One Texas Night...

The night had been magical. Her brother had once told her that he didn’t want his best friend around her. Though Jared was a great friend to Sloan, where women were concerned, Jared was totally unreliable. Sloan had described him as a playboy, a man who lived life on the edge, who liked mountain climbing, bull riding, white-water rafting, wild adventures and beautiful women.

At eighteen, when she had looked into Jared’s vivid green eyes, she had been as drawn to him as a moth to flames. Exuding self-confidence, he had flirted, made her pulse race, and when he had kissed her, she had melted. No other kisses had been like his.

But the next morning, along with daylight, common sense set in. She couldn’t get involved with a heartbreaker like Jared. She was just a college freshman. Her life was simple, safe and ordinary, and she wanted to keep it that way. Jared, on the other hand, was a risk taker. She never again wanted to go through getting the news that someone she loved deeply had been killed taking a risk. Like her mother, who had flown her small plane through a Gulf storm, killing herself and Chad in the crash. Allison never wanted to experience that kind of needless hurt again.

And there was Sloan. She suspected if Sloan knew about her night with Jared, it would end their long, close friendship. All she could do, then, was get Jared to agree they would not see each other again and the night had never happened.

She had since tried to forget him. It had been a struggle to forget someone as dynamic as Jared Weston. That night she had tossed her usual caution aside because he had been too handsome, too appealing, too exciting.

Now she was older and wiser, and she still felt Jared was a man to avoid. Currently she felt responsible for her dad, and she didn’t want to cause him worry. In addition she had a running undercurrent of anger. Jared had tried to buy Tyler Antiques and Appraisals after her dad’s heart attack. When her dad had refused to sell, Jared had bought another appraisal company and then approached her dad once more, wanting to merge the two, leaving her dad in charge of his part. Her dad loved his business that he had built, and he did not want to sell. Jared had said the offer would remain on the table. Her father never mentioned it again, and she hoped Jared was not now attempting to get their company.

In minutes, she forgot business when her thoughts returned to that night with Jared. How tempting would he be to her now? She suspected very tempting, because she had never been able to forget him. How appealing he was would not matter. He was still off-limits. Sloan had already told her that Jared was about to become engaged. That should keep distance between them.

She had arrived the previous day at the sprawling mansion in Houston. With very little landscaping, the gray three-story Gothic had a cold palatial appearance with medieval turrets, parapets and arched windows, and she could see why Jared intended to sell it. She couldn’t imagine living in a home the size of the mansion, much less one so forbidding in appearance.

Jared had not arrived yet, and the housekeeper, Mrs. Tarkington, as well as the cook, who introduced herself only as Marline, were uncertain about exactly when he would arrive. Allison did not need Jared present to start an inventory of the art and furnishings. All she felt was relief that he was not here. By noon the first day, she had inventoried and tagged six rooms of furniture, sending brief descriptions and pictures to her father. She’d begun with the bedrooms so that they’d be done and she wouldn’t have to deal with Jared in a bedroom—even if they were only remotely polite to each other. But she still had more bedrooms to complete, even after this one.

She paused in front of an ornate gilt-framed mirror to look at her image. It had been six years since she had seen Jared. How much would he think she had changed? How well did he remember that night? In six years she was certain it had been over and forgotten long ago for him. She took a critical study of her appearance: black slacks, a black cotton shirt, her hair secured on her head with a clip. Several blond tendrils had fallen around her face. She tucked them away and continued her inventory of antiques, moving to an upstairs sitting room.

In minutes a light knocking caught her attention and she turned. Looking as commanding and self-assured as she remembered, Jared stood in the doorway, leaning with one shoulder against the jamb. Her heart missed several beats as he smiled. Locks of wavy black hair framed his face. His spellbinding green eyes had not been an exaggeration of her memory. Six years ceased to exist. It could have been this past Saturday night that they had been together as far as her clarity of memory was concerned. A heart-pounding, unforgettable night of seduction. She thought her memories of him had dimmed, but she had simply fooled herself.

Her pulse raced and her physical reaction to him was far more intense than she had expected. Something she couldn’t keep from happening. Dressed in a navy suit and matching tie and Western boots, he was breathtaking. She had a flashback, an instant memory of being naked in his arms, flush against his hard, muscled body.

“So how’s it been for six years?” he asked, coming into the room.

She was thankful he couldn’t detect her racing pulse. To her chagrin, her memory triggered heat that flushed her face. She hoped to look relaxed, to keep hidden all indications of her racing heartbeat.

“It’s been busy, and I’m sure you can say the same. It’s warm in here,” she said, in an effort to explain her cheeks that had to be pink, because she could feel their warmth.

“I agree,” he said in a huskier voice than she remembered, and she realized the next few days of working with him were going to be far more of a strain than she had anticipated.

Strain or temptation? a small inner voice taunted.

“I’ll shed this jacket,” he said, shrugging it off and draping it on a chair. His tie followed, and he unfastened the top buttons of his snow-white shirt. Her insides tightened. She could imagine him peeling away the shirt. He turned to face her again.

Reaching out, he caught her left hand and turned it in his. “I don’t see an engagement ring. Sloan said you’d be engaged.”

She laughed, relaxing slightly. “My dragon brother, who thinks he is protecting me, still sees you as the wild man. No, I’m not engaged,” she replied, catching a flicker in the depths of his green eyes. She was amused and annoyed slightly with her brother, but not surprised. Attempting to focus on their conversation, she tried to ignore the warmth of Jared’s hand, his thumb lightly brushing back and forth over her knuckles. A faint touch, yet scalding. She had all the compelling reactions to him that she’d had that first night, now more disturbing because of the hours of passion with him. “Sloan is still protective even though I’m twenty-four and capable of taking care of myself.”

“I think I’m the one Sloan is trying to manipulate here,” Jared replied. “He still wants me to keep away.”

“He said you’re almost engaged.”

Jared’s perfect white teeth flashed in a grin, while he shook his head. “Your rascal brother. No, I’m not about to become engaged. Not even close.”

“I should have guessed,” she said. She knew she should get them back to a professional discussion, but she was too tempted to flirt with him as she had that magical night. She forced herself to withdraw her hand from Jared’s. “This mansion is filled with treasures.”

“Take a break and let’s get a cool drink and talk about what I would like your company to do.”

Was there a streak of disappointment that he was also being professional? “Of course,” she said as she nodded. She would get directions, and then he could stay out of her way. She would tag the things to sell and get ready to list them in a brochure for their clients. With her father doing the research, she should be able to get a complete inventory in two to three weeks at a maximum.

“Sure. It’s better I hear the directions from you rather than from my dad secondhand.”

“You could have called me,” he said lightly, startling her for an instant until she realized he was referring to the directions.

“I figured I would see you here and could get the info. Why did you hire my dad when you have your own company now?” she asked bluntly.

“Your dad is the best. I’m happy to have my own company, and it’s good, but your dad is the best I’ve ever worked with.”

“Thank you. I think so, too,” she replied coolly, thinking about Jared’s desire to buy her father’s company. “Dad loves the business, and he intends to keep running it as long as his health holds.”

“That’s great. So what’s happened in the years between?” he asked again as they strolled down a wide hall filled with statues and oil paintings in ornate frames. The mansion was beautiful, but silent and empty of life, reminding her of a museum.

“I graduated from college, did an internship at a museum and then was hired by a different museum. After a year I went to work with Dad, and last year he had a heart attack. He was told to sell the business, something he didn’t want to do in spite of your offer. So I took over the fieldwork and let Dad stay in the office.”

“Sorry to hear all that. Your dad is good at what he does. I liked working with him.”

“It’s mutual. And so far, it’s working out well,” she said, aware of Jared close beside her as they descended the wide front stairs to the main hall. “What have you done in the intervening years?”

“More of the same—what I was doing when we met. I have Weston Energy that I took over after my dad died and a few other smaller businesses that I’ve bought. Plus I follow my interests.”

“Sorry about you losing your dad. He would be very proud of you now, because Weston Energy has become a lot larger since you took over,” she said, knowing the company had been small all the years his dad had ran it, but when Jared had stepped in at his father’s death, it had grown swiftly into a huge conglomerate. “With your dad gone, that leaves you alone, doesn’t it?”

“I have three aunts. Mom died two years before Dad. She had a heart problem. Otherwise I’m it now.”

“So you inherited this mansion from the Delaney family.”

“Yes. My father and Argus Delaney started out together as roughnecks in the oil patch. Both were successful. Dad died before Argus, but Argus already had him in his will. He was always grateful to my dad. I heard Mr. Delaney tell the story a dozen times about how my father saved his life in a well fire. This mansion was to go to my dad, but since he is deceased, it’s mine now.”

“The whole place is filled with beautiful things, very old, I imagine some very rare,” she said, following the conversation but still more conscious of him beside her, close enough she could detect a hint of his aftershave. The work would be easy once he departed, but being near him was even more disturbing than she had thought it would be.

“I don’t want them all. Some I like and will keep. As for the others—I don’t know which are valuable and which are merely nice, but of little lasting worth. That’s partially why you’re here,” he said.

“Dad and I will inventory the contents. I’m taking pictures of everything for the catalog that will show what you want to sell. You’ll see it first, of course, and you can let me know what you want to keep.”

“I have a better idea,” he said, leading her to a terrace where he motioned her to an outdoor kitchen and dining area. “I’ll go around the place with you and we can talk about what I like, what’s extremely old and valuable, that sort of thing.”

“That may make this inventory process take longer,” she said, contemplating the hazards of working constantly with him.

One dark eyebrow arched. “You can’t do that?”

“Of course I can. I’m just telling you,” she said, trying to sound matter-of-fact despite her alarming pulse rate. The thought of having him beside her constantly for the next two weeks or more was way too appealing.

His gaze became intense. “You don’t want to work with me?”

“We can work together. I’m just telling you the job may take a little longer that way.”

“That’s all right. If I’m here to tell you what I like, we won’t have misunderstandings. Now we’ve got that settled, what would you like? Iced tea? Coffee? Soda pop?”

“Tea is fine,” she said, perching on a bar stool to watch him get two tall glasses of iced tea. “I can see why you wouldn’t want to keep this palatial mansion. Do the Delaney heirs mind that you inherited it?”

“I’m closest with Ryan Delaney, and he’s assured me that they don’t at all. They inherited enough themselves that they’re happy, and Ryan said none of them ever spent time at this place, so it holds no sentimental value for them. His dad got this mansion in a business deal. The previous owners settled a debt by deeding him this place. I’m the fortunate one,” he said, his thickly lashed green eyes making it difficult to pay attention to what he was telling her.

“There are some things I like, and some I’m uncertain about. I’ll show you pictures of my two houses, and you tell me what you think will fit in and look nice. Otherwise I want to sell the mansion and everything inside it. I’ve told the Delaneys to come get what they want first, but they’ve all indicated they’ll pass.”

“Then they really don’t want any of this,” she said.

“No, Ryan said they don’t. I plan to sell the furnishings and art separately from the mansion because I think you and your dad can get me a better deal.”

“I’m glad you made that decision,” she said lightly.

“I like some of the old furniture, like the beds in your room and mine.”

“I haven’t seen yours, but the one in my suite is solid oak and so well preserved. I’m guessing eighteenth-century France,” she said. “I’ve done most of the bedrooms, but I still have four to go.”

“I’ll show you mine anytime you want to see it,” he said with a faint smile.

“That’s an offer I’ll keep in mind,” she couldn’t resist answering, remembering what fun it was to flirt with him. “I’ll work downstairs for now,” she added, trying to get back to a professional level.

“Anytime. I’m always available.”

“I can imagine.” She suspected he did remember that night when she had been eighteen.

“Shall we?” He motioned toward an adjoining sunroom that overlooked the lit veranda and pool area. As she sat, he pulled his chair close to hers to sit beside her, getting out his phone. “Here is my Dallas home,” he said, leaning closer so she could view the picture on his cell phone with him.

“Your Dallas mansion looks as large as this place, if not larger,” she said, aware again of their shoulders and arms touching. She looked up to meet his gaze as he flipped to another picture.

“Might be. It’s what I like, so I don’t view it as huge. It’s more appealing to me than this place. This one has a cold, remote look to it.” He switched to the next picture. “Here are the rooms.”

She agreed about the cold appearance of the gray mansion, but she didn’t mention it. They went through some pictures of rooms in his Dallas home, and then he switched to pictures of a lavish ranch home in Wyoming.

“I think the best I can do for you is get everything inventoried and perhaps make some suggestions. I’m not an interior decorator, but I can try at least. I’ll need pictures of these rooms to study more thoroughly.”

“Sure. Now I’d like to go through the house with you and tell you which things I like and what I want to keep. Actually, what I’d really like to do—”

Smiling, she bent forward quickly to place her forefinger lightly on his lips to silence him. The instant she touched him, she removed her finger as a current sizzled to her toes. It had been a mistake to touch his mouth, but she couldn’t take it back.

“So would I, but it would be unprofessional and not the smart thing to do. Let’s stick to business,” she said breathlessly, lost again while looking into his eyes and besieged by memories.

Looking amused, he nodded. “Maybe I don’t have on my mind what you think I do,” he said.

“Maybe not, but just in case you do, prevention is better.”

He grinned. “We can have fun.”

“Stick to business,” she said, wishing she could sound positive and forceful.

“You’re all grown up. No flirty college girl now.”

“I’m trying not to be,” she answered, thinking that was the last thing she needed, if she was to work with him the next several days. “So we’ll stick to getting items you want to sell separated from the ones you want to keep and get all the contents cataloged. We can start as soon as you want.”

“Start which?” he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

“C’mon, Jared. Let’s stick to business.”

“All right. I guess that’s the wisest course for both of us, but it’s definitely not the most exciting or the most fun.”

She couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed that he had stopped flirting with her. She wondered whether they would be together constantly. The whole prospect of this job had changed, turning everything topsy-turvy, with work becoming a secondary consideration.

“Perhaps we should start now,” she said, smiling at him and taking a long drink of tea. She set down the glass and stood. “I’ll work downstairs this afternoon,” she said, wanting to avoid the bedrooms anytime he was around.

“Sure.” He rose to walk with her. One of the front rooms was a library, where he stopped in front of the painting nearest the door. “Here’s something I want. I think this can go in the Wyoming ranch house.”

She looked at the oil painting of a mountain stream with horses nearby. “You’re not a contemporary fan. You like the traditional. That’s a marvelous painting,” she said, making more notes. While she placed a small sticker on the back of the painting, Jared strolled slowly around the room.

“I like that table,” he stated, pointing to a Queen Anne–style mahogany table.

“Again a good choice in my opinion, but I love the sort of art and furniture here,” she stated, making her notes and tagging the underside of the table.

He rolled back his sleeves, and they worked together. She took pictures and narrated descriptions, which Jared typed into her iPad. As they moved around, Jared told her what he wanted. When they finished the library, they moved to a study.

She lost consciousness of time, but never of him. She was too aware of his proximity, too filled with vivid memories that tormented her. He picked up a porcelain figurine of a hunter and dog. Turning it in his hand, he looked at it for seconds and then held it out to her. “Is this piece old? Valuable?” Her fingers brushed his as she accepted it, feeling the warmth of his hand yet the cool, smooth touch of the porcelain. The physical contact with him, while slight, stirred a shower of sparks. She remembered his hands, their texture, the calluses, their magic touches as they moved over her.

Jared worked through the rest of the afternoon with her, finding treasures, discarding things he didn’t care for. He kept everything as professional as possible, just the way she had asked.

Finally he glanced at his watch. “Enough for today. Let’s take a break, meet in thirty minutes in the family room for a drink and then we’ll have dinner.”

She was startled to see it was already six o’clock. “That’s fine.”

“I told my housekeeper to take you to your suite of rooms, and I hope you had a chance to get a little settled in.”

“Mrs. Tarkington did show me my rooms. I can settle in after dinner.”

He smiled. “I can help if you’d like.”

“Thanks. I’ll manage on my own.”

“Maybe after dinner we’ll sit and talk a little.”

“Perhaps,” she said, aware that socializing with him would be difficult to avoid.

“I’ll go change now, too. And show you where I’m staying.” He took her arm, another light touch that caused a deep reaction. Would these volatile reactions fade or grow more intense the longer they were together? She suspected the latter.

“Have you already sent the information you gathered today to your dad?”

“Yes, most of the information and pictures. Not all. I’ll go over the rest tonight after dinner.”

“You have a small desk in your suite, and you have Wi-Fi and a laptop if you should need one.”

“Thank you. I have my own,” she said, climbing the steep, straight staircase beside him. When she reached the suite she had been given, she turned and looked into his green eyes that continued to keep her pulse racing. His thick lashes made his eyes irresistibly seductive.

“My suite is next to yours, so I’ll be close should you need anything.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said, turning to enter her suite.

“Meet you on the veranda,” he said before she closed the door.

Were they going to eat together often? For some reason she remembered him saying he wasn’t engaged. Or even verging on it. “It doesn’t matter,” she whispered to herself. He still had the wild lifestyle he always had. She had heard her brother talk about the reckless things Jared liked to do—mountain climbing, skydiving, hang gliding. Unfortunately Jared made her heart pound and her breath catch, and no other man ever had.

She needed to finalize this inventory and get back home. Too much time with Jared was a temptation to danger.

Just seeing him brought back memories of their night together. A night that still stirred her desire and made him far too appealing. A night that remained vivid and held too many scalding memories. Jared was as sexy as ever. He didn’t flirt as much and neither did she, but she could feel the heat, the attraction, and she suspected he could, too.

Could she get through the next few days with him without a kiss? That might have to be her goal as much as cataloging the inventory. She wanted to get this job completed and return to her quiet world where there was no Jared Weston to tempt her. No matter how appealing and exciting Jared was, Allison didn’t want to get so deeply involved with him that she cared. With a man like Jared, life would be a continual roller coaster.

Hurrying to dress for dinner, she wore a short green cotton skirt, a matching cotton blouse and flat sandals. She twisted and braided her hair, fastening it on her head, hoping to look cool and remote, and to keep things that way between them through dinner.

When she stepped outside, Jared turned to greet her. Dressed casually now in chinos and a black knit shirt, he still took her breath away. The evening presented a challenge the minute she saw him.

As she approached him by the pool, he walked toward her, his look of approval warm while he smiled at her. “You look great.” When his gaze lingered on her mouth, her pulse drummed.

“Thank you. I brought my iPad and thought we might get one more room done after dinner tonight.”

His smile broadened. “Sure, if you’d like,” he said, taking the iPad from her to place it on a table. “In a hurry to get through and get away?” he asked, walking closer to her. “Scared of me? Or taking your brother’s warnings seriously now? Or something else?” he added, studying her.

“I’m trying to stick to business,” she answered, her heart racing beneath his piercing gaze. His green eyes ignited memories of his mouth on hers, his tongue, his taste. The hot need for more then, as now, became a temptation to reach for him. She was fighting memories of his kisses that still could make her tingle merely thinking about them.

“Ever hear of stopping work for the evening?”

“I think sticking to business is a far safer course to follow.”

“Safer than being with me? I’m dangerous?” he asked, his dark eyebrows raising slightly. “How am I a threat? Boyfriend at home? What about Phillip? Your brother said you’re almost engaged. Is your brother wringing his hands until you’re away from me? What is it?” Jared asked.

“No boyfriend,” she said, barely able to recognize her own voice that had become breathless. “Phillip and I are old and close friends, that’s all. And I don’t have to answer to Sloan. He’s got his family, and I’m an adult now.”