Falling for the Texas Tycoon. Karen Rose Smith
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They almost had a tug-of-war over the coffee table, the heaviest piece. But Alan was bigger and stronger. When he’d wrestled it from her, he smiled. “Give in, Lisa. Let me take the heavier pieces.”
Hands on her hips, she glared up at him. “Are you going to be difficult to work with on the golf resort project, too, Mr. Barrett?”
Holding the coffee table as if it weighed no more than his Stetson, he smiled at her. “It’s Alan. And as far as being difficult to work with, that depends on whether you let me have my way or not.”
“And I suppose you’re used to getting your own way?” she challenged.
“Not many people cross me.”
“Then maybe you’ve met your match.”
He eyed her thoroughly. “Maybe. Or maybe because we’re both determined and because we both know how to get the job done, we could work very well together.”
With a sigh and a shake of her head, she gave in. “Take the coffee table upstairs. I’ll grab one of the end tables.”
“Why don’t you just grab the magazine rack or the flower stand?”
“One thing you’re going to learn about me, Mr.—” At the lift of his brow, she stopped. “Alan…is that I pull my own weight.”
“Then go ahead and pull your own weight up there, and unlock the door. You can do that better if you’re not carrying anything too heavy.”
If she smiled, he’d know he’d won. She wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. Instead of the magazine rack or the flower stand, she picked up a floor lamp and hoisted it over her shoulder, then quickly moved ahead of him and hurried toward her apartment. She had to get rid of him. She had to stop reacting to his grin. She had to forget that his eyes were as blue as any sky she’d ever seen.
After several more trips, Lisa quickly positioned everything where she wanted it.
Alan glanced around appreciatively after it was all in place. “You have an eye for arranging furniture.”
“I just know where I want it.”
His gaze fell on the striped salmon-and-turquoise sofa, the Boston rocker, the mahogany tables and the Tiffany lamp. “You’re missing something.”
“I know. I need to get an area rug.”
“Oh, that’s not what I meant. You’re missing a big old recliner where someone could be really comfortable.”
She assessed him thoughtfully. “Do you have one of those?”
“Back in Texas I do. Here, none of the furniture’s quite broken in yet. The recliner has to be five years old to be comfortable.”
She couldn’t help but move closer to him. She couldn’t help but study his expression carefully. “A man like you keeps a five-year-old recliner?”
“I hold on to things I’m fond of. Just because I can buy anything I want, doesn’t mean I’d rather have new than aged. Sort of like that necklace you keep fingering. It doesn’t look brand-new, but it seems to mean a lot to you.”
She knew whenever she was nervous or uncertain, her locket was a talisman she touched to stay grounded. But she didn’t want Alan asking too many questions about it. She certainly wouldn’t open it for him.
“This was a gift from Carrie and it means a lot to me. It’s an antique. I guess I keep touching it to make sure its still there.”
“You’re a contradiction.”
“And that means…?”
“That means you like to act tough, but I think you’ve got a softer side.”
“You don’t know me.” She was sure if he did, he would want nothing to do with her.
“We’ll be remedying that soon. Working out of town and traveling together has a way of taking off the veneer pretty fast.”
The apartment had a quaint older-house smell, part plaster, part polished furniture, part lavender potpourri. But she was standing close enough to Alan to catch the scent of his cologne, to see the interest in his eyes, to feel a pull toward him that made her feel trembly inside.
“Do you live alone at your ranch in Texas?” She wondered what to expect when they got there.
“No, my brother lives there, and I have a housekeeper.”
“Does the ranch have a name?” If she didn’t keep talking, if she didn’t keep words between them, she was afraid something would happen that she’d regret.
“The Lazy B. My grandfather named it and started it on the road to success.”
“Why did you get involved in real estate? I mean, wasn’t the ranch enough?”
“In some ways, the ranch was too much,” he drawled. “I grew up there and learned the ropes as a kid. But I also learned it could engulf a man’s whole life. I wanted more than that. And since my brother was more inclined to want to handle it, I let him. Christina has always been interested in the horse breeding aspect. It wouldn’t surprise me if she wants to take that over someday.”
His daughter was merely four years younger than Lisa was. She shouldn’t be standing here like this with him, alone in her apartment. She didn’t know him. She shouldn’t even want to know him.
When she took a step back, he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I know you said you have work to do tonight, and I don’t want to keep you.”
“You suddenly got very nervous on me, Lisa. What’s going through your head?”
Since they did have to work together, she wasn’t about to tell him. “Nothing you want to know about.”
“You mean like earlier today? When you got something in the mail and wouldn’t tell me why you were upset?”
“As I said, Alan, you don’t know me. Maybe you were wrong about my reaction. Maybe you were seeing something that wasn’t there.”
“Or maybe you’re trying to hide how disturbed you were by that piece of mail.”
She took a couple more steps back, knowing that this man saw entirely too much. “I think you’d better go.”
Cocking his head, he asked gently, “Are you afraid of me, Lisa?”
“Should I be?” Her question was almost belligerent. She needed to wrap defenses around herself, and that was the only one she could find.
“Hell, no. I like women. I respect them. And I think I can read the signals they give out pretty well.”
“I’m