The Texas Billionaire's Bride / The Texas Bodyguard's Proposal: The Texas Billionaire's Bride

Forgotten. Melanie knew exactly what that felt like—to live in a place where there were people crowded all around you, but you didn’t seem to exist in any significant way.

It was the last straw.

“Know what?” she said, tweaking Livie under the chin, trying to distract her, even though it was so tough, with her throat choking every word.

Livie’s mouth formed around a silent “What?” She was trying hard not to cry.

“I’m going to make sure you see your daddy soon,” Melanie said, skimming her fingers over the girl’s hair.

She heard Mrs. Howe gasp but ignored it, because Livie’s eyes had already gotten that gleam of hope in them, and Melanie would move mountains to make her promise come true.

Too late, she wondered if she was crossing a line—if this vow would get her fired. Flying in the face of Zane Foley’s wishes might take away all the security she’d won by landing this job.

But no one had been fighting for Livie.

“Really, Ms. Grandy?” the little girl asked, as if she couldn’t believe any promises when it came to her dad.

“Really.” Melanie stood, facing Mrs. Howe. “Father’s Day is just around the corner, isn’t it?”

She wasn’t so used to celebrating the holiday, but she knew it was sometime near mid-June.

“Ms. Grandy…” the manager began in a warning tone.

Brushing that aside, Melanie took Livie’s hand and squeezed it. “We’re going to make a present for him. And we’re going to be hand-delivering it.”

As Mrs. Howe closed her eyes and sighed, Melanie smiled down at her charge, who was already hopping up and down.

“Yay!” Livie danced in front of a cautious Mrs. Howe. “We’re going to Dallas!”

Yes, they were going to Dallas.

And somewhere in the back of Melanie’s mind, she realized that perhaps the trip was just as much for her to see Zane Foley as it was for Livie.

Even if it was a Saturday, it’d been a typically long day at the office for Zane: putting the finishing touches on acquiring an old, junky amusement park near San Antonio, with the intention of polishing it into a environmentally conscious spa complex; having yet another needless discussion with Judge Duarte about that state representative seat; hearing from Jason about how he’d met Penny McCord at that wedding this past weekend.

Zane showered and donned some sweats and a T-shirt. All the while he went over what his brother had told him about pouring the charm on Penny, as he’d tried to subtly coax any information he could about her family’s interest in Travis’s ranch. She hadn’t seemed to know much, and Jason hadn’t believed it, so he’d decided to pursue her further, perhaps through another “chance” meeting soon.

Truthfully, it’d all worn Zane out—maybe because, in spite of his support of the plan, it still wasn’t sitting well with him.

Then again, this had to do with the McCords, so all was fair.

Since he’d already had dinner at his downtown desk, he grabbed some paperwork about the Santa Magdalena shipwreck from his briefcase, then went to the living room and turned on the TV, thinking he would sit and read for a spell.

But he was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Zane looked at the clock on his DVR unit. 8:00 p.m.

Who the hell was paying a visit?

He set down the papers and went to the foyer, accessing the security video screen console that was hidden in a wall panel.

When he saw a hint of blond hair, his libido instinctively went wild because he’d been imagining that same light shade, plus a slender body and long legs, every night since he’d met Melanie Grandy.

And as his vision focused, allowing him to see the rest of her standing right there, in the flesh, in front of his door, the air deserted his lungs, stirring him up, electrifying him in a way he hadn’t felt for years.

He hadn’t had time for it, and business took up all his energies. Women had gotten him into too much trouble before, and staying away from them made life easier.

Didn’t it?

Angered at all the questions—and even more so at Melanie Grandy’s presence—he was about to press the security speaker and demand to know what she was doing here.

Then he spied Livie next to her nanny, holding Melanie Grandy’s hand, and paused.

Livie.

Guilt consumed him until he banished it, focusing instead on the anger because it was so much simpler to understand.

He unlocked the door, yanked it open, and the force of the motion made the warm air outside stir Melanie Grandy’s hair.

The soft-as-silk strands that he’d been fantasizing about…

“Hello,” she said as calmly as you please, with a polite smile to match.

But Livie’s grin was much more excited as she said, “Hi, Daddy!” and held up a light blue construction-paper card decorated with feathers and sequins and doodads.

It read “Happy Father’s Day!”

The sight almost brought him to his knees, and that made him even angrier.

Still, he gently took the card from Livie, giving her all he could with a half smile that he hoped expressed everything he wasn’t able to say out loud, because he knew emotions and investment in them would only backfire someday.

When he didn’t say anything else, Livie’s smile faltered.

Dammit. Dammit to hell.

But he didn’t know how else to handle her.

The helplessness got to him again, and he refocused his frustration on a less vulnerable target.

The nanny.

“I don’t remember arranging a trip out here,” he said, his teeth clenched because he was trying so hard to rein in his temper.

And his inadequacy as a father.

She didn’t back down even an inch. “Father’s Day is tomorrow, and we thought we’d wish you a happy one. Livie made you a gift, too.”

He could see the nanny squeeze his daughter’s hand, urging Livie to present a slim box to him. But the child seemed reluctant to do so after how he’d responded to her card.