World's Most Eligible Texan

“I haven’t spotted your date hovering over you.”

She’d laughed. “You won’t. I’m here with Thad Delner, my principal. I teach second grade at Royal Elementary, and Thad has been recently widowed. He had an invitation for tonight, and thought he needed to attend briefly to represent Royal Elementary, so he asked if I would like to come along. I’ve never been to one of these balls before.”

“Well, since no date will be breathing down my neck—want to dance?”

When she’d nodded, he’d taken her arm to steer her to the dance floor and then she was closer than ever to him, aware of the cottony scent of his stiffly starched shirt, his cologne. Her fingers brushed his neck as she put her arm on his shoulder to dance. His hand holding hers was warm. They moved together as if they had danced with each other forever.

His cheekbones were prominent and his lower lip full, sensual. She realized she was staring at his mouth, and her gaze flew back up to meet his. She saw fires in the depth of his emerald eyes. Once again her gaze was caught and held by his and conversation fled while her heart drummed. As the moment stretched, making her breathless, tension crackled between them. With an effort of will she looked away.

“Tell me about your life, Pamela,” he said. “You’re here with your principal. Does this mean there’s no guy in your life right now?”

“Yes, it does. I lead an ordinary teacher’s life except I’m going to Asterland in two days as an exchange teacher.”

“You’re the one!” Aaron’s eyebrow arched, and he tilted his head as he leaned away slightly to study her. “This is my lucky day. I’m with the American Embassy in Spain. On weekends we can see each other,” he said with a warmth in his voice that sent a tingle through her. “Lucky Asterland. It’s a pretty place. Very different from West Texas,” he drawled.

She laughed. “I’d imagined that.”

She’d listened to him talk as they danced through two more dances, and then his arm had tightened and they were dancing cheek-to-cheek and her pulse was racing.

She’d danced once with Matt Walker, an old friend and one of the local ranchers, and then Aaron was back, claiming her for another dance. And she was aware of other women watching Aaron, and she knew they wanted to be dancing with him, and she could understand why they did. As they’d spun around the floor to a fast number, she looked at women in fancy gowns they had bought for thousands of dollars in elegant boutiques here in Royal or in stores in Dallas and Houston while she was in her simple black sheath she had purchased for a little over fifty dollars. She was amazed that Aaron was dancing with her—amazed and glad. And in some ways, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to be in his arms, moving with him, looking into his green eyes.

After an hour, between dances, Thad Delner had joined them. As soon as she introduced him to Aaron, Thad had turned to her to tell her he was ready to leave. Before he could finish, Aaron broke in.

“I’ll take Pamela home, Mr. Delner. I’m glad you brought her.”

Thad Delner’s blue eyes focused on her with a questioning look. “Is that all right with you, Pamela?”

She’d nodded, breathless, amazed Aaron was offering to take her home “Yes, it’s fine,” she said, looking at Aaron, whose rugged handsomeness made her heart race.

“All right. You two go back to your dancing. I’ll talk to you before you leave for Asterland, Pamela.”

“Thanks for bringing me, Thad,” she’d said and then she was back in Aaron’s arms to dance again.

When he’d invited her to come by his house for a drink, and she’d accepted, the dreamlike quality of the evening continued. At Pine Valley, an exclusive area of fine homes, Aaron slowed for large iron gates to open. As a gate swung back, he drove past it and waved at the guard.

The stately mansions sobered her. The lawns were vast and well-cared-for, the houses imposing, and his world of wealth and privilege seemed light years from her world of teaching and budgeting and ordinary living.

“Why so quiet?” Aaron asked. The lights of the dash threw the flat planes of his cheeks into shadow. When he looked at her, she could feel his probing look. Handsome, dashing, he was incredibly unique.

“I was just thinking about the differences in our lives,” she said, looking at the palatial Georgian-style houses with sweeping, constantly tended lawns. “We’re very different, you and I,” she said solemnly.

“Thank heavens,” he said lightly and picked up her hand to brush her knuckles across his cheek. “If you were just like me, I wouldn’t be taking you home with me now, I can promise.”

She smiled at him and relaxed, but the feeling returned again when they entered his house and he turned off an alarm.

“Gates, guards and alarms. You’re well-protected.”

He shrugged. “This is a family home. Ninety percent of the time, no one lives here,” he said, taking her arm as he switched on a low light in the entryway.

“I’m sorry you lost your parents,” she said, remembering headlines several years ago that had told about the plane crash in Denmark when his parents and six other Texans had been killed.

“Thanks. What about your parents?”

“They’re deceased,” she said stiffly, amazed again that he didn’t know about her mother. She had never known her father and wasn’t certain her mother even knew which man fathered her.

Aaron had led her through a kitchen and down a wide hall into a large family room elegantly furnished with plush navy leather and deeply burnished cherrywood furniture. An immense redbrick fireplace was at one end of the room and a thick Oriental rug covered part of the polished oak floor. He crossed the room to the fireplace to start the fire and in minutes the logs blazed. Following him into the room, she wandered around to look at oil paintings of western scenes. When she glanced back at him, he’d shed his tux coat. As her gaze ran across his broad shoulders, she drew a deep breath. He removed his tie and unfastened his collar and there was something so personal in watching him shed part of his clothing, that her cheeks flushed.

As soon as he moved to the bar, he glanced at her. “Wine, beer, whiskey, soda pop, what would you like to drink?”

“White wine sounds fine,” she answered, watching his well-shaped hands move over sparkling crystal while she sat on a corner of the cool leather sofa. He joined her, handing her a glass. When he sat down, he raised his glass. “Here’s to tonight, the night we met, Pamela,” he said softly and his words were like a caress.

While she smiled at him, she touched her glass lightly to his. “You think tonight is going to be memorable? You’re a sweet-talkin’ devil, Aaron Black. You’re dangerous,” she said, flirting with him and watching his green eyes sparkle. Yet even as she teased him, she had a feeling that his words, tonight, the night we met, would stick with her forever.

“I’m dangerous? I think that’s good news,” he said, sipping his wine and setting it on the large glass and cherrywood table in front of them. He scooted closer to her and reached out, picking up locks of her hair and letting them slide through his fingers. She was too aware of his faint touches, his knuckles just barely brushing her throat and ear and cheek. “Now why am I dangerous?”

“All that fancy talking can turn a girl’s head mighty fast. Texas men are too good at it.”

“And Texas women are the prettiest women in the world,” he said softly, his gaze running over her features.

She laughed and set her wine on the table as she looked at him with amusement. His brows arched in question. “That is high-fallutin’ talkin’! I’m too tall, too freckled and there’s never been a time in my entire life that anyone told me what a beauty I am, so that’s a stretch, Aaron.”

He didn’t smile in return which made her heart miss a beat, but he gazed at her solemnly while he stroked his fingers through her hair. “Maybe I see something others haven’t seen.”

“Oh, heavens, can you lay it on thick!”

“Just telling the truth,” he drawled and smiled a lazy smile at her.

They were in dangerous waters and she glanced around, trying to get the conversation less personal. “If no one lives here most of the time, who takes care of your house?” she asked, looking at the immaculate room.

“We have a staff,” he answered casually without taking his eyes from hers. His fingers stroked her nape in featherlight brushes that ignited fires deep within her. His voice was low. The only light now was from the blazing fire, and there was a cozy intimacy that was made electric by his nearness. “Why are you a teacher?”

“I love children,” she answered, and he nodded his approval. “I feel strongly that all children should be able to read, so I like working with them, particularly in reading. I never had any family. Maybe that’s why I feel the way I do about kids. Why did you want to be a diplomat?”

“Everything about it fascinated me,” he said quietly, his green gaze studying her as if he were memorizing every feature. “I thought I could help save the world when I went into it.”

“And now?”

“Now I know that’s an impossibility. The old world will keep turning no matter what I do. There will always be wars and intrigue, and now, more than ever, terrorism.”

“You sound disenchanted.”

“Not tonight. Tonight is good,” he said, giving her a heated, direct look that blatantly conveyed his desire.

“Behave yourself, Aaron! You do come on strong.”

“You won’t believe me, but I don’t usually.” As she smiled, he touched her cheek. “Dimples. You have to have been told your dimples are pretty.”

“Maybe so,” she said. “Tell me about Spain.”