His Texas Touch

“Whatever for?” He sounded incredulous.

“I think maybe Carson Arroyo had gripes with the Melendezes and the Rosses. Whatever it was, I’m betting it had something to do with his dad’s so-called suicide. Wade was working on that story in conjunction with John Holloway’s obit just before he died.”

Basil shook his head, obviously confused.

“Carson Arroyo was John Holloway’s son. Holloway was the Melendez employee who apparently killed himself after being fired.”

Basil returned to his seat, slowly easing down to the corner. “How do you know this?”

“Actually, it was Khouri and Setha who made the connection.” Avra faced her dad across the desk. She waited for the man’s reaction.

“Do the police know?”

She’d found what she’d come in search of. “It all came out when Carson was killed.” She nodded. “Maybe the cops can start putting it all together. In the meantime—” she slid off the desk and tugged on the hem of the satin blouse hanging outside her slacks “—I’m gonna do my part and dig some more. Maybe I can find a key to this mess.”

“I don’t want you involved.” The tightness of Basil’s voice matched his expression to perfection. “You have your own work to see to.”

“Oh, Daddy, it won’t interfere—”

“I said stay out of it.”

“Why?” Ever outspoken, she voiced the query with a frown.

Basil leaned forward. “Because I said so.”

“Dad.”

“You’re skating on the thinnest piece of ice now, miss.”

Understanding the warning, Avra barely nodded. She left the office soon after.

* * *

It went without saying that Avra was a million miles away in thought when she returned to her office. She muttered below her breath, talking about what she suspected and what she’d uncovered.

Her thumbnail was raking her chin when she strolled through her door, never noticing Samson Melendez sitting behind her desk. She was standing before him on the other side of the cluttered oak top, observing him blankly for several seconds before tuning in to what was really going on.

Sam hid his smile, fingers laced in his lap while he reared back in her chair and watched the absent look on her face change into one of scathing speculation.

“Afternoon,” he greeted before she could open her mouth to blast him.

“What are you doing in here?” She looked back quickly to check on the notes she’d recovered from Wade’s. They appeared to be untouched. Propping one hand to her hip, she fixed Sam with an expectant stare.

Sam, however, was in no hurry to explain, happy to keep her standing there for his appraisal. Of course when Samson Melendez appraised, a woman was left with no doubts as to what he was doing. Sam’s usual “appraisal,” however, was most often a purely physical observation of the woman he intended on taking to bed. Rarely did those observations involve emotional attachment.

Sam recognized it, though. As he observed the tall, dark chocolate beauty before the desk, he knew that emotions had definitely attached themselves. His constant appraisal of Avra Ross had finally carried things to a purely irresistible level. Not until she called—er—yelled his name, did he blink. Smoothly, he recalled his real reason for dropping by that afternoon.

“Kemah trip’s been scheduled. We should discuss the itinerary.” Sam referred to the scouting trip to locations for new MM ads in the Ross Review.

Avra lifted her hands briefly and let them hit her thighs with a soft clap. “Is your wireless service down, Sam? A call, email or text would’ve been just fine for this talk—better, actually.”

“Why better?” Sam grimaced, unaware that he was doing so.

Avra watched him as though he were losing his mind in front of her. “Samson, if somebody was using our names in the same sentence, chances were they’d be recapping a fight.”

Laughter roused hearty and long from Sam then. Avra bristled, feeling herself react to the sound in a way that wasn’t altogether unpleasant. When he stood behind her desk, she covertly appraised the stunning breadth of him. She wondered, as she often did, whether he was really that…massive. Perhaps it was merely a trick of finely crafted clothing, she thought eyeing the dark olive three-piece.

She’d collected herself and smothered her admiration by the time he stood before her.

“We leave in three days,” he was saying.

“What about the wedding?”

“We’ll be back in plenty of time.” He gave a quick, light shake of his head. “Bride and groom want this thing in the bag. Least we can do since they worked so hard to take care of what we couldn’t.”

“You know, one of my staff could give the okay on this location stuff just as well as I can.”

“Not good enough.”

“Look, Sam—”

“Come with me or the agreement’s null.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I can’t believe you’d stoop so low.”

“Sure you can.”

Avra looked down at the carpet where she stabbed it with the heel of her lavender pump. “There’s something you enjoy about giving me a hard time, isn’t there?”

Appearing to contemplate her words, Sam tapped his fingers to the seductive curve of his mouth and smiled faintly.

Avra felt helpless to direct her gaze away from the gesture.

“I think you’re right,” he muttered.

“That’s a first.”

Any more that she might have said was silenced when his mouth crashed down on hers and he proceeded to kiss her hungrily. Resisting never occurred to Avra. She was determined to find out whether or not his build was credited to great tailoring or genetics.

Quickly she discovered it was all him. Heatedly she participated in the kiss, caressing his tongue over and under as she moaned unashamed.

Eventually it was Sam who pulled back, but only briefly. When he spied the wetness on her mouth, he couldn’t resist another taste of her.

Faintly—very faintly—Avra realized she wasn’t refusing him. She didn’t want to refuse. Sam realized it, as well. Big hands cupping her delicate face, he drove his tongue deeper, craving more of her unique taste.

He ordered his need to cool and broke the kiss, stroking the tips of his thumbs across her moist, swollen lips. He waited until she brought her eyes to his. The smile he directed her way wasn’t gloating, but tender. “I’m gonna have to work on changing your perception of me.” He left her alone soon after.

Dazedly Avra stumbled back to her desk and leaned on one corner. It was some time before her breathing slowed.