World's Most Eligible Texan (6 page)

During the drive to her house, they both were quiet. He felt as if she was withdrawing from him, and he couldn't figure out why. While he thought about her, he was also watching to see if they were being followed. He couldn't pick up a tail, but when he went around the car to open her door, he thought he saw a movement in dark shadows to one side of her apartment building. He had a prickly gut feeling they were being watched, and he wished she had let him take her to his house, but he knew she wasn't going to.

Then, when he closed and locked the door behind her, he forgot about danger or being followed. As they entered her tiny living room, he reached out to slide her coat from her shoulders, letting his hands brush her neck.

He tossed her coat over a chair, placed both of his hands on her shoulders and studied her.

“What is it, Pamela? Something's changed.”

“I'm shocked at your being here just to take me out,” she answered, unable to look him in the eye, too aware of him, fighting her warring feelings. She wanted to close her eyes, stand on tiptoe and kiss him wildly. The evening had tightened the golden bands that bound her heart to him. She loved this tall, charming Texan desperately—and just as desperately, she knew she couldn't let him ever know about his baby.

He was a charmer, and she only half believed all his glib compliments. She knew she was out of her depth with him. She had to keep up her guard, but looking into his thickly
lashed eyes, filled with intense desire, she knew keeping up barriers would be impossible with him.

“I asked you before, but I didn't get much of an answer so I want to ask again. Why were you gone before I woke that morning?” he asked quietly.

S
ooner or later she had known the question would come up again. She'd dreaded it, yet knew she had to face it and give him a reason for her flight. She met his questioning gaze squarely.

“I realized we had rushed into being intimate. That isn't like me, Aaron.”

He stroked her hair away from her face. “I know that. You have a reputation for being very cool, very proper.” As his voice dropped, his eyes darkened with desire that was so blatant, she could feel all her resistance melting away. “You gave me your virginity. I hope you don't have regrets. I don't have any. Far from it. I don't think we rushed anything—I think we followed our feelings. Mine haven't changed.”

“Oh, Aaron,” she whispered. How could she argue with him? How could she avoid telling him the truth? His questions were probing, difficult, and there was one way to end them. She moved the few inches closer to him, slipped her arm around his neck, stood on tiptoe and kissed him.

His arm banded her waist instantly. There was a husky growl deep in his throat as his mouth opened and his tongue thrust over hers, kissing her hungrily, pulling her tightly against him. He was rock hard, strong, lean and marvelous. She felt his arousal, felt her own body ache and tingle with longing.

Winding his hand in her hair, he tilted her head back, tightening his arm around her waist and bending over her so she had to cling to him while his kiss curled her toes and blocked out the world. Her pulse thundered in her ears, and she was aware only of Aaron and his kisses that scalded. Each stroke of his tongue over hers fanned the fires already blazing within her. She wanted him absolutely. Her hips thrust against him, need driving her and demolishing all her intentions of being cool.

He slid his hand down her back and his other hand slipped lower over her buttocks.

“Aaron,” she whispered against his mouth, drowning in ecstasy and agony over being in his arms again.

“Why have you avoided me since the gala?” he asked, raising his head a fraction and studying her.

“I told you. I think we really rushed things.”

“There's something you're holding back from me.”

“Not this,” she whispered and kissed him again, too aware that he knew something was dreadfully amiss. She had to keep him from learning the truth, but how could she hide anything from him?

Driving away her worries, his mouth covered hers and his kisses heated, conveying clearly that he wanted her. He swung her into his arms and moved to the sofa, sinking down with her cradled in his lap. One arm held her close while he kissed her. His other hand slipped lightly along her ribcage and then brushed across her breasts. She moaned softly, arching her back, and tightening her arms around his neck.

“Ah, lady, how I've dreamed of you, wanted you!”

The words were seduction; his kisses rapture. His fingers drifted over her nape, and then cool air brushed her back as
he slowly tugged down her zipper. The coolness brought back a rush of resolutions and remembrance of her condition. She broke free and slipped off his lap, reaching around to try to pull up the zipper of her dress.

Aware of his heavy breathing and his piercing scrutiny, she slid to the other end of the sofa. “I want to stop,” she said, knowing that wasn't what she wanted at all. She saw the desire in his eyes, and the questions. She had to get him out of her life. He was only amusing himself. Whatever drew him back to her was beyond her, but she knew, in spite of his smooth talk, it wasn't anything lasting. It couldn't be. Men like Aaron Black did not fall head over heels, instantly in love with second-grade school teachers from small West Texas towns.

“All right,” he said, running his fingers along her knee and starting more tingles that battered her resolutions. “We'll just talk.”

She couldn't tell him to go. She loved being with him and she gazed at him in silence, totally aware of his fingers moving on her knee.

“I think we were followed tonight. I don't suppose I can talk you into staying at my house—even in another bedroom. Just so you'll be safe.”

Momentarily, her tension eased. She laughed and couldn't resist touching his hand lightly. He sat facing her, one long leg drawn up on the sofa. “No one is following me! And I'm perfectly safe here in Royal. No, I'm not spending the night at your house.”

He gave her a long, direct look that erased her amusement. She realized he was in earnest. “No one knows why the Asterland jet had to make a forced landing.”

“You think someone deliberately caused the plane's malfunction?” she asked, astonished. No question of sabotage had been raised in the papers. No one knew the cause of the jet's difficulties yet, but she had assumed an engine malfunction.

“Surely not!”

“We don't know.”

“I'm sure I'm safe. But I'll be careful.”

“Promise you'll call me if there's anything that disturbs you.”

“I promise,” she said without giving it much thought, more focused on his steadfast gaze, aware of his fingers trailing above her knee now. “One thing that disturbed me since the crash, was the Asterland investigators. They came to ask me questions about the flight.”

“They bothered you?”

“Don't look so fierce,” she said, smiling at him and touching his cheek. “They were just too persistent with their questions.”

“What did they ask you?”

“About what I was carrying on the plane, what my plans were for Asterland, if I had valuables with me. Forget it, Aaron. I don't want to think about them.”

They talked until half past three, and then, when he rose to go, he pulled her into his arms again to kiss her long and hard. More kisses that conveyed that he wanted her with all his being. Kisses that made her melt and tremble and burn with need. His arms held her tightly against him and his tongue thrust deeply into her mouth, stroking her tongue. Suddenly he stopped and raised his head a fraction, bending down again to nibble kisses along her throat.

“Have breakfast with me,” he said, trailing kisses to her ear, his tongue flicking over her ear. “Say yes, darlin'.”

“Yes, oh, yes!” she said, her hands drifting over his back, wanting to touch him all over as she had that last time, wanting to feel his weight over her, feel him inside her again.

How she wanted him! He was as sexy and wonderful and exciting as she had thought he was that first night. Then she realized she had agreed to have breakfast with him, and that he had stopped kissing her. She opened her eyes to find him watching her with stormy green eyes.

“Pamela, anything your mother ever did doesn't have a damn thing to do with us,” he said, and her heart thudded.

“I'm not like her,” she whispered, wondering what he truly thought.

“I never once thought you were like anyone except your own special self,” he said, leaning down to brush her lips lightly with his. His mouth was warm against hers, tantalizing. His words even more dazzling.

“I'm glad,” she whispered. “So glad,” she said, turning her mouth up to his for another long, searing kiss that she wanted to last forever. Too aware of her racing heart, his hot kisses, his long, lean body and strong arms, she clung to him until she knew she had to stop or there would be no stopping. She pushed against his chest and he raised his head. His breathing was ragged, and she could feel his heart pounding.

“I can be patient. I'll pick you up about eight. It was wonderful tonight, Pamela.” He brushed another kiss across her lips and turned to the door and then paused. “Be careful, and if you want me anytime, just call. When I stay in town, I'm not that far away.”

She nodded, barely hearing him, just wanting him so badly, memorizing everything about him. He shrugged into his coat and left. She stepped forward to slip the lock into place and leaned against the cool, hard wood, remembering Aaron's hot kisses, his hands moving over her.

“I want you, Aaron Black,” she whispered, knowing she did want him with her whole heart. And knowing it was impossible to tell him.

She switched off lights and went to her bedroom, turning on the light, but standing frozen, lost in memories of the night. He knew something was amiss and not the same. He was too perceptive, too attuned to her feelings, and she wasn't accustomed to hiding the truth. He drifted in and out of that West Texas accent of his, reminding her there was another side to him and he wasn't a good ol' country boy. He was worldly, sophisticated, wealthy—everything she wasn't. She had to avoid being taken in by charm, glib words, hot sexy kisses.

“Aaron,” she whispered. “Aaron.”

Driving away, Aaron was hot, hard, tied in knots. Frustrated, still puzzled about Pamela's mixed signals, he wondered what was holding her back. Again, he wondered about
her mother's reputation—if Pamela feared getting one like it. That seemed absurd, given that all the males who had ever mentioned her had talked about how cold and untouchable she was. Aaron drove out of the apartment lot, but on impulse, he went around a corner, cut the motor and climbed out. He turned his coat collar up and did as much as he could to hide his white shirt.

Moving into the shadows, he cut across yards until he was back at Pamela's apartment building. He circled one side of the building and, as he turned the back corner, he saw several things at once. She had a ground-floor apartment, and a light burned in her bedroom windows, escaping around the edges of the blinds. The dark silhouette of a tall man in a cap showed against the windows.

As Aaron moved forward, the man spun around and burst into a run.

Furious the bastard was window peeping or spying on Pamela, Aaron stretched out his long legs, but the man had a head start. Aaron was a runner, and he was closing the gap swiftly when the man vaulted a fence. As Aaron leaped over the fence after him, the man jumped into a black car parked only yards away on a driveway.

When the motor roared to life, Aaron was just steps away. He lunged for the car, sprawling across the front fender.

The car raced backwards and Aaron couldn't get a grip, his fingers sliding over the smooth hood before he spilled off to the ground, but he saw two faces, one narrow with a long nose. The other face was a pale blur, much more square-shaped. The car whipped down the drive, turned into the street and, with a squeal of tires, was gone.

Aaron stood, brushing off his suit. He was certain it had been the same black car that had been following him before, and he'd got a dim glimpse of the two men inside. Total strangers. He worried about Pamela's safety. Someone was watching her, but who? And why?

Lost in thoughts about her and about the man he had chased, Aaron drove home, checking his rearview mirror for a tail, but
seeing no car trailing after him. Tomorrow he would trace the tag number on the car that had tailed them. It was Pamela who was being followed, and she obviously didn't have an inkling why.

At his Pine Valley house, Aaron stripped down and stretched out in his king-size bed. It would soon be time to get up, but sleep was as elusive as ever.

Lying awake in the dark of the large master bedroom, he wondered about the men following Pamela. Midmorning tomorrow, actually today, he had an appointment to meet with his friends, other members of the Texas Cattleman's Club. He thought about the old legend of Royal.

 

During the War with Mexico, jewels had been found and hidden in Royal. In 1910 when Tex Langley decided to establish the Texas Cattleman's Club, he and the founding members made a pact that only members of the Cattleman's Club would ever know of the jewels' true existence and members of the club would be the guardians of this town treasure, jewels that, according to the legend, were supposed to be the reason Royal prospered. The stones were kept in a treasure box, accessible to the club members via a secret passage under the original adobe mission built when Royal was founded. Now the mission was in Royal's large park by the Cattleman's Club.

Shortly after the Asterland jet had had to make the forced landing, four members from the Cattleman's Club had gone to the crash site, and Justin Webb had found two of the jewels—the black harlequin opal, the most valued of opals, and a two-carat emerald. All three jewels had to have been on that plane, but the third and most valuable, a red diamond, was still missing.

So far, the club members had kept things quiet, giving some of their information to Winona Raye, who was marrying Justin. A policewoman who worked with juveniles, Winona had agreed to be their contact with the authorities so they could keep things as quiet as possible and out of the media. The facts marched through Aaron's thoughts, taunting him with
puzzle pieces that needed to be put together as quickly as possible. Someone out there was desperate. A trusted bartender, Riley Monroe, had been found dead near the mission where the jewels had been hidden. A scrap of a burned note found at the landing site didn't have enough written on it to piece together answers to questions. Robert Klimt, an Asterland cabinet member on the plane, was in a coma in the Royal Memorial Hospital, and the Cattleman's Club members wanted to talk to him to find out what he knew.

The priceless red diamond entrusted to the care of the Cattleman's Club members was missing and a man had been murdered. Two men were following Pamela. Plagued by concern for her safety, Aaron wished he had been more persuasive about her staying at his place. He wanted to let his friends know that Pamela was being followed. Others must be searching for the missing red diamond. Why were the jewels on the Asterland jet? Was it solely a jewel theft? The jewels were worth a fortune. Or were the jewels to be sold and the money to be used for some nefarious project? Who had killed Riley? Too many questions with too few answers, yet Aaron and his friends were dedicating their efforts to finding out.

He shifted restlessly. If he were staying out at the family ranch, he'd saddle up and ride because sleep wasn't coming anyway, but he couldn't do that here in town. And he wanted to be in town to be closer to Pamela and to his friends at the Cattleman's Club.