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A Lone Star Love Affair / Falling for the Princess: A Lone Star Love Affair / Falling for the Princess
Sara Orwig
Sandra Hyatt
A Lone Star Love AffairIsabelle Smith isn’t surprised that her new boss, tycoon Tony Ryder, doesn’t remember her. Their night of passion was so long ago… She vows to stay only as long as he never uncovers the truth. So when he does and he makes her an offer, Isabelle thinks fast; she won’t mix business and pleasure without a wedding ring – and Tony isn’t a marrying man. This is the negotiation of their lives!Falling for the Princess Princess Rebecca Marconi needs to stop her father pressuring her into marriage. Logan Buchanan needs her royal influence. These total opposites agree to limit themselves to carefully timed public displays of affection – yet Logan’s thoughts keep straying to hot, sexy and private scenarios. Soon the American millionaire has his passionate princess…


“I’m glad you’re here with me tonight, Isabelle.Whateverthe reason.”
“Tony, try to keep an employer-employee view. That’s all it can be between us. Unless, of course, you decide to become a marrying man.” She suspected that a woman looking for a husband was the last person Tony would want to spend time with.
“I’m not a marrying man. But we can still enjoy an evening out,” he replied smoothly.
Isabelle wished she could remain as cool as he was. “I want a family, so our association outside of work isn’t a good idea.”
“We’ll see about that one,” he said, smiling at her. “I know you know how to enjoy life. I have a very good memory.”
Dear Reader,
A Lone Star Love Affair touches on one of my favourite topics—families. I’ve always been deeply involved with my family. Therefore, family themes run through many of my stories, with parents, children, siblings and other relatives included in the plots.
This time the goals that many have of wanting a family or hoping for success in business are the driving forces of the hero and heroine. In both situations, the goals are family-oriented, coming out of each person’s background.
Beautiful, blonde Isabelle Smith is captivated by Tony Ryder, a dynamic, handsome multimillionaire who is driven to become a billionaire by forty. There’s no room in Tony’s life for marriage or children until he achieves that goal. Tony in turn is dazzled by Isabelle and wants her in his life, but on his terms.
With an overbearing father and a sister he protects and cares about, Tony thinks his goal is absolutely necessary for happiness. Because of her family, Isabelle’s motivations clash totally with Tony’s, and both fight the attraction they feel every time they are together.
A Lone Star Love Affair is a Texas story with the pitfalls, upheavals and problems two people work through because of love.
Thank you for letting me share this story with you.
Sara Orwig
A Lone Star
Love Affair

Sara Orwig

AND

Falling for
the Princess

Sandra Hyatt



www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
A Lone Star
Love Affair

Sara Orwig

About the Author
SARA ORWIG lives in Oklahoma. She has a patient husband who will take her on research trips anywhere from big cities to old forts. She is an avid collector of Western history books. With a master’s degree in English, Sara has written historical romance, mainstream fiction and contemporary romance. Books are beloved treasures that take Sara to magical worlds, and she loves both reading and writing them.
With thanks to Stacy Boyd, Melissa Senate,
Shana Smith and Maureen Walters.

One
Tony Ryder couldn’t suppress his jubilation.
It had taken years for him to acquire Morris Enterprises. Years—plus being in the right place at the right time.
Late at night, he had stepped off the elevator on the nineteenth floor of the twenty-story glass Morris building in downtown Dallas. Wall lights shed a softened glow in the empty corridor as he passed open doors. His father had made offers over the years for this company and never succeeded in acquiring it. Now one giant coup would make his controlling father back off. That made all the hours of work more than worth his efforts. Tony was growing as wealthy as his father and finally gaining the man’s respect.
Tony had grown more pleased with the offices from the lobby to the top floor. Strolling the empty hallway, he paused to look at framed awards mounted on the beige walls. Farther along was a glass-enclosed case of trophies for graphic arts achievements. He noticed the same director’s name on several awards and trophies. Moving on, he passed through open doors into a darkened office and switched on the light. He was in the graphic arts sector—a part of the company that he would change drastically. He intended to retain a few of the graphic arts people and offer the others generous severance packages, absorbing the remaining employees into his own public relations department.
He shut the light and continued along the silent, dimly lit hall, turning at the next open door into an anteroom. Light spilled inside from a doorway. Crossing the anteroom, Tony entered another spacious, elegant office. He stopped abruptly as a blonde looked up.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, surprised and curious to find someone working after ten. His first thought was that he was looking at his most gorgeous employee. As she stood, his gaze drifted swiftly over her. In an all-business navy suit and matching silk blouse, she looked as if she had just arrived at work instead of putting in extra hours. Her blond hair was secured in a roll on the back of her head. He had the strange feeling of meeting her before, but he knew he would have remembered her. A sizzling current startled him. He was caught in wide blue eyes that darkened and mesmerized. Silence stretched until he realized they were entrapped in each other’s gaze. When she touched a paper on her desk, the spell broke.
“You’re working late,” he remarked.
“I believe you, too, are working late,” she replied.
He stepped forward to extend his hand across her desk. “Sorry, I’m Tony Ryder.”
“Isabelle Smith,” she said. “I know who you are.” Her hand was slender, warm, and should have been like other feminine handshakes. Instead, the electric current he had first experienced just at the sight of her, magnified. Startled by his intense reaction, he focused intently on her, momentarily immobilized by his reactions.
“I’m here because I had something to finish. You’re visiting rather late,” she said. “Looking over your new acquisition?”
While her voice was neutral, her eyes were cool and assessing. He sensed she did not approve of him.
“You’re right. And you’re the Morris graphic arts department director.”
“You’ve either done some homework about the business you just bought, or read the sign on my door.” She walked around the desk and motioned to a chair. “Please have a seat,” she said, taking a leather chair that was turned to face him. As she moved closer, he caught a whiff of exotic perfume. “I don’t know whether you actually get involved or have staff who do that for you.”
“I have staff, but I also want to be knowledgeable about my investments,” he said as he sat near her. She crossed her legs and he couldn’t resist one swift glance that made him want to look back for a thorough assessment. She had long, shapely legs. “I’m involved in whatever I own. What’s so urgent to keep you working this late when you know your department will be split up?”
“So the rumors are true,” she remarked, the frostiness in her tone increasing. “I intend to finish a few projects because we’ve already signed contracts. That won’t change with the new management. I feel I need to wind things up before you actually take charge.”
“You say that as if doomsday approaches.”
She shrugged a slender shoulder. “That seems to be your approach to your acquisitions. I’ve done my homework and you have a reputation.”
“Do I now?” he asked, amused. “Tell me what this reputation is.”
“Ambitious. Driven. What I might label ‘smash and grab.’”
He tried to bite back a smile. “I never thought of my actions in such a manner.”
“I’m sure I’m not winning kudos with my new employer, but I suspect it really doesn’t matter what I say. I imagine you’ve already made decisions about the direction you will go.”
“How would you describe yourself? You work far into the night. You’re a director. Ambitious? Driven?”
She smiled faintly. “Touché.”
“So we are both workaholics—there are rewards. Regarding the future of the company, I change only what I feel needs changing. As a director, you’ll retain a position if that relieves your mind.”
“‘A position’—but not necessarily a director? I know changes are coming. I have a feeling you’ve looked into my back ground.”
“So is your family patiently waiting at home?” he asked, having already noticed the absence of a wedding band. Her manicured nails were long. Everything about her looked precise, immaculate, professional. Keeping a barrier around herself, she was reserved with him. She made no effort to hide her resentment of his purchase of the company.
“I’m single. You make the news enough for me to know that you are, too.”
“The single life lends itself to becoming a workaholic. There are far less distractions.”
“You view a family as a distraction.” Even though she spoke in the same tone, her disapproval had obviously escalated.
“At this point in life, family is not for me, because I’m wound up in business. Evidently, not for you, either.”
She gave him a frosty smile.
They were lightly sparring, yet he experienced a scalding attraction that she seemed to also feel—an odd combination he had never encountered. Challenges were always interesting and she was definitely one.
“Do you often work this late?” he asked, enjoying talking to her. She was a beautiful woman, yet she wore the suit as if it were armor, hiding her figure. He rarely received such a cool reception from a gorgeous, single woman, much less one who was his employee. He couldn’t resist the urge to try to break through the puzzling wall she maintained. Was it all men? Or just him, because he had bought out her employer?
“Occasionally,” she replied, tilting her head. “Do you usually work this late?”
“If necessary. I haven’t seen the building and this is a good time to wander freely. It surprised me to find you working.”
“You bought this company sight unseen?”
“The building, offices and layout weren’t significant factors. It’s the people, the departments and what Morris Enterprises is involved in. I’m sure you know that.”
“Yet you’ll change the people and the departments.” Her voice held a touch of frost. Otherwise she sat still, poised, looking as if she discussed an ad campaign.
“Some things will change. I’ve just acquired three highly successful hotel chains, plus a restaurant chain and a trucking business. This will grow my business. Even as we absorb this company, I think we can enlarge Morris Enterprises. You’ve built this department significantly—Morris has grown since you came on board. You have an impressive record,” he said, recalling being briefed on Morris executives’ performance reports. He’d decided then that she held potential, but he would move her down the corporate ladder because she would be going into a larger company. In spite of the compliment, he could not get a smile from her.
“Thank you. No one seems to know when you’ll actually take over and begin changes.”
“Soon. When I do, I’ll interview the executives first,” he said, unable to resist another swift glance at her legs.
“This encounter can almost count as my interview. You’ve asked some direct questions and I’m certain you’ve formed an opinion.”
She was direct, straight-forward and not the least intimidated to be talking to the new owner of her company. She continued, coolly composed, yet along with their matter-of-fact conversation, he felt an undercurrent of awareness.
Amused again, he shook his head. “No, you’ll have your formal interview. This is just a late-night chat, nothing more.”
“Why do I think you’ve already made your decisions?” Big blue eyes stabbed into him.
“I can have an open mind. On the other hand—can you? Morris sold the company to me. I didn’t do any arm-twisting.” He couldn’t resist another brief glance at her long legs. What would she be like when she let down all the barriers?
“You came to him with an offer he couldn’t refuse and you knew he has been on the verge of retirement for the past three years.” This time she didn’t hide the frost. Her voice conveyed a cold anger.
“Can you blame me? This is a first-rate company.”
She looked away and he studied her profile, long thick eyelashes, flawless peaches-and-cream skin, a straight nose—looks that would be unforgettable. Again it crossed his mind that they had met before, yet how could he forget her? If he had met her, the recollection would come.
“If you’ll excuse me, it’s late. I think I’ll close for tonight,” she said, standing.
Amused that he was being dismissed by her, as he stood, he asked, “Can I give you a ride home?”
She shook her head. “Thanks, no. I have my car.”
“I’ll see you out. I’ve been all through the building.” He was unaccustomed to being brushed off by a woman where there was an obvious chemistry between them.
She smiled. “You don’t have to see me to my car. This wasn’t a date.”
“I know I don’t, Ms. Smith.”
“It’s Isabelle.”
“And I’m Tony to my employees,” he said. “I’ll walk out with you. Then I’ll know where to park when I come in Monday.”
“I think you can find the parking spot that will have Reserved on a placard in front of the best space in the lot,” she said.
He watched while she shut down her laptop and placed it in a bag that she shouldered. She pulled keys from the bag, switched off a desk light and turned toward the door. When he blocked her path, she looked up, wide-eyed.
“I wish now we’d met under other circumstances. You’re definitely annoyed with me,” he said.
“It won’t matter. You have many interests and a sprawling enterprise that has absorbed this one. We’ll rarely see each other. I hated to see Morris sold. You can’t blame me for that.”
“I think it’s more than the sale,” he said quietly, standing close enough to smell the perfume she wore. Her blue eyes were incredible, crystal clear, deep blue, thickly lashed. Glacial at the moment. When his gaze lowered to her mouth, he inhaled as he viewed full, heart-shaped lips, a rosy mouth that looked soft.
As he looked, her lips parted and he glanced into her eyes again. For an instant her guard had fallen and the look he caught was warm, receptive. It was gone in a flash as she gave a tiny shake while she passed him.
“It’s very late, Tony …”
Against all human resources training, he reached out and touched her arm. “I don’t have a policy against employees seeing each other off the job, dating, getting engaged or marrying.”
Again that surge of electricity sizzled to his toes as she looked up sharply with a flash of fire in her eyes. But just as suddenly, the fire died and whatever she had been about to say was gone.
“Where I’m concerned, it won’t matter.”
“No deference to your employer?” he asked quietly, fighting an urge to ask her for a drink.
“Tony, it’s getting late,” she whispered, and broke away. He had seen the pink rise in her cheeks. Why was she fighting him and so angry with him? He hadn’t moved her out of her job yet.
Puzzled over the degree of her animosity, he walked with her to the elevators. He pushed a button before she could reach it and they rode down in silence.
He could feel the barriers back in place, the chill in the air between them.
“I saw your ad campaign for the Royal Garden chain. It was well thought out and successful. Bookings jumped after the television ads started,” he said.
“Thank you from my staff and me. They did an excellent job.”
“Do you ever take full credit for anything?” he asked, looking at silky strands of blond hair wound in a roll and wondering how she would look with her hair unpinned.
“If I’m the only one to work on it. Otherwise, I don’t deserve to take all of the credit.”
“Will there ever be a time you can see me in any way other than your employer?”
“Of course. If I leave Morris, or if you do,” she answered sweetly, and he smiled.
When the elevator doors opened, he stepped back to let her exit. He fell into step beside her and they both greeted the night security guard before going outside. Tony crossed the parking lot with her to her car.
“I hope you give my company a chance,” he said. “I have the feeling you’ve already formed an opinion and have one foot out the door.”
“Not yet,” she said, as she clicked her key to unlock her car. While he held her door, she slid behind the wheel.
“I’ll see you next at the reception we’re having for the executives Thursday evening. You will attend, won’t you?”
“Certainly. I believe it’s mandatory unless one is in the hospital.”
“We all need to meet one another.”
She gave him a doubting look as if she didn’t believe a word he said.
“Good night, Isabelle,” he said, wishing he could prolong the time with her.
“Good night,” she replied.
When she started the engine, he walked to his car. As she drove past, her profile was to him and she never glanced around.
“Isabelle Smith,” he said, mulling over her name and the past hour. The only things he knew for certain were that she didn’t like him and she resented his buying out Morris.
He remembered another Smith he had known. She had been a freshman or sophomore in college and he had met her at a party when he had been on campus for a seminar. Her name hadn’t been Isabelle and she had been a carefree, fun-loving, sexy woman. It had been an instant hot attraction that ended in a passionate night together even though she had been a virgin. A blue-eyed blonde with a resemblance to Isabelle Smith, but only a slight similarity and one he dismissed as swiftly as it came to mind. Partying with him, Jessie Smith had been wild, friendly and filled with fun. She had constantly smiled until passion replaced her smiles. He hadn’t forgotten her and he didn’t think he ever would. He couldn’t recall her major or where she was from. Even though he had wanted to, he had never tried to contact her because she would have been too big a distraction in his life at the time. His focus had been on building his fortune. She had faded from his life, but never from his memory. That had been an unforgettable night. There was enough of a resemblance in coloring and name to give him the feeling he had met Isabelle Smith before tonight, but she definitely was no Jessie Smith.
His cell phone beeped, indicating a text from his sister.
As he climbed into his sports car, he paused to read her message. In minutes he headed home. When he entered his neighborhood, he slowed, driving beneath tall trees with thick trunks in one of the oldest areas in Dallas. Bare limbs interlocked overhead, bordering sweeping lawns of two- and three-story mansions. A high, wrought-iron fence surrounded Tony’s property and with a code he opened iron gates. As he wound along the wide driveway, he saw a familiar sports car parked at the front.
He pulled into his garage and entered his house, going straight through to open the front door. A woman with a mass of curly black hair and thickly lashed dark brown eyes matching his stepped out of the parked car and dashed toward his door. She crossed the illuminated wide porch.
He closed the door behind his younger sister. “Sydney, what brings you on the run at this hour?” he asked, smiling at her. He loved his sister.
“Dad. He wanted to see me tonight. I need to talk to you, Tony.”
“Sure. Let’s go to the family room. Want something to drink?”
“Cranberry juice if you have it.”
Several small lights came on automatically as they entered a large room that held comfortable leather furniture, a bar and a large fireplace. Tony crossed to the bar to get a cold beer for himself and juice for his sister.
As soon as he had a fire blazing, he picked up his beer and sat on a chair facing his sister, who sipped her juice. “Okay, let’s hear it. What’s Dad done now?” Tony asked.
“Tony, he’s pressuring me to dump Dylan,” she said, focusing worried brown eyes on her brother.
“So? Sydney, it’s your life. Do what you want,” Tony answered.
“It’s not that easy.” She looked away as if lost in thought. Her gaze returned to Tony. “Dad’s threatened me. If I marry Dylan, he’ll disinherit me.”
“Dammit. That’s drastic. He must have talked to my friend Jake’s dad who held such a threat over Jake’s head. Our dads are old friends and both control freaks. That’s where Dad got this idea of threatening you. It worked with Jake because he married.”
“That’s not all. Dad will stop all support and I’m on my own to finish medical school. I may have to make a choice between med school and Dylan. If I have to choose, Dylan wins. Worst of all, Dad will cut me out of the family completely. ‘Don’t come home’ and all that.”
“Mom won’t go along with any such ultimatum,” Tony said, losing his temper with his interfering father.
“She already has. For once, Mom sat in with us when he talked to me.”
“That’s serious,” Tony remarked, giving his sister his full attention. “I don’t think I’ve ever had Mom step in to back up Dad. I’m shocked.”
“Mom doesn’t like Dylan. She thinks he’s a nobody and will embarrass the family. Even worse, he’s an artist who had to put himself through college by relying on scholarships. It doesn’t matter to them that his grades are excellent or what it took to accomplish sending himself.”
“Graphic art is a respectable career,” Tony answered, thinking about Isabelle, although it had been years since he’d had any worries about his family having to accept a woman in his life. “This is partially why I work like crazy. He’s beginning to back off with me—especially since I acquired Morris Enterprises—because I’m going to make more money than he has and he can see it. Syd, I’m finally getting respect out of him.”
“I doubt if I can ever say that. I thought if I made it through medical school, I would, but I don’t think that any longer. If you’re sympathetic to me at all, it will only increase the tension between you and Mom and Dad. As for Dylan, he just isn’t from our circle of friends and his family is low income with blue- collar jobs. I’m afraid Dad will try every way he can to give Dylan difficulty. He’ll try to sabotage Dylan getting work, or staying with a company. He will try to keep him out of any family gatherings.”
“I don’t think so, Syd. He wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Tony, really,” she snapped, glaring at her brother.
“You’ll know in time. As for the other, I’m one-quarter of this family and I’m not cutting you out, so you can see me on holidays.”
“If you’re even in the country. Thank you for offering, though.”
“And don’t worry about med school. I can support you right now. I have the money and can easily and gladly do it. Just tell me how much and I’ll write the first check tonight,” Tony said, feeling as protective of his sister as ever. Seven years older than Sydney, he had spent his life looking out for her and being a buffer between his parents and her. They had always been close.
“I don’t want you to do that. I didn’t call you to get you to finance me.”
“I can afford it. I want to. End of argument.”
“Oh, Tony,” she said, her eyes filling with tears as she jumped to her feet to run and hug him. “You are the best brother in the whole world.”
“I can support you without missing the money.” He set down his beer. “I’ll get a check.”
“You don’t need to now. Dad hasn’t done anything yet.”
“Don’t wait until he does something. Let me give you a check and you put this money away. Open a new bank account Dad knows nothing about with a bank where no one knows him. This is a big enough city that you can get away from Dad’s scrutiny. The minute he cuts you off, you let me know and I’ll take up supporting you. In the meantime, you’ll have this to fall back on if you need it. I’ll be right back.”
She wiped her eyes. “You really are the best brother ever.”
He left to get a check, filling it out and returning to take it to her. She was back in the chair, her long legs tucked beneath her. When Tony handed her the check, she looked up with wide eyes. “Tony, this is enormous. I don’t need money like this yet.”
“Take it and do what I told you. This way you can open that new account and you’ll have money any time you need it.”
“I can’t take this much.”
“Syd,” he said sternly, giving her a look, and suddenly she smiled, folding the check.
“Thank you, best brother in the whole world.”
“You’re welcome,” he remarked dryly. “I’d talk to Dad, but we both know it will do no good. He’s stubborn and he’s a control freak. The only thing that Dylan can ever do to wring respect from Dad is what I’m doing—make as much money as Dad. I had a running start with influential connections, a top-notch education and family money. Dylan has none of that.”
“I know. He can never make the money Dad did, but I don’t care.”
“Have you told Dylan?”
“Not yet, but I will. I’ll miss my family, but at least you’re not cutting me out. It’s getting bad between Mom, Dad and me.”
“Sorry, Syd. Dad has really focused on you. For now, it’s you and not me.”
“He won’t bother you. I think you’ve thrown him for a loop with this latest acquisition. He wanted that chain for years.” She was quiet for a moment.
Then Tony said, “Since he found out about Morris, he hasn’t interfered in my life. I don’t think he ever expected me to make as much money as he does.”
“I wish I could and get him to stop meddling,” she said. “But my calling is in the medical field, not business. I can’t make the money I’d need to gain his respect and stop his interference.”
Tony squeezed her shoulder. “Do you really love Dylan?”
She turned wide brown eyes on her brother. “Yes. You’ve asked me before. Each time I tell you yes, I’m more certain and my love has grown stronger. I don’t care about the inheritance.
We’ll get along. I have faith in Dylan. His grades were tops. He has an excellent job with a big company and hopes someday to go into business for himself. Dad says Dylan is a nobody. Mom and Dad both want me to marry one of those boys I’ve grown up with, Paul, Jason, Will. I’m not in love with any of them. I don’t want to marry them and they bore me.” She waved her fingers at Tony. “Mom and Dad would like you to marry Emma or Darcy.”
“The day the sun rises in the west,” he remarked. “The folks haven’t said anything about that to me for several years. This past year Dad’s gotten quiet on all fronts.”
“You’re surpassing him in business and he never, ever expected that to happen. You can thank me, too, for taking their attention.”
“I definitely thank you.”
“I know Mom and Dad mean what they say. They both want us to have ‘society marriages.’ But I love Dylan and I’m going to marry him.”
“Let Dylan know what Dad has threatened. Fill him in so he knows exactly what it means. If Dylan still wants to marry you, then he’s been warned. Dylan seems to truly love you from all you’ve told me. I trust your judgment with him. The more he knows the more he’ll be prepared to deal with whatever our father does.”
“Tony, why do we have parents like this?”
“Look at my friends and their interfering dads—Jake and Gabe Benton, Nick Rafford. Dad’s no worse than theirs. When we were growing up, their interference was effective. Now, it’s not.”
“Thank heavens! I don’t want him running my life,” she said. “I’m meeting Dylan in thirty minutes, so I need to go, but I just had to talk to you.”
“Call whenever you want. You know I’m always here for you.”
“Thank goodness,” she said. “You always stand by me in a crisis and you’ve been there when I’m hurt.”
Tony smiled at her. When he could, he protected her from their parents’ interference, but it was impossible to always deflect their attention.
She finished her juice and jumped to her feet. “I better run. Thanks for listening. I feel so much better with your encouragement and support.”
“Sure. I’ll need yours sometime.”
She gave him a smile. “That will be the day. Whatever they throw at you, you manage to overcome. Tony, thank you so, so much.”
“Forget it. You’re there for me. You come talk whenever you want,” he said, draping his arm around her shoulders and giving her a light hug.
She smiled up at him, then her expression changed. “Tony, they’ll try to get you to sever ties with me.”
“Doesn’t matter. You know I’ll never do that.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“Syd, I would think Dylan knows the graphic artists in the city. He probably knows the top one with Morris. Her name is Isabelle Smith.”
“I’ve met her at parties Dylan and I have attended. I don’t really know her except to say hi. We’ve talked a little. From what Dylan has said, she’s very good and he admires her work. They’re friends because of their mutual interest in art. Now she works for you. She’s gorgeous,” Sydney said, her eyes dancing. “Thinking of dating an employee?”
“I’m allowed. I’m just curious because they are both in the same field.”
Sydney laughed. “I’ll ask Dylan about her. Maybe sometime the four of us can go to dinner.”
“Syd—” he said in a threatening voice, and they both laughed.
“Watch out. You’ll get Dad on your case if you start seeing an artist. Actually, you won’t. I think you’ve stopped him cold as long as you don’t lose the fortune you’ve made.”
“It’s a damn big relief. You stop worrying so much. You and Dylan can weather Dad’s interference. If you’re really in love, it won’t matter what Dad does.”
“I hope not. He has a lot of influence.”
At her car Jake held the door. “Don’t pay too much attention to our parents. When Christmas comes, it may be a whole different story.”
“If it’s not, I can live with it. I can’t live with losing you.”
He smiled. “You’ll get along. And I’m always here for you. Take care, Syd.”
“Sure. Thanks for the check, but mostly thank you for being the brother you are.”
As he entered the mansion, his thoughts returned to earlier and Isabelle Smith. He wanted to see her again. He definitely would have an interview with her. Since he’d acquired Morris, three executives had resigned. He guessed from her frosty manner that she was going to resign, too. It was a plus-minus prospect. He wanted her to stay. On the other hand, if she didn’t, it might be less complicated to see her socially.
Now he was looking forward to Thursday evening’s reception more than before.

Two
Isabelle gripped the steering wheel tightly. Her insides knotted. Tony Ryder was a page out of her past. He obviously had not remembered her, and nothing about her had jogged his memory. A night she wished she could forget. The most passionate night of her life, and one that she had never been able to understand.
A singular time in which she had acted in a totally uncustomary fashion. Had it been Tony who had triggered her responses? The spring night? The looming end of the semester? She could never account for her actions to herself.
One thing remained the same—the white-hot, sizzling attraction experienced by both of them. Even though she had tried to keep from responding in even the slightest manner to his magnetism tonight, she’d failed. He had felt the same witchery, revealing his responses in small ways.
His riveting looks and commanding presence made him larger-than-life to her. It was impossible to see him in any ordinary manner. When they were together, she could feel the rising heat they generated. The man probably went through life getting everything he wanted. Between his money, his looks, his background, his sharp mind—how could he fail in any undertaking?
She wanted him out of her life and she definitely wanted away from him. She hoped she’d have a new job and be gone from Morris without Tony having a clue who she was. No way did she want to work for Tony Ryder. Tony was clearly not into commitment and she was. She had read about him on business pages. He was a workaholic and obviously avoided long-term relationships. As she approached each birthday now, her yearning for a family and a love she could trust increased. She wanted a lifelong relationship while Tony did not have even long-term relationships.
She had told Tony she would attend the company party, but now she had second thoughts.
Finally at home, Isabelle turned on Beethoven, showered and changed into pajamas, and poured a tall glass of cold milk. She couldn’t shake thoughts of Tony and their encounter tonight. Tony Ryder was even more handsome and appealing than he had been the night she had met him when she had been in college.
How could he forget someone he had slept with? It had been such a passionate night. She grew warmer just thinking about it before making an effort to put those memories firmly out of mind.
Of all people to buy out Morris Enterprises.
Mr. Morris had planned to work four more years and then sell the company when Tony had come along with a dream offer. How she wished Tony had found other interests. Four more years with Morris would have been great. Now her future was uncertain. She had to start fresh with a new company. She would lose clients and accounts she knew well.
When she had started at Morris, she had thought the company would never change hands. The original shipping business had started with the trucking company in the 1920s. In 1946, Morris opened the first hotel. Within two years it had become a Texas chain, and in a few more years, a national chain. As the company had continued to grow, the word with employees was that the Morrises would never sell. Until the current Morris, whose only son was immersed in the Beltway political scene. After Morris’s daughter married a jet-setting Frenchman, she no longer had interest in the family business.
Change happened, especially nowadays when companies changed hands with the right offer. Probably due to her awards, the recognition she had received for achievements in her field, plus the large number of companies she had dealt with because of her job with Morris, she had three excellent job offers to consider.
Thursday night she would put in an appearance, speak to Mr. Morris, as well as those she was close to at Morris, and then leave. She didn’t care to schmooze with Tony.
She sat down at the kitchen table with her milk and the file of papers from businesses that had made her offers. She had them in order of preference with first choice Tralear Hotels, Incorporated, the hotel chain where Vernon Irwin, the former president of Morris, was going. Vernon wanted her, as well as five other Morris employees, to move with him and he had made her a highly tempting offer.
She had to get away from Morris before Tony realized who she was.
When she went to bed, she had dreams about Tony Ryder. One of her first thoughts on waking in the faintly gray dawn—would Tony remember who she was? Even more unsettling—how would she say no to him when she remembered what it was like to be with him?
On Thursday, Tony entered the luxurious reception room on the top floor of the Morris building. A piano player provided background music and a buffet of hors d’oeuvres were on tables scattered along three walls. A crowd had already gathered. As his eyes swept the room, disappointment ruled, because he did not see Isabelle.
He spotted the table with Seymour Morris and Vernon Irwin, who had already taken another job as president of Tralear Hotels, Incorporated, a fast-growing hotel chain. Three vice presidents who were still on the Morris payroll were also at the table. Casually looking for Isabelle, Tony crossed the room to greet the former CEO and each executive.
“Join us, Tony. You can humor an old man and sit for a spell.”
“I’d be glad to,” Tony said, smiling at the white-headed CEO. “I’ve looked forward to getting to meet more Morris people.”
“Excellent. We’ll introduce you and your executive staff in an informal manner shortly. I’ll officially turn everything over to you and go. Vernon will introduce the Morris executives.”
“No need for you to rush away. I look forward to meeting them to put faces with names.” Tony wanted to ask about one director in particular, but he refrained. Instead, as he conversed with those around him, he idly watched the crowd.
“Why don’t we do the introductions and let me officially move on. I can turn it over to you and get these old bones home to bed.”
“Yes, sir,” Tony replied, biting back a smile at the references to old and tired because he had already discovered that Seymour Morris worked out daily and had for years. Seymour was into polo, swimming, racquetball and golf.
As he moved to the microphone with Seymour, a blonde caught his attention.
In a plain black knee-length dress, Isabelle stood out. How had he missed her? Or had she just arrived? His insides clenched and flames heated him. Looking gorgeous, she stood talking to a cluster of Morris people. The short dress revealed her long, shapely legs and he could take a slow look now when she was unaware of his gaze on her. Her hair was looped and piled on her head, but this time a few strands escaped to frame her face.
She laughed at something someone said and his heart jumped. Instantly a vivid memory of Jessie Smith struck him.
His gaze narrowed while he focused intently on Isabelle, looking slowly, trying to compare her to a memory.
“Mr. Morris. I see your graphic arts department director, Isabelle Smith. Is that her full name?”
“As far as I know,” Seymour answered, turning to the man at his side with a questioning look.
Tony’s gaze remained riveted on Isabelle. He wanted to excuse himself and go talk to her, but that was impossible.
“It’s Jessica Isabelle Smith,” the vice president answered.
“Jessica Smith,” Tony whispered, repeating the name. Jessie Smith. It was her. Jessie Smith was back in his life.
He couldn’t keep from smiling. His new acquisition had a surprising, incredible perk. Now he could think of two reasons for her coolness when they had met Tuesday night. She could resent that he had not contacted her after their night together. Or she didn’t want to recall that night or rekindle the friendship. He watched her, remembering the college girl he had met, taunted by a visual picture of a laughing blonde, stunning in tight, faded jeans that molded to her slim legs. The same riveting blue eyes and flawless skin. A mouth to elicit erotic fantasies. And a cascade of long, almost waist length, silky, pale blond hair that, instead of being tightly pinned and conservative, tumbled freely over her shoulders. A party girl. Fun-loving, flirty with him, burning him to cinders in bed.
Why had she switched to her middle name, Isabelle? Nearly everything about her had changed, with the exception of her gorgeous looks, her captivating blue eyes, silky blond hair and that blazing attraction. Tony recalled her in his arms that night, warm, naked, eager. She had been all the things then that she had not been when he encountered her Tuesday night—the night they had met, there had never been a barrier around her.
She must have remembered him from the start. Was she angry he hadn’t pursued her after that night of passion?
Barely aware of his surroundings or the looming task, Tony’s attention kept returning to her while he attempted to chat politely with Seymour.
Finally, one of Seymour’s vice presidents quieted the room, introduced Seymour Morris and turned the microphone over to him.
Smiling his way through the opening, Tony heard none of it. His gaze kept resting on Isabelle, who was now facing the speaker, keeping her gaze firmly on the vice president or on Seymour. During the time Tony had watched her, not once had she looked at him.
He heard Seymour announce his name, introducing him as the new CEO and head of Ryder Enterprises, and he smiled during the applause. As he stepped to the microphone, shook Seymour’s hand and looked around the audience, his gaze rested on Isabelle. This time he made eye contact.
The instant they looked into each other’s eyes, the air electrified. Erotic images from the past taunted him as he pulled his attention back to the moment.
“I want to thank all of you for the warm welcome I’ve received. Seymour Morris and the Morris family have built a premier company with the help of outstanding employees. This is a blue-ribbon company with a blue-ribbon record.” He waited a few seconds while there was polite applause.
“In the coming weeks I’ll be talking to each of you more in depth. I think I already have appointments with most of you. If you need to see me sooner than your appointment, just let my secretary know. I’m looking forward to a banner year for Morris. I’ll turn this over to my executive president, Jason Hoyt, who has a few words to say and some introductions.”
He stepped aside and once again barely heard introductions until they went back to the Morris people and one by one, the vice presidents and then the directors were introduced.
They were scattered throughout the room and each person waved while they received brief applause. As each name was called, he looked carefully at the person, recalling the information he had received regarding them. Finally, he heard, “Isabelle Smith, director of the graphic arts department.”
Smiling, she stepped forward to wave, her gaze never meeting his. It didn’t matter. His heart jumped while he studied her intently again, remembering Jessie, comparing, feeling faint doubts that were fading each time he looked at her. Off and on he had thought about her, wondering where she was and what she was doing. At the time he had been working almost every waking minute and he hadn’t wanted to get involved with a woman because business would have suffered. She was back in his life. Now he could better understand her anger over his not contacting her after their night of partying and making love. Also, he could get through that barrier she had thrown up. As they made the next announcement, she glanced at him.
Certain she was Jessie Smith, he was jubilant.
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.
“The meeting’s beginning so we’ll talk later.”
They took seats and listened as a speaker took the podium. The meeting was short, lasting only an hour.
It wasn’t until they were alone that Dylan turned to her. Since his blue eyes were clouded with worry, she braced for bad news. “Sydney called me last Tuesday night. Her parents gave her an ultimatum. If she doesn’t drop me, they will disinherit her, stop paying for medical school for her and cut her out of family holidays.”
“Dylan, I can’t believe that. Why?” Isabelle asked, aghast and wondering about the tensions in Tony’s family. “How can they interfere in your lives that way? Why would they?”
“I’m not society. They want her to marry one of the men she’s known all her life. Also, they think I’m after her money.”
“That’s dreadful,” Isabelle answered. “Sounds like something out of the eighteenth century.”
“I don’t want any of Sydney’s money,” he said, his long fingers turning his pen in his hand. “I don’t want to hurt her, either. We’ve talked it over. As far as I’m concerned, I see only one solution—I ended our relationship. For her sake.”
“That’s even worse. Does she go along with your decision?”
“No. She wants us back together, but they’re threatening too big a disaster for her. I don’t want her going through anything so stressful over me. She’s always loved her family and they’ve been close. She’s very close with her brother.”
“What’s does Tony think of all this?”
“He said he would send her to medical school, not to worry about that one.”
“Good for him,” Isabelle said, relieved and aware of a grudging respect blossoming for Tony. “He can afford to do that. I was afraid he would side with his folks.”
“Not at all. He gave her a generous check. He told her he would never cut her out on holidays—or ever. He urged her to tell me their threats. Tony is damn supportive, but from what Sydney has told me, Tony has had bitter battles with his dad.”
“I’m glad Tony took that stand,” she said, her respect growing stronger. “I think more of him for not siding with them, and for urging her to tell you their threats.”
“They may treat him the same way when he gets engaged if it isn’t someone they approve of.”
“Tony Ryder is a complete workaholic,” Isabelle said. “I can’t imagine him getting married. He won’t have the same problem with his parents. I’m sorry, Dylan. If she truly loves you and you love her, maybe you should give it more thought before you break off with her.”
“I just don’t want to cause her to lose her inheritance—or her parents.”
“She’s in love with you. I understand your feelings, but think about it.”
She gazed into eyes that were darker blue than her own. Dylan was a good graphic artist and they had helped each other in years past on projects. She hated to see him hurt and she thought the Ryders were being ghastly about him.
“What about you and Tony Ryder?” Dylan asked. “Have you seen him yet? Does he remember you?”
“Yes and yes. He remembers me and he wants me to stay with Ryder Enterprises.”
“You’re damn good at what you do. You’ve built that department. Will you?”
She shook her head. “The department will never be the same. I don’t want to stay. There’s no future with Tony.”
“I don’t blame you. If I could do it over—” He paused to think and shook his head. “I’d still want to know Sydney. I love her and you can’t turn that off. Not the last-forever kind of love.”
“Dylan, I’m so sorry. They should be delighted with you.”
He smiled. “Thanks. I naively thought they would at least be friendly to me. They aren’t even that. I’m not supposed to set foot in their house.”
“This goes from bad to worse,” she remarked. “What a family. Maybe you don’t want to marry into it. Do you know Sydney really, really well?”
“I love her with all my heart. Enough to get out of her life and avoid causing her heartache.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t have a solution for you, except to urge you to rethink walking away from the woman you love and who loves you. Think about what’s important. Think about what Sydney wants.”
Dylan smiled briefly at her, and they got up to head out. As they walked toward the door, he said, “No one has a good solution, but thanks for listening. Be careful with Tony if he wants you to go out with him. You could end up in a dilemma with his family. Sydney said they have women picked out for him.”
Isabelle laughed. “Don’t worry. There’s no danger. Tony Ryder is in love with his work. He’s married to his job. I don’t ever want to tie my life to someone who puts work first over family. I saw that happen with one of my friend’s family when I was growing up and it was dreadful.
“True love is a precious thing. Think about it, Dylan, before you do something drastic.”
“I’m thinking, but I always come back to the same solution. I love her and want what’s best for her.”
“I hope she appreciates the kind of person you are. It sounds as if she does. Don’t rush into a breakup, Dylan. That’s my two cents’ worth.”
“That’s why I wanted to talk to you about this.”
“Keep in touch and let me know what’s happening,” she said, going to her car as Dylan headed to his.
“You do the same,” he called, walking backward. “If you change jobs, please let me know.”
“I will,” she called, climbing into her car, moving by rote while she thought about what she had learned from Dylan. She didn’t want to be involved with Tony in any manner.
One more strike against getting to know Tony Ryder any better. His family would be no more happy with her than they were with Dylan. At least Tony had stood by his sister. Isabelle had to admire him for that.
Sunday afternoon, she looked at her wardrobe to select what she would wear to the Monday interview. Certain she would soon leave Morris, she decided to wear something both professional and a little less buttoned up than usual, something more on the appealing side. Her conservative suits were shades of blue, gray, brown and black, innocuous, all business, hopefully authoritative to offset her age and pale blond hair. Although she was five feet eight inches tall, she wore high heels. She rummaged through her choices, pushing aside the suits to withdraw three dresses, which she tried on in succession.
Tony had forgotten her before and he would again, but she wanted him to notice her Monday and remember her after she was gone from his company. She had to stop thinking of it as Morris and recognize that it was now Ryder Enterprises, a name that gave her a bitter feeling because of Tony and their past, as well as having loved the Morris company the way it had been. Mentally, she had mapped out a rosy future with Morris and then Tony Ryder had brought it crashing down. Unfair a little, because Mr. Morris was also responsible by retiring and selling out.
She finally decided on a deep blue dress with a short jacket and a straight skirt that had a slit on one side. The low-cut square neckline revealed curves while the whole dress clung to her figure. She had matching pumps that would complete her ensemble. Eager to resign and move on with her life, she looked forward to the interview.
Monday morning she was ushered into the elegant office that had always belonged to a Morris. The thick carpet muffled any footsteps while the early morning sun poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, spilling across the balcony and into the room. She imagined a smiling Mr. Morris sitting at his broad mahogany desk. Instead, it was Tony, vibrant, commanding, sexy enough to transform what was usually a purely business atmosphere into an electrified ambience. Smiling, he stood, coming around his desk to greet her while another man remained beside a leather chair. A brunette who had been sitting nearby stood.
“Good morning, Isabelle,” Tony said, taking her hand to shake it briefly. The moment they touched, her already racing pulse gave another spurt. She withdrew her hand swiftly. His brown eyes were friendly. Unruly black locks curled on his forehead, an unwanted reminder of being in his arms and combing them back from his face.
Instantly, she tried to concentrate on the interview ahead, but when she met Tony’s gaze, there was a mocking look, as if he knew exactly what she had been thinking.
He could not possibly know, yet her cheeks grew hot and she turned from him to greet the others.
“This is Mandy Truegood, president of public relations and media promotion,” Tony said as the brunette smiled, extending her hand.
“And this is Porter Haswell, our president of operations.”
The man smiled, shaking her hand. While he was friendly, his gray eyes assessed her. “I’ve heard good things about you, Isabelle. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I never did get to talk to you at the reception, which I had intended to do.”
“Sorry I missed you,” she replied. “I left early,” she added, without a glance at Tony.
“You’ve had a spectacular career with Morris, with many awards. Congratulations,” Porter said.
“Thank you,” she answered. “Morris gave me opportunities. They opened the new hotel chain just shortly before I started, so from the beginning I got to do the ad campaigns. This is a great department with a talented staff. You’ll find each person brings a particular specialty. The teamwork is amazing.”
“You can tell us about your staff. Why don’t we have a seat. We can sit at the conference table,” Tony said.
She moved to the rectangular table. Effortlessly, Tony was there before her, pulling out a chair for her.
“Thanks,” she said brusquely as he sat to her right. She marveled how he could appear both relaxed and in control at the same time, a puzzling combination. On the table was her own large portfolio, plus a file bearing her name.
Amanda and Porter placed notebooks and papers in front of their seats.
Tony gazed at her with a faint smile. “We’ve studied your portfolio and impressive file that lists your accomplishments and awards.”
“I look forward to working with you,” Amanda added. “Morris is a great company and you’ve contributed to its growth.”
“Why don’t you tell us about the campaign that you feel you contributed to the most and how you worked with your staff,” Tony suggested.
As she talked, she was aware of holding the attention of all three, Amanda asking the most questions, Tony’s dark eyes on her while he listened.
The interview went easily. Isabelle tried to inform them of the talent and abilities of her staff. Even though she intended to move on, she hoped they kept her people.
When they concluded, remarks were brief, thanks exchanged and she left Tony’s office, the office she would forever think of as Mr. Morris’s.
Relieved to have the interview behind her, and curious what they would offer, she went to her office to clean out her desk. It would be a simple matter to pack her things after she turned in her resignation.
She already had a resignation letter written and copies made, but she wanted to wait and see what Tony offered. She expected far less than she had now. He had a reputation for buying companies, gutting them and keeping only skeleton crews that he moved down the corporate ladder. Some stayed and moved back up in a short time. Most left.
She had no intention of working with him. Their night of passion was a shadow hanging over her, something she had not been able to forget. She suspected from his dinner invitation that he wanted to renew the intimacy. She wanted to bury the memory, but there was no way she could wipe it out.
Her phone rang and she was caught up in business the remainder of the morning.
It was after three when Tony’s secretary called to ask her to come to Tony’s office. Relieved they were doing something today, Isabelle hurried along the hall to the large corner office Tony occupied. All she had to do was give two weeks’ notice and she would be elsewhere, far from Tony Ryder.

Three
When she entered his office, Tony stood in front of his desk, motioning her to a chair. His gaze swept briefly over her, a look that from anyone else would have been impersonal, unnoticed, but when Tony studied her, she warmed beneath his gaze.
He still appeared as if ready for a men’s fashion shoot in a navy suit that had no wrinkles and his fresh snow-white dress shirt.
“Please be seated,” he said, the words harmless, the look in his eyes not. His dark eyes smoldered with blatant lust.
Aware of his continued scrutiny as he sat facing her, she sat and crossed her legs.
“You had a good interview and made quite an impression this morning.” He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “While I suspect you already have one foot out the door, I want you to stay and work for me.”
“I have some very good offers.”
“We’ll top them,” he replied without hesitation. “Here’s what I’m offering.” He stretched his arm to pick up a sheet of paper from his desk to hand to her.
As she swiftly scanned a neatly typed page with spaces filled in by Tony, her breath caught. She glanced up at him in amazement.
She looked again at the title, reading it aloud, “Vice President of Graphic Arts.” She skimmed down the page to the salary that took her breath again. It was higher than any amount she had ever made, higher than what she had been offered by anyone. Shocked, she looked up at him. “You’ll raise my salary this much? You would put me over your people?”
“You’re good at your job. Seymour Morris praised you highly. You have an impressive record. In addition, you had a good interview. I want to keep you and I think to do so will take a bigger salary. My guess is that you are on the verge of accepting one of those offers you’ve received, if you haven’t already done so.”
“You’re right,” she admitted, looking again at the amount, far more than she could hope to make anywhere else. Too much to resign and walk away without consideration. Too much to even have to think long about it. The title in itself was a promotion. How much had his offer been inspired by her work and awards—and how much because of his memory of their night together and wanting to repeat it? She stared at the figures before her and the title, wondering about his motives. This was not in character with what had been rumored about his ruthless reputation when he took over a company.
“Do you want me in your organization or in your bed, Tony?” she asked bluntly, and one corner of his mouth lifted in a slight smile.
He reached across the narrow space between them to take her hand. Distracting, charismatic, sexy, Tony ignited a fire within her while his brown eyes held her gaze.
“You get to the point. I want to see you outside the office. I want you here in my company. Of course, I want you in my bed, Isabelle. I haven’t forgotten that night with you and you haven’t forgotten it, either.”
How she wished she could give him a long, cold stare and convey the impression of that night being insignificant and no longer in her memory. She couldn’t possibly, which he was fully aware of. “I don’t want to rekindle anything. On that front, you’ll be incredibly disappointed if I take this offer.”
“No, I won’t. If you stay, you’ll do a good job. I know that much from your past performance.”
“I don’t socialize, go out with, date, anyone from work. It prevents complications in my life.”
“We’ll see,” he said, running his thumb back and forth on her knuckles. She pulled her hand away.
“If I thought you didn’t like that, I wouldn’t do it, but I can see the look in your eyes. I can feel your racing pulse. You react as much as I do and we will go out together. I’ll hold you in my arms while I kiss you again.”
“Stop that,” she said breathlessly, the command sounding more an invitation than a rejection. “Tony, I’ll have to give it some thought. I never expected this offer. As for socializing, even if we do, which we will not, won’t that cause difficulty with other employees?”
“This is a private company. I own it. I have a good relationship with my employees. They are a happy bunch in a big corporation. I have married couples working for me. They socialize, eat dinners and lunches together. There are couples working here who go out together. I’m allowed to have a life. So are you.”
“It won’t be together.”
“You’re one challenge after another, Isabelle.”
“I don’t intend to be anything to you, not even your employee, although I may have to rethink that one.”
“Let’s have dinner tonight. Not a business dinner. It will be strictly social. Whether you stay or go, I’m going to ask you to go out with me.”
She was tempted to accept his dinner invitation, except she could see her life tangling in a web woven by Tony until he lost interest. Socializing with Tony, an affair with him—not only would complicate her work life, but it would also be a path to heartbreak no matter how it ended. And it would end. When it did, she would be older with no family to show for her affair of the heart.
“Tony, if I accept your job offer, I will keep my private life separate from my professional life. Thank you, but no dinner tonight.”
“Whatever you want,” he said, smiling at her, sounding supremely self-confident. “I still hope you accept my job of fer.”
“It’s flattering, tempting and amazing. I’d like to think it over and get back to you.”
“Of course. Take your time,” he said.
The moment she stood, he came to his feet to walk to the door with her.
At the door he reached out to hold the knob and block her from leaving. When she glanced up, he gazed back quietly. “I want you, Isabelle. We had an amazing night that I’ve never forgotten. You’ll say yes sometime soon because you respond to me. You can’t hide it. We both know you respond, just as I do to you.”
With every word she was sinking deeper in desire. His seductive ways conjured up their magic. He was right on too many levels, his observations on target. If she stayed, it was simply a matter of time until she was in his bed. Was that what she wanted?
“Tony, that’s the strongest of all the arguments for rejecting your offer,” she replied.
“Scared how much you’ll like your life in the future?”
He was way too confident.
“Wisdom says to shun meaningless affairs, as well as office affairs. The only way to do that is to avoid them in the first place.”
“See, we could talk over an enticing lobster dinner or a thick steak tonight. We do have things to talk about. We could dance—as I recall, that was a great pastime with you.”
“Sorry, no. I see no point. Thank you and I’ll get back to you with my answer.”
“Excellent,” he said, holding the door for her.
She stopped to tell the graphic arts secretary that she was taking off the rest of the day. Gathering her things and the paper from Tony, she left to go home where she could think.
The following morning Isabelle stood in Tony’s office again. She had dressed carefully, this time in a conservative tan suit and matching blouse.
“Please sit, Isabelle,” he said.
“This won’t take long,” she replied. “I’ll accept your offer. You know I can’t possibly refuse. I won’t find another like it anywhere.”
He smiled, the devilish smile that affected her heartbeat and breathing and was difficult to resist. “Good. You surely will let me take you out tonight and celebrate. An early dinner and then I’ll deposit you home. This is a big day in your life.” While his brown eyes danced with delight, he smiled at her.
On top of the promotion, his offer was tempting, but some things had not changed. She shook her head and opened her mouth to decline. He placed his finger on her lips. “Wait. I can see you digging in your heels. This is an offer worthy of a celebration. If we didn’t have a past, and you accepted my job offer, you would agree to celebrate. You’ve agreed to work with me, so we’re going to be together, Isabelle. We’ll work together, we’ll be in meetings together, lunches, dinners, conferences, hotels. Stop worrying about one night and one dinner. Celebrate your victory. And this is a victory for you. No seduction. Just dinner.”
She inhaled deeply. He had a point. She was going to work with him. She thought of the few times she had been with Seymour Morris, purely business. She couldn’t equate Tony with Mr. Morris, but she was going to be thrown with Tony sometimes by working for him.
“I can see the wheels turning,” he said. “You’ll sit home alone tonight otherwise, will you not? No fun there when you have a real triumph. Stop making a mountain out of a definite ant hill.”
“You’re persuasive. I’ll have to give you that much.” She thought about sitting home alone with this fabulous new position dazzling her. One dinner. Maybe she was blowing everything out of proportion. She should be able to have a dinner with him without succumbing to his charm. She couldn’t keep from wanting to celebrate this new job. “Dinner it is,” she said, wanting to add, Seduction, it isn’t, but she knew he would stand by his word about that for tonight. She nodded. “Thank you, Tony.”
“Excellent. How about I pick you up at your house at seven?”
“Which means you are leaving work early tonight,” she said.
“For you and your celebration, definitely. I’m glad, Isabelle. You won’t regret your choice.”
“Are you always so sure of yourself, Tony?”
He smiled.
She picked up her briefcase. “Now I have to go to Human Resources and fill out paperwork. I’ve been told I’ll keep my same office.”
“Yes. You’ll get to do it over. We’re having them all redone. Soon you can make the selections of furniture, carpet, wall colors, everything.”
“Actually, it’s very much the way I like it now.”
“That’s your decision. Welcome to Ryder Enterprises, Incorporated,” he said, extending his hand, shaking hers. The moment his hand closed around hers and heat warmed her from his touch, she wondered again if she could cope with working in close proximity to him. She had spent a sleepless night processing his offer. The job was fabulous, a dream position and salary so good it was worth working with Tony. She reminded herself of how little she’d seen of Mr. Morris over the years, yet, she knew Tony would be different. It was just too good an offer to turn down. She ought to be able to work around him without being constantly drawn to him. And he was a workaholic. He would move on to other concerns. He was a deal maker. He didn’t sit in one office all the time. She didn’t really expect to see much of him after the first few months when he was getting the company set up the way he wanted. Even that, he probably left to others. Shaking off uneasiness, she withdrew her hand. His enthusiasm was contagious and she smiled at him.
“Thanks, Tony. I hope you’re keeping most of my people.” “We’ll have a meeting concerning that later this week.” “I’ll see you tonight,” she said, and left his office. The day was busier than she had expected and she got home with only a little over half an hour to get ready for dinner.
Was she already making a mistake by going out with him? But she had made her career decision and had no intention of fretting about it. She wanted to celebrate and she had begun to feel ridiculous for making such an issue about avoiding him. She should be able to treat him the same as any other man, Mr. Morris, Dylan, anyone. Just go to dinner, keep a distance, stay composed and cool and Tony Ryder would move on soon and forget all about her. No flirting. No intense reactions. Dinner with a new boss. Nothing more.
After showering, she changed into a red dress with long sleeves and a V-neck. She fastened her hair on both sides, allowing it to fall loosely down her back. Finally she stepped into red high-heeled pumps.
On impulse, she picked up the phone and called Dylan to tell him about her promotion.
“Awesome! That is terrific, Isabelle,” he said, his tone changing from enthusiastic to somber. “He remembered who you are and wants to go out with you.”
“Yes, he did. Whatever his motive, I couldn’t turn it down. It will give me a jump in the corporate world. Even if I just stay a few months, I can get a better job than I had.”
“As you told me, think about it. Be careful. His family is also Sydney’s family. They won’t accept you.”
She laughed. “Dylan, they won’t have to. Ever. Whatever I do, Tony Ryder isn’t going to propose marriage. He’s wrapped up in making a bigger fortune. I’m just going to work for the man. Speaking of Sydney. How’s it going between the two of you?”
“We’re talking. She wants to get back together. I still think it would be supremely selfish of me, yet I keep discussing it with her.”
“That ought to tell you something right there. You want to be with her.”
“Hell, yes, I do, but I can’t be the one to cost her a family split plus losing her inheritance.”
“Dylan, stop and think. She’s studying to be a doctor and you’re successful in graphic arts. You can both live comfortably and well. Multimillions aren’t a guarantee of happiness.”
“I’m not going to be the one to take her away from her family. Those kind of bitter feelings sometimes last lifetimes and that would be terrible. She’s been close to them.” He was quiet for a moment, then said, “Want to go to dinner? We’ll celebrate your job offer and I’ll buy your dinner.”
“I’d love to, but Tony asked me if I wanted to go to dinner to celebrate and I accepted. Had I known, Dylan, I would have turned him down. I thought I’d be sitting here by myself. And I didn’t want to make such a big deal out of trying to avoid him.”
“Ah, sorry I didn’t talk to you sooner. Call me on a night you’re free and we’ll go.”
When they hung up, she stared at the cell phone before she placed it on the dresser. She hated to see Dylan hurt and Sydney had seemed like a fine person. She wished she were having dinner with a friend instead of Tony. Isabelle thought about Tony supporting his sister. Perhaps family wasn’t as far down his list of what was important as she had first thought. She shook her head. She’d better not fool herself on that one.
When the doorbell rang, her heart thudded. Impeccably dressed, Tony wore a dark topcoat and his charcoal suit with a red tie. Only the thick, unruly curls proclaimed a streak of wildness in the handsome corporate tycoon whose whole life was wrapped up in his work. That and the look in his eyes, indicating his approval as well as his longing, made her pulse beat faster.
“You look gorgeous,” he said, taking her coat to hold it for her.
“Thank you,” she answered. “I’m excited over my promotion, whatever motives you have behind it.”
His smile broadened. “I want you in my company. I want us to work together. I’ve already told you, I want more than that, but we’ll go slowly. Have you told your family? If I recall correctly, you have a large family.”
“You really do remember me,” she said as they headed toward a waiting black limo. “A limo, Tony?”
“Sure. It’s easier.”
A chauffeur held the door and she stepped into luxury. Tony shed his coat and asked if she wanted to wear hers.
“I’m comfortable,” she said, looking at the fine leather and walnut trim of the interior, realizing what a difference there was between their lifestyles, something easier to forget at the office.
“This is beautiful and makes the evening seem even more of a celebration—at least to me. You’ve been riding in limos all your life.”
“I’m glad you like it. I didn’t remember what you were majoring in when we met. After I recognized you, it came back to me that you were interested in graphic arts even back then.”
“Yes. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
“If I had recalled that, I would have known you and Jessie were one and the same. I debated the possibility that you were Jessie and dismissed it. You’re more sophisticated now. You’ve been far cooler, less receptive, not the party girl I recall from that night.”
“Responsibilities. Also, some resentment over your buyout of Morris, something I can’t help. They’ve been great to work for and I had a dream staff.”
“Hopefully, you’ll like your new life even better. I’ll see what I can do,” he said, his tone conveying a promise that sounded removed from work.
“I’ll manage,” she replied, thinking he had incredibly dark brown eyes, almost black now in the faint glow inside the limousine.
He touched a lock of her hair on her shoulder. It was a casual touch, yet it was as fiery as a caress and made her wonder whether she was tempting fate by going with him.
“You’re decisive—another good trait,” he said. “Simplifies life. It’s always good to know exactly what you want to do.”
“One trait we probably have in common,” she answered, thinking she usually was decisive, but she hadn’t been around Tony.
Tony’s cell phone buzzed and he reached for it, giving her a nod. “Sorry, I better take it.”
“Of course,” she answered, turning to look at the scenery outside as they sped along the freeway. She heard Tony discussing a business problem with renovations on a hotel that wasn’t connected with Morris, so she ceased paying attention to his conversation, surreptitiously studying him when his focus was elsewhere. If she could continue to appear as cool and composed the entire evening, she should be able to get through this dinner, perhaps making him lose a degree of interest in her. She would have a celebration of sorts if she could only ignore the man beside her, but that was impossible. She focused on the new title and job prospect, clinging to it, feeling a tingly excitement over her promotion and trying to ignore who had caused it and why. Finally he put away his phone and turned to her.
“Sorry for the interruption. Tell me, what’s gone on in your life during the years between when we met and now?”
“Graduation, getting started in business, gaining experience at my job, making friends. What about you?”
“Mostly business. Nothing unusual. Have you told your family about your promotion?” he asked.
“No. Simply because I was late getting home from work and had to rush to get ready for tonight.”
He was staring at her. “I like your hair. I like it best completely down—the way I remember it. Maybe before the evening is over.”
“I doubt it,” she said. “This is a partial concession. I rarely leave it down and unfastened. As for my family—I’ll call them tomorrow night.”
“Are they all here in Dallas?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact. Makes it easy for us to get to gether.”
Shortly after, the limo turned into a private driveway, passing a pond with fountains as they drove to a canopied entrance with sparkling lights lending a festive atmosphere. She had heard about the restaurant, a famous one in the area, but beyond her means. Another reminder of the differences between her life and Tony’s.
The door was held open for them and inside, the maître d’ knew Tony, motioning them to follow as soon as they arrived. They were led to a cozy alcove with a fire burning in a fireplace and a view of the dance floor and stage where a small combo with a bass fiddle, a piano and drums played.
The table was covered in white linen with a bouquet of white gardenias floating in a crystal vase. She could detect the flowers’ sweet scent, but her attention was held by the handsome man she was with. A candle highlighted Tony’s prominent cheekbones, catching glints in his midnight curls.
A bottle of champagne on ice already waited and the sommelier appeared to uncork the Dom Pérignon. As soon as he received Tony’s approval, he poured the pale, bubbly liquid into crystal flutes. Iced shrimp, a steaming artichoke dip and a plate of bruschetta were brought for appetizers. Menus were placed before them.
When they were alone, Tony raised his glass. “Here’s to a fabulous promotion in your career and a night to celebrate.”
“Thanks to you,” she said, thinking he still made it sound as if work was the last thing on his mind even though he referred to her career.
“Actually, both Mandy and Porter were enthusiastic about you and deserve some of the credit for your job offer.”
“That’s nice to hear,” she said, surprised. She had assumed the exorbitant raise and promotion had been all Tony’s doing to keep her at Morris. “You can’t tell me Mandy and Porter helped set the salary you’ll pay me.”
The corners of Tony’s mouth raised slightly. “No, they didn’t. I don’t want to lose you. I go after what I want.”
Her heartbeat fluttered in spite of the red flags of warning his statement raised. He had made his intentions clear and she hoped she was making hers just as clear, although accepting dinner tonight had to have sent a mixed signal. Though turning down a celebration of his fantastic offer would have been its own announcement of how much she reacted to him.
“Don’t read too much into this dinner,” she cautioned. “I’m celebrating with you, which frankly, is more of a celebration than sitting at home by myself tonight or worse, working late. As you said, it is not a monumental deal,” she added, hoping she sounded casual about the whole evening with him.
He looked amused. “I’m glad you’re here, whatever the reason. I want to get to know you.”
“Try to keep an employer-employee view. That’s all it will be between us. Unless of course, you decide to become a marrying man. I’m interested in marrying in my near future,” she added, enjoying herself because she suspected he did not want to hear what she was telling him. She was not only telling him the truth, she was also hoping to make him realize they had no future together. She had no doubt that a woman looking for a husband was the last person Tony would want to spend time with.
“I’m not a marrying man. We can still enjoy an evening out,” he replied smoothly, and she wished she could remain as cool as he was. “As a matter of fact, with your attitude, I’m surprised there’s no wedding ring on your finger. I can’t imagine there haven’t been proposals.”
“I’ve been far too busy. The right person has never come along. Where we differ—You don’t want to be tied down for years. I do. I want a family, so our association outside of work isn’t a good idea.”
“We’ll see about that one,” he said, smiling at her. “I realize you know how to enjoy life. I have a memory.”
“I’m older now and life changes,” she said, sparring with him. “What are your goals, Tony?” she asked, hoping to change the conversation, which was taking a direction she didn’t want.
“I have a goal—billionaire by forty.” “Unattainable for ninety-nine point nine percent of the world.”
“I doubt if the odds are that bad. What about your main goal? Did your promotion bring you closer to achieving it?”
“No. I want to succeed and have a rewarding career, but I want a family like the one I grew up in. I love my family. I hope to be married by thirty.”
“Married by thirty. That’s unique today. Your goal doesn’t scare away most guys?”
She hoped it scared away Tony, which was why she was happy to continue bringing up the topic. “I don’t tell my intentions to every one. You may be the first to ask about my goals. You’re business oriented.”
“Not altogether,” he said softly.
“Oh, yes, you are. Time will prove my case.”
“Business wasn’t my driving purpose the night we met. It’s not tonight.” She gazed into his dark eyes across the candlelight. In depths of brown was craving that kept her excitement simmering. “Forget business. Let’s go dance once before dinner,” he suggested.
He held her hand and she stepped into his arms for a ballad. She already knew he was a good dancer, remembering vividly being in his arms the night they met. He pulled her closer and they danced in perfect rhythm. In that moment she realized just how hard it would be to stay away from him in her new role. Besides his handsome looks, he had too much else going for him. He had made it clear he was not into marriage, family, children—commitment—because they would interfere with his focus on business. He had already mapped out his most important goal. If she didn’t want heartbreak, she needed to continue to guard her heart.
“Why so quiet?”
“Thinking how strange it is to be dancing with my boss.”
“Stop thinking of me as your boss. It’s Tony—the Tony you met a long time ago. Forget the office. Enjoy the night.”
“I’m enjoying every minute. A limo, champagne, candlelight, a handsome man.”
“You’re beginning to sound like the Jessie I remember.
I assume you no longer want to be called Jessie by anyone, including me.”
“Maybe you most of all. I don’t want to explain to anyone why you would call me Jessie.”
“I won’t until you approve, but I can’t keep from thinking of you as Jessie.”
He looked into her eyes and smiled. How easily she could fall into his bed. Beware, beware. When Tony spun her around and dipped, she had to cling to him, looking up into his riveting brown eyes. Electricity sparked between them, generating desire.
“You’re beautiful, Isabelle,” he whispered as he straightened up and they danced together. “I’m glad I bought out Morris. I never would have found you otherwise.”
“Tony, let’s keep this an impersonal friendship.”
“Sure,” he said, his expression telling her something else. When the ballad ended, they returned to their table.
After the waiter finished taking their orders, Tony asked, “Where do you go on vacations?”
“I don’t take them much. Last summer I kept putting it off and suddenly the year was gone.”
“We have to change that. When is the last time you left the country?”
“Tony, I’m tied up in work. I grew up in an ordinary, working-class, blue-collar family. I haven’t been out of the country.”
“Definitely has to change. When was the last time you left Tex as?”
“I did go to a grand opening of one of the Morris hotels in Atlanta two years ago,” she said, sipping her champagne. “Unless you’ve made changes, the company is sending me to a preview before the official opening of an elegant new Morris luxury hotel in San Diego the weekend after next,” she said, wondering whether he already was aware of her trip.
“Excellent. San Diego is beautiful and I’m sure the hotel will be grand. What day do you leave?”
“Thursday morning. Three of us are going, two of the Morris vice presidents—Nancy Wrenthorp and George Franklin—and me. On Thursday night hotel officials will show us around. Friday, guests will arrive—mostly media, friends and families of some of the hotel officials. We’ll fly out Sunday morning early.”
“Do you have any time to yourself?”
“Yes, on Saturday. Friday, I have appointments with media representatives. Nancy and George will deal with hotel officials and look over the hotel and see if everything is ready and running smoothly.”
“You should enjoy your trip.”
The waiter appeared with their salads, crystal dishes holding greens and slices of tomatoes. Her appetite had diminished and she still felt excitement fizzing in her as steadily as the bubbles in her champagne.
It wasn’t long before their lobster and steak entrées appeared, more than she could possibly eat, yet all of it looking delicious. Again, Tony’s phone buzzed and she waved her hand dismissively.
“Take your call,” she said, understanding that as CEO and owner of multiple companies he was on call all the time. She surreptitiously studied him until he put away his phone.
“I couldn’t help overhearing you, Tony. There was a fire on an oil rig you own. I didn’t know you had anything besides hotels and the trucking line.”
“Ryder Enterprises incorporates a variety of businesses. The oil company is a small but profitable subsidiary.”
“Do you need to go? It sounded serious.”
“It’s serious and costly, but thank heaven, no one was hurt and they’re getting it under control already. No, I don’t need to go. I just need to be kept informed.”
She smiled. “No danger of that not happening.” She wondered if years ago he would have gone dashing out. Every moment spent with him drew her back into memories and heightened the attraction to him.
They both ate little and when their dinners had been removed, Tony took her hand to dance again. She went eagerly, wanting to be close in his arms while reminding herself to avoid getting too involved.
They danced to another ballad, followed by a fast number. Tony’s coat swung open and his dancing was sexy, bringing back more memories. When they returned to a slow song, he held her closer. “This is great, Isabelle. Thankfully, I’ve found you again.”
“I was never more than a phone call away, Tony,” she said, stirring the simmering anger over Tony’s buyout of Morris and his not contacting her again. Her anger with him had lost intensity. There were moments now when he charmed her and she let go her past feelings.
“You’re in my life now and I’m in yours and I intend to keep it that way,” he said and her heartbeat quickened. He wrapped her in his arms and gazed at her, his attention shifting to her mouth and making her heart thud. He would try to kiss her tonight and she wanted him to, but that’s a line she couldn’t cross. He had been building to that all evening with his flirting, his dancing, his compliments, his casual contacts. Everything he said or did fanned flames between them, even though this was supposed to be just a dinner celebration regarding work. Not a big deal, she reminded herself.
Shortly after midnight she told him she should go home. Tony didn’t try to persuade her to stay out later.
When the limo arrived at her condo, Tony walked her to the front door. His phone buzzed again. When he ignored it, she said. “Go ahead and take your call.”
“I’ll get it shortly. Not now. Give me your key and I’ll get your door.”
She handed him the key, watching as he unlocked and waited for her to enter. Every second that ticked past heightened her worry. Her insides fluttered.
“Do you have an alarm?” he asked as he followed her inside and closed the door behind him.
She turned to switch off the alarm and then faced Tony. “It’s off. This has been a wonderful evening that truly was a celebration,” she said, looking up into dark eyes that kept her heart racing. Her words were polite, somewhat impersonal. She intended to keep it that way in spite of wanting to be in his arms, to kiss and be kissed again.
She held out her hand to give him an impersonal handshake. “Thank you, Tony.”
“That won’t do.” He took her hand and pulled her toward him, reaching out to comb his fingers through her hair, carefully removing first one pin and then another. She felt the faint tugs against her scalp, which made her tingle. While her heart drummed, her gaze was locked with his.
“This is the way I remember you and like to see you—with your hair down. Preferably naked in my arms in bed.”
“Tony, that night is definitely over and it was very long ago,” she whispered, trying to hang on to common sense and avoid getting more entangled with him in spite of her racing heart.
“But unforgettable. You’re a warm, passionate, beautiful woman, and extremely appealing.” As he talked, he removed more pins and more of her long, blond hair fell freely across her shoulders until all strands were loose.
“Ah, Isabelle, you’re gorgeous.” He wound both hands in her hair and then his arms slipped around her waist and he drew her to him.
When he looked at her mouth, her lips parted and she was certain he could hear her thudding heart. “We’re not ending this night on a handshake. Since I saw you at the reception and realized you were Jessie, I’ve wanted to kiss you.”
“Tony, don’t,” she whispered, her heart beating wildly. The moment she had intended to avoid was happening. While his arms tightened to draw her closer, he brushed his lips over hers, a faint touch, but it changed the entire evening. Sparks spun from his kiss, transforming a casual evening into something more, making her forget any handshake. Tony brushed her lips lightly again, then returned to cover her mouth with his.
Isabelle’s insides clenched and heated. As his tongue went deep into her mouth, longing swept over her, demolishing worries, igniting fires and rekindling desire. Memories of a night long ago bombarded her. Wrapping her arm around his neck and an arm around his waist, she clung to him, pouring herself into the kiss.
His arms tightened around her. His kiss was even more devastating than she remembered. White-hot, melting, his kiss shook her. How could he be so incredibly sexy to kiss when she didn’t want to be drawn to him? She was annoyed with him, determined to guard her heart, yet barriers were dropping away, disintegrating from the onslaught of pleasure.
She ran her fingers through the short hair at the back of his head and then moved her hand across his broad shoulder.
Passion mushroomed, shaking her, driving her to wild kisses that blanked out everything except Tony.
He raised his head. “I want you in my life, in my arms in my bed.”
“Never,” she whispered, her actions negating her words as she stood on tiptoe and pulled his head down again to kiss him. She felt starved for his kisses, as if no time had passed between that spring night with him and now. Remembering his lean, muscular body, his broad shoulders and hard masculinity, she longed for what she could not have. A night she thought she was beginning to forget poured back, vividly clear.
“Tony, we have to stop,” she whispered, even though her actions denied her words as she pulled him close to continue kissing him.
“Why?” he responded before her lips were on his and they kissed again. Passion blazed, consuming protests and reason.
Tony’s kisses were beyond dreams, building excitement with lightning speed.
Dimly, she thought she should tell him again to stop, but the notion was fleeting. Giving herself, taking all he gave, she kissed him. She thrust her hips against him, feeling his thick erection, knowing he wanted her and was ready.
Feeling lost in a dizzying spiral, she finally summoned her willpower and stopped. “Tony, that’s it,” she gasped. She struggled for breath while her heart pounded and her body was on fire for his hands and mouth and loving.
With half-lidded eyes, he gazed at her, brushing long locks of her hair back from her face.
“That got out of hand,” she managed to say.
“Not really. We only kissed a few times.”
It wasn’t only. His kisses had been earthshaking, seductive.
He held her waist. “You’re special, Isabelle.”
Her heartbeat quickened yet more. Words to wrap around her heart and make it captive. “Tonight was a celebration, Tony. I had a wonderful time and thank you. I suppose I’ll see you at the office this week.”
“Not this week, because I leave town,” he said, his fingers caressing her throat.
“Thanks and good night,” she said softly, looking into eyes filled with yearning.
“It was a special evening,” he said. He swept her into his arms and kissed her hard. Startled, for an instant she froze. It was only seconds, and then she returned his kiss until he released her, watching her intently with both satisfaction and need.
“Until later,” he said quietly. He left, closing the door. The lock clicked in place. She looked out the window. Tony was already on his cell phone, his long legs carrying him swiftly to the limo.
“You’re a workaholic,” she whispered, thinking about the calls he had received. The head of an empire, wanting to keep in touch with his business at all times.
In seconds the limo’s red taillights disappeared around a curve in the driveway. She switched off the hall lights and stood in the darkened entryway. Her mouth was dry, and her body was on fire. She wanted him with an intensity that shocked her.
“Good night, Tony. Sexy man,” she said, relishing memories of the evening. For the next few hours she was going to pretend Tony was just another guy she worked with and enjoy replaying the night in her mind. Tomorrow she could return to reality. The man was her employer. He was obsessed with work, chasing a goal of billionaire by forty. His true love was power. He would avoid commitment. She had to refuse his next invitation or kiss her own dreams and goals goodbye. She had to resist his kisses, resist him, remember to keep up her guard. Too much was at stake to get deeply involved with him. She promised herself she would hold her own goals always in sight.
At least until her next encounter with Tony.

Four
Tony entered the walnut-paneled study at his parents’ mansion to greet his father, looking into brown eyes as dark as his own. It was a typical Sunday evening with a quiet house, the staff at a minimum, his mother at a friend’s playing bridge. “You called and wanted to see me. What’s up?”
“First, let me pour you a glass of wine. Have a seat.” “Make it a small amount,” Tony said, not interested in wine, but aware it would please his father if he would sit and have a drink with him. Tony took a business call while Grant Ryder poured two goblets with white wine from a crystal decanter. He carried one to Tony, who replaced his phone. “How was the Morris party?”
“Fine. Everything went smoothly. I think the transition will be easy.”
“You achieved the impossible, Tony, getting Morris to retire.” “I think he was ready and wanted to retire. I was in the right place at the right time.”
“Don’t be modest. It gets you nowhere.” Grant sipped his drink and lowered his glass. “Where’s your sister? Your mother and I haven’t been able to get in touch with her and she hasn’t returned our calls.” Grant turned to face his son.
“I think Sydney is studying,” Tony said.
“When did you last talk to her?”
“Yesterday, as a matter of fact.”
“She has as much told me that she doesn’t care what I threaten, she’ll see who she wants to see,” Grant said, his thick dark eyebrows emphasizing his frown. It always surprised Tony that he was over four inches taller than his father. When he was a child, he thought his father was extremely tall.
Tony nodded. “I’m not surprised.”
“She’s talked to you, hasn’t she?”
“Yes. You know she usually does,” he said, knowing from past experience his father was growing more angry. His words became clipped.
“Six months ago I would have urged you to try to persuade her to drop that Dylan person. Now I suspect it might be useless to try to ask you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“You’re right,” Tony remarked with a faint smile, surprised his dad was even hinting at defeat in his attempts to control.
“So, it comes to that. I was afraid it might because you’ve always been strong-willed.” His father sat in a chair and swirled his wine, looking at it for a long time before he sipped.
“Well, you’ve acquired sufficient wealth to ignore my influence in your life,” Grant continued. “I could threaten to disinherit you as I have Sydney, but I’m afraid at this point, you would pay no heed. You’ll do as you damn please because you don’t need my money.”
“That’s right, Dad. It’s worth every hour of work I put in,” Tony admitted, relishing the feeling of being free from his father’s attempts to dominate his life. He sat relaxed, enjoying the moment he had relished for years.
“You don’t need to look so smug,” Grant grumbled. He shook his head. “I’ve met my match in my son. If I have to meet it, I can’t think of anyone else I would prefer to best me.”
“I wasn’t trying to ‘best you.’ I just want to live the way I want to live.”
“So what do you think of this artist, this Dylan ‘someone’ your sister thinks she is in love with?”
“First, my sister probably knows whether or not she is really in love with Dylan. Next, my opinion of Dylan—he’s a nice guy. From all indications, he’s good at what he does. What’s more important, I trust Sydney’s judgment, Dad. Dylan hasn’t had the advantages I had or you had. Sydney is bright and sharp. Frankly, if I were you, I would trust Sydney’s judgment.”
“Love is blind, Tony. We don’t want Sydney to ruin her life.”
“Chances are, she won’t.”
“How do you know this fellow isn’t after Sydney’s money? Someday she will be immensely wealthy. That may be his reason for showering his attention and affection on her. Have either of you considered that possibility?”
“Again, I trust her judgment. Besides, Dylan has told her he doesn’t want to ruin her life, so he doesn’t think they should see each other anymore. He’s sticking by that and he wants to cut all ties. Sydney does not want him to. You’ll have to admit that’s someone who is putting Sydney first.”
“Damn smoke screen. I doubt if he means it. It sounds good, but wait and both of you will see. My guess is that he will let her talk him into coming back into her life.”
“Maybe,” Tony said. “Time will tell on that one.”
“I’m glad he’s done this for now, but I don’t expect it to last. She can’t put herself through medical school,” his father remarked dryly. “I do have leverage with her even if I don’t with you.”
“No, Sydney can’t put herself through school, but I can help her,” Tony said, savoring the moment. His father’s head whipped around and his eyes narrowed.
“Damnation. You’ve already told her you would, haven’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “So you nullified one of my immediate threats.”
“Yes, I did, because I love my sister. And I’m not cutting her out of my life. You and Mom can spend your holidays together as you see fit. I’ll see Sydney.”
“I never thought I’d see this day. I knew it was possible. Especially these last few years when you’ve had success after success. Dammit, Tony.”
Tony smiled and sat in silence, still reveling in his triumph, recalling dreams as a boy of moments like this.
“So you’ll help Sydney. Therefore, my threats are losing their punch. No wonder she’s not taking my calls. Dammit, Tony,” he repeated.
“If you try to cause Sydney trouble when she graduates—and I imagine you will—all you’ll succeed in doing is driving her to move away. You’ll lose her completely—and any grandchildren she might give you. She is already looking into where she can live when she finishes school. The places she’s considering are far from here.”
“I have to hand it to you. I’m impressed. I never thought I would see the day you could successfully tell me what to do and I would have to think about doing it.”
“Learned how from you,” Tony remarked casually. Silence fell and Tony sat swirling the glass of wine he had barely touched. He let his father ponder the transfer of power.
“Well, it’s a new concept to think I might have to back off. You know it’s a notion I don’t like. Your mother may be another matter. She doesn’t want this young man in our family.”
“Does she want Sydney in our family?”
“Of course she does.”
“I’ll repeat—if you keep this up, you two will never know your grandchildren. You’ll cut Sydney out of your life. Dad, for years to come, I have no intention of getting tied up in the demands of marriage, so don’t think I’ll give you grandchildren. You better make that clear to Mom.”
A muscle worked in his father’s jaw. He clenched his fists and walked to the window to stare outside. As silence filled the room, Tony recalled Isabelle informing him that her goal was to marry by thirty and have children. Her goal would have nothing to do with him except make her reluctant to have an affair, but he expected to get beyond that easily. And soon.
Finally Grant turned around. “You present a good argument. I don’t like it one damn bit, but I have to be proud of you. You’ve outfoxed me, Tony. I suppose I’ll have to consider your suggestions. With your opposition, I assume I’ll lose a lot if I keep Sydney from marrying this fellow.”
“That’s good news, Dad. Frankly, I think in years to come, the whole family will be much happier if you accept Sydney’s choice.”
“If this young man doesn’t break Sydney’s heart.”
“If he does, she will have only herself to blame. Not you or Mom. I better go, but I’m glad you’re at least listening. Sydney’s your child. You two will really miss her if you go ahead with your threats.”
“Even if I capitulate, I don’t know that your mother will.”
“She will if you talk her into it.”
“Go celebrate your victory.”
“It isn’t a war, Dad,” Tony said. “Sydney and I just want to live our own lives now. We’re adults. It’s time you let go a little.”
“If you ever are a father, Tony, you’ll understand.”
“I hope to hell I learn to let go when any kids I might have reach adulthood, much less in their thirties,” Tony said quietly, feeling the clash of wills. He saw the flash of fire in his father’s eyes and red flooding his face. “Don’t let thoughts of losing control cause your blood pressure to rise,” Tony added. “Just let go a little and trust us to make good decisions. Sydney is plenty smart.”
“This Dylan person knows nothing of how we live. No telling what kind of life he will give her. I hope you remember that when you look for a wife and get someone from your own kind of world.”
“Dad, as far as Sydney is concerned, she has told you what she will do. I’ve told you no marriage for me for years. You and Mom have to decide what you’ll do. We all live with our choices.” Tony looked at his watch. “I’ve got to run. I’m meeting my friends for dinner.”
Grant followed Tony across the room. “Think about Sydney, Tony. You may be helping your sister to lose a lot.”
“Sure. I’ll think about her.” Tony left the room in long strides, already making a call by the time he reached the back door, thoughts of family forgotten as he talked to one of his vice presidents about the coming trip.
After he finished his call and drove away, images of Isabelle returned. What was she doing now? He was tempted to contact her, but he expected another business call soon. When he talked to Isabelle, he didn’t want interruptions. He called his pilot to arrange to fly to San Diego next Friday. He would surprise Isabelle Friday evening. Next weekend couldn’t come too soon.
Twenty minutes later he entered the country club where his family had had a membership since the club’s founding. Crossing the thick red carpet in the darkened bar, he joined his closest friends, men he had known from childhood, Jake Benton and Nick Rafford, who greeted him. “Where’s your brother?” he asked Jake.
“Gabe should be here any minute. We might as well get our table,” Jake said as the two shook hands briefly.
Tony turned to Nick. “Thanks for coming. I know this takes you away from Michael and Emily, as well as Grace.”
“Actually, Emily fell asleep early, and Michael will soon. With the kids asleep, my wife will probably be happy for some solitude.”
It still surprised Tony that Nick and Jake were married. They had been as committed to bachelorhood as he was. Both men seemed wildly in love and happy with their wives. Nick amazed him the most because he now had two small children. He thought well of Grace, but he saw no plans for any kind of serious commitment in his own life.
As soon as they were seated at a large, linen-covered table, Nick reached into his blazer pocket. “I know you’re a confirmed bachelor, Tony, and you’re a newlywed, Jake, but you’re both going to see Michael’s and Emily’s latest pictures.”
As pictures were passed around of his toddler girl and son, who was almost two, Gabe Benton walked up to join them, sitting across from his older brother with the family resemblance showing in the firm jaws, straight noses, thick brown hair and startling blue eyes. Gabe stood out from the others because he was the only one wearing Western hand-tooled boots with his slacks and dress shirt. All of them paused when a waiter arrived to take their drink orders. As soon as they each had a glass of wine, Tony raised his. The others gave him their attention. “You look like the cat that ate the mouse,” Nick remarked to Tony.
“I’ve already made arrangements with the maître d’,” Tony stated. “This dinner goes on my account. We’re celebrating because now we have all ended our controlling fathers’ manipula tions. Nick, you have because you gave your dad the grandchildren he wanted. Jake, you have because you married and settled, and Gabe, you have the good fortune to have escaped, thanks to your older brother.”
“Amen to that,” Jake said as he exchanged a look with Gabe, who grinned.
“So what’s happened with you?” Nick asked Tony. “You just said all of us.”
“That’s right. I’m including myself. Dad has admitted he has to stop interfering with me,” Tony said.
There was mild applause and low cheers. “I’m set to make more money than he has—in short, I don’t need his money, so I can do as I please and he has no leverage to use on me. Tonight he admitted it.”
“Congratulations!” Gabe and Jake said together, as Nick reached out to high-five Tony.
“Way to go, Tony!” Nick said, raising his goblet. “Here’s to freedom from interfering fathers.”
“We’ll all drink to that one,” Jake remarked dryly. “Mine threatening to disinherit me if I didn’t marry—that is the biggest interference of all.”
Nick lowered his drink. “I think Tony’s dinner should be on us.” He paused while Gabe and Jake agreed. “We want to treat you because you’ve earned it. That’s tremendous. Something the three of us have wanted since we were about nine years old.”
“Younger than that,” Tony remarked and the discussion momentarily ended while the white-coated waiter took their dinner orders.
“I figured we’d celebrate your acquisition of Morris. That’s probably what turned the tables with your dad,” Gabe said.
“He realizes he no longer has any hold. He can suggest, but not threaten. Unfortunately, now he’s focused on my sister.”
“Don’t tell me that,” Gabe said. “Our dad has always concentrated on Jake. I hope he doesn’t switch to me. So far, he hasn’t.”
“I don’t think he will,” Jake stated. “No habit established. Your investments are going so well, Dad has to be impressed.”
“I’ve never said a word to him about them,” Gabe replied.
“I have,” Jake said. “I’ve told him you’re handling my personal investments and some friends’ investments.”
“That probably shocked him.”
“Besides, you’re the baby and they’ve always spoiled you,” Jake said with good nature, and Gabe’s smile widened.
“Don’t think I haven’t enjoyed it, brother,” he said, and the others laughed.
“Will Morris pan out like you expected?” Jake asked Tony.
“Far better,” Tony replied, thinking about Isabelle and wanting to cut the dinner short and call her. Tossed green salads were placed in front of them.
While they ate, Nick lowered his glass of water. “This is a monumental day. A time we’ve dreamed about and I began to never expect to have happen. I insist you let this dinner be on us,” Nick continued. “You’ve accomplished the miracle with your dad and you recently hosted us at a tropical retreat because of the bet you won as the last holdout for marriage.” Nick glanced at Gabe. “You would never even enter the bet, so your bachelorhood doesn’t count.”
“I know that. I didn’t want any part of the bet.”
“My tag-along brother won’t think about marriage,” Jake remarked.
“I have no regrets about my lack of participating in the bet,” Gabe said.
“Besides, Gabe, you would have had a distinct advantage since you are younger than the rest of us.”
“We insist, Tony, on buying dinner,” Jake added. “Since we were little kids, all of us have dreamed and schemed to rein in our control freak fathers and we’ve finally succeeded.”
“Thanks. It’s a great feeling to finally get free and to best him. Don’t ever put Michael in competition with you, Nick,” Tony said, thinking about Nick’s son.
“Don’t worry,” Nick said. “I don’t think any of us will ever do that to our sons.”
“Or daughters,” Tony added with his own sister in mind.
All agreed. After dinner they left the dining room to go to a club lounge, where they sat and talked until ten. Finally, it was time to head home. Nick was parked the nearest to Tony and before they parted he turned to clasp Tony on the shoulder. “Congrats, again. I never thought we’d see this day come for all of us. When we were kids we never thought it would happen.”
“I enjoyed myself tonight. Maybe a little guilty for doing so, but damn, it was satisfying to hear my father admit he couldn’t try to run my life any longer.”
“I know it was. With Jake and with me, it all ended peacefully—at least I assume it’s ended. I feel sure my dad won’t ever interfere again. Besides getting older, he’s wound up in Michael and Emily, the grandkids he finally decided he wanted. Who knows with Jake and Gabe? You’re in the clear now. Sorry your sister isn’t.”
“I hate it. I’ll pay for medical school for Sydney and I’ll see her on holidays, but I can’t do anything if Dad goes ahead with his threat to cut her out of his will. I can share what I get, but she’ll fight taking it.”
“Don’t worry about it now. Your dad may change. My life with my dad is so different. Sometimes I can’t believe he’s the same man.”
“Actually, my dad doesn’t give up easily. I expect him to think about our conversation and come up with a new threat, but he knows he’s lost any real leverage. If I help Sydney, I think he’ll threaten to cut my inheritance. I won’t be in the least surprised.”
“That doesn’t worry you?” Nick asked.
Tony shook his head. “I don’t like losing a huge fortune, but I’ll get along without his money and so will Sydney. He can do what he wants. I’m doing what I want.”
Nick shook his head. “I admire you for deciding to stick by your sister no matter what. If it comes to losing your inheritance, let her know what you’re sacrificing.”
“The realization that I’m free to live my life the way I want to is like freedom to someone who has been imprisoned for a lifetime. No way am I giving in to him. His fortune isn’t worth yielding again.”
“Maybe it will never come about. Gotta run. See you, Tony.”
“Night, Nick. Thanks again for dinner. I really think all of you should have let me treat.”
“Forget it. You earned it.” While Nick walked to his car, Tony climbed into his.
Tony wanted to call Isabelle, but it was late. “To hell with it,” he whispered, and pulled out his cell phone to make the call before driving. The minute he heard her voice, his pulse jumped. He wanted to be with her. Next weekend seemed eons away.
Isabelle planned to spend the week trying to finish projects carried over from Morris. Tony left town after the Monday morning staff meeting and she didn’t expect to see him until the following Monday.
She worked until nine Monday before going home. To her surprise Tony called. Several times she started to end the call, but he would always draw her back into talking. In spite of her better judgment, he kept her on the phone for over an hour with his humorous stories about work and interesting conversation. When she finally ended the call, she stared at the phone, looked at her watch and shook her head. “Isabelle, you’re losing it. Say no to him,” she whispered in the empty room.
Tuesday night when she arrived home, she found a large heart-shaped basket with a mixed assortment of spring flowers on her doorstep. Smiling and shaking her head, she carried them inside to read a card that was simply signed, “Happy Valentine’s, Tony.”
He called a short while later. “Thank you for the gorgeous flowers.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said. “Wish I could be there to take you out.”
“I’ll enjoy my flowers immensely.”
“That isn’t the reply I was hoping for.”
“That’s about as personal as it will get, Tony. We don’t know each other all that well.”
“I beg to differ,” he said. “I remember clearly—”
“Stop right there,” she said, laughing. “I walked into that one.”
“I do wish I were there.”
“I’m sure you could come home if you really wanted to,” she said, amused because he owned the company and could get someone else to take his place. She glanced at her watch, remembering she was going to cut him short.
“You’re right, probably. Maybe I micromanage. I hope to hell I don’t though. My dad did enough of that when he ran the business before it passed on to me.”
“Tony—” she said, starting to tell him goodbye.
“Tell me what you know about the new ad campaign that was started just before I stepped in. The one regarding the East Texas hotels.”
She told him how the campaign was going, what her department had done. She was on familiar ground. Eventually talk shifted away from business and she listened to Tony as she kicked off her shoes and took down her hair.
“You can tell me all about the San Diego opening when I see you. That’s a great town.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“Better than where I am in the frozen north. Now if I had you here to keep me warm—”
“Tony,” she interrupted, smiling and feeling tingles in spite of trying to avoid them.
“I’m just telling you what’s on my mind. It really isn’t ad campaigns or hotels. I don’t want you hanging up on me when I’ve waited all day to get to talk to you.”
“I know better than that,” she replied, remembering all the business calls he had taken the night they had been together. It was over an hour later when she finally ended the call. She stared at the phone a moment, thinking about him. She should firmly end the calls from him. Or even avoid them in the first place, because she had caller ID. She took the call tonight to thank him for the flowers he had sent. But once she was on the phone with him there was no hope of cutting it short, because he always talked her into listening or answering.
Flowers, phone calls, a terrific job so she would stay. Where was she headed with him?
Wednesday night Isabelle waited for her close friend, Jada Picard, a Morris attorney, for their plans to work out at their health club.
When Jada climbed into Isabelle’s car, she shook short, straight black hair away from her face and turned gray eyes on Isabelle. “Sorry, I got delayed.”
“It’s fine. I did, too. I’ve just been in the car a minute or I would have driven to the door to pick you up.”
“After the workout, let’s go eat. You can pick the restaurant so we can also celebrate your new job with Ryder Enterprises. How was your dinner last week with our new boss?”
“I’ll have to admit, it was a great evening.”
“Now that he remembers who you are, I imagine you’ll have more excellent evenings,” Jada remarked.
“No, I won’t.” Isabelle stopped for a red light and glanced at her friend. “I’m not accepting another invitation from him. So far, he’s been out of town and when he returns this weekend, I’m away on business in San Diego. I’m staying an extra day just to enjoy the city.”
“You’ll have a wonderful time. I love San Diego. When you return, I predict you’ll go out with Tony again,” Jada said.
“A relationship with Tony won’t happen,” Isabelle said, remembering his kisses and being held in his arms, not mentioning the flowers and phone calls.
“Sounds like it could easily happen.”
Isabelle moved in traffic, keeping her eyes on the road. “No, it won’t. He’s not for me,” she said, despite how she had been dazzled by his kiss and unable to forget him ever, still recalling the long-ago night in as vivid detail as the recent evening with him. “I just couldn’t resist the invitation to celebrate and it was beginning to sound like a big deal if I refused to go out with him. Otherwise, it was nothing and I won’t go out with him again,” she stated, trying to convince herself that she could say no to him.
“Doesn’t sound like ‘nothing’ to me,” Jada remarked.
“He’s not my type,” she added. “Jada, we’re both twenty-eight this year. We’ve both agreed we want marriage and a family. For me, the time has come. Our new boss definitely does not want marriage or a family to interfere with his ambition. He’s already married to his work. Friday night he had calls all evening long.”
“Calls are not a big deal. His not wanting to get married—there you may have a stumbling block.”
“I promise you, the man’s work comes far ahead of anything else in his life. He’s every inch the workaholic. I don’t ever want to tie my life to one of those. Growing up, I watched my best friend’s dad live that way and her mom had to cope without him. He was practically a stranger to his family. That’s not for me.”
“Yeah, if you grew up around a workaholic, you know what it means.”
“Lucy’s dad never saw her at any of her games, at recitals, at anything. She had nicer things than I did and a fancier home, but she would have traded some of the comforts for having her father around. My family was really close and she saw that. She loved to come to our house and she told me that was one reason why.”
“How sad,” Jada said.
“The quality of life is important. Fortunately, Tony is supportive of his sister. Their parents are giving her grief over the man she’s been seriously involved with. They don’t think he’s good enough for her. I’ve told you about him—my friend Dylan.”
“I remember meeting Dylan. He’s a nice guy with a good job. What kind of parents does Tony have? In spite of his looks and money, I’d say two strikes against Tony. A workaholic guy with a snobby family. Be careful.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve seen the last of evenings out with Tony Ryder.”
“I’d still say to watch out. Sounds as if he might be a heartbreaker. He has the looks for it.”
“That he does,” Isabelle agreed, envisioning Tony’s sexy dark brown eyes and his thick, curly hair. “Have you ever gotten your interview appointment with him?”
“Not yet, but I’m not anxious about it. I’ve got really good offers now,” Jada said. “I won’t mind moving on.”
“That’s the way I felt. Having a place to go makes the future look much rosier. I knew you would get some promising job offers,” Isabelle said, turning into the fitness center parking lot. “I need this workout.”
“So do I,” Jada said, climbing out of the car and getting her things to walk inside with Isabelle.
Soon they were both running on treadmills and conversation was impossible. Then each moved on to other machines. After they had showered and dressed, they left to drive to an Italian restaurant.
In spite of the workout and Jada’s company, Isabelle couldn’t keep memories of Tony from distracting her.
After a leisurely dinner she dropped Jada off at the office parking lot, where Jada could get her own car.
“Thanks again, Jada. The dinner was delicious.”
“Have a super time in San Diego. I’ll see you next Monday. Bring back pictures.”
“I intend to. I haven’t had many trips.”
Isabelle waited while Jada climbed into her car and then she drove home. As she unlocked her door, her cell phone rang. When she answered, she heard Tony’s voice. With a racing heartbeat, she shook her head while she listened to him, even though each phone call involved her more deeply with him.
“How’s my most beautiful vice president?”
“Tony! That is so politically incorrect,” she chided with a smile.
“First of all, I’m talking to you. Secondly, this isn’t a business call and you surely never considered it as such. Third, it’s definitely the truth.”
She laughed, unable to be annoyed or take the question seriously. “So for now this call is not one between an entrepreneur and his employee.”
“Definitely not. A man calling a woman he wants to be with, take out, make love to …”
“Stop right there. You always move too fast,” she complained breathlessly, imagining his dark eyes holding their seductive look, aware for this moment she had his full attention.
“Always? Is everything too fast?” he asked, changing her meaning and stirring memories of standing in his arms while he kissed her slowly and thoroughly. “I’ll have to work on that one,” he said as if talking to himself.
“You know not always and not everything,” she replied, knowing she sounded even more breathless than before. “Sometimes I would describe you as slow and deliberate,” she said in a sultry voice, drawing out her words and enjoying flirting with him in return, even though she knew better and even though he was far away and not as much a temptation.
She heard his intake of breath. “We would have hundreds of miles between us,” he said in a thick, husky voice, echoing her thoughts.
“You began this,” she replied sweetly. “Maybe we should talk about business. Or far more safe, end this call that I really never intended to take.”
“Business is the last thing on my mind now,” Tony replied. “I have appointments tomorrow or I’d fly home earlier. Unfortunately, I can’t. Why wouldn’t you take my call?”
“We’re headed nowhere, Tony. This friendship should not be pursued for some basic reasons.”
“A minute ago you were enjoying our conversation.”
“It was nothing but harmless flirting that you started.”
“Harmless is not a good description. You set me on fire.”
“You brought it on yourself.”
“I tried to call you earlier when I had a break in my meeting. I missed you.”
“Sorry, I switched the phone to vibrate and had it in my purse. I worked out and then ate dinner with Jada, one of my friends from work. You probably don’t know a lot of the people yet.”
“I know some. Jada Picard, lawyer?”
“Right,” she said, surprised and wondering how many of the employees he could identify and if he learned only the names of those he planned to retain.
“I’m glad you weren’t working late again.”
“You did,” she reminded him.
“That’s also different. If I can get out of here a little earlier tomorrow, I’m going to. Snow is predicted and I don’t want to get snowed in.”
“No danger on my Dallas to San Diego flight,” she said. She kicked off her shoes and carried the phone to a favorite chair to sit and relax while she talked, taking her hair down and combing her fingers through it, promising herself she would end the talk in ten minutes as she glanced at her watch.
It was half-past twelve when she wondered why she couldn’t bring herself to cut him short on his calls. Even though she wasn’t seeing him, they were getting to know each other better with the long phone calls.
“Tony, I have to say good-night. I was only going to talk a few minutes. It’s after midnight.”
“So you’re enjoying this call as much as I am. We have a great time together, Isabelle. Let me hear you admit it.”
“Not now or tomorrow or anytime after that,” she replied, laughing.
“Just wait, I’ll prove it to you. Let me tell you how—”
“Good night,” she interrupted and broke the connection, laughing again. “Unfortunately, Tony Ryder, you’re right,” she admitted to no one.
Before dawn Thursday she was at the airport, looking for her colleagues in the waiting area at the gate. Since joining Morris she had worked closely with Nancy and George and she looked forward to traveling with them.
It was easy to spot Nancy’s red hair and tall George’s thick, wheat-colored blond hair. As they waited for their flight to board, she listened to them talk about their kids, thinking about Tony’s determination to avoid marriage, preferring his work to a family.
“Lucky you,” George kidded her, “you slept peacefully last night while Nancy was up at three with one of hers and my Billy had a basketball game, then dinner, then homework which included a project he needed help with so I had four hours’ sleep.”
Isabelle smiled with them. “What was the trouble with Molly?”
“Nightmares. She’s going through a stage,” Nancy replied.
“That’s one thing—it should be quiet in the hotel. Nancy and I have dreamed of the few hours we’ll be the only one in our rooms and absolutely no demands after midnight,” George said.
“Once we’re free tonight, I’ll bet both of you spend the evening calling home and talking to your families,” Isabelle said, knowing they kept in close touch. Their smiles confirmed her statement.
“After a call home,” Nancy said, “I’m taking a swim in the pool. We’ve seen a hundred pictures as they built the hotel and the pool looked gorgeous. Either of you want to join me, feel free to do so.”
“I will,” Isabelle said, thinking how much a swim would be welcome as a relief in her busy schedule.
While they flew, Isabelle went over appointments and brochures, names of California people she would meet. When they came into San Diego she gazed eagerly at the blue ocean below. Her anticipation grew. She looked forward to this trip for several reasons, business and personal, thankful for the experience and excited to see the city, the hotel and the ocean.
It was an opulent hotel, with a glassed-in lobby that had glittering crystal chandeliers, a plush deep blue carpet and a waterfall that spilled into a pool made of black marble. They went to the VIP lobby to check in, then headed to their rooms.
She spent the rest of the day touring the hotel, meeting the hotel executives, attending a meeting with them and then having dinner and enjoying a reception that included some VIP guests from the area who got a preview before the next day’s activities.
It was eleven when she returned to her suite from the pool. The luxurious suite opened onto its own beachfront. When Tony called, she settled in a chair on the deck, switching off the lights so she could see the whitecaps while they talked for the next two hours.
Later, in bed, she gazed into the darkness while she thought about seeing Tony again Monday. She fell asleep thinking about him and dreamed of him.
Friday, her schedule was booked and included a dinner with media people that ran until after nine. They finally broke up and people left the banquet room.
In her suite she changed to her swimsuit, slipping into a T-shirt, shorts and flip-flops. She headed up to the grand rooftop pool, stepping out onto a well-lit deck with a bar beyond the crystal blue pool. A man near the bar played a guitar, the music clear in the night air.
She put her things on a beach chair and slipped into the water. When she reached the opposite end she turned to see a man enter the area. Her heart missed beats as she paused breathlessly because Tony stood at the other end of the pool.

Five
She was shocked to see him. She watched as he walked along the side of the pool. Her gaze drifted over him, his broad, muscled chest covered with a mat of thick dark curls. His biceps bulged with muscles and his narrow strip of black swimsuit left the rest of him bare, reminding her too clearly of their night of love and his magnificent body.
Feeling hot even though she was in cool water, she continued her perusal. His legs were long, lean and muscled. When he reached the deep end, he jumped in to swim toward her. Her excitement heightened the closer he came until he stopped only inches away.
He combed his hair back with his fingers to get the curls away from his face. While he treaded water to stay afloat in the deep end, she held the side of the pool. Drops glistened on his broad shoulders and she was aware of every inch of him.
Even the spacious hotel pool seemed dominated by Tony, his dark gaze holding hers as if she were magnetized.
“This is a surprise,” she said
“I intended it to be, although I didn’t expect to find you in the pool.”
“I love to swim, but get few chances. The pool is convenient, so I’ve been swimming both nights,” she said, feeling giddy. “You flew here from Chicago?” she asked, still wondering if he had come to look at his newest hotel or if he had a more personal reason.
“By way of Dallas first,” he said. “How was your day?”
“Successful. I think they’ll have a terrific opening and between our publicity and the media interest, we should get dream coverage. If you came to talk to any of the media, they’re scattered all over the hotel.”
Tony smiled at her, his eyes dancing. “Isabelle, I didn’t fly out here to talk to the media or the hotel people.”
She drew another deep breath, finding the air had grown rarefied and she was having difficulty breathing. “You’re not here for business?”
“No. That’s handled by you and others. I don’t have to.”
“You may have wasted a trip,” she said, seeing red flags of warning waving. He had circumvented her plan to avoid being with him again.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “We’ll swim and then let’s go have a drink. We can talk about it.”
“Are you trying to complicate my life?” she asked.
“Not at all. You had planned a swim, so we’ll swim. Want to race the length and back? You can call go.”
Momentarily caught between consternation and excitement, she stared at him in silence until she realized he was waiting for an answer.
“I’ll race you. Go,” she said, splashing away from him and swimming with long strokes, aware he was beside her.
She relished the physical action, for a few moments trying to avoid thinking about the rest of the evening, yet she kept recalling the vision of him standing at the end of the pool, almost naked except for the strip of black, appealing, sexy, breathtaking.
She pushed herself while he was even with her until the return. Near the end of the pool she gave an extra spurt and beat him, bobbing up as he did.
“You win.”
“You let me,” she accused, smiling. “Do it again and stop holding back.”
“I held back very little. You’re a good swimmer. Especially if you haven’t been swimming often this year.”
“I haven’t been in a pool since last July. Race again? For real?”
He smiled. “Sure. You call go.”
“Go!” she exclaimed, plunging away from him and stretching herself. He stayed alongside her until they turned in the shallow end of the pool and headed back. Then he pulled away to win handily and wait for her while she swam up to him.
“You won easily as I expected. I concede. I suspect that last race was one of the few times you’ve allowed someone to beat you at something.”
“You’re saying I like to win,” he said.
“Yes. You’re competitive, perhaps controlling.”
He hit the water with the palm of his hand, causing water to splash her. “Controlling—I don’t want to be that. I’ve fought that all my life in my dad.”
“All your life?” she asked, treading water. “Surely you exaggerate.”
“Hardly,” he remarked. “That’s one thing that drives me to make money when I already have a fortune. If I have more than he does—or he sees I will have, he’ll get off my back.”
“I can’t imagine,” she said truthfully.
“It’s getting to be less a problem,” he said dismissively and she guessed he didn’t care to discuss it further.
She broke away from him, swimming lazily, and he joined her as they swam leisurely together.
When she stopped, treading water, he faced her to slip his arm around her waist and pull her closer. Her heart thudded because he was warm, wet, touching in so many places, legs, arms. “Tony—”
“I missed you this week and I’ve wanted to see you,” he said. His brown eyes were dark as night with desire in their depths. Her breathing became difficult again and her pulse raced as she placed her hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. She wanted to stop fighting him, to wrap her arms around his neck to kiss him. The attraction between them was mutual and strong, but she saw that as a swift road to disaster. Resistance to Tony was her only hope for avoiding entanglement, which meant heartbreak. Yet right now, she was captivated once again, unable to break away, too aware of his hands on her.
“I wasn’t going to do this again,” she whispered.
“You want to. I can see it in your eyes,” he whispered. He leaned closer. Without thought, she turned her mouth up to him and then his lips were on hers, her mouth opening at the first hot touch of his tongue. Their bodies pressed more closely together and she could feel his hard muscles, his warmth, his masculinity.

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