Page 12 of Texas Tycoon's Christmas Fiancée
“That definitely has to change. Let’s get started.”
She nodded and slipped into her worn black coat, closing the door behind her. A cold wind whipped her and she pulled her coat collar closer. “It’s dark so early now,” she remarked, shivering in the cold.
“You’ll be warm in a second.”
“I’ve never ridden in a limo, a fact that I’m certain doesn’t surprise you. While you, on the other hand, have ridden in them since before you can remember.”
A chauffeur opened the door and she climbed inside the luxurious interior, thinking it was an enormous waste of space for just two of them. While she noticed the lavish conveniences, her attention shifted to Nick. He sat near her, partially turning to face her and stretching his arm along the seat. Wind had caught a lock of his midnight hair and blown it over his forehead, heightening his appeal.
“You could live in here,” she observed, only half aware of what she said because her attention was on Nick. “With the exception of a bed and bath, this is a mobile home.”
His amused expression made her realize how inexperienced she must sound. “I can see why you’re not in a topcoat,” she continued. “Your limo is toasty warm.” She slipped out of her coat and had started to pull it around her shoulders until Nick took over the task. His warm fingers brushed her nape, creating sizzles. “So tell me about this life of yours, Nick. It’s vastly removed from mine.”
“Not unlike your own life, except I’m not starting up a business. We both work to accomplish our goals,” he said, his eyes taking leisurely inventory of her features, pausing on her mouth with a directness that caused her lips to part as she inhaled quickly. “We make decisions. We deal with people and accounting.” He continued his bland list while his satisfied expression brought heat to her cheeks. He could see the effect he was having with nothing except a sensual visual survey. “We’re both single. We both live in Dallas.”
“You make it sound plain and simple, but it’s not. I’ve seen local papers and magazines,” she said, hoping she gave a sensible reply. She felt trapped in a web of sensuality that he spun effortlessly. Trying to focus her attention solely on their conversation and break his spell, she looked away.
“I go to parties. I imagine you do, too,” he continued.
She smiled at him. “When I do, I don’t get my picture taken.”
“Something I can forgo,” he stated.
She glanced out the window as they drove through downtown Dallas, where holiday lights multiplied the feeling of a fantasy evening.
“So, Grace, what do you want in life? Dallas’s largest catering business? A chain? What’s your ultimate goal?”
“I want my own successful restaurant or restaurants,” she said, sharing her ambition with him and surprised at how well he could convey an illusion of intense interest in her life, something that cajoled information from her. “Since my first job I’ve worked in restaurants. I started with my aunt and uncle, who had a modest restaurant that was reasonably successful. When Uncle Pete died, Aunt Clara sold the restaurant and retired.” Grace was aware as she talked that she had Nick’s undivided attention. His steady gaze gave her the sense that he was spellbound by every word she said. She could see that such concentration would cause people to reveal more to him.
“A restaurant is open six or seven days a week, requiring long hours and demanding work, I would imagine.”
“So how many hours a week do you put in?” she asked, suspecting he worked longer hours often.
He smiled. “You make your point. Now what do you do for recreation?”
“Now my pleasure is in taking care of and playing with Michael. He’s a delight. Compared to yours, my life is simple. While we have things in common, we live in different worlds. I don’t ride in limos and jet off to Europe.”
“From the first, you’ve surprised me. I expected someone entirely different.”
“Maybe you had preconceived notions about Alicia as well as me. While you, on the other hand, filled my expectations completely.”
“Ouch. That means predictable and a few other undesirable descriptions.”
“Not necessarily. I had the advantage of hearing beforehand about you from the media,” she said.
“Don’t believe the tabloids. Except the confirmed-bachelor part. My father has married enough to scare me from that forever.”
“I’m sure.” Glancing outside, she gave him a questioning look. “Where are we going?”
“Since you haven’t had a night out in a long time, I tried to think of something special. We’re taking my plane to Houston, where we’ll board my yacht. When you’re ready, we’ll fly back the same way.”
“Your yacht,” she echoed, unable to believe she was headed for the experience he outlined. An evening on a yacht in the Gulf with a handsome multimillionaire. How had she tumbled so abruptly into a magical night that she would never forget in her entire life? Her excitement soared over the prospects. “You meant what you said when you told me something special,” she remarked. Her anticipation caused her to flash him an eager smile.
“Ah, your smile—that makes my efforts worthwhile. Regrettably we got started in a manner that prevented many smiles from either of us,” he said softly. “You have a smile that should get you the world,” he added, his eyes warm.
“I think your flattery probably makes more gains than my smiles have,” she answered lightly, aware they were treading on dangerous ground by flirting.
“I figured you would have a sitter for Michael and have to get home tonight.”
