here by yourself?” her friend asked, handing her a glass of champagne.
“Trying to avoid another conversation about Shelby or what I think of the new president of the TCC,” Alex admitted, taking the glass with a grateful smile.
“James Harris is a great guy.”
Alex nodded. “I like him, too.” She glanced at the tall African American man standing next to the right of them, talking to Rose Clayton. “And, oh my God, he’s seriously hot.”
In fact, there were many drop-dead gorgeous men in this room, most of them members of the TCC. She knew why she was single—chronic commitment and abandonment issues—but that didn’t mean she had to be celibate. Yet she was.
“You keep looking at Daniel Clayton,” Rachel remarked. “Not that I blame you. I swear he was birthed by an angel.”
An unfortunate choice of words, Alex thought wryly, since Daniel’s mom was reputed to be anything but celestial. Daniel never spoke about Stephanie but there were enough gossips in Royal to ascertain a little of what his life with his tempestuous and unstable mother had been like. According to the grapevine, Rose had been the only responsible adult in his life. His loyalty to his grandmother was rock-solid and unshakable.
Their romance had been doomed from the start. Because, as it turned out, Alex had never been able to compete with Rose and Daniel’s fierce allegiance to The Silver C ranch.
“Matt Galloway is just as good-looking,” Alex commented, partly to be perverse but also to distract Rachel from linking her and Daniel together. There was no “her and Daniel,” and there hadn’t been in a long, long time. And she wasn’t lying, Matt Galloway was a young Clooney: as good-looking, as rich and charming, and as much of a reputed playboy as George used to be.
“He is—was—Billy’s best friend.” Alex wasn’t sure what Matt’s looks had to do with him being Rachel’s dead husband’s friend, but she was familiar with the don’t-go-there look on Rachel’s face, since it was an expression she often used. Alex liked her own privacy, so she didn’t push Rachel.
Rachel wound her arm around Alex’s waist and squeezed. “Have I said thank you lately for letting me stay with you at the Lone Wolf Ranch?”
“We love having you and baby Ellie there,” Alex responded.
“And I don’t take it personally that you frequently run away to Sarah’s tree house.”
“That’s more to avoid Gus’s lectures about finding a husband and giving him a great-grandchild than avoiding you, as you well know. Gus is determined to get me bound and breeding. I, on the other hand, need to think about getting back to Houston, to my life there. I came home to be with Grandma Sarah in her last days, but I’m still here, a year after her death. Royal was only meant to be a stopgap. My life isn’t here.”
“Sure looks like it is,” Rachel commented. “As a digital-media strategist, you can work anywhere in the world, and you love the ranch, spending time with Gus.”
Of course she did, but being with Gus and working part-time as the Lone Wolf’s business manager didn’t stop her from missing her grandmother with an intensity that still threatened to drop her to her knees. It didn’t stop her from wallowing in the past, from remembering how happy she and Daniel had once been before she learned that love didn’t conquer all.
Alex sucked in her breath when his eyes slammed into hers and, as always, she felt caressed by the light of a million stars. Electric tingles skittered across her skin, tightened her nipples, sent heat to that place between her legs. This was just red-hot, carnal lust, and nothing, she silently insisted, like what they’d experienced so long ago.
Back then, they’d been constantly drunk. On love, on each other. They’d hurtled headfirst into love and sex and passion, blithely thinking they could handle the thousand-degree fire they’d created, stoked and fed.
Pfft. She’d emerged with third-degree burns. But the worst part? Alex still found Daniel physically intoxicating. And judging by the unbanked desire flashing in his eyes, she made him feel equally off balance.
Good. He deserved nothing less.
Rachel accepted a dance from Gus, old flirt that he was, and Alex, wanting fresh air, slipped out the side door. She inhaled the cool, fragrant night air and wrapped her arms around her waist as she walked toward the gardens surrounding the TCC. In daylight it was immediately apparent that the surrounding grounds, flower beds and paths that meandered through the once-glorious garden needed some updating and attention. But at night the gardens were mysterious and welcoming, an old friend. She remembered playing hide-and-seek in these gardens with her brother and her friends, sneaking down to the small pond to steal a kiss from Daniel Clayton, away from their eagle-eyed grandparents.
Fun times, Alex thought with a bittersweet pang.
She heard the crunch of boots on the gravel path, and then a jacket covered her bare shoulders. She inhaled his familiar scent—sandalwood and leather, wood and wildness. Big, manly hands settled on her shoulders and she instinctively leaned back, her head resting against his collarbone, his warm breath on her ear.
Suddenly she was eighteen again. Daniel had his hands on her...and all was right with her world.
“Lexi.” Daniel’s deep voice rumbled over her skin, as deep and dark as the night.
Alex knew that she should run away. But she was so tired of tamping down her fantasies of what it would be like to have Daniel naked and in her bed. Of dreaming how he would make love. Teenage Daniel had been hesitant, cautious, but adult Daniel would possess her the same way he did everything else, with confidence and raw virility.
And she wanted him. God, how she wanted him!
Alex sighed as his hand brazenly moved over her shoulder, down her chest, to slide under the lapel of his jacket and cup her breast. His thumb swiped her nipple as he pulled her earlobe between his teeth, gently nibbling.
“Still so sexy, Lexi. Love what you are wearing.”
She couldn’t remember what she’d put on so she glanced down... Right, a loose, off-the-shoulder black top with a full, flower-patterned pale pink skirt.
Alex knew she should push him away, but instead of being sensible, she placed her hand behind her back, her fingers seeking out his erection. There it was, hard and long and thick, and she heard his low, guttural moan as his cock jerked beneath her touch. Then she was making whimpering sounds of her own as his hand pushed aside the fabric of her top so that he could feel her naked flesh and pull her tight nipple between his fingers.
She lifted her head up and to the side, and then his mouth was on hers. Parting her lips to receive his tongue, she moaned her frustration when he smiled against her mouth, silently telling her that he enjoyed teasing her, making her wait. He’d always been more patient, more interested in drawing out every moment of their pleasure.
Daniel’s chaste kisses were in direct contrast to his roaming hands. He bunched the fabric of her skirt and pulled it up her legs, and his fingers trailed up her thighs, played with the tiny V shape of her panties. Alex felt him shudder when he discovered her panties were only comprised of one triangle and a few thin cords.
“Naughty underwear, Miss Slade,” Daniel growled against her mouth.
“Shut
