The Barons Of Texas: Tess. Fayrene Preston

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СКАЧАТЬ It was like lightning caught in a bottle, an electric tension that would be safe only as long as it was contained. And he didn’t strike her as the type of man to contain his energies for long.

      This was her birthday party. She knew everyone here. Everyone, that was, except him.

      She skimmed the crowd, wondering who had brought him, but everyone was either dancing or mixing. No one looked as if they’d brought a guest, then forgotten him. Besides, she reflected ruefully, it would be impossible to forget him.

      Behind him, the sun was slowly setting into the Gulf of Mexico, its great orange ball searing the water with its heat as it dipped lower and lower. Silhouetted against the elemental tableau, with the sun surrounding him, the man looked larger than life—a sun god.

      At that moment she wouldn’t have bet money against the possibility that he had lassoed the sun down from the sky.

      She exhaled a long breath, reminded herself that she didn’t have a quixotic bone in her body, and forced her focus elsewhere. At least everything else about her party was going well.

      A warm breeze from off the Gulf waters somehow matched the band’s sensual bossa nova beat. Icy margaritas and long neck beers were being served, along with mounds of jumbo Gulf shrimp and oysters harvested fresh that day. Out on the lawn, barbecued cabrito turned on a spit.

      He ate or drank nothing, though she’d seen waiters offering him his preference of drinks.

      “Happy birthday, Tess.”

      The voice of a longtime friend snapped her mind back to her party. “Thanks, Becca.” She kissed the cheek of the pretty young woman, then reached up to hug Becca’s college sweetheart and husband, Mel Grant. “I’m so glad you two could come.”

      Becca laughed. “Are you kidding? Your birthday parties are way too much fun to miss. Besides, Corpus Christi is a pretty cool city.”

      Mel smiled at her. “It’s become a party game to try to guess where you’re going to hold your parties each year. The year you threw your party in Kuala Lumpur is now legendary. But last year I felt a little let down.”

      She grinned. “Oh, yeah?”

      “Southfork?” He shook his head. “Not very original, Tess, and way too close to home.”

      She laughed. “Sorry, but the location of my parties depends on where I’m working, and last year I was working at home.”

      “I know, but personally, I was hoping for an oil rig in the South China Sea.”

      “An oil rig is no place to throw a party—which you very well know. Too much chance for harm on either side.”

      Mel worked for Coastal Petroleum, one of the world’s major oil companies. Nevertheless, he sighed dramatically. “Okay, okay, I’ll give you that, plus a big thumbs-up for this year.”

      “What a relief,” she said dryly.

      “Yep. This is a great house, right on the beach and with a fabulous view. I’d say you made up the points you lost last year.”

      “Ignore him, Tess,” Becca advised.

      “He’s much too entertaining to ignore. Besides, he’s right. This is a great house. I leased it because my new offshore drilling site is straight out there.” She pointed toward the Gulf. “And because there’s a great helipad at the side of the house.”

      Mel nodded. “By the way, congratulations. Word is you think the reservoir you’ve found out there will be your richest oil discovery yet.”

      She grimaced, and her hand automatically went to cover her stomach, where a heavy dread appeared every time she thought of what she was gambling on this one site. “Do me a favor and don’t congratulate me yet. I’m superstitious. The initial tests were very encouraging, but in the end, we both know that could mean nothing. I won’t celebrate until we strike that first oil and the well actually starts to produce.”

      Becca waved a dismissive hand. “You’re like a bloodhound when it comes to oil. I’d back your instincts before I would all those sophisticated tests they do. If you like what you’ve seen out there, then the oil is as good as in the pipeline.”

      Tess gave Becca a quick, grateful hug. “Thank you.”

      Her instincts had always been solid; Becca was right about that. Yet the stakes were so high on this particular venture that she couldn’t be sure her instincts hadn’t been tainted by her need for this well to come in big, not to mention quick.

      “Word is also out that you’ve been having some problems,” Mel continued. “In case you decide you need some help, just remember, my company is always interested.”

      Unfortunately, it was very hard to keep secrets in the oil business. “You know how I feel about my oil ventures, Mel.”

      “I know, I know. They’re your babies, and you keep them until they’re raised and well into old age.”

      She nodded. “It’s a family tradition.” She’d hoped this party would help her relax and have a good time, something she hadn’t been able to do in a long time. Unfortunately, though, her nerves were tighter than ever. Between Mel and his well-meaning talk of her problems and the man… He hadn’t moved, and he was still looking at her with that laser gaze of his. Beneath his stare, her skin felt just like it was being sunburned.

      “Listen, do either of you know that man standing over there, leaning against the balustrade?”

      Both Becca and Mel glanced over their shoulders. “No, but if I weren’t with Mel tonight, I would love to.”

      Mel frowned at his wife. “Excuse me, but I don’t think that’s funny.”

      “No?” With her eyes twinkling with laughter, she reached for her husband’s hand. “Then how about dancing with me? Maybe it will come back to me why I love you so much.”

      “That sounds like a challenge and I’m definitely up for it.” With a wink at Tess, he pulled his wife onto the dance floor. “See you later.”

      “You bet.” Surely there was a simple explanation for the man’s presence. Tess pondered. One of her guests must have brought him, but if so, why weren’t they with him? Why hadn’t they introduced him to her? And most of all, why did he keep looking at her?

      And, damn it, where was Ron? He might be able to tell her the identity of the man. Ron Hughes was a bright, competent young man in his late twenties. As her assistant, it was his job to know everything and everyone, and he usually did. But he was probably still in the house, working in the two-room suite they’d appropriated as their offices for the time they would be there.

      Someone lightly clasped her elbow. “Dance?”

      She started, then inwardly laughed at herself. No, she reflected wryly, there was nothing at all wrong with her nerves. She looked around. “Colin! Oh, great, you made it.”

      “Did you doubt it for a minute?”

      She smiled. “No.”

      Colin Wynne, СКАЧАТЬ