Page 14 of Texas Tycoon's Christmas Fiancée
“Not necessarily. Tonight, absolutely not. I talked about my life goal. I didn’t have a thought in my head about my father. While we’re together, my entire aim is to get to know an enticing woman,” he added, lowering his voice, his expression as warm as a caress, making her insides jelly.
“All right, Nick,” she whispered. “I believe you.” She could not avoid shifting her gaze to his mouth. She wanted to kiss him. Mindful that was an unequivocal path to disaster, she longed to press her lips to his.
Their pilot announced an approach to Hobby in Houston, breaking the spell.
Nick flicked a knowing glance at her as he leaned away.
She gulped air into her empty lungs. He was a spellbinder. Effortlessly, he had crumbled her resistance and she reminded herself to get a better grip on her responses.
The minute they emerged from the plane, she shed her coat and realized why Nick hadn’t worn a topcoat. Warm coastal air enveloped her and she smiled in delight. “Ah, this is grand,” she said.
“Excellent. I want the entire evening to be grand,” Nick said, and she smiled at him.
They boarded the chopper that whisked them to his luxurious white yacht floating on dark water. The magical atmosphere increased, Nick weaving a spell that could mesmerize her completely.
After meeting the captain and part of the crew, Nick held her arm. “Let’s go to the top deck for a drink and we’ll dine. Afterward I’ll give you a tour.”
“Sounds perfect,” she said.
They rode in a glass elevator that revealed a view of a sweeping staircase, floors beautifully outfitted and enormous pots of exotic plants. When the doors opened, she stepped onto a deck that increased her sense of unreality. A small band played and she saw a table set, centered with a crystal vase holding bird of paradise blooms tucked between white orchids and plumerias.
“Nick, it’s paradise here. Warm weather, a yacht, the lights reflecting on the water. The docks and coastline are decorated for the holidays—various colored lights as if this is part of a colossal party,” she said, turning to smile at him.
“I’m slipping,” he said. “Water, flowers, yacht, lights—I was in hopes I’d be in that list somewhere.”
Feeling giddy, she laughed. “You, sir, are the pièce de résistance,” she admitted, tossing caution overboard.
“That’s infinitely better,” Nick stated, turning her and taking her into his arms to dance to the ballad the band played.
Startled, she followed his lead. In spite of the slight space between them, she detected his inviting aftershave. Through the fine wool of his suit jacket and his shirt, she felt the warmth of his arm. His hand holding hers heightened her sensory reaction.
“I’m in a dream tonight. You’ve succeeded beyond my wildest hopes. I never guessed I’d spend an evening like this.”
“I’m more than pleased and if you think you’re the only person having a great time, you’re wrong.”
She smiled. “For a few hours, there is no tomorrow and no routine life,” she said. “Only paradise and a handsome charmer,” she admitted, conscious she played with fire. Raging fire. Even so, she refused to allow caution to reemerge.
The music ended and Nick led her to their table. “I have champagne.”
“It has to be followed by coffee when we eat. I’m not into wine and champagne and magic.”
He smiled as he opened the champagne with a pop and poured it into slender flutes. He offered the bubbling drink.
“Nick, this yacht is moving,” she said, startled by the realization that they were sailing.
“Don’t be alarmed. We’re traveling only a short distance along the shoreline and then circling back. I thought you’d enjoy seeing the lights and it would be more pleasurable than remaining anchored.”
The fleeting question arose: could she trust him and accept what he promised?
As if he discerned her thoughts, he spoke. “I promised we’d go back whenever you want. If you’re uneasy, we can return now and eat at one of the restaurants,” he said, and she felt foolish.
“I just don’t know you very well.”
“Say the word and we’ll return right now.”
She shook her head. “Thanks, but no. I’m just unaccustomed to getaways like this.”
“Text your aunt, tell her where you are,” he said. “I think you’ll feel better. I’ll talk to the band.” He walked away and, losing her qualms, she followed his suggestion, grateful that he had made it.
