World's Most Eligible Texan Read Free Page A

Georgian-style houses with sweeping, constantly tended lawns. “We’re very different, you and I,” she said solemnly.
    â€œThank heavens,” he said lightly and picked up her hand to brush her knuckles across his cheek. “If you were just like me, I wouldn’t be taking you home with me now, I can promise.”
    She smiled at him and relaxed, but the feeling returned again when they entered his house and he turned off an alarm.
    â€œGates, guards and alarms. You’re well-protected.”
    He shrugged. “This is a family home. Ninety percent of the time, no one lives here,” he said, taking her arm as he switched on a low light in the entryway.
    â€œI’m sorry you lost your parents,” she said, remembering headlines several years ago that had told about the plane crash in Denmark when his parents and six other Texans had been killed.
    â€œThanks. What about your parents?”
    â€œThey’re deceased,” she said stiffly, amazed again that he didn’t know about her mother. She had never known her father and wasn’t certain her mother even knew which man fathered her.
    Aaron had led her through a kitchen and down a wide hall into a large family room elegantly furnished with plush navy leather and deeply burnished cherrywood furniture. An immense redbrick fireplace was at one end of the room and a thick Oriental rug covered part of the polished oak floor. He crossed the room to the fireplace to start the fire and in minutes the logs blazed. Following him into the room, she wandered around to look at oil paintings of western scenes. When she glanced back at him, he’d shed his tux coat. As her gaze ran across his broad shoulders, she drew a deep breath. He removed his tie and unfastened his collar and there was something so personal in watching him shed part of his clothing, that her cheeks flushed.
    As soon as he moved to the bar, he glanced at her. “Wine, beer, whiskey, soda pop, what would you like to drink?”
    â€œWhite wine sounds fine,” she answered, watching his well-shaped hands move over sparkling crystal while she sat on a corner of the cool leather sofa. He joined her, handing her a glass. When he sat down, he raised his glass. “Here’s to tonight, the night we met, Pamela,” he said softly and his words were like a caress.
    While she smiled at him, she touched her glass lightly to his. “You think tonight is going to be memorable? You’re a sweet-talkin’ devil, Aaron Black. You’re dangerous,” she said, flirting with him and watching his green eyes sparkle. Yet even as she teased him, she had a feeling that his words, tonight, the night we met, would stick with her forever.
    â€œI’m dangerous? I think that’s good news,” he said, sipping his wine and setting it on the large glass and cherrywood table in front of them. He scooted closer to her and reached out, picking up locks of her hair and letting them slide through his fingers. She was too aware of his faint touches, his knuckles just barely brushing her throat and ear and cheek. “Now why am I dangerous?”
    â€œAll that fancy talking can turn a girl’s head mighty fast. Texas men are too good at it.”
    â€œAnd Texas women are the prettiest women in the world,” he said softly, his gaze running over her features.
    She laughed and set her wine on the table as she looked at him with amusement. His brows arched in question. “That is high-fallutin’ talkin’! I’m too tall, too freckled and there’s never been a time in my entire life that anyone told me what a beauty I am, so that’s a stretch, Aaron.”
    He didn’t smile in return which made her heart miss a beat, but he gazed at her solemnly while he stroked his fingers through her hair. “Maybe I see something others haven’t seen.”
    â€œOh, heavens, can you lay it on thick!”
    â€œJust telling the