Lone Star Courtship. Mae Nunn

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      “I’ll get that, Savannah.” Casey tucked pages into a leather binder. “Will you join me in my office, please?” The phone rang again and she dashed from the conference room, evidently certain he would comply.

      “Better hurry, she won’t wait on you to catch up.”

      “That’s the second time I’ve been told that today.”

      Savannah grinned. “Welcome to the orbit of Casey Hardy. She spins fast and you’re either pulled in by her gravity or slung out into space. Either way, it’s a wild ride.”

      Barrett stepped into the office with Casey’s name-plate on the door. She was already on her cell phone, a small pair of tortoiseshell glasses low on her nose as she referred to a spreadsheet before her. She gave him an apologetic smile and held up her index finger, indicating she’d only be a minute.

      Unlike the well-appointed and spacious conference room, this work area was small. The desk and credenza were piled high with files. A desktop as well as a laptop were booted up within arm’s reach, appointment reminders flashing on both monitors.

      “Organized clutter,” he noted, and couldn’t help wondering if that was the way her mind operated.

      A whiteboard covered with brightly colored Post-it notes hung at eye level to the left of the desk. He was delighted to find the handwritten words were quotes. Being a fan of a well-turned phrase, he’d always had an appreciation for words of wisdom that stood the test of time. Right in the middle of the board was a phrase that caught his attention and almost took his breath.

      Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

      Chapter Three

      Casey replaced the handset without a sound and returned her attention to the strikingly handsome man in her office. Rumpled and wrinkled and with a lock of hair drooping over his forehead, he was dangerously appealing. His shirt gaped open at the throat, revealing a flash of tanned chest that matched the sun on his face. An outdoorsman.

      Probably a golfer. She’d always wondered at the intelligence of those who wasted their time and money chasing a dimpled ball with a metal club and called it sport. Yep, she’d bet he was a golfer.

      He stared at her Post-its.

      “My moments of Zen,” she explained.

      “Zen?”

      “You know, contemplation and meditation.”

      He grinned at something he read, his profile alight with humor, deep with character. Her insides squirmed in the most delightful way.

      “Is that why you collect them?”

      “Not really, but it’s one of the nice benefits of the effort.”

      He read out loud. “‘A mountain lion roared with pride after he’d eaten a longhorn steer. He made so much noise that a hunter shot him. Moral—when you’re full of bull, keep your mouth shut.’” He turned puzzled eyes to her. “I don’t quite get that one.”

      “Hang around Texas for a while and you will.”

      “In that case you’d better explain it to me now, as I have no intention of being here long enough to decipher colloquialisms.”

      He won’t be around long. Hot dog!

      Her heart thumped with relief. Then, just as quickly, it wilted with regret.

      He won’t be around long. What a shame.

      “So, your visit will be a short one?”

      “That depends upon you, actually.”

      He dropped into one of the visitor’s chairs, propped his leather case on his knees, ran his thumb across the combination lock several times and popped the lid open.

      “I have a list of queries.” He lifted a handful of documents. “Until all are addressed satisfactorily, I will be underfoot, but not a moment longer.”

      She leaned toward him, held out her hand and offered just the smallest smile.

      “May I?” She used her most persuasive voice.

      Seemingly unaffected, he shoved the pages beneath the lid, closed it and spun the lock.

      “I’m afraid I cannot release those documents without written authority from my client.”

      “And Savannah says I have starch in my shorts,” she muttered.

      “Hmm…” He narrowed gray eyes and pretended to think. “If I’m interpreting correctly, you are saying my stiff demeanor may be induced by my undergarments. An interesting if uncomfortable visualization.”

      She struggled to hold back a grin. He caught on quick.

      “I meant no offense,” she apologized. Sort of.

      “None taken. But I must observe company policy.”

      She imitated his accent.

      “Come now, Barrett. Surely it won’t break rule number one to share the subject of your queries?” Her pitiful effort probably resembled a chimney sweep more than the Queen Mum.

      His eyes flashed and a wry smile curved very inviting lips. She couldn’t wait to share the news of this unexpected hottie with the four older sisters who constantly worried about Casey’s complete lack of a personal life.

      “Jolly good cockney you’ve got there.”

      “Thanks, that’s just what I was going for,” she lied.

      One dark eye blinked so quickly it was impossible to tell if it was intentional.

      Was he flirting? Her heart thumped.

      Casey Hardy, get a grip. You are thirty, not exactly desperate. Yet. And this guy is a lawyer, for crying out loud. A wolf in sheep’s clothing however sharply dressed.

      She gave herself a mental shake, uncrossed smooth bare legs beneath the desk and sat taller in her chair.

      “All joking aside, tell me how I can cooperate. And I’ll make it my personal mission to get you on the next flight back to Merry Old England.”

      Barrett flinched as if a stab of pain accompanied her comment. This woman was obviously anxious to be rid of him. Was this becoming a pattern in his life?

      Casey leaned closer, her dazzling blue eyes filled with concern.

      “Are you okay?” She’d noticed his discomfort.

      “Yes, of course.” He looked down at his wounded palms, seized them as an excuse. “It’s just these scrapes. They’re fairly fresh and a bit painful still.”

      “Here, let me get my first-aid kit.” She tugged a knob СКАЧАТЬ