Falling for the Texas Tycoon. Karen Rose SmithЧитать онлайн книгу.
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