Название: One Night With The Texan
Автор: Lauren Canan
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon Desire
isbn: 9781474060813
isbn:
Her eyes were drawn to his lips. So full. So enticing. She swallowed hard. She again had that vague feeling of having met this man before but the only face that came to mind was the mysterious stranger who had seduced her. No way could the two men be the same.
“I understand this might be an inconvenience for you, Mr. Masters. But the reason I’m here is equally important. Possibly more so.” He drew back, shaking his head. “What I’m seeking could potentially be under the spot where you plan to pour concrete, which would be a problem. If there are artifacts there, they could be damaged by your construction. If you’ll tell your workers to move their equipment out of my work area, I’ll conduct my research as expeditiously as I can to get out of your way.”
“That’s it?” His eyes locked with hers and she felt a tingle run down her spine. Where had she seen those eyes before? Suddenly a feeling of deja vu ran rampant. “We halt our operation and get out of your way? On my land.” His frustration was coming back. She could see the muscles in his jaw working overtime. Something about his voice touched a nerve. She’d swear she’d heard it before, which was ridiculous. She didn’t run in the same circles as billionaires.
“I would assume the judge knew who owned this land when he signed the order. I would have to say he’s probably not going to change his mind. If you should decide to take your case before a higher court, it would take longer than I’ll be here.” Unless she found proof an ancient civilization existed, which would make the ninety-day limit moot, but she would be throwing gas on the fire to bring that up now.
“Yeah. He knows me. And I know that judge. My attorneys will handle this.”
“Of course. That’s entirely your right.” The man sure didn’t mind throwing his weight around. She’d never seen a court-ordered, ninety-day search permit overturned. But to smile, as she wanted to do, might provoke him further. She fought the urge. Neither of them needed that. Just the fact that he was here and causing a delay was bad enough.
He called out to one of his men. “Harvey, this is Dr. Finley.” His eyes flashed to hers then back to his foreman. “She has a map detailing an area in which she needs to work and has been given the authority to do so by the court. Temporarily. I want the area flagged. Call Michaels at the land surveyor’s office, if need be.”
Harvey didn’t look at all convinced he could do as asked, but he wasn’t going to tell his boss that. “Yes, sir.”
“And you’ll have to move the equipment. Find a rise, in case we get a storm, and make sure it’s all outside of her...work area. The concrete trucks need to go back to Latham’s Equipment.” He received another nod from his foreman. “Just what is it, exactly, you’re looking for, Doctor?” His hands rose to his hips. “Some kind of Indian relics?”
“Something like that.” It was a heck of a lot more than that. But because of his in-your-face attitude, she was hesitant to enlighten him further. He wouldn’t care and it was her experience the more a land owner knew, the worse they could make it for the archaeology team. “Actually, I’m looking for artifacts establishing my own family line. The recovery of such relics will be of great scientific value to the Native American Historical Society as well as to the National Historical Association. Do you keep cattle here? I need to know so I can take precautions if the answer is yes,” she continued.
“No,” he replied. “No cows or any other livestock allowed on this part of the property.”
* * *
He stared at her. His eyes narrowed as he looked, really looked, at her face. He couldn’t stop his eyes from roaming from her eyes and lips down her body, all the way to her toes. He ran one hand over his lower face as her identity confirmed in his mind. It hit him like a blow to his solar plexus. His expression changed to a smile he tried to hold in check.
Tallie Finley was the beautiful woman he’d spent the night with in New Orleans. No doubt.
Apparently she hadn’t recognized him. Yet. He currently wore a beard and was dressed in a suit and tie. He was certain she had a completely different perspective of him now than she had then. But he knew her. He would never forget those beautiful, voluptuous curves, that stunning face, the long, silky, ebony hair and that deep Southern drawl.
She was the vision he’d dreamed about and thought about for almost three months. While striking, in the darkness her eyes hadn’t been such a vivid green. Now they blazed emerald fire.
“Your eyes are so green.” It just came out. And right now they were spitting green daggers.
She stared like he’d gone daft then turned away, suddenly angry. “Is the color of my eyes of great importance?”
“No. No. I just...it surprised me, that’s all.”
“Yeah, well, a lot of things surprise me.”
Yeah, Cole thought. And she was going to face a whopper of a surprise just around the corner. He would wait to see how long it took her to figure it out.
She reached up and pulled the band from her hair. With a quick shake and a finger-comb it was floating on the breeze like a dark, wispy cloud.
Damn, she was a beautiful woman. Tall and slender. Still a head shorter than his six foot four, she appeared both fragile and resilient. He had firsthand, intimate knowledge she possessed both those qualities. Her eyes demanded respect. Her hair was long, past her waist, and so black it looked blue under the direct sunlight. He could see the determination in her stance; in the way she carried herself. High cheekbones and those brilliant green eyes stood out in her slightly bronzed face. A man could get lost in those eyes. Easily. But he saw the determination in them. She wasn’t here on a fool’s mission. She would fight for the right to work on this dig and uncover evidence of her Native American ancestors’ lost tribe. How did a man compete with something like that? If she was legit. If she was really here to find artifacts.
“Is there anything more I can do for you, Mr. Masters?”
He stepped toward her until less than a foot separated them. “That is the question.”
He was close enough that he could feel the warmth of her body.
She stepped back. “If not, I need to get busy.”
He’d never thought he would see her again, although he’d hoped to. He’d kicked himself a hundred times for not getting her name and contact information before he’d left that Saturday morning. He began to relax. With her hair piled up on top of her head at first and the green coveralls that hid every luscious curve, he was surprised he’d recognized her. But he had and she was here. His project was going to be delayed for a while but now it had a silver lining.
He could only stare as she began to work her locks into a long, silken braid. Suddenly it felt as though they were the only two people on earth. In this setting it wasn’t hard to imagine. The sight caused every cell in his body to spring to readiness. A liquid heat ran rampant through him, pooling in his groin. It was New Orleans on steroids. And he wanted her until it hurt.
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