Tycoon's Temptation: The Truth About the Tycoon / The Tycoon's Lady / HerTexan Tycoon

Darby laughed a little at that. “Are you kidding? Our mother doesn’t do hospitals, you know that. Not even for our dad. She’s staying at the house, though.”

“If Roth knew she was staying under his roof, he’d probably have another heart attack,” he said. Once Roth and Felicia Rutherford divorced, they’d never had another kind word to say about the other.

More than twenty years ago, yet neither one of his parents had managed to move on.

He gingerly rubbed the pain in his forehead and turned away from the view.

He was a fine one to judge others about moving on.

“Call me on my cell if anything changes.”

Darby promised to do so and hung up. She’d never have bought it if he’d claimed to be taking a vacation and it had been easy enough to convince her he was in Montana on business. Her interest in Rutherford Industries had always been minimal, and since she now lived in Minnesota with her husband, the five kids he’d come with plus the one they’d had together, that interest had decreased even further.

Only, now Darby was back in Louisville, staying by Roth’s hospital bedside. He knew she didn’t approve of him being absent right now even if she understood it to be business. But it was better if she didn’t know Dane’s real reason.

His sister had been through enough when it came to Dane’s quarry. Alan Michaels had kidnapped and tormented her when she was a child. He had no intention of telling her that the man was at large again. Hell, Roth had suffered a heart attack the same day he’d learned it.

Dane looked around the room. It wasn’t going to win any awards for spacious design, but it had the necessities and was appealing in a comfortable sort of way with its clean, light looks. The bed was wide enough, covered by a quilt that he figured was handmade, and there was a narrow desk and chair beneath the set of windows that overlooked the street.

He ached from head to toe and the bed looked inviting, but he had work to do. So he sat down in the chair and dealt with the phone messages. He called Wood and broke the news about the car. His friend mostly groaned. But since Wood already had three other Shelbys in his collection, he could afford the luxury of being patient for the repairs. Then Dane called Mandy Manning. The message he left on her voice mail was brief.

“I’m in Lucius. Call me.”

* * *

“I’m late, I’m late for a very important date.” The words echoed inside Hadley’s head as she hurried up the steps of Tiff’s. She’d spent an hour longer than she’d intended at the church, and had still had to stop off at the grocery store before going home.

Since sharing a table at Luscious with Wood Tolliver that morning, it’d taken her twice as long to accomplish everything she’d attempted, because her thoughts kept straying into foolish directions.

She’d mangled his car and that was that. She didn’t figure a man would be likely to overlook that particular detail.

She maneuvered the front door open with her two free fingertips, worked a foot inside, followed by her thigh, then hip.

“Here.”

She nearly jumped out of her skin when Wood seemed to appear out of nowhere on the step beside her, his hands easily plucking three of the bulky canvas bags out of her hands.

“Where do you want them?”

“Kitchen,” she said faintly. He was polite enough not to mention her gaping expression, and she was grateful for it.

He pushed open the door the rest of the way for her and waited. She could feel cold air rushing past her and she hurriedly closed her mouth and went inside.

He followed her into the kitchen and set his bags on the counter next to hers. Then she tried not to gape all over again when he tossed his jacket on the counter and—as if he’d been doing it for years—poured himself a mug of coffee. Well, she tried and failed, anyway, and managed to shake her head when he held up the mug, offering it to her first before lifting it to his own lips.

“You look surprised,” he said after a moment. He leaned his hip against the counter and smiled faintly. “Is it me drinking your coffee, or is it just me?”

Her oversize white mugs were eclipsed by his long fingers. His nails were clipped short and neat and she couldn’t imagine there ever being grease or dirt beneath them. He’d also changed out of the borrowed shirt, she noticed, and the gray one he now wore made his blue eyes seem less piercing but no less… arresting.

“I am,” she admitted belatedly. “Surprised you’re here, I mean.” The Lucius grapevine must have had a temporary power outage.

“Should I have gone elsewhere? You’re the one who suggested it.”

She had, in a minor fit of madness even though she’d never believed he would take her up on it. “The Lucius Inn might be more to your liking. They have room service, and satellite television and—”

“Now you’re making me feel unwelcome.”

“No!” Dismayed, her fingers crumpled the canvas bag she’d been unpacking. “I didn’t mean that at all. Of course you’re welcome here. It’s the least I can do. But, I just—”

“Hadley.”

“What?”

He set his mug down and leaned his arms on the

counter until his face was only a foot from hers. “I was kidding.”

She could see those small scars near his eye again. “Oh. Right.”

His mouth kicked up a little on one side and after a moment he straightened again, picking up the mug. “Got a lot of stuff there. Thought you were helping out your dad at his church this morning.”

She swallowed and diligently focused again on unpacking her purchases. “I was. I did. Then I went shopping.” Nothing like stating the obvious, Hadley. Her face felt hot. “I have another guest coming in this afternoon. She actually made the reservation a few weeks ago, which is pretty unusual for me. So I wanted to make it particularly special for her.”

Wood lifted a tissue-wrapped bundle of wild flowers from the smallest bag. “Nice.” He tipped the bundle toward his nose, smelling them. “You buy flowers for all your guests?”

Feeling like the biggest ninny on the planet, she cautiously slipped them out of his hand. “Not for the regulars.” If she were one of her characters that she wrote about, she’d have flirted outrageously with the man and had him falling over himself to win her heart.

Instead she retrieved a crystal vase from the breakfront and filled it with water, wishing that she could control the heat that filled her cheeks whenever she glanced his way.

He had to move out of her way for her to reach the sink, which he did, but not enough, and standing so near to him made her breath feel woefully short.

“Tiff’s used to really be a bed and breakfast, but since I’ve taken over we’ve become more of a boardinghouse.” She turned off the water and reached for the flowers again.

“Who ran it before you?”

“My mother, Holly.”

His eyebrows rose. “Holly. Golightly.”

His surprise was toned down more than the usual disbelief she’d heard most of her life and she found herself smiling a little. “I know. And, yes, her favorite movie was Breakfast at Tiffany’s with Audrey Hepburn. Mom wasn’t anything like the character Holly Golightly, though. Well, other than being a survivor.” She arranged the flowers and stepped back to study them.

“Pretty,” he murmured.

She nodded, her eyes still on the flowers.

“What happened to her?”

Hadley sighed a little. “She died when I was twenty. Cancer.”