Texas Christmas

As he accepted the hat, there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes. “No problem.”

His brow furrowed, and his gaze searched her face.

Oh, no, here it comes. She braced herself.

“I’m Rob Macintyre. Have we met?”

Okay, not as bad as what she’d feared. But she needed to nip this in the bud. “No, I don’t think so, but it’s a pleasure meeting you now.”

Her brain raced as she tried to think of a diversion, a way to change the subject without being rude or, worse yet, antagonistic.

It was only a three-hour flight from New York to Dallas, but it could feel like an eternity if things got out of hand.

Thank goodness the flight attendants began their demonstration on the hows and whys of the emergency exits and oxygen masks. Rob...what did he say his last name was? Macintyre, right.

Rob Macintyre... It did sound a little familiar... Hmmm...

Anyway, Rob Macintyre turned his attention to the safety instructions, and Pepper adjusted her seat belt and settled back into her seat.

Then it hit her—Robert Macintyre?

Of course. She stole another glance at him to make sure she had the right guy. With his square jaw and sculpted cheekbones, his profile was just as handsome as his face was full-on. Not only was he one of the youngest oil barons in Texas, but he was also the enigma of the Dallas social scene; at the top of everyone’s guest list but always declining invitations.

No one could figure out why he was so antisocial, and that made him all the more appealing. Pepper had never met him personally—until today, and he certainly seemed anything but antisocial—but everyone in Dallas knew of him. And why not? He was young, rich, single and gorgeous.

He caught her staring and she looked away, only to glance back a moment later to have the same thing happen again.

Pepper felt heat ignite in her décolletage and begin to trail its way up her neck to her cheeks. With hopes that he wouldn’t notice, she bent down and picked up her purse, and to have something to do—and to keep herself from looking at him—she rifled through her handbag.

When she came across the box of chocolates that Maya had given her before she left St. Michel, she took it out of her purse, removed the lid and offered Rob one of the truffles. “As a thank-you for helping me with my bag,” she said.

He regarded the box, then looked up at her. Suddenly, she wasn’t quite sure what had compelled her to share her chocolate treasures, limited as they were. Of course, she didn’t need to eat a dozen truffles, but she hadn’t really planned on giving them away, either. Not until she found herself offering them to her seatmate. Oh, well, it was too late to withdraw the offer, especially after he said, “Thanks, those look delicious.”

As he bit into the candy, she decided that if he did figure out who she was—the same way it had dawned on her who he was—at least he couldn’t say she wasn’t nice to him. After all, she had shared her chocolate.

Yep, when all else failed, bribe ’em with chocolate. That was definitely becoming her motto.

“I’m sorry, you’ll need to stow your purse under the seat in front of you,” said the flight attendant. “We will be taking off momentarily.”

Pepper complied, and much to her relief, she and Robert carried on an easy, nonconfrontational conversation—talking about everything and nothing, steering clear of the personal—for the entire trip as the Boeing 757 carried them through the night from New York to the Dallas/Fort Worth airport.

* * *

After the plane landed, Robert retrieved Pepper’s carry-on, setting it down for her so that all she had to do was wheel it off the plane.

“Hey, it was really nice talking to you,” he said.

“It was,” she agreed. “I really enjoyed it.” She paused, hoping he would ask for her number, even though the last thing she needed right now was a new man in her life. But as she stared up at him as he casually stood in the aisle, leaning in toward her with his elbow braced on the back of the seat—good body language—she decided she could make exceptions for Robert Macintyre.

But he didn’t ask for it. Instead, he gestured to her with his hat and said, “Take care.”

Momentary disappointment washed over her, through her. But then she bucked up and reminded herself how busy she was going to be for the foreseeable future.

It was for the best.

But he was so darn gorgeous.

Oh, well.

She made her way off the plane and into the terminal. She just had to pick up her luggage at baggage claim, and then a taxi would take her home where she could sleep in her own bed for the first time in two weeks. If seeing Robert Macintyre again wasn’t an option, that sounded like the next most heavenly prospect.

“Hey, I know you,” said an unfamiliar, belligerent voice behind her.

Pepper tensed but kept walking without looking back. The voice didn’t belong to Robert Macintyre. She knew that without turning around. This man sounded much gravellier and quarrelsome. The person might not even be talking to her.

Just keep walking.

But then there was a hand on her arm. “Hey, I’m talking to you.”

Pepper turned around to the pig-nosed, scarlet face of a man who had to weigh at least three hundred pounds. He seemed as wide as he was tall. His breath was an alcoholic cloud, and his eyes were hooded and bloodshot. She sidestepped out of his grasp and wheeled her carry-on between them. As if that would help.

She looked around the terminal, but it was mostly empty. At this late hour the only life seemed to be the janitorial staff and other passengers who were disembarking from the flight she’d been on, and they seemed not to notice—or not to care—that the drunk man was hassling her.

“You’re the daughter of that Merriweather bastard, aren’t you?”

“Sir, it’s late. I’m sorry, I need to go meet the person who is picking me up.”

The taxi driver could wait all night, of course, but Mr. Drunk-and-Nasty didn’t need to know that. Pepper turned and tried to walk away.

“I’m not finished with you,” the man yelled after her. “Your daddy stole my money, little girl. Every single cent of my savings and retirement. But you were sitting up there like a princess in first class, weren’t you?”

Pepper was paralyzed and nauseated. Rooted to the spot. She wanted to tell him No, you’re mistaken. It’s all a big misunderstanding that will be sorted out once my father gets his day in court. But the words wouldn’t leave her throat.

“How do you sleep at night living like royalty when I may not even be able to feed my family?” The man reached out and shoved Pepper and she landed against something firm and warm. In a similar motion as he had handled her carry-on, Robert Macintyre whisked Pepper behind him and was staring down the man.

“Did you hear the lady, sir?” The emphasis in the way he said sir was less polite and more of a power play. It helped that Robert seemed to hulk and tower over the squat man. “She needs to leave now. She has people waiting for her. It’s rude to keep people waiting. So don’t detain her and everything will be fine. Okay?”

The man didn’t say anything else. He simply turned and staggered toward the exit and the small crowd of onlookers that had gathered after Robert had confronted the man began to disperse.

When most everyone was out of sight, Pepper started shaking, but she finally found her voice.

“Thank you for that,” she said meekly. “I had really hoped there wouldn’t be any trouble. But...”

She braced herself for the inevitable request for an explanation, but all Rob said was, “I will stay with you until you meet whoever is picking you up.”

“Thank you, but that’s not necessary. I still have to go to baggage claim. Security will be there. I should be fine. But thank you.”

“I’ll go with you to baggage claim. That guy seemed pretty looped. I don’t want you to take a chance.”