Lone Star Courtship (9 page)

“Mind if I take a note?” He withdrew a pen and copied her words on a cocktail napkin while she looked on.

“You flatter me, sir.”

“I'm pleased that's the by-product, though it's not my intent. I couldn't help noticing the snippets you've posted in your office. I, too, love to capture the unique turn of a phrase. Most of my notes come from the least expected places and uncommon speakers, though I have plenty of Shakespeare and Churchill in my journals.”

“So you've actually created books for yourself?”

“Over the years.”

“I'm not nearly so organized. I jot interesting phrases on Post-its and display them on mirrors and whiteboards. Then if I relocate, I stick them in the pages of a spiral notebook. When I get to the new place, I slap the ones that pertain to my situation on the wall for wisdom and encouragement.”

“Contemplation and meditation. Your moments of Zen.”

“You remembered.” The quality of her voice, the awe in her words, was a reward.

“I wrote it down.”

“So I've joined the ranks of great poets and world leaders?”

“In my book, yes.” He wanted to add that she also topped his short list of amazing ladies, blessed with beauty and ability. But it was too soon to pay such compliments. Wasn't it?

She opened her small handbag, fished out a folded newspaper clipping and smoothed it before him on the table.

“Here's something funny for your book.” The glint in her eyes told him he was in for a laugh at his own expense.

He read the cartoon out loud. “‘And God said, “Let there be Satan, so people don't blame everything on me. And let there be lawyers, so people don't blame everything on Satan.”' Quite amusing.”

“I thought so when I clipped it out of the paper this morning.”

“Well, just to show you I can take a joke, here's one for you. What do you call a smiling, courteous person at a Bar Association convention?”

She shrugged and waited on the punch line.

“The caterer,” he deadpanned.

“Good one.” She laughed at his silly one-liner.

With humor sparkling in her eyes she was even more appealing. What wouldn't a man do to win her heart?

“Barrett, not everyone hates lawyers.”

“That's only because not everyone's met us.” He couldn't resist the obvious opportunity to make her laugh again.

“Ouch! Now remember you said that and not me.” She wiped at the corners of her eyes where merriment gleamed after a fit of giggles.

She sobered and pointed to the space between the sea and the sun.

“Oh, Barrett, look! How incredible.”

The gap closed steadily as the ball of light drifted closer to the ocean's surface. The steam engine powering the huge wheel of paddles quieted as guests moved to the starboard to fully appreciate the view. As the blaze of yellow-orange kissed the sea and quickly sank into the deep, three bells sounded followed by the applause of the guests.

Thousands of tiny white lights sprang to life, twinkling like countless stars overhead. Live music drifted up from the deck beneath them and the two soon found themselves in privacy as diners went below to enjoy the unusual jazz.

“What is that?” He tapped his fingers on the tabletop.

“Zydeco. It's Louisiana folk music in keeping with the Cajun theme this evening. You picked a good night to get a taste of New Orleans. Literally!”

“And it seems I picked the perfect companion, since you seem to know all about these things.”

“Galveston celebrates Mardi Gras just like they do in New Orleans. I was lucky to be here during the season and got a firsthand introduction.” She trailed her fingers through colored beads pooled on the tabletop.

“And I was expecting Texas to be full of cowboys and Indians.”

Her hand stilled. How he wished he could recall the comment. “Well, we certainly unearthed plenty of that for you today, didn't we?”

She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the heel of her hand as if the memory of the day's events had rushed painfully back into her mind. He had to do something to distract her from her worries. To atone.

Anything.

He shifted closer, placed his arm protectively around her and cupped her bare shoulder with his palm. She leaned into him, rested her head and nestled comfortably into the circle of his arm. A long sigh escaped from deep within her: a whoosh of pent-up emotion. Then a soft involuntary sniff punctuated the sigh, as if tears threatened. What to do?

Without asking permission or giving himself time to second-guess, Barrett cradled Casey back enough to tip her face up to his. Her eyes were tightly closed, and moisture glistened where her dark lashes pressed together. He dipped his head, pressed his mouth close to her ear and whispered, “Just trust. The Father will work all things out for the best.”

The words were a welcome breath of warm comfort on Casey's ear. The events of the past two days had drained what was normally a limitless supply of energy. Now fatigue had her fighting back tears and in the arms of a man who was not much more than a stranger. A stranger who could be the key to her dreams or keep them locked up indefinitely.

This is crazy,
she told herself.
I have to shake this off and get back to business. Too much is at stake to let this man get so close.

And then what was innocent became intimate as he pressed his lips to hers.

T
he kiss was so unexpected, and so incredibly enjoyable, that it had to be imagined. Fatigue had finally overtaken her. She was hallucinating!

The firm pressure of a mouth upon hers and the soft moan that was most decidedly male convinced her otherwise. She cracked one eye ever so slightly then squeezed it shut. Sure enough, she was lip-locked with the gorgeous Brit!

Along with her pulse, her mind raced at a frantic pace. She knew she should end the intimate contact, stop the madness, withdraw from the embrace. Instead she leaned into him, twined both arms around Barrett's neck and pulled herself closer. It had been so long since she'd been kissed, and
never
like this.

“Ahem.”

Somewhere, someone cleared their throat. She was too well occupied to be concerned.

“Excuse me, miss? Sir? Will you be joining the rest of your party in the lounge?”

Party? Lounge? The silly questions had to be directed at another couple. They didn't know anybody else on the paddleboat and right now all she knew was how wonderful it felt to be wrapped in strong arms, to feel a heartbeat next to her own.

Barrett raised his head, ending the kiss. Casey's eyes fluttered open to stare directly into his. Sitting so close, his breath was warm on her face, and she could make out silver flecks in his eyes like sparks dancing above a fire. It was hypnotic and she was transfixed.

“Thank you, but no,” Barrett responded. “We'd prefer to remain above deck if that's acceptable.”

“Certainly, sir. But we'll be discontinuing service up here for the remainder of the evening.”

“Very well.”

In the silence that followed the waiter's departure, they remained in the embrace, lips only inches apart, eyes staring.

“I must say, of all the things I expected to experience on this journey, this was never a consideration,” he admitted. A wry grin curved his oh-so-inviting lips.

“I'm a bit surprised myself. Whatever made you do that?”

“I've always been a fool for a woman in genuine emotional distress. A female reduced to tears on the witness stand would compel me to request a recess. My trials were interminable, so much so that that none of the partners wanted to sit at the bench with me.”

She relaxed her arms and shifted to put some space between them.

“So, that was a pity kiss?”

He pulled her close, held her firmly.

“Absolutely not. I've wanted to do that since the moment I first saw you.”

“Even covered with dust and safety gear?”

“Especially so. And I wanted to kiss you again when I saw you in your business suit. And again this morning in your boating attire and again tonight when you walked out in that incredibly appealing dress. Your presence has been an assault on my senses and I confess that maintaining a professional distance has made these two days a constant struggle. And just now when you let worry overtake you, I couldn't help myself. A kiss seemed the perfect diversion.”

She pushed out her bottom lip, mimicked the exaggerated pout that always worked for her nieces.

“I'm still feeling worried. I need more distraction.”

He took the shameless hint. A smile curved his lips as he lowered his mouth to capture hers. His kiss was slow and soft, neither pressuring nor apologizing. She breathed in his scent, snuggled into his embrace. Returned his ardor.

Then reality struck. He was a man who could cause a great setback to her career plans if he chose to do so.

And she had almost forgotten that.

Almost. She
had
to catch up on her sleep. Rejuvenate.

She ended the kiss, reluctantly slid her arms free and busied herself with her bolero. He stood to help her into the small jacket. Her flesh prickled where he trailed warm fingertips against her bare skin. The breeze whipped her hair.

“You're cool. Shall we go inside to enjoy the musicians?” he offered.

“I'd rather stay up here where it's quiet.”

“Then allow me, please.”

He swept the suit coat from the back of his chair and draped it over her shoulders. It settled comfortably around her just as his arms had only moments before. This was a man she could be at ease with if only there wasn't the constant threat of his mission.

She inhaled the light fragrance that clung to the fabric. Barrett's cologne. Subtle but so very masculine. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to move her chair closer, to draw warmth from his body rather than his jacket.

Instead she resumed a respectable distance, determined to focus on the professional relationship and make the most of the short time she had to impress him. As a competent executive,
not
a needy female. She'd refuse to think about how absolutely right it had felt in his arms. How utterly perfectly his lips had matched hers.

Details she'd hold close after he was long gone.

She released a sigh at the thought.

He immediately began to apologize. “My boorish behavior has offended you. I was wrong to take such a liberty.”

The man noticed everything! She had to get her emotions off her sleeve. She'd start by making light of her concerns, at least so far as he could tell.

“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “I cooperated fully, so I'm every bit as culpable. Let's just blame it on the moon.” She raised her eyes to the golden crescent that floated overhead.

Barrett would love to charge his feelings to the in-constant moon, but he knew better. What was taking shape inside him was nothing short of incredible. The hiccups his heart knew each time Casey came into view were like nothing he'd ever experienced. He was not a man given to irrational behavior or thoughts. In fact, just about everybody he knew accused him of being too cautious and calculated for his own good. But the very reason he
should
be an excellent barrister seemed to hold him back instead. Was this woman the key to unlocking what he'd waited almost forty years to feel? Emotional spontaneity.

“Let's talk a bit about your personal aspirations,” he said, deliberately changing the subject to something safe. Focusing on what she wanted was far safer than dwelling on his own desires.

“Work is my first love.”

His stomach fluttered at her mention of the word. But it was love of profession, not of the heart.

“So no husband and children for you?”

“Oh, one day maybe. But I have a huge family, so I don't feel the ticking clock that worries so many women my age. No, I haven't driven myself so hard for half my life to cook dinners and change diapers. I'm not sure that'll ever be in the cards for me.”

Again, he felt a deep stab but it wasn't pain so much as disappointment. Why? Because the woman beside him was committed to her career? Wasn't that a good thing in a partner? A
business
partner, anyway.

“How about you? Is your single status by design?”

She stirred a packet of sweetener into her black coffee while she waited for his response.

“Me? Well, I haven't arrived at this ripe old age as an unmarried man intentionally. Stanton and Colby both wed right out of college to women they knew only briefly. That sort of thing quite frankly doesn't appeal to me.”

“Define
that sort of thing.
”

“A whirlwind marriage. I believe in courtship. A long period of getting to know a person.”

“Ah, an old-fashioned guy.”

“Possibly, but more importantly I want to be certain deep down inside that it's right. That it's God's will, a braided cord that can survive any test.” He pressed his fist to his heart to make his point. Had he ever said these words to Caroline? No, because he'd never felt it with her, nor with any other woman. So why was he sitting here with someone he'd known for two days putting down the idea of love at first sight when there was little else that could explain how he felt toward Casey?

Love? Egads!

Where was his cautious and calculated nature when he needed it most? He must have left it behind when he'd boarded the flight at Gatwick because it certainly hadn't accompanied him to Texas.

The cool wind kicked up tendrils, whipping in a frenzy about her face. Casey snuggled deeper into his jacket. She reached across the small space between them and placed her left hand on his arm.

“I think that's wonderful, Barrett. I hope I'm blessed with a man who feels the same. My parents come from Iowa farming country and they grew up within miles from each other. They've been married for fifty-three years and they credit that to the bond they share with one another and with Christ.”

“Do you think there's room for global travel at this time in their lives?”

Her expression changed ever so slightly. Her brows tipped together and a little of the sparkle left her blue, blue eyes.

“I don't honestly know. They'd never agree to be apart and Mama's Parkinson's makes travel difficult.”

She seemed to consider it for the first time. Had she actually thought through all the implications of what she was proposing with his client in London?

“Casey, you do understand there will be meetings in other regions requiring attendance by your chief officer, correct? No alternative representation will be agreeable in some circumstances.”

“Well, yes, but I just assumed…” Her speech faltered as she processed the realization. “I assumed other executives, myself included, would be able to manage those demands.”

“In some cases, that may be. But my client deals heavily in areas of the world where the culture won't accept a stand-in.”

He watched a moment of consternation play upon her face, clouding the eyes that had been alight with enthusiasm moments earlier. Once again he felt guilt for putting the concern there, but if the lady wanted to compete on a global scale she would have to get educated. Quickly.

Could she handle it? The events of the past two days told him she needed a coach, one savvy in legal as well as financial matters. Could she find such a resource in time to make a difference? Either way, that was her business. He'd already crossed enough lines of propriety. The very reason he'd come all this way was being jeopardized. It was time to take a step back.

“I believe it would be to your benefit to acquire a corporate coach.”

Her back straightened at the suggestion, as if he'd insulted her.

“I can make some calls and get some recommendations for you,” he rushed on, hoping to recover.

“I beg your pardon, but I have an MBA and a black belt in Six Sigma. I don't need mentoring.”

“And I have an Oxford law degree as well as acceptance to the Bar Counsel. Even so, I'm a lousy trial barrister who's still looking for his fit in the profession.”

“So, you're saying I'm lousy at what I'm doing and I need help finding my fit.”

Women!

He closed his eyes and sent up a prayer that when he opened them again Casey would have a smile on her face and this would just be a joke between them.

No such luck. There was most decidedly a crease between her brows and a downward curve to those sweet lips.

Lord, give me the words to backtrack from my misstep!

“That is not at all what I intended to convey.” He tried for recovery.

He reached for her hand but before he could capture it she snatched it to her lap, suddenly preoccupied with her white linen napkin.

“On the contrary, Barrett, I think that's exactly what you meant.”

“Well, maybe in a way, although I certainly wouldn't state it in such crude terms. Listen, Casey, you're obviously new to this position and from what I've observed, your training ground is basically on-the-job baptism by fire. There's no shame in that but your learning curve is taking place on some very high-stakes territory and you're asking a foreign investor to take a chance on you. If you won't consider a professional coach, how about bringing your brother back into the equation? Have him come down for the duration of the project.”

“Absolutely not.” The set of her jaw accentuated the clipped words. “Guy is a newlywed and he belongs with his family. I'm qualified to do this and I will, with or without your support.” She twisted the napkin between her hands. Was she imagining it was his neck?

“Did I say I wouldn't support you?”

“Well, that's not exactly why you're here now, is it?”

“No, it is not. But my purpose is suddenly as foggy as a Cornwall morning, because I find that I care about you.”

She stopped terrorizing the linen square and raised her eyes to his. There was no joy in her gaze, only confusion and question.

“Is that your offer of casual friendship?” she asked.

“Have you noticed anything casual about me thus far?”