A Lone Star Love Affair / Falling for the Princess: A Lone Star Love Affair / Falling for the Princess

“Never,” she whispered, her actions negating her words as she stood on tiptoe and pulled his head down again to kiss him. She felt starved for his kisses, as if no time had passed between that spring night with him and now. Remembering his lean, muscular body, his broad shoulders and hard masculinity, she longed for what she could not have. A night she thought she was beginning to forget poured back, vividly clear.

“Tony, we have to stop,” she whispered, even though her actions denied her words as she pulled him close to continue kissing him.

“Why?” he responded before her lips were on his and they kissed again. Passion blazed, consuming protests and reason.

Tony’s kisses were beyond dreams, building excitement with lightning speed.

Dimly, she thought she should tell him again to stop, but the notion was fleeting. Giving herself, taking all he gave, she kissed him. She thrust her hips against him, feeling his thick erection, knowing he wanted her and was ready.

Feeling lost in a dizzying spiral, she finally summoned her willpower and stopped. “Tony, that’s it,” she gasped. She struggled for breath while her heart pounded and her body was on fire for his hands and mouth and loving.

With half-lidded eyes, he gazed at her, brushing long locks of her hair back from her face.

“That got out of hand,” she managed to say.

“Not really. We only kissed a few times.”

It wasn’t only. His kisses had been earthshaking, seductive.

He held her waist. “You’re special, Isabelle.”

Her heartbeat quickened yet more. Words to wrap around her heart and make it captive. “Tonight was a celebration, Tony. I had a wonderful time and thank you. I suppose I’ll see you at the office this week.”

“Not this week, because I leave town,” he said, his fingers caressing her throat.

“Thanks and good night,” she said softly, looking into eyes filled with yearning.

“It was a special evening,” he said. He swept her into his arms and kissed her hard. Startled, for an instant she froze. It was only seconds, and then she returned his kiss until he released her, watching her intently with both satisfaction and need.

“Until later,” he said quietly. He left, closing the door. The lock clicked in place. She looked out the window. Tony was already on his cell phone, his long legs carrying him swiftly to the limo.

“You’re a workaholic,” she whispered, thinking about the calls he had received. The head of an empire, wanting to keep in touch with his business at all times.

In seconds the limo’s red taillights disappeared around a curve in the driveway. She switched off the hall lights and stood in the darkened entryway. Her mouth was dry, and her body was on fire. She wanted him with an intensity that shocked her.

“Good night, Tony. Sexy man,” she said, relishing memories of the evening. For the next few hours she was going to pretend Tony was just another guy she worked with and enjoy replaying the night in her mind. Tomorrow she could return to reality. The man was her employer. He was obsessed with work, chasing a goal of billionaire by forty. His true love was power. He would avoid commitment. She had to refuse his next invitation or kiss her own dreams and goals goodbye. She had to resist his kisses, resist him, remember to keep up her guard. Too much was at stake to get deeply involved with him. She promised herself she would hold her own goals always in sight.

At least until her next encounter with Tony.

Four

Tony entered the walnut-paneled study at his parents’ mansion to greet his father, looking into brown eyes as dark as his own. It was a typical Sunday evening with a quiet house, the staff at a minimum, his mother at a friend’s playing bridge. “You called and wanted to see me. What’s up?”

“First, let me pour you a glass of wine. Have a seat.” “Make it a small amount,” Tony said, not interested in wine, but aware it would please his father if he would sit and have a drink with him. Tony took a business call while Grant Ryder poured two goblets with white wine from a crystal decanter. He carried one to Tony, who replaced his phone. “How was the Morris party?”

“Fine. Everything went smoothly. I think the transition will be easy.”

“You achieved the impossible, Tony, getting Morris to retire.” “I think he was ready and wanted to retire. I was in the right place at the right time.”

“Don’t be modest. It gets you nowhere.” Grant sipped his drink and lowered his glass. “Where’s your sister? Your mother and I haven’t been able to get in touch with her and she hasn’t returned our calls.” Grant turned to face his son.

“I think Sydney is studying,” Tony said.

“When did you last talk to her?”

“Yesterday, as a matter of fact.”

“She has as much told me that she doesn’t care what I threaten, she’ll see who she wants to see,” Grant said, his thick dark eyebrows emphasizing his frown. It always surprised Tony that he was over four inches taller than his father. When he was a child, he thought his father was extremely tall.

Tony nodded. “I’m not surprised.”

“She’s talked to you, hasn’t she?”

“Yes. You know she usually does,” he said, knowing from past experience his father was growing more angry. His words became clipped.

“Six months ago I would have urged you to try to persuade her to drop that Dylan person. Now I suspect it might be useless to try to ask you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“You’re right,” Tony remarked with a faint smile, surprised his dad was even hinting at defeat in his attempts to control.

“So, it comes to that. I was afraid it might because you’ve always been strong-willed.” His father sat in a chair and swirled his wine, looking at it for a long time before he sipped.

“Well, you’ve acquired sufficient wealth to ignore my influence in your life,” Grant continued. “I could threaten to disinherit you as I have Sydney, but I’m afraid at this point, you would pay no heed. You’ll do as you damn please because you don’t need my money.”

“That’s right, Dad. It’s worth every hour of work I put in,” Tony admitted, relishing the feeling of being free from his father’s attempts to dominate his life. He sat relaxed, enjoying the moment he had relished for years.

“You don’t need to look so smug,” Grant grumbled. He shook his head. “I’ve met my match in my son. If I have to meet it, I can’t think of anyone else I would prefer to best me.”

“I wasn’t trying to ‘best you.’ I just want to live the way I want to live.”

“So what do you think of this artist, this Dylan ‘someone’ your sister thinks she is in love with?”

“First, my sister probably knows whether or not she is really in love with Dylan. Next, my opinion of Dylan—he’s a nice guy. From all indications, he’s good at what he does. What’s more important, I trust Sydney’s judgment, Dad. Dylan hasn’t had the advantages I had or you had. Sydney is bright and sharp. Frankly, if I were you, I would trust Sydney’s judgment.”

“Love is blind, Tony. We don’t want Sydney to ruin her life.”

“Chances are, she won’t.”

“How do you know this fellow isn’t after Sydney’s money? Someday she will be immensely wealthy. That may be his reason for showering his attention and affection on her. Have either of you considered that possibility?”

“Again, I trust her judgment. Besides, Dylan has told her he doesn’t want to ruin her life, so he doesn’t think they should see each other anymore. He’s sticking by that and he wants to cut all ties. Sydney does not want him to. You’ll have to admit that’s someone who is putting Sydney first.”

“Damn smoke screen. I doubt if he means it. It sounds good, but wait and both of you will see. My guess is that he will let her talk him into coming back into her life.”

“Maybe,” Tony said. “Time will tell on that one.”

“I’m glad he’s done this for now, but I don’t expect it to last. She can’t put herself through medical school,” his father remarked dryly. “I do have leverage with her even if I don’t with you.”

“No, Sydney can’t put herself through school, but I can help her,” Tony said, savoring the moment. His father’s head whipped around and his eyes narrowed.