Читать онлайн книгу «Blame It On Texas» автора Cathy Thacker

Blame It On Texas
Cathy Gillen Thacker
Lewis McCabe fell for Lexie Remington long ago.But as a shy and awkward teenager he thought he had no chance with her. Now he's a successful business owner and ready to romance Lexie, who's back in their hometown of Laramie, Texas. However, Lexie, an image stylist to the stars, thinks Lewis is asking for her professional help.So in order to spend time with the woman of his dreams, Lewis agrees to a makeover. Lexie is determined to see Lewis as just a client, no matter how she's starting to feel. But Lewis has other plans - he wants Lexie to stay in Laramie for good. And he wants a lot more than just a new look. Whatever happens, they can blame it on Texas!



“I don’t want word getting out that I hired you to help me,” Lewis said
Lexie propped her hands on her hips. “Don’t you think that they’re going to figure it out when you start looking a whole lot different after spending concentrated time with me?”
Lewis paused. His lips curved up on either side. “Well, maybe not so much if people thought we were dating and you steered me in another direction, clotheswise or something. If word got out that we were dating, would that be so bad?”
“Yes. You’re a client,” she reminded sternly.
“But people here don’t know that,” he insisted, looking her square in the eye.
“But I do,” Lexie shot back. “And I don’t date clients, Lewis.”
Not anymore. Not since she had found out mixing business and pleasure with a sexy available man was the worst mistake a single woman could make.
Lewis paused to come up with a new strategy. “Then we’ll just have to tell people we’re spending time together because we’re friends.”
Dear Reader,
Figuring out what to wear is something that has stumped us all from time to time. The “look” you eventually end up with usually depends on how and where you spend most of your time. For instance, my office is in my home and I place a premium on comfort, so you’re more likely to find me in jeans, sneakers and a cotton shirt than a dress and heels. Fortunately, no one really cares how a writer is garbed when he or she is writing—people just want to read a good story. Celebrities and CEOs, on the other hand, are held to a different standard.
Globe-trotting former Laramie, Texas, resident Lexie Remington knows this and has made a career of helping clients figure out what kind of image they want to present to the world. Whereas the brilliant—but hopelessly style challenged—computer genius Lewis McCabe is too much of a man’s man to employ anyone to tell him how to dress. And this puts the fun-loving millionaire in a quandary. Lewis wants Lexie’s attention. He won’t get it if he doesn’t at least pretend to respect what she does for a living. So following a small misunderstanding, he inadvertently gets himself in a Texas-sized mess. One his four brothers think is a hoot…
I hope you enjoy BLAME IT ON TEXAS as much as I loved writing it. For more information on this and other books, please visit my Web site at www.cathygillenthacker.com.
Happy reading!
Cathy Gillen Thacker

Blame It on Texas
Cathy Gillen Thacker



ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Cathy Gillen Thacker married her high school sweetheart and hasn’t had a dull moment since. Why? you ask. Well, there were three kids, various pets, any number of automobiles, several moves across the country, his and her careers and sundry other experiences (some of which were exciting and some of which weren’t). But mostly, there was love and friendship and laughter, and lots of experiences she wouldn’t trade for the world.
This book is for Mary Thacker, for her love and support over the years.

Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen

Chapter One
A full moon shone and stars twinkled in the velvety sky overhead. It was shaping up to be a beautiful October evening, Lewis McCabe thought, as he strode briskly up the steps of the Remington ranch house. Before he could press the doorbell, the front door opened. Jenna Lockhart Remington stepped across the threshold, the look on her face anything but welcoming. “I know why you’re here,” the elegant older woman said firmly.
“You do?” Lewis McCabe murmured. Darn it, had his four brothers phoned ahead to make his plan public before he put it into action? If so, there was going to be heck to pay, he decided grimly, and then some.
“And although—” Mrs. Remington paused to shrewdly peruse Lewis from head to toe, none of her customary hospitality evident “—I can see your need is dire—”
How could she have known how long it had been since he’d had a date? Lewis thought in irritation. Then again, this was Laramie, Texas, where everyone was family, and nothing stayed secret for long.
“Lexie is here on vacation.”
“Exactly,” Lewis said, glad they were no longer talking at cross purposes. “I figured since your stepdaughter’s in town again I’d use the opportunity to—”
“Take advantage of her kind and generous nature?” Mrs. Remington scolded, clearly annoyed.
Was Mrs. Remington intimating he was a pity date? That Lexie would only go out with him if she felt sorry for him? “I assure you, Mrs. Remington, I have nothing but the utmost respect for Lexie,” he said sincerely, determined to do whatever it took to get an audience with the woman he’d had his eye on for what seemed like forever. “I hold her in highest regard.”
“Which is, of course, exactly why you are here,” Mrs. Remington interrupted. “Because Lexie is so successful.”
Given the fact this conversation had started off on the wrong foot, and had been going down the wrong path ever since, Lewis wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Of course I admire what Lexie has done professionally,” he admitted. “Everyone around here does.” Thanks to her stunning fashion sense, she’d become every bit the celebrity her clients were.
Footsteps sounded in the background. Jake Remington, Lexie’s father, appeared at his wife’s side, his tall, lanky frame filling the doorway. Jake nodded at Lewis. “McCabe.”
“Mr. Remington.” Lewis stuck out his hand. After a moment, Jake shook it. Encouraged, Lewis continued, “I was just telling Mrs. Remington that I—”
“My wife is right,” Jake Remington interrupted imperiously “There is no way Jenna and I are going to let Lexie see you. Because if we do and you ask her what darn near everyone else around here wants to ask her right now—”
Lewis swore inwardly. “Other guys have been here ahead of me?” He thought he’d gotten the jump on this, since Lexie had only arrived here from London, via her father’s private jet, earlier in the day.
“Let’s just say you’re not the first to come calling,” Mrs. Remington replied. “And the answer to everyone was the same. Lexie is not receiving guests at this time.”
“Well, then when will she be?” Lewis asked, doing his best to maintain a positive outlook. Not easy, given how unfairly he was being shot down.
Jake and Jenna looked at each other. “As far as we’re concerned, never,” Jake said. “At least during this visit.”
The thought of letting Lexie leave town without seeing her—again—did not sit well with Lewis, maybe because so many chances to connect had already passed them by. Deciding he wasn’t going to let the Remingtons’s assessment of his chances with Lexie decide the matter, Lewis insisted as politely as possible, “I just need a moment of her time. I won’t stay. I promise.”
Jenna sighed, looking thoroughly conflicted. She ran a hand through her short red-gold hair before frowning at Lewis. “She’d say yes, you know. All it would take is one look at you, and she’d be agreeing to whatever you asked.”
“And that would not be good for her,” Jake Remington clapped a firm hand on Lewis’s shoulder. “You need to go, son.”
Lewis dug in his heels. He did not want to leave it like this.
“Maybe the next time she’s home,” Mrs. Remington offered gently before putting an abrupt end to the conversation. The door shut and silence fell on the wide front porch of the elegant limestone ranch house.
Lewis stood there a moment longer, aware he hadn’t felt this foolish since he was twenty-three and failed to get up the nerve to talk to Lexie when she was home from college on fall break. Eight years had passed…and apparently little had changed. Swearing silently to himself, he turned and started down the porch steps to his SUV. He was almost there when he heard what sounded like a tapping noise. He turned in the direction of the house and saw Lexie Remington framed in an upstairs window, looking as heart-stoppingly beautiful as ever. She motioned to him, and pointed urgently toward the rear of the house. Then, with one last glance over her shoulder, to see if he were following, she disappeared from view.
A mixture of anticipation and excitement rippling through him, Lewis strode around the ranch house. At the rear of the house, Lexie was standing in an open second-floor window in what appeared to be an old-fashioned white lawn nightgown, with a high neck and long, billowing sleeves. Her strawberry-blond hair flowing in untamed waves around her slender shoulders, she looked like a princess in a turret. All she was missing was the tiara and he wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d had one of those around some place. Arms on the sill, she leaned down toward him and invited in a soft, mischievous voice that further fueled his dreams, “Come on up.”
Lewis didn’t know whether to laugh or try and wake himself up from what was obviously the wildest fantasy he’d ever had. “How?” he whispered back, aware it was only seven-thirty and Lexie was already dressed for bed. Another anomaly in this increasingly bizarre situation. The Lexie he recalled had always been as much of a night person as he was. No way she would have gone straight from dinner into bed, even if she had just crossed the Atlantic Ocean. No way she would have worn such a ridiculously old-fashioned nightgown.
“Climb up the trellis,” she urged merrily, her alluring lips curving into a sexy smile.
Blood rushed through Lewis’s veins. Had her breasts always been that curvaceous and full, her features so delicate and sensual? “You’re kidding.” He couldn’t take his eyes from her face.
Her lovely features took on an air of challenge. To his disappointment, she tossed her head and shrugged as if it didn’t matter to her in the least. “Do you want to meet me with me or not?”
Lewis didn’t have to be asked twice.

LEXIE STOOD GUARD in her dimly lit bedroom while Lewis McCabe climbed up the trellis with a great deal more ease than she expected. By the time he hauled himself over her windowsill and into the bedroom she had inhabited during her youth, her heart was pounding. Why exactly, she couldn’t say. It wasn’t as if the two of them had ever meant anything to one another. They’d barely spoken to each other, although, it had been hard not to be aware of Lewis McCabe. He was just so darn smart. And, when he let his guard down, witty. She had lived for his subtle wisecracks and droll sense of humor.
Not that he had ever cared. Or noticed.
But he was here now. To see her. And how time had changed them both. He was taller than she recalled. Much taller. At least six-three. And buff. His shoulders were broad, his arms, chest, abdomen and legs—solid muscle. His face had filled out, too, giving him a ruggedly masculine appeal, a big departure from the hopelessly nerdy boy she recalled from her youth.
These days, his well-defined lips had a confident slant, and his angular jaw emanated power and determination. And yet, despite the fact that Lewis McCabe was now very much a man’s man, some things remained almost the same. His lively blue-gray eyes were still framed by the wire-rimmed glasses she had always found oh-so-sexy. His spiky light brown hair had hints of chestnut and gold woven throughout, although Lewis still hadn’t found a good barber. His clothes were…well…horrendous, but that was why he was trying so hard to see her. Because he knew he needed her help retooling his image. And he might not know it, yet, but she needed his help, too.
Lexie decided to cut straight to the chase. “I heard you talking to my parents and I know what you wanted to ask me. The answer is yes.”
Lewis couldn’t seem to stop looking at her long, white nightgown. Good thing he didn’t know how little she had under the deftly camouflaging fabric…. Now if only she could get her body to stop reacting to his presence.
“You’re serious,” Lewis said incredulously.
He didn’t have to look so surprised, Lexie thought irritably, as she brushed her hair away from her face. “I know you need my expertise in this area, and I am perfectly willing to help you come up with a personal style that better suits your position as CEO and president of McCabe Computer Games. You’re not just a computer genius, Lewis, you’re a successful executive now. You’ve got to dress the part.”
To Lexie’s surprise, Lewis wasn’t looking as pleased by her offer as she had expected. Perhaps because he had taken offense? Call it a hazard of her profession, but she did tend to be a tad blunt when summing up a client’s style woes. She flushed self-consciously and forced a smile. “I’ll waive my regular fee.”
Again, Lewis McCabe didn’t appear to know whether to be pleased by her generous offer, or insulted.
“Instead,” she forced herself to continue matter-of-factly, “I want something much more valuable from you.”
Having apparently recovered from the sight of her in the impossibly chaste nightgown, he strolled past her and settled confidently on the edge of her four-poster bed. He flashed her with a challenging half smile. “Okay, I’m all ears,” he prodded dryly.
Lexie swallowed, trying hard not to notice how at home he looked in her bedroom. “I heard you and your brother Brad have a ranch now—with horses.”
Lewis nodded, interest clearly piqued. “The Lazy M.”
Lexie raked her teeth across her lower lip. Her heart pounded at the implacable note in his low voice. “I want to go riding tonight.” The brisk October weather was perfect for an evening ride.
Lewis shrugged, unconcerned. “Put your jeans and boots on. I’ll take you.”
She edged close enough to inhale the brisk masculine scent of his cologne. “It’s not that simple,” she said, keeping her voice low enough so they wouldn’t be overheard.
Some emotion Lexie couldn’t quite identify flickered in Lewis’s eyes. “Of course it isn’t,” he replied knowingly.
Lexie felt the heat in her chest spread upward to her face. She told herself it was tension—and not his proximity—causing her heart to pound. “I can’t just walk out of here.”
Lewis cocked his head. “I don’t see why not,” he told her frankly. “You are a grown woman.”
Yes. She was. Unfortunately, not everyone around her accepted that. “My parents want me home tonight.” And every other day and night for the next two weeks.
“I gathered that.” Lewis rubbed the flat of his palm across the underside of his closely shaven jaw. Still keeping his eyes focused firmly on hers, he added playfully, “The question is why are they locking you in your little tower up here?”
“I’m not locked in! Well, not literally anyway,” Lexie amended hurriedly, as his gaze trailed lazily over her hair, face and lips before returning to her eyes. “And the reason Jenna and my father are working so hard to keep me home and undisturbed is that they have gotten it into their heads that I need to catch up on my rest.”
Lewis couldn’t mask the concern in his eyes. “You want my opinion?” he asked. “You are looking a little…peaked.”
Lexie knew her skin didn’t have the sun-kissed glow of his. She rolled her eyes. “Give me a break. I’ve been in London, where it’s done nothing lately but rain.”
He narrowed his assessing gaze even more. “A few cloudy days don’t cause skin to be that pale.”
How was it that Lewis saw what those who were supposed to be close to her had failed to notice? “Then it’s the nightgown,” Lexie argued back, refusing to admit to the real reason behind her pale skin and tense, agitated state. “The white color washes out my skin.”
He grinned, all mischief again. “I was wondering about that,” he teased, getting slowly and deliberately to his feet. “You used to be such a tomboy.” He sauntered closer, inundating her with his size.
Her pulse racing, Lexie leaned her head back, to better see into his face. “Still am, at heart,” she drawled right back, knowing that much was only too true. As a child, she’d played outdoors constantly and rarely wore a dress—and then only under protest.
Lewis fingered the stand-up lace collar. “Then why the frilly getup?” he teased.
She drew a breath and stepped back before his hand brushed the delicate skin of her throat, or the equally sensitive underside of her chin. “All the clothes I brought with me from England are in the wash. So I had to pick something that was still in my closet here to wear when I got out of the shower.”
A muscle worked in his jaw. “You really wore something like this?” he asked, doing a double take.
Lexie huffed in irritation. “I had a romantic phase, years ago.” It had been a time when she had wanted to be swept off her feet. Fortunately, she was no longer the foolish young girl she had been when she had left Laramie on the arm of Constantine Romeo. “Don’t worry. It passed. Never to return.”
Lewis stepped back to regard her. “That’s too bad. I kind of like it. It’s…sexy…in an innocent sort of way.”
Lexie’s body tingled. She wished she’d at least had the foresight to put on a bra or a bathrobe before inviting him up to her lair. “Listen, if we’re going to work together, you can’t say things like that,” she chided, backing away from him again.
He matched her, step for step, until the backs of her knees hit the side of her bed. Clearly trying to push her buttons, he asked, “What if we’re just fooling around together? Can I say it then?”
To her dismay, Lexie could imagine playing around with Lewis McCabe way too easily. Resolved to keep her guard up, Lexie feigned immunity to his teasing. “I’m serious, Lewis.”
“So am I.” Desire, pure and simple, was in his eyes. “If we’re going to be spending time together, for whatever reason, why can’t I tell you what’s on my mind?”
Determined not to put herself in an emotionally vulnerable position with him, she said, “Because it makes us aware of each other in a way we shouldn’t be…and that does not make for a good work environment.”
He flashed her a contemplative grin. “Voice of experience talking?”
Hanging on to her composure by a thread, she revealed, “I got romantically involved with a man who also ended up being my client.”
Lewis grimaced. “Constantine Romeo.”
Years later, people were still talking about the way she had simply picked up and run off with the handsome actor, much to the chagrin of her parents and stepmother. Lexie pinned Lewis with a glare. “That’s not a mistake I intend to repeat.”
“Hmm. Well, if you’re worried about that,” he said, his low, sexy voice doing strange things to her insides, “then maybe you and I shouldn’t work together.”
“We have to!” Lexie countered emotionally, before she could stop herself.
He paused and eyed her thoughtfully. “Why?”
Aware she was revealing far too much of herself to a man she barely knew, Lexie gave him a flippant look. “Besides the fact that you desperately need my help?”
“Yes.”
“Because unless I do a favor for you, then I can’t ask you to do a favor for me,” she explained before turning away.
Lewis clamped a hand on her shoulder and turned her back to face him. “Why not?”
His strong, capable fingers radiated warmth. “Because then we won’t be even.”
He angled his head. “Why does it have to be even?”
Frustrated, Lexie threw up her hands. “Because that’s the way the world works.”
“Maybe that’s the way Hollywood works,” he agreed, as he caught both of her hands in both of his. “It isn’t the way Laramie, Texas, works. Here, you can do a favor for someone without worrying about whether or not you’re going to get paid back. And vice versa. People just naturally help each other out. They don’t keep score.”
“Well, I’m not comfortable with that,” she retorted, not about to get drawn into any sort of flirtation with him, no matter how desirable she found him. “If I ask something of someone, I give something in return. That way, I don’t have to worry about owing anyone anything.”
Lewis let her go. “I see.”
“You disapprove.” The question was, why did it matter to her what he thought?
His lips took on a reassuring curve. “I think you need to relax, take it down a notch.”
So did she. “Which is why I asked you to climb up here, Lewis,” Lexie explained with a grimace. “I’ve only been here a few hours and I’m already going stir-crazy in this house. I have to get out. I’ve got to have some fresh air and moonlight…and the feel of freedom I get when I ride, or I’m never going to be able to sleep.”
Lewis gave her a seductive smile that was enough to make her stomach drop. “Makes sense.”
Finally, they were on the same page!
Lexie surveyed his vintage ’80s clothing that were not exactly ranch ready. She bit her lower lip. “You do ride, don’t you?”
Lewis nodded.
“Well enough to keep up with me?” she asked.
“Only one way to find that out,” he drawled.
Her curiosity about him intensified. The Lewis she recalled had been awkward with the ladies. The Lewis in front of her seemed to know his way around. “Good. So meet me at midnight,” she urged hurriedly, trying not to think what his newfound confidence was doing to her. “I’ll be waiting at the end of the drive, down by the road.”
Lewis resisted her efforts to push him back toward the open window. Instead, he linked fingers with her. “Why can’t we just tell your parents what you want to do and go now—via the front door?”
She unlinked their palms, not sure how much she could trust him to do what she wanted if he knew everything there was to know about her current situation. “Uh…long story.”
His expression guarded, he studied her. “I have all the time in the world.”
She scoffed, aware far too much time had already passed. “That’s what you think.”
Lewis quirked an eyebrow.
“Do you really want to face my father when he realizes you’re still here?”
Recognition dawned. “I gather he wouldn’t appreciate me spending time in your bedroom,” Lewis remarked, a look of distinctly male satisfaction on his face.
Refusing to consider what it would be like if Lewis really were there for amorous reasons, Lexie stepped away from him. “You gather right.”
He lifted both hands in surrender. “Say no more. I’m out of here.”
Relief flowed through her. Much more of this two-stepping around her bedroom and she’d be thinking about kissing him. She let out a slow breath. “I’ll see you later.”
“Lexie.” Lewis paused, one leg thrown over the windowsill. He looked deep into her eyes. “Are you sure everything is okay?”
Lexie shrugged, unable to admit just how wrong her life had gone as of late. “I’m fine,” she lied. “Now scoot before someone catches you with me and we really have a lot of explaining to do.”

“WELL, LOOK WHO DECIDED to join us after all,” Riley McCabe teased, twenty minutes later.
All eyes were on Lewis as he strolled into the kitchen of the “fixer-upper” his youngest brother, Kevin, had just purchased.
Brad continued removing the sink and its fittings after looking at Lewis with obvious sympathy. “Struck out, huh?”
Unfortunately, they all knew where he had been and why. Lewis’d had to tell them why he was opting out of the kitchen demolition party at the last minute, after promising to help the financially tapped-out Kevin and the rest of his brothers with the task.
Lewis picked up a hammer. “What makes you think I didn’t get a date?”
“Did you?” Kevin asked, unable to stop being a detective even when he wasn’t working for the Laramie County sheriff’s department.
“Yes.” Lewis lent a hand, prying off the ancient laminate countertop. “And no.”
Will McCabe narrowed his eyes, looking every bit the former fighter pilot he was. “You either did or you didn’t. Which is it?”
Lewis unscrewed the plywood cover from the base cabinet. “Lexie agreed to spend time with me. Starting later tonight, as a matter of fact.”
Brad knelt to remove the doors and drawers from the lower units. “I hear a catch in there.”
Together, the guys carried the trash from the growing junk pile to the pickup parked just outside the back door. “She got the mistaken impression that I wanted to hire her to transform my image.”
Guffaws, all around.
Riley scrutinized Lewis as they all tromped back inside to continue gutting the spacious country kitchen. “So you’re going to be paying her to pay attention to you?”
Not in money. “That’s the good part,” Lewis said, fully aware of just how bad this arrangement he had struck with Lexie sounded.
Kevin scoffed as they worked to remove the base units from the wall. “For whom?”
“We’re bartering services. She wants me to take her riding tonight. At midnight.”
“And then what?” Brad, still the most cynical of them all, asked.
“If all goes well, I intend to keep seeing her,” Lewis said.
Will helped them remove the rest of the unit without tearing out the drywall behind it. “Then I presume you’re going to set Lexie Remington straight when you see her tonight, tell her all you intended was to ask her out.”
Lewis shrugged. “She seems to think I need an image makeover.”
More groans, all the way around. “That may be true,” Kevin said as the guys finished extracting the bottom units. “But once you let a woman start telling you how to dress and what to do, it’s all over. Unless…you want to be with a woman who runs the show in the relationship?”
“Besides, I thought you already did that,” Riley continued helpfully. “You know, hitched your wagon to a woman who couldn’t seem to stop ‘improving’ you and cutting you down.” He paused, as compassionate a brother as he was a physician. “Didn’t do much for the union, as I recall.”
“And yet here you are—enthusiastically signing up for that all over again,” the now happily married Brad said. “Don’t you know that’s the kiss of death for any relationship, trying to make each other into what you want them to be instead of accepting them for who they already are?”
“We’re talking about a few dates,” Lewis said impatiently.
“A few dates built on a lie,” Kevin corrected, all law-and-order again.
Guilt flooded Lewis. That was not something he had intended.
Will looked at Lewis with obvious pity. “How do you think Lexie’s going to feel when she finds out you never had any intention of contracting her professional services? She’s going to think you made a fool of her on purpose, letting her assume something that wasn’t true.”
Lewis hadn’t thought of it that way. He hoped Lexie wouldn’t, either. Aware there was only one solution to this problem that would keep Lexie’s feelings from being hurt, he put down his hammer and clenched his jaw. “Lexie isn’t going to find out.”
Riley scoffed. “How do you figure that?”
Lewis narrowed his eyes. “’Cause none of you are going to tell her.”
Easy to see all four of his brothers thought he was making a big mistake. “Look,” Lewis said firmly, laying down the law as only a McCabe could, “Lexie’s only going to be in Texas for two weeks before she jets off again. I finally get to spend time some quality time with her. I’m not mucking with that, and none of you are going to ruin it for me, either.”

LEWIS FELT LIKE an intruder as he slowed his Yukon in front of the entrance to the Remington ranch. Lexie glided out of the shadows, right on cue, and slipped into the passenger seat beside him. She looked pretty as could be in jeans, boots, a red cotton turtleneck and denim jacket. Her thick strawberry-blond hair had been pulled into a bouncy ponytail on the back of her head. Vibrant color lit her cheeks and eyes.
“What is that delicious aroma?” Lexie demanded in her usual carefree manner. She looked at the paper bag balanced on the console between their seats.
Lewis drove the short distance down the farm road to the entrance of his own ranch, the Lazy M. “A little late night supper. I figured we might want to grab a bite before we saddle up.”
“You figured right,” she said, a mixture of devilry and excitement sparkling in her turquoise eyes. “I’m starving. If my nose is correct, that’s chili from your aunt Greta’s restaurant.”
Lewis gave her an amused glance, aware how much hadn’t changed about her. Lexie was still the most exciting tomboy around. Quick-witted, fun-loving and sexy as all get-out. Trying not to imagine what it would be like to finally have her in his arms, he said, “Extra spicy, just the way you like it.”
“Mmm.” Pleasure radiated in her low tone as she kicked back in the passenger seat. “What else is in here?”
With effort, he kept his glance away from the graceful way she moved and her long, denim-clad legs. “Coffee. Nice and strong. And jalapeño cornbread.” He knew from experience it really packed a punch. “I figured I would show you something while we eat.” Lewis took a separate entrance to the Lazy M Ranch house, near the south edge of the property. Perched on a hill was a bulldozer and several piles of dirt. He parked in the lane and cut the engine.
“What are you building here?” Lexie looked around curiously.
He adjusted the interior lights on the truck, so they could see each other clearly. “A second ranch house—this one is just for me.”
Lexie took off her seat belt and swiveled to face him. “How big is it going to be?”
Lewis unhooked his, too. “Haven’t decided yet. I’m still working with the architect.”
“Where do you live now?”
Aware how cozy it felt to be here with her like this, he handed Lexie a thermal cup of chili and a spoon. “I was bunking in the main house, and Brad had the guest cottage. When he married Lainey Carrington, and she and her son moved in with Brad, it made sense for us to switch places. Now they have two preschoolers, and another baby on the way.”
“So I heard.”
The presence of kids had his yearning for a family of his own growing by leaps and bounds, which was why he’d decided to go ahead and build his dream home, in the hopes that a special woman would follow.
“Anyway, it makes sense for us to spread out a little more now.” He could still have meals with Brad and Lainey and the kids whenever he wanted, but he could have more privacy, too.
Lewis watched Lexie work off the lid, being careful not to spill it, and balance her square of cornbread on her bent knee. He licked a drop of chili off his thumb. “So how come we’re sneaking around like a couple of teenagers?” he asked.
Lexie swallowed the spicy concoction and arched her eyebrows at him flirtatiously. “Aren’t you having fun yet?”
Reminded of how reckless Lexie had always been, Lewis nudged her knee with his and grinned. “You know what I mean. What’s going on between you and your folks?” He’d been wondering about that all evening. From what he recalled, they had always gotten along, until Lexie ran off to California to make her fame and fortune at the tender age of nineteen.
She licked the back of her plastic spoon. “Let’s just say they are overreacting, as usual.”
“They seemed awfully protective,” he noted as he munched on cornbread.
In a way that didn’t make sense. Jake Remington was an accomplished businessman, known for identifying fledgling businesses and turning them into hugely successful operations. Jenna Lockhart Remington was a successful clothing designer known for her one-of-a-kind couture bridal gowns and formal-wear, as well as her boutique line. They were respected members of the community, renowned for their big hearts and Texas hospitality. Yet earlier, they could hardly have been more unwelcoming to him and, apparently, to everyone else who had dared appear at their front door since Lexie arrived home that morning.
She shrugged, took another bite of chili and followed it with a big gulp of coffee. Lewis saw her looking around.
He grimaced. “Sorry. I forgot to bring any napkins.”
“That’s okay.” Lexie dabbed at the corner of her lips with her fingertip. She went back to eating. “So what kind of horses do you and your brother have out here?”
It was all Lewis could do to keep his eyes off her. “You’re going to ride Lady—she’s a sweetheart.”
Lexie’s eyebrows drew together. “She sounds tame.”
“She is,” Lewis assured, not sure how long it had been since Lexie had actually ridden. “You won’t have any trouble with her.”
She paused and put her chili aside. Frowning, she swallowed hard and shook her head in outright disagreement. “I wanted a challenge,” she argued.
Brad’s horse was just that. The problem was, no one rode the stallion but Brad. Lewis’s cautious nature came to the fore. “It’s going to be dark, Lexie.”
“So?” Lexie shot him an aggravated look and put a fist to her sternum.
“So even with the lanterns I brought for us to hang on our saddles and the full moon, we’re going to have to be careful.”
Lexie got out of the cab of the truck and began to pace.
Not sure what was wrong, Lewis climbed out after her. Quickly, he circled around to her side. Then he watched as Lexie bent forward, perspiration dotting her forehead, her hands on her knees. Light spilled from the interior of the truck, bathing them both in a yellow glow. Lexie straightened again, her face ghostly pale. “Are you okay?” he asked, not sure what was going on with her, just knowing it wasn’t good.
Lexie nodded. “I’m fine,” she said, in a voice thready with pain. And then she fainted.

Chapter Two
“I can’t believe you called my parents,” Lexie fumed.
“What was I supposed to do?” Lewis was glad her anger with him had brought a renewed flush of color to her cheeks. When he had carried her through the automatic glass doors of Laramie Community Hospital, she had been white as a sheet. “Bring you to the hospital and not tell them?” That would have won him some points with her folks!
“You weren’t supposed to bring me to the emergency room at all!” Lexie folded her arms in front of her.
Before Lewis could defend himself, the door to the examining room was opened. His brother Riley, the family doc on call, and Lexie’s parents filed in. Jake and Jenna Remington looked as if they had been awakened from a sound sleep and dressed hastily. Their hair was still tousled. Jake needed a shave. Jenna’s face was pale with worry. They rushed to Lexie’s side and hugged her, being careful not to dislodge the IV taped to her left arm. “Thank you for calling us,” Jenna told Lewis.
“Although what you were doing out with my daughter that time of night is still a question that needs to be answered,” Jake said grimly.
“Don’t blame Lewis, Dad,” Lexie interrupted. “I asked him to take me riding.”
Jake’s gray-brown eyebrows climbed even higher. “In the middle of the night?”
“It’s not as if you were going to let me go if you knew about it,” Lexie challenged.
Riley looked at Lexie sternly. “Your father told me you just got out of the hospital in London, Lexie.”
Lewis did a double take. “Is this true?” he asked her.
Lexie flushed and waved off the concern of all those around her. “It was nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing,” Jake Remington said gruffly. “You passed out over there, too.”
“So I’m a little run-down.” Lexie shrugged.
“You were having chest pains tonight,” Lewis said, repeating what he had already told the staff upon her admission. “Before you passed out. At least I think you were, the way you were pressing your hand to your chest.”
“Acid reflux,” Riley explained.
“You can give her medication for that, right?” Jenna queried, the picture of motherly concern.
Riley nodded. “But you’re still going to have to lay off the spicy food, caffeine and highly acidic things like tomatoes and citrus until you heal, Lexie. And we still have to deal with your exhaustion. You need lots of rest, no stress. And you need to start eating right.”
Lexie rubbed the back of her neck, looking as if all that sounded impossible to her.
“How long before she’s back on her feet?” Lexie’s father asked.
“Two weeks of R and R ought to do it,” Riley said.
“I want to go riding,” Lexie grumbled.
“Not for at least another week,” Riley cautioned. “We don’t want you passing out in the saddle.”
“So when do I get out of here?” Lexie asked, impatiently.
“As soon as the IV is finished,” Riley said. He wrote out a prescription for her and handed it over. “Provided you promise me you really will take it easy.”
She nodded. “I promise.”
“Okay, I want to see you in my office in one week, for a recheck. Call and make an appointment with my receptionist tomorrow. In the meantime, if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call.” Riley accepted thanks from everyone, then exited the room.
Jake Remington turned back to his only daughter. “Okay, young lady, you heard the doctor. No more reckless inattention to your health. You’re going home with us, and this time, you’re staying on the ranch.”
“No, I’m not.” Lexie reached out and took Lewis’s hand firmly in hers. “I am going home with Lewis!”

THE SILENCE IN THE examining room was deafening.
All eyes turned to Lewis.
He was used to seeing his brothers in this kind of trouble. Not him. Never him.
“Lexie, you already had one disastrous relationship,” Jake said. “If you think I am going to stand by and watch you rush headlong into another, just to get back at me for never approving of Constantine Romeo—”
“I knew you were going to bring that up!” Lexie interrupted.
“Stop!” Jenna stepped between warring father and daughter. “This is the kind of stress Riley just suggested that Lexie avoid.”
“Well, I’m not letting her go home with someone she barely knows,” Jake protested.
“Well, I’m not going back to the ranch, either. I can’t breathe there!” Lexie glared at her father.
“Then how about staying in the apartment above my shop?” Jenna suggested gently. “It’s small, but private. And right down the street from the hospital, should you feel ill again.”
“Fine,” Lexie said. “Provided Lewis drives me there and you two go on home and get some sleep.”
Jake Remington looked as if he wanted to punch him, Lewis noted uncomfortably. But her father finally agreed and the Remingtons left after bidding Lexie a tense good-night.
Lewis went out in the hall to wait while the nurse helped Lexie get ready to leave the hospital. Riley handed the chart he had been writing on to the medical records clerk and strode over to Lewis. He clapped a brotherly hand on Lewis’s shoulder. “I meant what I said about Lexie needing to limit her stress right now. Especially given the way Jake Remington feels about his daughter seeing anyone.”
“Shutting her up like a princess in an ivory tower is the wrong approach to take with Lexie,” Lewis declared.
His brother frowned. “You’re an authority on her? After what—one-fifth of one clandestine date?”
“She asked me to help her out. I’m going to do that,” Lewis insisted stubbornly.
Riley’s gaze narrowed. “And I’m telling you this—make an enemy of her father, and you’ll regret it.”

LEXIE SAUNTERED OUT to the waiting room. “Thanks for waiting.”
“No problem.” Lewis fell into step beside her.
“But it wasn’t necessary,” she said, leading the way out of the ER. “I could just as easily get a cab.”
“In Laramie? At this time of night?” Lewis teased, as they walked through the automatic glass doors. “You have been away a long time.”
Lexie came to a halt on the sidewalk beneath the portico. “There are still only two cabs in town?”
Lewis put his hand beneath her elbow. “And neither of them run past midnight without prior appointment, unless it is an absolute emergency. And when there’s a medical emergency, an ambulance is summoned.”
Lexie sighed, her frustration evident. “This isn’t an emergency.”
“Maybe not to you.” He guided her toward the parking lot. “You managed to get everyone around you pretty upset.”
Lexie drew away from him as they approached his Yukon. “Including you?”
“I admit you had me worried.”
Lewis held the door for her, then circled around to climb behind the steering wheel. The only thing he regretted about this mission was the short distance to her stepmother’s building on Main Street.
Jenna Lockhart Designs had been a mere storefront—albeit a highly exclusive one—when Lewis moved to Laramie at age eleven. Now, some twenty years later, the famous Texas boutique took up an entire block on Laramie’s Main Street. Women came from all over the country to purchase the one-of-a kind evening gowns and wedding dresses Jenna designed in her shop. Her off-the-rack creations, which carried a much more reasonable price tag, were made in a factory at the edge of town, and sold in department stores everywhere. “Your dad and stepmother, too,” Lewis continued.
Her lips took on a mutinous tilt. “I told them not to worry.”
Lewis drove as slowly as possible. “What happened in London anyway?” He stopped at a traffic light.
Lexie shrugged. “The usual. First I had to deal with my mother.”
When the light turned green, Lewis continued on down the street. “She still lives in Europe, right?”
“Italy. Right.”
“She married some Italian count, didn’t she?” Lewis kept the conversation going as he parked in front of the boutique.
“Riccardo della Gheradesca.” Lexie got a pinched look on her face. She vaulted from the truck, and waited for Lewis to get his keys out of the ignition and catch up with her. “Anyway, after—” Lexie broke off, then tried again. “I was in Italy, seeing my mother and going to the funeral and all that…”
Lewis blinked. “Funeral?”
“Riccardo died last month.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Lexie shrugged, her expression more numb than grief-stricken. “I barely knew him. The Count had no interest in children and, truthfully, neither does my mother. But the funeral was a pretty big deal, and she wanted me there, so I had to go.”
“Your mom must be really upset.”
Lexie nodded and looked even more distressed. “Anyway, from Naples I went to Japan for a major film festival there—”
Lewis waited while she punched in the security code that would let her in the building. “That sounds like fun.”
She led the way through a dimly lit interior hallway to the stairs. “It was a nightmare. I had four clients all needing my help, all the time, all trying to elbow each other aside.”
He chuckled at the low note of exasperation in her voice. “No wonder you had acid reflux.”
“Anyway, from there I went on to London,” Lexie continued, apparently unaware just how sexily her stylish jeans cupped her lower half. “One of my clients was simultaneously trying to change her image and making her debut on the London stage. She couldn’t articulate what it was she wanted for her publicity appearances on British television, and I tried every look imaginable. Nothing was pleasing her. The next thing I knew I’d fainted dead away in Knightsbridge, and they’d rushed me to the hospital. My father came right over on his private jet and whisked me back to Texas.”
Lewis studied her in puzzlement. “The doctors there didn’t diagnose your reflux?”
Lexie shrugged, punched in another security code and then opened the door to the apartment. She hit the lights and led the way inside to what looked to be a two-room apartment, with living room and kitchenette in front, bedroom and bath in back. It was professionally decorated in the same shades of pale pink and cream as the boutique downstairs. “I didn’t tell them about my symptoms.”
Lewis watched her saunter over to the fridge. “Lexie!”
She brought out two plastic bottles of blackberry-flavored water and tossed him one. He caught it with one hand.
“It didn’t seem to have anything to do with my passing out. I was jet-lagged and exhausted.” Lexie frowned as she struggled unsuccessfully with the cap of her bottle. “I hadn’t been eating right since I was still recovering from the nonstop bout of ‘indigestion’ I’d had in Cannes. They concluded that I needed a few days of rest.”
Lewis took the top off his and did a trade with her. “If that’s the case, I don’t get why you and your father are quarreling.”
“Because,” Lexie enunciated clearly, “my father doesn’t respect me or what I do for a living. Bottom line, he wants me to quit working as a celebrity stylist and come home to Laramie to stay.”

LEXIE COULD SEE THAT Lewis did not think that was such a formidable offense.
“He was probably just upset.”
Lexie stalked over to one of the cream-colored sofas and sank down onto it. “Gee. You think?”
Lewis followed, looking very handsome and very much at home in the soft lighting of the small but luxuriantly appointed apartment. “As soon as you get better—”
Lexie watched as he sat down next to her. “My father’s still going to want me to leave Tinseltown for good.”
Lewis took a long draught of flavored water, then let the bottle rest on his muscular thigh. “What do you want?”
That, Lexie thought, was the dilemma. She didn’t really know.
“You do like your career, don’t you?” he persisted.
She looked into his lively blue-gray eyes. “I did.”
“Until…?” Lewis asked.
Lexie tried not to think what he would look like without the sexy wire-rimmed glasses. She swallowed hard. “A few months ago.”
He stretched out his long, jean-clad legs. “What happened?”
She sighed, relieved to finally be able to bare her soul to someone impartial. “Nothing out of the ordinary, really. There was no great epiphany or anything like that.”
The way Lewis was looking at her, as if he really wanted to understand her, prompted her to continue. “I just got tired of always being on a plane, always being at the whim of a client—a hundred clients, actually. I stopped waking up every morning wanting to go to work and meet the challenges ahead. Instead, I had to pull myself out of bed.”
Tenderness radiated from his slight smile. “Maybe you just need a rest.”
And maybe, Lexie thought wearily, pushing both hands through her hair, she needed a new life. Although what she would do, besides being a celebrity stylist, she didn’t know. Thanks to the fact she had dropped out of college to follow Constantine Romeo to Hollywood, she wasn’t prepared to do anything else. Besides, who gave up a lucrative six-figure career and professional acclaim to find themselves? She was remarkably successful for a twenty-seven-year-old. She’d be considered a fool for even trying to find something else to do for a living.
Lewis drained his bottle and put it aside. “Have you said any of this to Jenna or your dad?”
“No.” Lexie traced the condensation on the outside of her water bottle with the tip of her index finger.
He touched the back of her hand with the back of his. “How do you think he would react?”
She luxuriated in the warmth of skin to skin. “He’d be relieved.”
“Because he doesn’t want you tending to celebrities,” Lewis guessed.
Lexie bit her lip. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?” He turned toward her slightly, to better see her face.
Lexie began to pace the carpeted room. “My father thinks my profession is a joke, that in helping celebrities develop an individual style and image that I’m perpetuating at best a myth, and at worst, fraud.”
“Ouch!” Lewis tugged facetiously at the frayed neckline of his band-collared shirt as if it were choking him.
Happy to have someone understand how outrageous her father’s views were, Lexie stopped trying to contain her emotions. “He’s basically said if a person doesn’t know what to wear, or how to present themselves, then they have more problems than I can solve for them.”
Lewis winced. “When did he say this?”
She shrugged. “Five years ago, when my business really started taking off.”
Lewis got to his feet. “Because of the work you did for Constantine Romeo?” he asked, coming toward her.
Lexie nodded and headed back to the kitchen, this time to the cabinets next to the stove. She rummaged through them, until she found a box of saltines on the uppermost shelf. When she couldn’t quite snag it, Lewis reached up and got it for her. “That’s another sore subject between us,” she allowed, their fingertips brushing as he handed her the box.
He lounged against the cabinets, watching her open a wax packet and withdraw several crackers. “They didn’t get along?”
She offered him some, too. “My dad never forgave Constantine for taking me to Hollywood with him. Or me, for running off with him.” As always, the bland flavor of the cracker comforted her finicky tummy.
“You were just nineteen at the time.”
Lexie hunted in the fridge to see if there was any cheddar cheese. To her disappointment, there wasn’t. She got the peanut butter out instead. “Believe me, I know.”
“Regrets?” Lewis asked softly.
“More than you can count,” she admitted as she spread peanut butter on several crackers.
He smiled. “But that’s how we learn, right? By our mistakes.”
“You betcha.”
They both ate six or seven crackers. The silence between them was at once companionable, and fraught with a new tension that Lexie preferred not to identify. “How are you feeling?” Lewis asked finally.
She took a long drink, then shared what was left of her water with him. “The truth?”
He nodded, holding her eyes.
“Sleepy.”
He pushed away from the counter reluctantly. “Then I should be going.”
For some reason, Lexie did not want him to leave. Not yet. “What time is it?” she asked.
Lewis glanced at his watch. “Nearly four.”
“You must be tired, too,” she commiserated.
He shrugged.
“Want to stay and sack out on the couch?” The words were out before she could stop them.
Lewis paused.
Letting him know this was a strictly platonic move on her part, she teased, “I’d offer you the bed if I thought you’d take it.”
Desire lit up his blue-gray eyes. “Only if you’re in it, too.”
Lexie gasped. “Lewis!” she chided as heat filled her face.
He looked her square in the eye. “I may be a computer geek up here—” he pointed to his head “—but I’m a man down here.” He indicated the rest of him.
As if she hadn’t already secretly noticed how well he filled his jeans. Wishing he didn’t look so damn sexy Lexie looked away. “I’m beginning to realize that,” she said drolly.
“And you’ve already had one rough couple of days.” Lewis reached up to gently touch her face. His thoughts undoubtedly amorous, he looked down at her tenderly and caressed her cheekbone with the pad of his thumb.
Doing her best to slow her racing heart, she bantered back carelessly, “So you’re not offering to seduce me?” And why did she suddenly wish he were? Just because she had been totally in awe of him in their youth, did not mean they were right for each other.
“Not tonight.” Lewis bent his head, kissed her gently—and far too briefly. Not that this lessened the impact of his caress in any way. The feel of his lips brushing ever so sweetly over hers inundated Lexie with a longing unlike anything she had ever felt or imagined she could feel. An explosion of pleasure and need went off inside her, and she looked at him. What was happening here? Lexie wondered, struggling not to go up on tiptoe and kiss him back. She couldn’t be attracted to Lewis McCabe, could she? He wasn’t even her type. She fell for the smooth ones. The ones with all the lines. Not the ones who were so challenged in the wardrobe and personal style department it would take her professional guidance to get him straightened out; and even longer to make him into the complete babe magnet she knew he already was. At least to her. She privately admitted she didn’t want every other woman in his orbit feeling the same way.
Lexie caught herself up short. Aware she had already veered into dangerous territory, she said, “On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t be the one consulting with you on your new look.” It was too close to what she had done before. Taking on a man, making him her personal project. Helping him become everything he could be, only to have him leave her in the end. She did not want to go through that again. And she especially did not want to do that here in Laramie, Texas, under the watchful eyes of both their families.
Lewis grinned with a distinctly male satisfaction. “Too late,” he declared, cheerful as ever. “We already made a deal. I’m holding you to it.”
Lexie caught her breath, even as she wished he would kiss her again. Really kiss her this time. Not just tease her with the hope of what could possibly be.
“I’ll sack out on the sofa.” Lewis stepped back, ever the gentleman again. “That way, if you need anything, all you have to do is call,” he promised her softly. “I’ll be right here.”
Lewis McCabe had no idea how good that sounded to her.

Chapter Three
Lewis spent a good hour and a half thinking about the incredibly sweet and sensual kiss he’d shared with Lexie. He fell asleep dreaming about her and awakened to sunlight pouring in through the windows and someone pounding on the apartment door. Fearing all the ruckus was going to wake Lexie, he grabbed his shirt off the back of the sofa and struggled to his feet. Thrusting his arms in the sleeves, he rushed to open the apartment door.
Standing on the other side of the portal was a haughty-looking fiftysomething blonde in an expensive designer suit and high heels. Everything about her, from her immaculately coiffed hair to the heavy jewels adorning her body, bespoke tremendous wealth.
“I am Contessa Melinda della Gheradesca from Italy.”
Lexie’s mother.
Her glance drifted over his open shirt, bare chest and shoeless feet. Disdain coating every word, the Contessa demanded, “Who are you?”
Before he could answer, an equally disheveled Lexie stepped out.
It was Lexie’s worst nightmare come true, and then some. “Mother.” She trod closer, aware how the situation must look, since she was clad in another of her stepmother’s ethereal creations.
Melinda’s eyebrows arched even higher as she took in the plunging neckline of the black lace negligee Lexie was wearing. Lewis couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her, either. Trying hard not to blush, Lexie pulled the equally revealing black lace robe over her chest and folded her arms in front of her to keep it there. Steadfastly ignoring the flare of desire in Lewis’s eyes, she whirled back to the woman who had given birth to her, but never really nurtured her. “Mother. What are you doing here?”
Melinda touched a bejeweled hand to her immaculately coiffed hair. “Your father told me you were ill—I came as soon as I heard.”
That was a first, Lexie thought. Melinda hadn’t done more than telephone Lexie—albeit reluctantly—when she’d been hospitalized with pneumonia in the sixth grade. Nor had she ever tended to her personally if Lexie became ill when visiting. Instead, Melinda left her with a nurse until Lexie’s sniffles or tummy ailment cleared. Melinda was about as emotionally uninvolved a mother as could be, which made her appearance here now all the more strange. “When did he call you?” she asked.
“When he was en route with you from London. And I talked to him again two hours ago when my jet landed in Dallas. I must say, he did not mention anything about you—your new— Have you gone mad, taking a lover here in Laramie? Alexandra, for heaven’s sake! You can do so much better than this!”
Lexie flashed a deliberately cheerful smile. “Might want to be careful who you’re insulting, Mother,” she warned pleasantly. “This is Lewis McCabe, owner of McCabe Computer Games.”
Not a flicker of recognition, Lexie noted in frustration. “It’s the fastest growing computer game company in the country right now.” Melinda remained unmoved. Lexie took a deep breath and tried again to impress upon her mother why she should not denigrate Lewis further. “Or in other words, Lewis is a very wealthy and successful man, and destined to become even more so in the very near future.”
“Thanks for the stellar introduction,” Lewis said dryly, giving her a quelling look.
Lexie shrugged. Bringing up the cash value of anything was the quickest way to get her mother’s attention.
“I don’t understand,” Melinda said, as contemptuous as ever with someone she considered an underling. “Why is he here, Alexandra? Why are you both dressed—or maybe I should say undressed—like this? Your father never mentioned a boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Lexie interrupted quickly.
To her chagrin, Melinda sighed in obvious relief.
A uniformed chauffeur appeared behind Melinda, his arms full of luggage. “Where should I put these, madam?”
Melinda gestured to the middle of the room. “You can set my things here.”
Lexie gaped. “You’re staying with me?”
Her mother huffed. “Well, I can hardly bunk at your father’s ranch with him and Jezebel. And the lodgings in the area leave something to be desired. Actually, the whole town leaves something to be desired. I’ll never understand why your father left Dallas. When we were married, we had such a lovely home there.”
Here we go again. Lexie was aware that her mother blamed all of Lexie’s shortcomings on the fact that she’d been raised in Texas.
“And speaking of home, I better mosey on back to mine,” Lewis said tactfully, graciously closing the distance between them. His eyes met hers. He seemed to know she was as unnerved by her mother’s sudden appearance on her doorstep as he was. “Lexie—”
She nodded, letting him know his decision to depart was the right one. Glad he seemed to understand that she had no control whatsoever over her mercurial mother, she squeezed his hand and looked him in the eye. “I’ll call you,” she promised.
Just as soon as I find out what my mother is really doing here.

FORTUNATELY, ONCE LEWIS got to the office, he finally managed to shake off the unsettling encounter with the Contessa. He was able to strike a deal that would get his line of computer games shelved in yet another retail chain. The prototypes of two games showed substantial improvement, and the talented graphics designer he had been trying to hire to work exclusively for his company finally accepted his offer.
At four-thirty, his assistant, Maxine Cossman, stuck her head in the door. A whiz at organization, the stout fifty-year-old with the curly red hair and thick glasses kept him on track. “Lexie Remington is here to see you,” she remarked briskly. “I told her you had a prior engagement this evening. She hoped you would see her without an appointment anyway.”
Lewis rocked all the way back in his chair. This was a pleasant, albeit somewhat inconvenient, surprise. “Send her in. And Maxine, you can go on to your yoga class if you want.”
“Thanks.”
Maxine disappeared and a few moments later Lexie sauntered in. She was wearing a pair of slim black jeans, a long-sleeved white T-shirt, a cropped red corduroy jacket and boots. She looked amazing. “You’re supposed to be resting,” Lewis chided as she neared, enveloping him in a drift of exotic perfume.
“Been there, done that,” Lexie said sassily, perching on the front of his desk, just to his left.
Lewis tried to ignore the proximity of her long, sexy thigh next to his hand. Ignoring the jump of his pulse, he tilted his head at her and continued to regard her with lazy insouciance. “You’re aware that if you don’t follow doctor’s orders, I’ll be blamed.”
She crossed her legs at the knee. “What’s Riley going to do? Twist your arm?”
Lewis grinned at her soft, teasing tone. “Worse. He’ll give me a guilt trip.”
Lexie wrinkled her nose at him. “You look like you can handle a little remorse, provided it’s balanced by a good time.”
No kidding. It was all he could do to keep himself from dragging her down onto his lap and kissing her the way he had wanted to kiss her the night before, with no time limits and attempts at gentlemanly behavior. He didn’t want to be gallant. He wanted to give in to temptation. But he knew pushing her too hard, too fast, would be a huge mistake on his part, so he held back.
“Is that what you’re planning to give me?” He regarded her flirtatiously. “A good time?”
Flushing self-consciously, Lexie pushed away from his desk and bounded onto the floor. “Maybe we should just get down to business.” Her gaze drifted over him, his body heating with each lingering visual caress.
Lewis tensed, aware his feelings were anything but transactional. Maybe his brothers and sister-in-law were right. Now was the time to level with Lexie, while boundaries were still being set. “About that style makeover…” he started carefully.
Lexie stripped off her jacket and regarded him purposefully. “I want to get started tonight,” she stated, already pushing up the sleeves on her knit shirt. “Got a problem with that?”
“No sirree, I do not,” he quipped, deciding to see where this makeover stuff took him, after all. He’d tell her about the misunderstanding later. “What about your mom? Are you just going to leave the Countess alone, during her first evening in Laramie?”
“She’s sleeping. The jet lag and seven-hour time difference finally caught up with her.”
“So for her it’s midnight,” Lewis guessed, glad Lexie had sought refuge with him, even if it was for work-related reasons.
“Right.” Lexie lounged with her back to a metal file cabinet.
He strolled closer. “Does that mean she’ll be awake when you get home at midnight?”
She made a face that would have been comical if not for the sudden vulnerability in her pretty turquoise eyes. “Doubtful. The Contessa usually sleeps until noon at home. She reserves her afternoons for shopping or hair appointments, her evenings for social events.”
“Ah.” Lewis watched Lexie walk over to inspect the half-dozen umbrellas. He could always remember to bring an umbrella. He could just never remember to take it home. What that meant, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
Lexie picked up one emblazoned with the Stanford University logo. She inspected it, end to end. “The Contessa leads an exceptionally busy life, you know. She’s a very important and socially well-connected person.”
Lewis followed her over to the stand. He sensed she needed to vent, and he was only too happy to listen. “You don’t have much respect for your mother, do you?” he asked in a low voice.
Lexie dropped the umbrella into the large, galvanized metal milk can. She picked up another he had picked up on one of his business trips. It was an unfortunate color of purple, but had been the only one available during the unexpected deluge he’d found himself in.
“No,” she said, “I don’t.”
The lack of apology in her expressive turquoise eyes was interesting to say the least. As was the career path she had chosen. Why had Lexie chosen a profession that had her constantly catering to the whims of people much like her snobbish, self-involved mother? “Ever thought of having that kind of life yourself?” he asked, playing devil’s advocate. She could have easily gone the pampered dilettante route, instead of working herself half to death.
She dropped the purple umbrella back into the can with a clang. “No, of course not. I’d be bored silly if all I did was go to parties.”
The lusciousness of her full lips had his gaze returning to her face again. “Is that why you can’t seem to slow down?”
Lexie mocked him with a look. “I am slowing down,” she declared emphatically. “I spent the whole day in bed, pretending to sleep.”
“Or avoiding your mother?”
She wrinkled her pretty nose at him, even as she inspected a small, rainbow-striped umbrella he’d also picked up on the run. “You are psychic,” she said playfully.
He shook his head, watching Lexie close the child-sized umbrella and put it back in the can, quietly this time. Lewis would give anything if he could spend time with his own mother again. But it wasn’t going to happen. They’d lost her to cancer when he was ten. “You ought to spend time with your mom while you have the chance,” he advised soberly.
Silence fell as Lexie stuck her hands in her pockets and said nothing, which made Lewis wonder if Jake Remington weren’t the only parent Lexie was fighting with. “How is your mom doing, by the way?” he asked gently, deciding to try a different tact.
She rocked forward and studied the scuffed toes of her red leather boots. “You saw the Contessa this morning.”
Wishing he knew Lexie well enough to haul her into his arms and hold her there until the hurting stopped, Lewis edged close enough to inhale the fragrant softness of her skin and hair. “Physically, your mom looked great. But she just lost her husband. That can’t be easy.”
“Yeah.” Tension tightened the delicate features of her face. “She’d never admit it, but I think she’s finding widowhood a little tougher to navigate than she imagined.”
Lewis heard the sympathy beneath the defiance in Lexie’s low tone. “Which is maybe why she came over to visit you,” he theorized.
The troubled look was back in Lexie’s pretty eyes. “Maybe, but my mother never does anything without an agenda.”
Lewis walked back over to his desk and shut down the e-mail and instant messaging system on his computer. “What agenda could she have here?” he asked. “Except to be close to you?”
“That’s just it. I don’t know.” Lexie’s teeth worried her lower lip as she inspected the mismatched furniture and state-of-the-art electronics in his office. “Financially, she’s fine.” She dropped down onto the black leather sofa in the corner. “Count Riccardo’s lawyers read the will when I was over there. He had no other family left so Mother got everything—all the family jewelry, tons of money, the villa in Naples, the country house in Florence.”
Lewis closed the distance between them and sat down next to her. “Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”
“You’d think so.” She stretched her slender legs out in front of her. “But…”
“What?” he prodded.
“She seems so edgy. Restless.”
Giving in to the need to comfort her, Lewis reached over and took her hand in his. “Isn’t that to be expected?” he asked gently. “She just lost her companion of the last twenty years.”
Lexie shook her head and left her hand clasped warmly in his. She ran the fingers of her free hand over the back of his. “They didn’t really have that kind of marriage.”
Trying not to get distracted by the heat of her caress, Lewis shifted his weight toward her. “What kind did they have?”
“Passionate, volatile.” She swallowed hard. “They were both very old-world European in their outlook.”
Lewis studied the veiled pain in her eyes. He tightened his hand protectively over hers. “I don’t get what you’re trying to say.”
Lexie’s voice took on an unhappy tone. “They both had lovers, lots of them, and they were okay with that.”
Lewis could only envision how hard that must have been for Lexie, who would have been exposed to that from the tender age of six. Bad enough to have your parents divorced and remarried, living on different continents. To have one set openly cheating… “Kind of the opposite of your dad and Jenna,” Lewis surmised compassionately.
“Yeah, those two are really devoted to each other.” Lexie smiled reflectively. “Kind of like your Dad and Kate.”
Lewis knew his own life would have been a lot harder had Kate Marten not stepped in to help him and the rest of his family deal with the loss of his mother. Kate’s love and understanding had healed his family and brought love and laughter to their lives again. “We both lucked out in the stepmother department, didn’t we?”
Lexie nodded. “So, are you ready to get to work?” she asked. Energetic as ever, she perched on the edge of the sofa.
Lewis kept a grip on her palm, wishing the situation were different. “Not quite yet,” he said.
Lexie looked frustrated. “What’s stopping you?”
Lewis frowned. “My previous plans for the evening.”

“YOU’VE GOT A DATE.” She didn’t know why, but just the thought of him seeing someone else was very disheartening.
“With about sixteen people.”
Now he had lost her.
“I’m hosting the monthly Laramie High School computer club get-together,” Lewis explained. “The kids will be here at six.” Noting the time, he said, “I’ve got to get the testing lab ready.” An inviting smile curved his lips. “You can tag along if you like.”
She regarded him in amazement. “You do this yourself?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Used to being around people who lorded their wealth and power over others at every opportunity, Lexie shook her head in bemusement. “You own an entire company.”
“It doesn’t mean I’m above getting out some game prototypes and ordering pizza and soft drinks.” Lewis returned to his desk and typed in something on his computer screen. The menu for Mac Callahan’s restaurant popped up. He gestured her over. “Anything here look good to you?”
Lexie moved behind his desk chair. She curved her hands over the back of it, as she bent down to scan the offerings from Laramie’s favorite pizza place. “The hot wings,” she said quickly.
Lewis turned to shoot her a glance, the side of his face lightly brushing the side of hers. “Not quite on your diet,” he chided.
Refusing to acknowledge how sexy she found the brush of his evening beard against the softness of her skin, she shrugged.
Lewis turned back to the menu, clearly a man on a mission. “How about a white pizza?” he asked, after a moment. “Crust, olive oil, fresh mozzarella. Nothing there to get your acid reflux going, especially if we ask them to go easy on the basil and garlic.”
Lexie appreciated the way he was taking care of her. No one—except her dad and Jenna—had done that for a very long time. “Sounds good,” she said, surprised by the sudden huskiness of her voice. Aware the backs of her hands were still brushing the hard musculature of his shoulders, she stepped back and cleared her throat. “What is everyone else going to eat?”
“A little of everything,” Lewis said, typing in the appropriate choices on his computer and then sending the delivery order via the Internet.
Doing her best to calm her racing heart, Lexie roamed the spacious office, which did as little to reflect Lewis’s personality as his ridiculously out-of-fashion clothing. Both were things she could fix. In that way, she realized, she’d be taking care of him, too. Lexie paused to study one of the many awards hanging on the wall. “It’s been a long time since I had Mac Callahan’s pizza,” she said in the most casual tone she could manage. “Mac still works there?”
“Along with his daughter, Casey,” Lewis confirmed with a smile. He rose and crossed to her side.
“Funny how some things never change,” Lexie continued awkwardly, acutely aware of how arousing she found Lewis’s formidable size and masculine strength.
Oblivious to the ardent nature of her thoughts, he led the way out of the office and down the hall to a testing laboratory.
“This is where the kids are going to meet?” Lexie asked, wondering if he wanted to kiss her—really kiss her—as much as she wanted to kiss him.
He winked at her. “Since you’re the one who’s got me running behind schedule, make yourself useful.” Lewis handed her a box of computer games with the McCabe logo. “And put one of these at every station, please.”
Glad for the distraction from her thoughts, Lexie complied.
“How did you get involved in this?” she asked after a moment.
“The kids asked me to sponsor a monthly event. I know what a great group it is—I was president of the computer club when I was at Laramie High School—so of course I said yes.”
“That’s really nice of you,” she said sincerely.
Shrugging off the compliment, he moved to the other side of the room, dropping a game CD at every station. “It’s the least I could do,” he told her. “I know how hard it is to be a computer nerd amidst all the athletes and popular kids.”
Lexie hadn’t ever really fit in, either. “And yet look at where you are today.” They met again, in the center of the room.
“Right here.” Lewis wrapped both arms around her waist and drew her against him. Without warning, every secret fantasy she had ever had about him turned real. His voice turned husky. “With you.”
Lexie trembled at the feel of his hard body, pressed up against her. His fingers brushed down her face, stroked along her jaw. Her skin heated and the pulse at the base of her neck fluttered wildly. Determined to keep some connection with reality, she batted her eyelids and teased, “Why, Lewis McCabe.” She affected her best Texas belle drawl. “Are you hitting on me?”
Sifting both his hands through her hair, he lowered his head and tilted his face slightly to the right. He moved in even closer, all sexy, determined male. His eyes darkened to a smoky blue-gray. “What if I am?”
Lexie moaned as his lips captured hers and he invaded her mouth with his tongue. If the caress the night before had been full of promise and yet restrained, this one was so deliberately sensual it took her breath away. No one had ever kissed her like this, as if he had waited his entire life for her. No one had ever made her feel like this, she realized—so warm and wanted and feminine. His lips made a slow, mesmerizing exploration of hers. Swept up in the embrace, Lexie forgot she was supposed to be forging a strictly professional relationship with him. He kissed her until she moaned softly and clung to him, until every inch of her was tingling with need. Lexie hadn’t meant for anything like this to happen but she was powerless to resist. Lewis’s seduction left her vulnerable, and aching for more. It left her wanting to see where this would lead. Had it not been for the sudden, jarring sound of a phone ringing on the wall just behind them, and the collection of youthful voices coming ever closer, who knew what would have happened next.
The awareness they were no longer alone forced them to draw apart. To her surprise—and yes, pleasure—Lewis looked as completely affected as she felt, even as the guilt that she shouldn’t be getting involved with a “client” filtered through her. She had done that to disastrous results once before. Did she really want to do it again? Mold a man into every woman’s fantasy only to have him leave her behind, once he had gotten what he wanted…?
Her emotions in turmoil, she turned away from Lewis and spotted a group of high school kids coming down the hall, then filtering into the computer testing lab. It seemed to be about half guys and half girls, Lexie noted. All were dressed in jeans and gaming T-shirts. Name tags were plastered to their chests. Most of the kids, like Lewis, were somewhat challenged in the personal style department. But all were very happy to see him. He was obviously a hero to them, and Lexie could see why. Not many men as successful as Lewis would take the time to mentor a group of high school kids.
“What game are we trying out tonight?” Percy McNamara asked eagerly.
Lewis moved to the center of the group. “It’s called ‘The Deal Maker.’ It’s a game that puts the player in mythical business situations. The goal is to win each task without losing your moral compass or compromising your ethics.”
A young girl with frizzy hair and glasses teased, “Are you trying to educate us, Mr. McCabe?”
Lewis winked. “Or teach you all how to become self-made millionaires without landing in jail.”
Guffaws all around. The room reverberated with excitement. Lexie enjoyed seeing Lewis in his element. It gave her a sense of what kind of father he would be one day. “You’ve got ninety minutes until the pizza arrives,” Lewis said, directing the eager group to their stations. He returned to Lexie’s side and eased her toward a gaming station, too.

“THANKS FOR HOSTING this event, as always,” the club sponsor, Josephine Holdsworth, told Lewis as the three of them walked toward the lobby. The computer science teacher at LHS was pretty and single and—if Lexie’s instincts were correct—as romantically interested in the school organization’s most famous benefactor as she was.
“My pleasure,” Lewis replied, showing no evidence that he knew the pert redhead had a giant-sized crush on him.
“And thank you for attending our meeting, too,” Josephine continued, regarding Lexie warmly. Josephine paused to shrug on her coat, before stepping out into the brisk autumn air. “I don’t think the students know what you do for a living, but I certainly do. The spread they did on your clients in In-Fashion Magazine last year was downright amazing.”
“Thanks,” Lexie said.
“I’d heard from some of the other faculty who grew up here, too, that you were from this area.” Josephine’s expression faltered slightly. She swallowed and completed her fact-finding mission. “But I had no idea you were dating Lewis.”
Lexie blushed, aware that if she let this misconception stand it would be all over Laramie in no time. “No. We’re not. I would never…” she stammered, wishing she had never agreed to let him employ her as his stylist. Then this wouldn’t be such a dilemma. She could let the rumors fly and just see where their obvious attraction to one another led. But she had a professional reputation to protect. Lexie gulped and forced herself to continue, “Lewis is a cl—”
“Friend,” Lewis interrupted, before she could finish the word. He stepped slightly in front of her. “Lexie and I are friends, Josephine.”
Josephine beamed. “Oh.” She fished in her handbag for her car keys. “Well, in that case, perhaps Lexie would consider making an appearance at the LHS Career Night on Tuesday evening, too? The students would love to hear about your profession.”
Lexie smiled. “I’d be glad to participate.”
“Great! We’ll see you both then,” she announced cheerfully.
Lewis watched as Josephine exited, then turned back to Lexie. “Sorry I had to cut you off like that.”
Lexie studied the guilty expression on his handsome face. She planted her boots firmly on the marble lobby floor. “Why did you?”
He moved toward her, not stopping until they stood toe to toe. “I didn’t want word getting out that I had hired you to help me.”
She propped her hands on her hips and lifted her chin. “Don’t you think they’re going to figure it out when you start looking a whole lot different after spending concentrated time with me?”
Lewis’s probing glance made a leisurely tour of her body before returning to her eyes. “Well, maybe not so much if people thought we were dating,” he offered in an offhand tone.
“Right,” Lexie said dryly, savvy enough to realize when someone was embarrassed by what she did for a living. “Then they would just think you were whipped. That’d be sooo much better.”
Lewis caught her by the arms and turned her to face him. “If word got out we were dating, would that be so bad?”
She ignored the warmth of his fingers that penetrated the layers of her clothing. “Yes. You’re a client,” she reminded him, delicately extricating herself from his grip.
“But people here don’t know that,” he insisted.
“But I do,” Lexie retorted stubbornly. “And I don’t date clients, Lewis.”
He paused to come up with a new strategy. “Then we’ll just have to tell people we’re spending time together because we’re friends.”
“You’d rather do that than let word get out you hired a stylist to help you change your image?” she asked in disbelief.
“Yes.” Lewis’s jaw was set.
Her heart pounding, Lexie fell silent as she studied the half-hidden apology in his eyes. “You’re that ashamed of what I’m trying to do for you?” she asked, even as she struggled to ignore her reaction to his nearness.
Lewis released a frustrated breath. “Is that a trick question?” He peered at her from behind his lenses.
Temper flaring, Lexie rummaged through her shoulder bag for her keys. Thank heavens her stepmother and father had loaned her a ranch pickup to drive while she was in town, so she didn’t have to rely on Lewis McCabe for her transportation home. “It’s an honest inquiry,” she replied in a voice laced with steel. She paused to look up at him and let their glances mesh, sorry now she had kissed him at all. “And yours was an honest answer.” She held the keys so tight they pinched her palm. Chin held high, she marched past him, toward the exit.
Lewis fixed her with an exasperated look. “Where are you going?”
She barreled past. “None of your concern.”
“Lexie. Come on.”
She ignored the entreaty in his tone and tossed him a withering look over her shoulder as she sped through the double glass doors. Bad enough she had doubts about her chosen vocation—she didn’t need to hear them from him! “Find yourself another stylist to help you, Lewis,” she snapped. “I’m out of here.”

Chapter Four
“Please, Mrs. R., you’ve got to help me,” Lewis said.
Jenna Remington shook her head at Lewis. “To tell you the truth, Lewis, after what you said to Lexie last night, I think it’s hopeless.”
“I didn’t mean to insult her.” Lewis followed Jenna around the stylish dress boutique.
With a shrug of her slender shoulders, Jenna glided past rows of couture wedding dresses bearing the Jenna Lockhart Remington label, to a rack of equally dazzling evening dresses. “But you did insult her profession and hurt her feelings, Lewis. So maybe it’s best you just let Lexie be.”
Lewis ignored the lanky teenage girl who paraded out of the dressing room area in a bright blue beaded evening gown. “I can’t leave things the way they are between us.”
“Just a minute, hon,” Jenna told Lewis. She swept over to the customer and helped her onto the pedestal in front of the three-way mirror. “What do you think of this one, Sydney?”
“I don’t know. It looks so…adult,” Sydney said, turning this way and that in the beautiful gown. She lifted her gazellelike neck. “I look like I’m twenty-three or something.”
“Not the look you’re going for,” Jenna surmised thoughtfully while Lewis waited impatiently for them to finish so he could get back to finding a way to get back in Lexie’s good graces.
Sydney flung her waist-length copper hair over her shoulder. “No! Looking older than you are can really date an actress!” She lifted her hair off the nape of her neck experimentally.
“What age would you like to appear?” Jenna asked seriously.
“Seventeen. The same age I’m going to be in the movie I just did,” Sydney replied, studying how she looked with her hair twisted in a knot on top of her head.
The door to the boutique jangled. Swearing inwardly at the additional interruption, Lewis turned in the direction of the sound and saw Lexie and her mother walk in.
As always, the sight of Lexie took his breath away. His spirits sank as he took in the arctic chill in her turquoise blue eyes when their gazes met.
He had really, really screwed up.
Before he had a chance to say anything, Sydney clapped a hand to her chest. Completely ignoring the Contessa, who was dripping in jewels and some sort of fur stole, Sydney gasped in excitement. She hopped off the pedestal and rushed toward Lexie. “I can’t believe it! Lexie Remington, in the flesh! Me, in the same room with the hottest stylist in Hollywood!”
Lexie shot Lewis a brief, withering glare, as if to say, “See? Some people do appreciate me,” then turned back to Sydney with a smile. She extended a gracious hand. “Hi. And you’re…?”
“Sydney Mazero. Hottest new thing in Hollywood.” The young girl blushed self-consciously. “I hope, anyway.”
“Sydney’s movie—Calamity Sue—premieres in Austin at the end of the week,” Jenna explained.
Sydney’s head bobbed up and down. “And I’m still trying to find something to wear that—sorry, Jenna—doesn’t look I’m dressing up in my mother’s clothes!”
Jenna smiled, patient as ever. “No offense taken. My designs are for the older set.”
“Could you help me find something, Lexie? Please?” Sydney clasped her hands in front of her in mute supplication.
“Lexie’s on vacation,” Jenna interrupted.
“Alexandra,” the Contessa interrupted, even more preemptively, “is going to Dallas with me.”
Lexie tensed. “No, I’m not, Mother.”
“Alexandra,” the Contessa corrected, “I thought we had agreed a few days of shopping and staying in a five-star hotel would do wonders for you.”
“Shopping isn’t fun to me, Mother. It’s work. And as Jenna said, I’m on vacation.” Lexie glared at Lewis again, letting him know she was sorry she had ever agreed to forget that and help him.
Sydney looked crestfallen. “I understand,” she said softly. “I’m sorry I put you on the spot by asking. I know you only take the A-list actors now. It’s just the way the business works.”
“Actually,” Lexie said, pausing to give Lewis another telling glare, “I’d be glad to help you pull together an ensemble for the premiere, Sydney. But first I have to tend to a few things, so if you could…just wait…”
“I’ll be in the dressing room.” Sydney picked up her skirt and dashed off.
“That was really nice of you,” Lewis said.
“Wow,” Lexie replied sweetly, “how nice of you to approve.”
Ouch.
The phone rang behind the counter and a saleswoman picked it up. “Just a moment,” she said, putting the caller on hold. “Lexie, Constantine Romeo’s assistant is on the phone. Apparently, Constantine wants you to help him create a look for the European tour of his new movie.”
The Contessa’s eyes lit with interest. “Isn’t that the young man who…?”
“Yes, Mother, it is.” Lexie looked at the salesperson, who was still holding the phone. “Tell him thanks but no thanks. And if his assistant calls again, just do us both a favor and don’t tell me about it.”
“Okay. Sorry, Lexie.”
“No problem.”
Looking out the window, Lewis saw a limo pull up at the curb and a uniformed driver get out. “Alexandra,” the Contessa implored, “I really want you to come with me.”
“I really don’t want to go.”
The Contessa glanced at her watch. “Fine,” she snapped. “I’ll go alone. But when I get back you and I are going to spend time together.”
Lexie merely nodded. The tension in the room lessened markedly as the limo pulled away with Melinda inside.
“I think I’ll go see if Sydney needs anything,” Jenna murmured. She and the saleswoman ducked into the back, leaving Lewis and Lexie to square off with each other.
“For the record, I think you should forgive me,” Lewis began.
“For the record, I think you’re an idiot.”
Lewis shrugged. “No argument there.”
She snorted in a most unladylike fashion. “Why did you even hire me if you didn’t believe in what I do?”
He edged closer. “That’s complicated.”
She glared at him, her breasts rising and falling with every infuriated breath she took. “I’m still listening.”
Lewis continued. “I’ve been hearing for a long time from everyone in my family just how bad my taste in clothes is.”
Lexie’s gaze swept over his orange, brown and white-striped bellbottom pants, brown Nehru jacket and scuffed leather boots. “No kidding,” she said curtly.
“So I know I need help, but I’m also a guy, Lexie.” He waited until she angled her chin up at him before continuing. “And the fact is real men don’t need any help picking out their clothes or deciding how to get their hair cut or whatever. Real men do just fine on their own.”
Without warning, Lexie began to laugh.
He scowled. “It’s not that funny.”
“Yes,” she countered, refusing to let him take himself too seriously, “it is.”
“All right.” Lewis rubbed his jaw ruefully. “Maybe it is. All I know is that I need help in the wardrobe department. I just don’t want to need help. I want to be as skilled at picking out the right clothes as I am at designing a software game, and I’m just not.”
“I get that.” She glided nearer, a mixture of interest and compassion filling her turquoise eyes. “I don’t get how you got stuck in the Eighties.” She looked him over again. “Where do you even find those clothes?”
Somehow, Lewis managed not to look too embarrassed. “Vintage clothing shops, near Stanford University. I’ve got a standing account at a couple of places and they just send me things in my size every three months.”
“And charge you an arm and a leg to boot, I bet.”
Once again, she’d hit the nail on the head. “Clothes like this aren’t that easy to find.”
Lexie sighed. “I can only imagine.”
“It’s a look that worked well for me for the past ten years. As long as I was wearing vintage, I was a trendsetter. The clothes just enhanced my rep as an eccentric genius.”
“So why change?”
“Because despite all my business success, I’m starting to feel like a geek again.”
“But at the same time you’re afraid to change.”
“What if the clothes I select make me the kind of joke I was in high school?” His jaw tightened. “Or don’t you remember?” he asked.
She reached over and gently touched his arm. “Unfortunately, I do. The polyester pants, the bowling shirts with your name on the chest and a lightning bolt on the back.” She withdrew her hand and shook her head.
“Yeah, well, what can I say?” Lewis shrugged and settled on one of the sofas in the center of the dress salon. “Einstein probably didn’t know how to dress, either.”
Lexie plopped down beside him. She stretched out her long, black-suede-clad legs. “At least you put yourself in good company.”
Lewis studied the toes of her black leather boots. “You know what I mean.”
“Yes,” Lexie said, favoring him with a sexy half smile that made him want to take her in his arms and kiss her again, “I do.”
Silence fell between them, more companionable this time. “I still want to hire you.”
Lexie bounded to her feet. “Even though it embarrasses the hell out of you.”
Lewis stood and moved close enough to drink in the sweet, clean fragrance of her skin and hair. “I’ll get over it,” he vowed.
To his chagrin, she looked unconvinced.
“Please, Lexie, you’re the only one I trust to help me.”
She stared up at him thoughtfully. “If I agree to do this—and it’s still a big if, Lewis McCabe—then you have to promise me you won’t back out on me, that you’ll be honest and forthright with me every step of the way and, most important of all, you’ll let everyone in town know that you have hired me to give you a new look and aren’t the least bit embarrassed about that.”
Damn, she drove a hard bargain. Lewis rubbed at the tense muscles in the back of his neck. “I respect what you do for a living, Lexie. And I respect the heck out of you. So you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/cathy-thacker-gillen/blame-it-on-texas/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.