The Maverick's Virgin Mistress / Lone Star Seduction. Jennifer Lewis

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The Maverick's Virgin Mistress / Lone Star Seduction - Jennifer Lewis Mills & Boon Desire

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out of her element here in Rick’s luxurious penthouse.

      “Which bedroom would you like? We’re on the corner so each one gives you a different view of the city.”

      He ushered her into a large room with gold draperies, an elegant sleigh bed and a panoramic view west over the Galleria area.

      “Gee, I don’t know if this is fancy enough for me.” Alicia grinned.

      “I see what you mean. And really, the morning light is better from the east.”

      He guided her out the door. Pleasure shivered through her at the feel of his hand at the base of her spine.

      They entered a room with a large four-poster bed laden with embroidered pillows. Elegant white draperies fluttered slightly in the air-conditioner breeze. The view across the treetops of Memorial Park—all the way to the shimmering skyscrapers of downtown Houston—was breathtaking.

      “Then again, sometimes it’s annoying being woken up too early.”

      Gentle pressure from his palm sent heat snaking through her belly. She allowed him to ease her out the door.

      The third bedroom had a Japanese flavor with willow-green draperies and images of cranes and lilies on the wall.

      The bedpost and furniture were crafted from elegant bamboo. A bubbling fountain ornamented one corner of the bright space.

      The view looked down on a wooded bend in the river—a strangely wild vista for this part of the world—and added to the impression of a lush retreat.

      Alicia smiled. “Pretty! I like this one.”

      “Make yourself at home. You can stay as long as you want. And I mean that quite literally. I have the suite reserved for the next two years.”

      She laughed. How much money did this guy have? This suite probably cost ten thousand dollars a night. “Hopefully, my brother will let me come back home before then, but I appreciate the offer.”

      Rick’s striking blue eyes fixed on hers. “Now, dinner. I usually have it sent up from the hotel restaurant, but we could go out if you prefer.”

      “I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”

      “If you insisted on me cooking it myself, I think we’d both be in trouble, but as long as professionals are involved, it’s no trouble at all.” A naughty dimple appeared in his left cheek. “Let me get you a menu.”

      He slipped out of the room, leaving Alicia to catch her breath.

      Her heart pounded under her pale-blue blouse and her high heels sank into the soft carpet.

      Houston lay at her feet like a rug unfurled, the sun setting over the trees and rooftops casting a soft glow over the delicate furnishings of the lovely bedroom.

      Tonight was the night. By tomorrow morning she’d be a woman in every sense of the word.

      Rick appeared in the door with the menu, startling her out of her thoughts. “If you don’t like anything on the menu, we can talk to the chef. He’s a pretty cool guy. He knows I’m wild about lobster so he saves the best ones for me.”

      “I love lobster.” Alicia looked up. “I always feel guilty eating something that can live so long, but they’re too delicious.”

      “Done.” Rick snatched the menu from her fingertips, which tingled as his hand brushed against them. “And your visit here definitely calls for champagne.”

      They ate in the suite’s formal dining room. Champagne sparkled in crystal flutes as candlelight illuminated the details in the wood-paneled walls, and cast shadows across the white, linen tablecloth.

      The chef had prepared them an array of different sauces for the lobster and some creative and colorful salads.

      The champagne tickled her nose and she was careful to take only the tiniest of sips so she wouldn’t get tipsy. She didn’t want to miss a single minute of tonight.

      Rick leaned forward. “Does Alex have any suspects for the fire?”

      Guilt speared Alicia as she realized she’d totally forgotten about Alex and the fire. “I don’t think so, but there was a suspicious fire at the Brody headquarters a while back and they had the nerve to blame Alex, so being a guy, he’s decided the Brodys might be responsible.”

      For a moment, she thought she saw a shadow flit across Rick’s face. He picked up his glass and took a sip. “I’d think you’d be friends with the Brodys. They’re members of the Cattleman’s Club.”

      “Yes, but Alex and Lance have this dumb rivalry dating back to high school. I’m glad it’s not medieval times or they’d be challenging each other to jousts. Typical macho silliness.”

      “So, you don’t believe Lance Brody set the fire?” His expression was strangely serious.

      “Of course not. Why would a successful businessman want to burn down our barn? That doesn’t make any sense at all.”

      She hesitated. “Alex does have some enemies, though. No one who’d really want to hurt him, but he’s trodden on a few toes over the years.”

      “Haven’t we all? It’s part of being successful.”

      She sighed and nodded. “And he rose so far so fast, it put some people’s noses out of joint. Did you know Alex used to be the groundskeeper at the club?”

      “You’re kidding me.” His look of genuine shock made her wonder if she shouldn’t have told him.

      Did Alex want people reminded of his humble beginnings?

      “Not for long. Just during part of high school and college. He used to mow the lawns after class. Once his import-export business took off, he quit and he’s never looked back.”

      “I had no idea.” Rick raised a brow. “Alex sounds like quite a character.”

      “He’s an amazing man.”

      “And I guess he doesn’t think any guy is good enough for his baby sister.” A smile lifted one side of his mouth. “Is that why you won’t let me near the house?”

      Alicia laughed. “He’s overprotective. It drives me nuts. I know he’s only like that because he cares about me, but come on—I’m twenty-six!”

      He leveled a serious blue gaze at her. “Maybe you should get your own place.”

      “Oh, I’ve thought about it, but as far as Alex is concerned, a girl doesn’t leave home until she goes to live with her husband.”

      She blanched. Once again she’d managed to raise the specter of marriage. That spooked most guys right out of the room. “It’s a Mexican thing. We’re very traditional. You learn to work around it.”

      At least some people did. Maria had lived on her own for three years.

       Maybe I’m just the lamest wimp on earth.

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