Lone Star Courtship. Mae Nunn

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      “And your family is diversifying by investing in the U.S. home improvement market?”

      “Good heaven’s, no,” he insisted, possibly louder than necessary.

      The rag the woman had twisted around her head must be too tight. He would never suggest such a thing to his family and wasn’t at all sure he’d recommend the client do so, either. This mission was critical and he had no intention of failing. Again.

      “Well, you don’t have to make it sound like a bad thing.” The tilt of her brows indicated he’d offended her.

      “Please, allow me to explain. I represent the U.K. group interested in Hearth and Home. I’m here to review and report on the legal implications of moving forward.”

      “So, you’re a financial adviser?”

      “More accurately, I provide legal guidance on financial matters.”

      “You’re a lawyer?”

      She used the word as if it were synonymous with ax murderer.

      “I’m a barrister, that’s correct.”

      She dipped her chin, looked at the items she’d put on the table and muttered something under her breath that clearly included the phrase, “An ambulance chaser with an accent.” She began to unroll one of the tinfoil objects.

      He mirrored her actions with the mystery food, having no idea what to expect inside. Hopefully a hearty serving of pork pie or Cornish pasty.

      “I see you have high regard for my profession,” he observed, not at all offended. It seemed to be a common opinion the world over.

      She raised her face, met his gaze.

      “My family lost a small fortune and spent months in court thanks to money-hungry lawyers. Even so, that doesn’t give me the right to be rude.” A charming pout puckered her lips. “The simple truth is I’m disappointed. I was expecting your client in person.”

      “I’m sorry to let you down. I’ll do my best to make amends.” He offered up a smile, removed his suit coat and loosened the Windsor knot in his tie.

      Her grin was sheepish. “Now it’s my turn to apologize. I’ve reacted like a petulant child and that is not the first impression I usually give.”

      “Nonsense, you cast a lovely image, and perfectly suitable for the surroundings.” He angled his head, indicating the catering coach. Her eyes widened with exaggerated offense.

      He raised a sore palm to shield him from the expression. “You must admit, we’ve both had a bit of a shock in the past half hour. What do you say we start over?” He lifted his soft drink and offered a salute. “To new beginnings?”

      The blue eyes narrowed while she considered the proposal, as though it were possible she’d refuse his toast. Then a sly smile curved what might be the most perfect mouth he’d ever seen. She raised her soda.

      “To new beginnings,” she agreed.

      The two cans made contact with a clunk.

      As they flipped the tabs of their drinks and took first sips he considered his interesting change of circumstances. The hard-driving American businessman he’d expected to find had turned out to be an attractive young woman. If her footwear was any indicator she was more concerned with work conditions than appearance. Quite a nice change from most females in his life and nothing at all like Caroline. Maybe his luck was turning about. Maybe this woman would be so involved with the nuts and bolts of construction that she’d leave him to his work.

      He felt a burden lift from his heart. Yes, things were looking up. In no time at all, his task would be complete. This trial by Texas would be a thing of the past and he’d be heading home.

      He remembered the quote for the day on the calendar in his office. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

      He didn’t yet know which she was, but either way during his stay in Galveston he’d stick close to Miss Casey Hardy.

      Chapter Two

      Casey watched with fascination as Barrett studied his tamale. His grim confusion was priceless, reminding her of the first time she’d encountered a plateful of boiled crawfish.

      “What is this part?” He poked at his food with the tines of a plastic fork.

      “A corn husk.”

      “So, swine food is to be my first meal in Texas.”

      “You don’t eat that stuff. It’s used to roll the tamale and then hold it together while it’s cooking.” She took pity on the guy, something she never thought she’d do with a lawyer. “Here, like this.”

      With practiced fingers she peeled away the moist husk to reveal the steamy contents.

      “So that’s how it’s done.” He smiled as he followed her example, but resumed his look of concern when he raised a forkful to his face and studied it.

      “The meat on the inside is roasted pork and the stuff on the outside is made from Mexican cornmeal.” She lifted the food with her fingers and put away the tasty Mexican staple in two unladylike bites. Her mother would raise her eyes heavenward and wonder where she’d failed, but with her kids there always seemed to be a connection between clothing and table manners. When they were casually dressed, proper behavior seemed to fly out the window.

      To atone, Casey dabbed her lips daintily, wiped her fingers with a paper napkin and then motioned for her company to eat up. Barrett disposed of the initial suspicious bite then forked the rest and popped it in his mouth. He closed his eyes while he chewed as if giving all his concentration to the flavor.

      “Jolly good,” was his simple declaration as he motioned toward the sack. “May I have another? I’m famished.”

      “That’s why I bought a dozen.”

      He reached into the brown paper bag. “I’d like to hear the details of your expansion plan. Would you mind telling me something about that while I eat?”

      She glanced at the time. Cooper had arranged for their primary contractors to join her in the construction trailer at three o’clock sharp and she still had plenty to do before their meeting. Savannah was nothing if not efficient, so Casey was certain every thing would be pulled together and ready when she took her place at the head of the conference table.

      Still, there were things she had to handle herself.

      “I’ve caught you at a bad time, haven’t I?”

      The worried crinkle around his eyes gave away his anxiety over her response. She waved away his concern while she fished a cell phone from the pocket of her grubby shirt.

      “No, but I do need to juggle some stuff. You enjoy your lunch, I’ll step away for a few minutes to make some calls and we’ll wing it from there.”

      In response he expertly shucked his second tamale, ate it in two bites and then mimicked the way she’d dabbed at her lips with a napkin.

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