went to bed. If they were interrupted by a messenger service, their evening could be ruined. She had a key to the house. She could pick up the materials from Alan and drop them off without Brian and Carrie even noticing. She’d leave them in Brian’s office with a note and slip out again before they even knew she had been there.

“I hate to take you out of your way. If I can’t find a service to do this tonight, I could drive them over to Brian myself,” Alan offered.

“Aren’t you working on the presentation for the investors?”

“Did Brian tell you that?”

“He gave me a schedule of our meetings with clients, what he was covering and what you’re covering. I know you’re busy. My evening’s free. I really don’t mind stopping by. Just give me directions and tell me exactly where you live.”

After a brief hesitation, Alan did just that.

A half hour later, the security guard at Alan’s building showed Lisa to a private elevator that went directly to the penthouse floor. Alan had apparently given the man her name and told him she’d be arriving within the hour.

The elevator was smooth and speedy, rushing her to the seventh floor in a matter of seconds. When the doors parted, she stepped out into a hallway with plush wine carpeting. The paintings that hung along the corridor were watercolors of ranch scenes.

When she stopped before one and studied it, she saw Christina Barrett’s signature in the corner. Obviously Alan was proud of everything his daughter did.

Lisa had almost reached the paneled mahogany door of the penthouse when it opened and he stood there, looking like neither a businessman nor a Texas rancher. Dressed in khakis and a long-sleeved, black Henley shirt, his rough-hewn face shadowed by a beard line, he looked too sexy for words and not altogether glad to see her. His blue eyes assessed her. She knew he couldn’t see much, because she’d buttoned and belted her coat against the inclement weather.

“Didn’t you park in the garage?”

“I found a spot across the street and just dashed over. I’m not fond of parking garages. They make me feel claustrophobic.”

“That surprises me. You give the impression you’re not afraid of anything.”

“I didn’t say I was afraid of parking garages. I just prefer not to park in them.”

He held up a staying hand. “I shouldn’t have made the observation. I don’t really know you. I’ve just gotten a few impressions.”

She’d gotten a few impressions of her own. Alan, for all his charming Texas manners, was a bit of a loner. How she knew that she wasn’t sure. Maybe he was different around family. Maybe his daughter knew the real man underneath. But Lisa didn’t suppose many people did.

He motioned her inside. “If you want to warm up a bit before you dash back out there, I have a fresh pot of coffee brewing.”

Having coffee with Alan—in his apartment, no less—wasn’t a good idea. Coming here had been a bad idea. Still, she looked around with interest. “No, I’ll just pick up whatever you want Brian to look at, then I’ll be going.”

Alan’s condo was a showplace. The same rich carpeting from the hall covered the living room. A navy leather couch and huge recliner were arranged across from a high-tech entertainment center, plasma screen TV, stereo system, CD player. Other electronic gadgets sat on the shelves—an iPod and an Xbox, along with a rack of CDs. The buttered plaster walls were devoid of art. She could see into the dining room with its shiny mahogany table that looked as if it had never been used. Alan might stay here when he was in Portland, but he didn’t really live here. It was too uncluttered, too clean, too polished.

He went to the library table along one wall and picked up a cardboard tube. Handing it to her, he asked, “What’s the real reason you wanted to pick these up?”

His perception amazed her. She’d found most men accepted simple explanations and didn’t look much deeper. But she was discovering that Alan wasn’t like most men.