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

As he entered the mansion, his thoughts returned to earlier and Isabelle Smith. He wanted to see her again. He definitely would have an interview with her. Since he’d acquired Morris, three executives had resigned. He guessed from her frosty manner that she was going to resign, too. It was a plus-minus prospect. He wanted her to stay. On the other hand, if she didn’t, it might be less complicated to see her socially.

Now he was looking forward to Thursday evening’s reception more than before.

Two

Isabelle gripped the steering wheel tightly. Her insides knotted. Tony Ryder was a page out of her past. He obviously had not remembered her, and nothing about her had jogged his memory. A night she wished she could forget. The most passionate night of her life, and one that she had never been able to understand.

A singular time in which she had acted in a totally uncustomary fashion. Had it been Tony who had triggered her responses? The spring night? The looming end of the semester? She could never account for her actions to herself.

One thing remained the same—the white-hot, sizzling attraction experienced by both of them. Even though she had tried to keep from responding in even the slightest manner to his magnetism tonight, she’d failed. He had felt the same witchery, revealing his responses in small ways.

His riveting looks and commanding presence made him larger-than-life to her. It was impossible to see him in any ordinary manner. When they were together, she could feel the rising heat they generated. The man probably went through life getting everything he wanted. Between his money, his looks, his background, his sharp mind—how could he fail in any undertaking?

She wanted him out of her life and she definitely wanted away from him. She hoped she’d have a new job and be gone from Morris without Tony having a clue who she was. No way did she want to work for Tony Ryder. Tony was clearly not into commitment and she was. She had read about him on business pages. He was a workaholic and obviously avoided long-term relationships. As she approached each birthday now, her yearning for a family and a love she could trust increased. She wanted a lifelong relationship while Tony did not have even long-term relationships.

She had told Tony she would attend the company party, but now she had second thoughts.

Finally at home, Isabelle turned on Beethoven, showered and changed into pajamas, and poured a tall glass of cold milk. She couldn’t shake thoughts of Tony and their encounter tonight. Tony Ryder was even more handsome and appealing than he had been the night she had met him when she had been in college.

How could he forget someone he had slept with? It had been such a passionate night. She grew warmer just thinking about it before making an effort to put those memories firmly out of mind.

Of all people to buy out Morris Enterprises.

Mr. Morris had planned to work four more years and then sell the company when Tony had come along with a dream offer. How she wished Tony had found other interests. Four more years with Morris would have been great. Now her future was uncertain. She had to start fresh with a new company. She would lose clients and accounts she knew well.

When she had started at Morris, she had thought the company would never change hands. The original shipping business had started with the trucking company in the 1920s. In 1946, Morris opened the first hotel. Within two years it had become a Texas chain, and in a few more years, a national chain. As the company had continued to grow, the word with employees was that the Morrises would never sell. Until the current Morris, whose only son was immersed in the Beltway political scene. After Morris’s daughter married a jet-setting Frenchman, she no longer had interest in the family business.

Change happened, especially nowadays when companies changed hands with the right offer. Probably due to her awards, the recognition she had received for achievements in her field, plus the large number of companies she had dealt with because of her job with Morris, she had three excellent job offers to consider.

Thursday night she would put in an appearance, speak to Mr. Morris, as well as those she was close to at Morris, and then leave. She didn’t care to schmooze with Tony.

She sat down at the kitchen table with her milk and the file of papers from businesses that had made her offers. She had them in order of preference with first choice Tralear Hotels, Incorporated, the hotel chain where Vernon Irwin, the former president of Morris, was going. Vernon wanted her, as well as five other Morris employees, to move with him and he had made her a highly tempting offer.

She had to get away from Morris before Tony realized who she was.

When she went to bed, she had dreams about Tony Ryder. One of her first thoughts on waking in the faintly gray dawn—would Tony remember who she was? Even more unsettling—how would she say no to him when she remembered what it was like to be with him?

On Thursday, Tony entered the luxurious reception room on the top floor of the Morris building. A piano player provided background music and a buffet of hors d’oeuvres were on tables scattered along three walls. A crowd had already gathered. As his eyes swept the room, disappointment ruled, because he did not see Isabelle.

He spotted the table with Seymour Morris and Vernon Irwin, who had already taken another job as president of Tralear Hotels, Incorporated, a fast-growing hotel chain. Three vice presidents who were still on the Morris payroll were also at the table. Casually looking for Isabelle, Tony crossed the room to greet the former CEO and each executive.

“Join us, Tony. You can humor an old man and sit for a spell.”

“I’d be glad to,” Tony said, smiling at the white-headed CEO. “I’ve looked forward to getting to meet more Morris people.”

“Excellent. We’ll introduce you and your executive staff in an informal manner shortly. I’ll officially turn everything over to you and go. Vernon will introduce the Morris executives.”

“No need for you to rush away. I look forward to meeting them to put faces with names.” Tony wanted to ask about one director in particular, but he refrained. Instead, as he conversed with those around him, he idly watched the crowd.

“Why don’t we do the introductions and let me officially move on. I can turn it over to you and get these old bones home to bed.”

“Yes, sir,” Tony replied, biting back a smile at the references to old and tired because he had already discovered that Seymour Morris worked out daily and had for years. Seymour was into polo, swimming, racquetball and golf.

As he moved to the microphone with Seymour, a blonde caught his attention.

In a plain black knee-length dress, Isabelle stood out. How had he missed her? Or had she just arrived? His insides clenched and flames heated him. Looking gorgeous, she stood talking to a cluster of Morris people. The short dress revealed her long, shapely legs and he could take a slow look now when she was unaware of his gaze on her. Her hair was looped and piled on her head, but this time a few strands escaped to frame her face.

She laughed at something someone said and his heart jumped. Instantly a vivid memory of Jessie Smith struck him.

His gaze narrowed while he focused intently on Isabelle, looking slowly, trying to compare her to a memory.

“Mr. Morris. I see your graphic arts department director, Isabelle Smith. Is that her full name?”

“As far as I know,” Seymour answered, turning to the man at his side with a questioning look.

Tony’s gaze remained riveted on Isabelle. He wanted to excuse himself and go talk to her, but that was impossible.

“It’s Jessica Isabelle Smith,” the vice president answered.

“Jessica Smith,” Tony whispered, repeating the name. Jessie Smith. It was her. Jessie Smith was back in his life.

He couldn’t keep from smiling. His new acquisition had a surprising, incredible perk. Now he could think of two reasons for her coolness when they had met Tuesday night. She could resent that he had not contacted her after their night together. Or she didn’t want to recall that night or rekindle the friendship. He watched her, remembering the college girl he had met, taunted by a visual picture of a laughing blonde, stunning in tight, faded jeans that molded to her slim legs. The same riveting blue eyes and flawless skin. A mouth to elicit erotic fantasies. And a cascade of long, almost waist length, silky, pale blond hair that, instead of being tightly pinned and conservative, tumbled freely over her shoulders. A party girl. Fun-loving, flirty with him, burning him to cinders in bed.

Why had she switched to her middle name, Isabelle? Nearly everything about her had changed, with the exception of her gorgeous looks, her captivating blue eyes, silky blond hair and that blazing attraction. Tony recalled her in his arms that night, warm, naked, eager. She had been all the things then that she had not been when he encountered her Tuesday night—the night they had met, there had never been a barrier around her.

She must have remembered him from the start. Was she angry he hadn’t pursued her after that night of passion?

Barely aware of his surroundings or the looming task, Tony’s attention kept returning to her while he attempted to chat politely with Seymour.

Finally, one of Seymour’s vice presidents quieted the room, introduced Seymour Morris and turned the microphone over to him.

Smiling his way through the opening, Tony heard none of it. His gaze kept resting on Isabelle, who was now facing the speaker, keeping her gaze firmly on the vice president or on Seymour. During the time Tony had watched her, not once had she looked at him.

He heard Seymour announce his name, introducing him as the new CEO and head of Ryder Enterprises, and he smiled during the applause. As he stepped to the microphone, shook Seymour’s hand and looked around the audience, his gaze rested on Isabelle. This time he made eye contact.

The instant they looked into each other’s eyes, the air electrified. Erotic images from the past taunted him as he pulled his attention back to the moment.

“I want to thank all of you for the warm welcome I’ve received. Seymour Morris and the Morris family have built a premier company with the help of outstanding employees. This is a blue-ribbon company with a blue-ribbon record.” He waited a few seconds while there was polite applause.

“In the coming weeks I’ll be talking to each of you more in depth. I think I already have appointments with most of you. If you need to see me sooner than your appointment, just let my secretary know. I’m looking forward to a banner year for Morris. I’ll turn this over to my executive president, Jason Hoyt, who has a few words to say and some introductions.”

He stepped aside and once again barely heard introductions until they went back to the Morris people and one by one, the vice presidents and then the directors were introduced.

They were scattered throughout the room and each person waved while they received brief applause. As each name was called, he looked carefully at the person, recalling the information he had received regarding them. Finally, he heard, “Isabelle Smith, director of the graphic arts department.”

Smiling, she stepped forward to wave, her gaze never meeting his. It didn’t matter. His heart jumped while he studied her intently again, remembering Jessie, comparing, feeling faint doubts that were fading each time he looked at her. Off and on he had thought about her, wondering where she was and what she was doing. At the time he had been working almost every waking minute and he hadn’t wanted to get involved with a woman because business would have suffered. She was back in his life. Now he could better understand her anger over his not contacting her after their night of partying and making love. Also, he could get through that barrier she had thrown up. As they made the next announcement, she glanced at him.

Certain she was Jessie Smith, he was jubilant.