go. Instead, he stared down at her, at her heaving breasts in the black bikini, and she felt exposed and vulnerable hugged up against his gray suit.
âWhy did you do that?â he snarled at her.
âYour grandmother would be devastated if you sent her pig to a shelter. She loved that pig. She got it because she was lonely. You would know that if youâd come to see her in the last year or two.â
He seemed to flinch at her accusatory words. Dark eyes stared down at her, a mixture of fury and something else burning in them.
She was getting through to him, though. âPearl wanted you to have that pig. She wanted it so much that she had them add it to her will specifically. Not me. You. Would you disappoint her like this? Canât you give him a chance?â
Travis leaned in and Risaâs heart fluttered. Her hands were still curled on his shoulders, her heaving breasts pressed against his chest. It was almost as if . . . he was going to kiss her. Forgettable Risa Moore? Kissed by the most eligible billionaire in Texas?
âMr. Jesson?â A tinny, thin voice emerged from the phone at the same time Gregory gave a playful squeal from the side of the yard.
The spell broken, Travis released her and put the phone back to his ear, his gaze moving off of Risa and staring blankly into the distance. âJust call my driver and tell him that Iâm staying overnight. He can come and get me in the morning.â
Risa stepped away to catch the towel that Gregory was dragging all over the yard with playful excitement. Her mind was in turmoil.
Travis hadnât canceled his plans to drop the pig off at the shelter. But he was staying here. She gathered up the towel and knelt to scratch Gregory behind the ears, glancing back at Travis.
She found his gaze on her, even as he spoke into his phone and discussed business with his assistant.
Risa shivered. Was it anticipation or dread curling in her stomach right now?
* * *
After years of working for an elderly woman with health issues, Risa was a very light sleeper, attuned to waking up at the slightest hint of noise. So when she heard the low murmur of a manâs voice, she sat up in bed and glanced over at the clock.
Two in the morning.
What exactly was going on? Was Travis still working? She scrubbed at her eyes and tossed the covers aside, getting out of bed. She shouldnât be so nosy, she knew she shouldnât, but there was just something about Travis Jesson that made her toss aside all common sense. Pulling on a pair of pajama bottoms over her panties, she straightened the T-shirt she slept in and moved for her door, ignoring the bobbing of her full breasts. She should get a bra if she was going to talk to Travis.
Then again, she just wanted to spy on him, and going braless meant that sheâd avoid a midnight confrontation, which was smart if she didnât want to creep the guy out. Since it was just spying, braless it was.
She carefully opened the door to her room, holding the handle and opening the door slowly so it wouldnât creak. She began to head down the hall to the guest room where sheâd left Travis, only to find the murmur of Travisâs voice coming from the opposite end of the house. Intrigued, she padded down the hall to the stairs, and peered down from the top of the banister.
The kitchen light was on.
Risa crept down the stairs, heading for the kitchen, her curiosity good and piqued now. She could still hear the low murmur of his voice. A late-night business meeting? A phone call? She approached the kitchen doorway and peered in.
Travis Jesson sat on the floor, his back against one of the kitchen cabinets. A half-empty bottle of whiskey sat on the floor next to his hand. A large photo album was cradled in his lap.
Strangest of all, Gregory was lying beside Travis, his head on Travisâs knee, watching him.
As she stood in the shadows, Travis took another swig of whiskey and turned the page