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

The minute they finished the introductions and speeches, Tony turned to Seymour to offer his hand. “Thank you, sir. I have high hopes for Morris.”

“I think you’ll do well. This has been a great company. I have to tell you, there are moments this retirement gets to me, but I have no Morris heirs to pass this on to, so this is the end of the line. Life is filled with changes. I hope you pass this company through as many generations of Ryders as we have had Morrises.”

“Thank you. You’ve built a great company and I’m looking forward to my involvement in it.”

Seymour grinned. “Your father wanted this company in the worst way. I’ve fought him off for years. Lucky for you that you happened along when I wanted to retire and it didn’t hurt that you had a better offer than your dad,” Seymour added, chuckling. “Even though he didn’t make the sale, I know he’s probably still celebrating since you have a family business the same as I do. He may be out of it, but it was his and it’s still Ryder.”

“That he is. Best wishes on your retirement,” Tony said, anxious to get through the formalities.

When he had the chance, he turned to look for Isabelle. Once again, he couldn’t spot her. While his pulse drummed, he began to move around the room and then he saw her near the door, talking to three people. With her coat in hand, he suspected that she had been on her way out when someone had stopped her.

He tried to avoid rushing, but he crossed the room, putting off conversations with people who approached him.

And then she turned and walked out the door.

He lengthened his stride to catch up with her in the hall. “Jessie,” he said.

Isabelle stopped, her heart lurching. He remembers was the first thought that went through her mind. Her palms became damp as she turned to watch him approach. Looking like an ad for expensive men’s clothing in his charcoal suit, Tony had a commanding presence that was different from the party guy she had met in college. The thick mat of unruly curls were the only hint of a less serious side to him, something beyond the driven, ambitious mogul whose entire focus seemed to be on acquiring an even larger fortune.

As he halted only inches in front of her, there was a warmth in his gaze that hadn’t been present on Tuesday night. He gripped her arm lightly, his fingers barely holding her, yet it was a heated touch. “Let’s go where we can talk and not be interrupted.”

“I’m not sure we need to talk,” she said. “You’re my new employer. I’ll see you sometimes at the office,” she said, starting to put on her coat. He took it and held it out for her. As she slipped her arms into the sleeves, his hands brushed her shoulders. The faint touch should have been impersonal but was scalding.

“Oh, no. You’re not getting off that easily. Why didn’t you tell me?”

She looked up at him as he walked beside her. “I didn’t think you remembered,” she said, her pulse racing.

“I’ve never forgotten. Tuesday night, I thought about you—the Jessie Smith I knew, but dismissed the idea because of your name, Isabelle, your appearance, which is far different. And your whole manner.”

As they left the building, he held the door. “Let’s go have a drink somewhere and we can talk.”

She shook her head. “We’re not taking up where we left off. Different time, different world. You’re my new employer. End of discussion. I have other job offers, so soon I’ll be leaving Morris.”

“Don’t act in haste,” he said, his dark brown eyes unreadable. His handsome looks held her attention, more so now than when she was younger.

“I won’t do anything rash. I’ve been interviewing, studying my options.”

“Perhaps, but you haven’t heard what we’ll offer,” he said.

“Frankly, I doubt it will top the offers I’ve received. And you’ll have no difficulty replacing me, if you even want to with your ad department all in place. We both know that.”

“Why not hear what we’ll do? What do you have to lose?”

She smiled at him. “Nothing to lose. I’ll listen at the office. There’s no need for us to discuss work tonight.”

“How about dinner tomorrow night?” he asked, and her heartbeat skipped. Acceptance was on the tip of her tongue. But she had had one foolish night with him. She didn’t want another. Her aim was to meet someone with marriage potential—definitely not Tony Ryder’s MO, he was not the settling-down type. She wanted marriage and family. Tony wanted success. Focusing on his workaholic drive, she could say no far more easily.

“Thank you. I have never thought it wise to mix business with my personal life. That’s the path to all kinds of complications.”

“I think you cut off your options too hastily,” he said, smiling at her. “I’m still glad to find you again. I suppose it’s Isabelle now and not Jessie.”

“Definitely. Jessie was a nickname from childhood. My grandmother was named Isabelle and I loved her and always wished Isabelle had been my first name. When I graduated from college, I saw an opportunity to move into a different world with different friends and change to the name I like best. I prefer Isabelle and most of my coworkers don’t even know Jessica, much less Jessie.”

His gaze roamed over her features, his scrutiny making her breathless. “I hope you come to work sometime with your hair down. I remember your long hair,” he said in a husky voice.

And I remember your broad shoulders and rock-hard body, she thought. “I don’t wear my hair down to work,” she answered in what she hoped was a remote voice. “It doesn’t seem as professional.”

“So when you knew I was coming, you began looking for another job?”

“Actually, the companies contacted me. I intended to look other places, and now I’ve had promising offers.”

“You’ve said you’d wait and give us a chance.”

“I will, but I’m pretty sure I’ll be leaving and even more certain you’ll never miss me.” It was tempting for her to add, You didn’t be fore. “I need to go. I told Mr. Morris goodbye. I’ll miss him, but he seems happy with the prospect of retiring.”

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Tony said, falling into step beside her. “Catch me up. Did you go from college to Morris?”

“No. I worked for an ad agency for two years and then came to work here.”

At her car she stopped and smiled. “Good night,” she said, pulling her coat close around her.

“Night, Isabelle. I’ll see you at the office.”

She slid behind the wheel. He closed the door and stepped back.

As she drove away across the parking lot, she glanced in the rearview mirror. He stood staring at her car.

She had turned down dinner and told him she was quitting. Exactly what she should have done, but there was part of her that wanted to accept his dinner offer and stay in his employ.

This had to be for the best. She didn’t want any more nights of mindless liaisons, a brief casual relationship with her employer that meant nothing to him. She wanted out of this company and away from Tony Ryder with her heart and her self-respect intact. And she didn’t want the office gossiping about her relationship with the new owner. Tony Ryder was not the person to get involved with and she regretted that he had recognized her. She intended to keep reminding herself that he was not the kind of man she wanted to spend her time with.

Even so, there was part of her that wanted to stay at Morris. A part of her that knew she would see more of Tony if he was her boss.

As she studied an ad layout at the office Friday morning, Isabelle received a call from Tony’s secretary, who wanted to set up a meeting. Within minutes Isabelle had an eleven-o’clock appointment Monday with Tony, his president of operations and the president of promotion and information. She was still tempted to turn in a resignation and skip the interview, but she was curious how badly he wanted her to stay. What offer would he make?

She had already decided which company she would prefer to join. She had had the third interview, which had culminated in a job offer that included more money than she was making. She would oversee a larger graphic arts department in an office with a more convenient location. She did not expect Tony to top their proposal, giving her the opportunity to tell him she had a better offer. Going with that thought firmly in mind, she spent the weekend getting ready for her business move, hoping to take off a few days in between employers. Saturday morning she went to a midmorning meeting of Dallas Regional Graphic Artists. She had belonged to the group since she had started her career.

As she expected, a close friend greeted her upon her arrival. Dylan Kinnaly—who was seriously involved with Tony’s sister, Sydney—broke away from a cluster of people and hurried toward her. The tall, slender man had a worried frown that indicated something bad had happened.

“Have you met him yet?” Dylan asked. “You said Tony Ryder takes over now.”

“Hello, to you,” she answered with amusement. “Yes, I’ve met him. He wants me to stay with Morris.”

“Sydney’s parents had a long talk with her about me. I was hoping to talk with you when we get a chance. Can you stay after the meeting?”

“Sure, the room will be empty,” she said, her curiosity rising. Dylan had become a good friend over the years and she had been surprised when she had learned he was seeing Tony’s sister.

She had first met Sydney Ryder at an annual film festival held by one of the local art museums. Later, she had seen her a few times at professional events when Dylan had brought her along. She couldn’t keep from liking Sydney and couldn’t blame her for anything her brother did. But Sydney was a reminder of Tony, and for that reason Isabelle had refused the few invitations from Dylan to go to dinner with them. When she had told Dylan about meeting Tony in college, swearing him to secrecy about telling Sydney, Dylan understood her refusal to get to know Sydney better.