A Fortunes Of Texas Christmas

“Oh my goodness,” Kate said, peering over her shoulder. “Are those what I think they are?”

Robin nodded and pulled her hand away. “Yes, I think they’re exactly what they look like.”

Glass slippers.

They were exquisite. She picked one up and held it up to the light, mesmerized by the way it shimmered. It was ridiculous. And at the same time, utterly romantic. Perhaps the most romantic gesture of her life.

“Are you planning on wearing them?”

It was so ridiculous that Robin couldn’t stop laugher from bubbling low in her throat. “He’s out of his mind.”

“He?” Kate echoed. “So you know who sent them?”

She nodded and grabbed the card, pulling out a small square of cardboard and reading his dark, sexy scrawl.

I’m not a prince... I’m just a man who knows what he wants. Have dinner with me?

“Robin?”

Kate’s voice jerked her back from fairy-tale land and forced her to regather her wits. “I’m sorry about this.”

“Would you like to tell me what’s going on?” Kate asked.

Robin sighed. “It’s Mr. Beaudin’s idea of a joke, that’s all.”

The older woman’s frown disappeared, and then she chuckled. “Amersen, I see. Looks as though you made quite the impression.”

“He thinks he’s too charming to resist.”

“And is he?” Kate inquired, brows angled.

“In his dreams, maybe. I’m really sorry about this,” she said, embarrassed and increasingly uncomfortable. She didn’t want her personal life intruding on her work. And she didn’t want Kate Fortune to think that she was in any way involved with Amersen Beaudin. “I’ll make sure nothing like this happens again.”

Kate waved a hand. “There’s no harm done, Robin. Just...be careful, okay. By all accounts, Amersen has something of a wild reputation when it comes to women. I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

Robin managed a brittle laugh. “Don’t worry about that. I have absolutely no intention of getting involved with him.”

“Good,” Kate said and smiled. “Sometimes it’s easy to get swept up in romantic gestures.” She pointed to the slippers. “Although they are quite spectacular.”

Robin nodded in a vague way. “I’ll ask Otis to help me get rid of the pumpkin,” she said, feeling ludicrous having to say such a thing as she snatched up the box and card.

“It might make a nice Christmas decoration,” Kate said and grinned. “Or a pie.”

Robin chuckled. “Good idea.”

“And what girl hasn’t wanted a pair of glass slippers at least once in her life.”

She couldn’t help laughing brittlely as she left the room and then got back to work. Later, once she had the pumpkin and the slippers stowed inside her pickup, it was close to one thirty. She always finished early on Wednesdays and was glad to be heading home by two o’clock. Once she was inside, she dumped the pumpkin on the kitchen table alongside the shoe box.

And she seethed. She paced and cursed and muttered words she knew were usually heard in bar brawls. And she played with the business card twisting between her fingertips. He’d embarrassed her in front of her employer. And worse, he had made it impossible for her to not think about him every single minute of the day.

Damn him...

It was payback time. If he wanted dinner, she’d give him dinner. She’d give him a dinner he wouldn’t forget in a hurry. The kind of dinner that would make a womanizing, commitmentphobic man like Amersen Beaudin run a mile. Robin grabbed her cell and quickly dialed the number before she had a chance to talk herself out of her craziness.

“Hello.”

God, his voice was like being stroked along the spine with a feather.

“Okay...dinner,” she said quietly. “But on my terms.”

“Robin.” He said her name on a breath. “It’s good to hear from you.”

“My place,” she said and swiftly rattled off the address, specifics and directions. “Four o’clock.”

Then she hung up before he could reply. And before she lost her nerve.

* * *

Amersen was intrigued by Robin’s rushed request. And as he drove the BMW through a set of wide whitewashed gates and down the long gravel driveway later that afternoon, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so keen to spend time with a woman.

Of course, logically, he knew he was being foolish. He’d come to Austin for business. Not pleasure. But hell would freeze before he’d miss out on a chance to see Robin Harbin again. Particularly on her turf.

Still, he figured he was savvy enough to be able to mix business and a little pleasure without one overtaking the other. He had another meeting scheduled with Kate the following day and then a tour of the Fortune Cosmetics headquarters booked for the afternoon. He’d agreed to the tour only because he’d discovered that Graham Fortune Robinson was out of the city for a few days. He had no intention of meeting any of his half siblings while he was still considering Kate’s offer. There was time for that later. Much later. Maybe never. The more time he spent in Austin, the less inclined he was to dig any deeper into his family background. And since Gerald Robinson had never made any attempt to contact him, Amersen figured he was better off not getting involved any more than he already was.

Which meant he had more time to concentrate on Kate’s business proposal.

And Robin.

He eased the car to a halt, recalling the directions Robin had confirmed via text message. She lived in the small cottage behind the larger house, which was owned by her parents. The ranch house was nowhere near as large and imposing as the Fortune estate, but the place was tidy and looked well cared for. Amersen got out of the rental car and locked the door. He heard a dog bark and looked around, spotting a lazy-looking yellow hound peering at him from the side of the barn. There were chickens pecking the ground and a few head of cattle grazing in the paddocks to the right of the main house. He walked up to the cottage and noticed a note pinned to the door.

A. Meet me in the barn. R.

He grinned. It was cute. She was playing with him, and he liked it. The dog watched him as he walked toward the barn and then headed through the doors. There were horse stalls on either side, and Amersen saw her the moment he entered. She stood at the end of a row of stalls, pushing hay into a net. Wearing jeans, a pale chambray shirt, a sheepskin jacket and her purple cowboy boots, she was undeniably sexy.

“Have you ditched the limo?” she asked without turning, and he figured she must have watched him drive up to the house.

Amersen moved beside her. “I generally like to drive myself around.”

She looked sideways. “Texas is a big place. Don’t get lost.”

He grinned. “I’m sure I could rely on you to come and find me if I lost my way.”

She made a scoffing sound. “I think I’d just let you keep driving.”

“You know,” he said softly, trying to ignore the way his palms itched with a sudden need to touch her, “I don’t really think that you would.”

“That’s because you don’t know me in the least, Mr. Beaudin,” she shot back hotly.