kidnapped in revenge and taken to the drug lord’s home in Mexico, and her stepbrother had rescued her. There had even been a shooting when Christabel Gaines and her guardian Judd Dunn had run afoul of a murderer; Christabel had been shot by one of the notorious Clark brothers, who had killed a young woman up around Victoria. Clark was now serving a life sentence without hope of parole.
But other than those episodes, Jacobsville was mostly a quiet place to live. Delia lived in a cocoon of kind people and rustic charm. She was unsophisticated, not really pretty, and rather shy.
So, why, she wondered, would a rich, worldly man like Marcus Carrera even want to take her sightseeing. If he was as rich as Barney said he was, surely he could get any sort of women he liked—beautiful women, talented women, famous women. Why would he want to take Delia out? Maybe he was desperate for company? She laughed at that thought. But then she remembered the torrid kiss they’d shared, and her heart raced. Perhaps he felt the same way she did. It didn’t have a lot to do with looks, social position or wealth. Nobody could explain physical attraction, after all.
That fiery passion was unsettling to a woman who’d never felt it in her life. She couldn’t even consider an affair, she told herself. And he didn’t seem to be a marrying man. Surely if he’d wanted to marry, he’d have done it, at his age.
There was another consideration—if she was going to go against her own best instincts and go out with him, she’d have to lie to Barb. She’d never done that in her life. Barb had loved her, sacrificed for her, taken care of her even more than her own mother had. In all honesty, she loved Barb more than she’d loved her poor mother. But the alternative was to forget Marcus and stand him up. Her heart ached at just the thought of not seeing him again. This sudden hunger to be with him, to hold him, to kiss him was overpowering. She couldn’t bear to stand him up. Even after only a brief meeting, her eyes ached for the sight of him.
She told herself that she was an idiot. But she was going to meet him, no matter what the consequences. She couldn’t help herself.
In the end, her fears of Barb seeing her with him in the lobby evaporated when Barney had an emergency call about his business back home. His headquarters was in New York, but he was opening a new hotel in Miami, and there were major problems with the contractor who was building it. The man had walked off the job, with his entire crew, after an argument with one of Barney’s vice presidents. Barney was going to have to fly there and solve the problem. Barb, who was in charge of the interior design for the building, would necessarily have to go as well, since the contractor had been authorized to supply the materials she required.
“I hate leaving you here alone, baby,” Barb said worriedly. “Would you like to fly down to Miami with us while we sort this out?”
Delia thought fast. “I think I’d rather stay here, if you don’t mind,” she said. “I really wanted to get in some sunbathing on the beach.”
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Barb persisted.
“She’s a grown woman, for God’s sake. You’re only her sister, not her mama,” Barney said furiously.
Barb flushed. “Well, I worry!” she defended. “What about Fred?” she added.
“Fred’s gone to Miami, too, for the week,” Barney muttered, searching for his wallet. “I didn’t know he had business interests there,” he said with an odd smile.
“There!” Delia said, relieved. “That solves the problem.”
Barb was frowning. “You aren’t going off with Carrera anywhere, are you?” she asked suspiciously.
Delia managed to look dumbfounded. “Chance would be a fine thing!” she exclaimed. “I mean, look at me,” she added, spreading her arms wide. “Tell me why a man that rich would look twice at a plain, nobody of a seamstress from a little town in Texas?”
“You are not plain!” Barb argued. “The right clothes and makeup and you’d be a knockout. In fact, we just outfitted you, didn’t we, and you have yet to wear a single thing I bought you!”
“I will. I promise,” Delia said in a conciliatory tone.
Barb sighed. “No, you won’t. You spend your life in sweats and old shirts. In fact, you didn’t even have any shirts without pictures or writing on them until I brought you down here and took you shopping.”
“I’ll wear the new clothes,” Delia promised, and she meant it. Marcus might like her in something pretty.
“We need to talk about this,” Barb continued.
“But not right now,” Barney said impatiently, looking at his Rolex. “We have to go right now or we’ll miss our flight.”
“All right,” Barb said reluctantly. She hugged Delia. “You keep this door locked while we’re gone,” she began. Barney was opening the door and motioning to her. “Don’t open it unless you know who’s outside!”
“Yes, Barb,” Delia said automatically.
“And do not go out at night alone…” Barb continued.
Barney had her by the arm and was dragging her toward the door. She laughed. “Don’t take candy from strangers!” she called merrily. “Don’t go too near the ocean, and don’t pet stray dogs!”
“I won’t, I promise,” Delia chuckled.
“I love you!”
The door closed on the last word.
“I love you, too!” Delia called after her.
There was a skirl of laughter and then, silence.
Delia tried on three of the new outfits Barb had bought for her before she settled on a simple white peasant blouse with a lace-edged white cotton skirt and a wide magenta cotton wrap belt. She’d found the outfit in one of the local stores and the saleslady, an elegant tall woman, had showed her how to wrap the belt around her waist several times and tuck it in. The result was very chic, especially with Delia’s small waist.
She was vibrating with nervous energy and indecision about her choice when the phone rang and made her jump. She ran to answer it.
“Yes?” she said at once.
There was a deep chuckle, as if he knew she’d been sitting on hot coals waiting for him and was pleased by it. “I’m in the lobby,” he said.
“I’ll be right down.”
She hung up and darted to the door, only then realizing that she was barefoot and had forgotten both her purse and the room key. With a rueful laugh at her own forgetfulness, she ran back to get her shoes and purse and key.
Eight breathless minutes later, she arrived in the luxurious lobby, having spent five minutes waiting for the elevator.
She stepped out into the lobby and looked around worriedly for Marcus. And there he was, lounging against the wall opposite the bank of elevators, lazily elegant and smiling.
He was wearing a green knit shirt with brown slacks. He looked big and expensive and sexy.
He was looking, too, his dark eyes intent on her trim figure and especially
