dresser top, she went to answer it and was faintly surprised to see Lex Saddler standing on the other side of the threshold. Obviously, he and his men had gotten all the little dogies marked with the Sandbur brand.
“Good evening, Christina.”
Christina couldn’t help herself. Before she could stop it, her gaze was sliding over him, noting the clean jeans and brown ostrich boots, the blue-and-white pin-striped shirt tucked inside a lean waistband, the long sleeves rolled back against corded brown forearms. At the moment his hat was absent. It appeared he’d made an effort to slick the thick blond hair back from his forehead, but a couple of strands had slipped from the restriction and were now teasing a toffee brown eyebrow. A faint stubble of whiskers said he either didn’t like shaving or had lacked the time to pick up a razor.
But the faint brown shadow did nothing to detract from the man’s appearance. In fact, he was even more sensual and sexual than she’d first thought, and it irked her that the mere sight of him elevated the beat of her heart.
“Good evening,” she said, returned his greeting, then, with a quick glance at her watch, asked, “Am I late?”
He smiled. “Not at all. Mother’s on the front porch. We thought you might like to come down and have a drink before supper.”
“Sounds nice,” she agreed.
She shut the bedroom door behind her, and as they started down a wide hallway leading to the staircase landing, he linked his arm though hers, smooth and easy. Christina realized he was an old hand at escorting women.
“So, do you like your room?” he asked. “If you don’t, there are several more you could try.”
“The room is lovely,” she told him, then tossed him a glance. “And so is your ranch.”
His brows arched upward, and then he chuckled. “My kind of woman,” he drawled. “I think we’re going to get along just fine.”
Christina wasn’t ready to make such a prediction. Especially when he was giving off such flirtatious vibes. She was here for work and work only. She wanted to get along with this man, which would allow her to resolve the case quickly. If she had to keep fending him off at every turn, she was in for a long row to hoe.
At the bottom of the long staircase, they crossed a wide living room with Spanish-tile floors, brown leather furniture and several sculptures and paintings depicting the history of the century-plus-old ranch. It was not the formal type of sitting room she would have expected in the home of such a wealthy family. Instead of being a showcase, it had a livedin look, which had instantly put her at ease.
After passing through a short foyer, Lex guided her onto a long concrete porch with huge potted succulents and wicker furniture grouped at intervals along the covered portico. Somewhere in the middle, Geraldine Saddler sat in a fan-backed chair, sipping from a frosty glass.
When she spotted Christina and her son, she smiled brightly.
“I see Lex found you ready to come down,” she said to Christina. “Would you like a margarita or a glass of wine?”
“A margarita would be fine,” Christina replied.
“I’ll get it,” Lex told her. “Just sit wherever you’d like.” He released his hold on her arm and headed to a small table where Cook had organized glasses, a bucket of ice and several choices of drinks.
The moment Lex left her side, it felt as though the tornado that had been traveling beside her had now moved safely away. At least for the time being.
Drawing in a slow breath, she took a seat directly across from Geraldine and smoothed the hem of her skirt across her thigh. She’d hardly gotten herself settled when Lex returned with her drink.
“Thank you,” she murmured quietly.
“My pleasure,” he said as he took the seat next to her. “And be careful with that thing. Cook pours in a lethal amount of tequila. You might want to drink it slowly. Not everyone can handle liquor like my mother,” he added teasingly.
Geraldine scowled at her son. “Lex! You’ll have Christina thinking I’m a sot! I only have one or two of these in the evenings and sometimes none at all!”
“Yeah, but one or two of those things would kick my head right off my shoulders,” replied Lex.
Although he spoke in a joking tone, Christina was inclined to believe he was being more or less truthful. The sip she’d taken from her own glass was like a cold jolt of lightning. Her father would love this, she thought wryly. But then, she had to give the man credit. He’d not touched alcohol in five years and was getting his life in order again.
Christina smiled at her hostess. “It’s delicious.”
She could feel more than see Lex watching her.
“So tell me about being a private investigator,” he prompted. “Have you always done this sort of job?”
She turned her gaze on him, then wished she hadn’t. He had such a raw sex appeal that each time she gazed squarely at his tanned face and beach-blond hair, she felt her stomach clench, her breath catch.
Stop it, Christina! You’re not a teenager. You’re a thirty-three-year-old woman who understands firsthand how a good-looking man can wreak havoc on a woman’s common sense.
“No. I was twenty-two when I first went into law enforcement for the San Antonio Police Department. I remained on the force there for four years. Then I had an offer for an office position with the Texas Rangers. I worked there five more years before I finally decided I wanted to go into business for myself.”
He casually crossed his ankles out in front of him, and from beneath her lowered lashes, Christina followed the long length of his legs with her eyes, all the way down to the square toes of his boots. If there was ever a complete description of a Texas cowboy, Lex Saddler was it.
“So what made you interested in law enforcement?” he asked. “Did you follow a relative into that profession?”
Christina might have laughed if the reality of her family situation hadn’t been so sad. Her father had fought his own demons while trying to work in a family business that he’d had little or no interest in. And then there was her mother, who had flitted from one man to the next in hopes of finding happiness. No, her parents had lacked the dedication it took to work in law enforcement.
“None of my relatives have been in law enforcement of any sort. I just happened to find it interesting. I decided I wanted to spend my time helping folks find lost loved ones. Most of my cases consist of missing persons.”
His brows arched slightly. “Well, my father is hardly missing, Christina. He’s in the Sandbur cemetery. Along with the other family members that have passed on.”
Her chin lifted a fraction. “I said I work mostly on missing-person cases, Lex. I didn’t say I worked on those types of cases exclusively.”
Geraldine eased forward in her chair. “Unfortunately, my daughters Nicci and Mercedes couldn’t be here this evening. But they’re agreeable to what I decide, and Lex has promised to keep them informed. They, like Lex, have had doubts about their father’s death. But none of them wanted to voice them out loud.”
He
