The Texan's Suite Romance. Judy Christenberry

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want to talk about my personal life.”

      “I’ll do the best I can, Dr. Myerson, but I can’t control these people.”

      “Did you have that problem when you did your tour?”

      “Absolutely. All the men wanted to discuss my sex life. All the women wanted to know what I ate, implying that I lived on watercress sandwiches.”

      His chuckle seemed to surprise both of them, as if he hadn’t laughed in a long time. “I can see their point,” he finally said.

      Gently, she said, “After reading your book, I can understand why they would want to ask you about your marriage.”

      He stared out the window, saying nothing.

      Suddenly, a horrible thought struck her. “Oh, no! You haven’t just gone through a divorce, have you? Because someone will find out and it will destroy the tour. Tell me now if that’s the case.”

      Glaring at her, he shook his head. “That’s not the case!”

      She breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. Then we’ll be all right, as long as you don’t lose your cool. If they ask you something personal, just steer it toward generalizations. I’m sure your wife won’t mind that.”

      At that moment the flight attendant interrupted to serve them lunch. Tabitha abandoned any pretense of conversation. It was hard enough when she was concentrating on it, but she wanted to enjoy her meal.

      Not surprisingly, Myerson remained silent too. She took the opportunity to sneak a glance at her companion and study him surreptitiously. His jawline looked as if it was chiseled from granite, hard and sharp-edged, and the firm set of his mouth added to his imposing look.

      Still, she knew he had a sensitive side, though it had yet to show itself. Jenny, his wife, no doubt had brought it out in him. Was that it? she wondered suddenly. His moodiness was a result of missing her? She could help that.

      “Dr. Myerson, if you want your wife to join you for part of the trip, I can arrange flights for her. Just let me know.”

      “That won’t be necessary.”

      “Really, Mona wants you to be happy, and after reading your book, it’s easy to see how close you are to Jenny, so I’d be glad to—”

      “No, she can’t join me!” His voice was harsh again.

      “Why not?”

      She thought he wasn’t going to answer her question. But he finally did. “Because she’s dead, Miss Tyler. Now will you leave it alone?”

      Mona certainly hadn’t told her that. “I’m sorry. When—”

      “A year ago today.”

      Alex hadn’t intended to tell anyone of Jenny’s death. He had kept his mourning to himself. Jenny hadn’t had family, and his didn’t care, so he’d tried to appear as if nothing had happened.

      He’d begun the book a couple of months before Jenny had failed to return from the store one evening. That night several police officers had knocked on his door, telling him a truck driver had fallen asleep at the wheel and killed three people. Jenny was one of the victims. He’d finished the book as a posthumous tribute to his wonderful wife.

      He was sure, however, that he couldn’t talk about Jenny during the interviews. He’d lose emotional control. And he didn’t want people to buy his book because they pitied him.

      Staring out the window the rest of the flight, he said nothing to the young woman beside him. She was even more beautiful than Jenny, and unlike his wife she had the gift of life. He hoped she appreciated it.

      When they finally left the plane, she offered to carry his laptop case for him, in addition to her own briefcase. Did she think grief had incapacitated him?

      That thought angered him even more.

      He didn’t want to think about his grief.

      “No thanks,” he ground out. “I’m fine.”

      “Very well.” She went down the aisle ahead of him. When they reached the walkway, she said, “I’ll meet you at the baggage claim.”

      “Where are you going?” he demanded.

      “I’m going to the ladies’ room. Did you want to accompany me?”

      “No,” he growled. He’d deserved that response, he supposed. But she sure wasn’t Mona.

      He already had his bags off the baggage carousel when she found him.

      “Show me your bags and I’ll get them for you,” he said. It was his way of apologizing again.

      “No need. I have a porter with me,” she assured him. “Oscar, these are Dr. Myerson’s bags, if you want to put them on the trolley.” A minute later she pointed to the carousel. “Oh, there they are. Those two tan bags. Thank you, Oscar,” she added as the porter snagged her bags. “Now we need a taxi, and we’ll be on our way.”

      “Right this way, Miss Tyler,” Oscar said.

      Alex frowned. She’d certainly gotten friendly with the man in a short period of time.

      When they got in the taxi, after tipping Oscar, she instructed the driver on their destination. Then she turned to Alex.

      “I thought we’d check into the hotel and have an hour or two to relax before we go to the interview. After that, you have the signing. We won’t get dinner until late, so I’ll order a snack for you. If you want to look at the room-service menu, you can tell me what you’d like.”

      He nodded. He knew Mona had said she’d make his life easy, but somehow it bothered him that this woman was so in control over him.

      Once they arrived in downtown San Francisco they entered a beautiful hotel, whose reception area looked out at an incredible garden. Miss Tyler came to a halt, gasping at the riotous color of the flowers. “How lovely!”

      “Yes,” he said without thinking, “Jenny would’ve loved it.” Realizing what he said, he stepped back and frowned at his companion. “I mean, yes, it’s beautiful.”

      She gave him a sympathetic smile and continued on her way to the reception desk.

      It didn’t take much perception to notice all the men staring at his guide. Tabitha Tyler certainly took the attention in stride.

      “Doesn’t it bother you that all the men are staring at you?” he demanded.

      “No, I’m quite used to it.”

      She must’ve seen the withdrawal from such arrogance in his eyes.

      Laughing, she said, “Because I’m one of three. My sisters and I are triplets, Dr. Myerson. People have been staring at us since we were born.”

      “Triplets? Do they look just like you?” he asked in astonishment. He couldn’t imagine three of Tabitha Tyler.

      “Yes,

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