The Texan's Tiny Secret

Not that he hadn’t had his fair share of female relationships, he reminded himself. He just hadn’t met one like Suzy before.

Just Suzy.

A smile tugged at his lips as he envisioned her again, standing at the side of her van, dressed in those ridiculous-looking pink platform sneakers and leopardprint pants, brandishing her keys at him as if they were a weapon. She probably would have used them, too, if he hadn’t spoken, thus revealing his identity. A hellcat, he thought, silently admiring her spunk.

“Gil? Are you listening to me?”

Startled, he glanced over at his secretary, then offered her a rueful smile. “Sorry, Mary. I guess my mind wandered.”

She closed her day planner with a snap and rose, her lips pursed in disapproval. “And no wonder. You’ve been burning the candle at both ends since the day you took office. You need a vacation. Why don’t you go to the ranch for a couple of days and relax?”

Though a trip to his ranch was appealing, he shook his head. “No rest for the weary. Not right now, at any rate.”

“Well, there’s nothing here that won’t keep until tomorrow.” She headed for the door. “At least go upstairs and put your feet up before you have to go to that meeting tonight.”

“Mary?”

Her hand on the knob, she paused, a brow arched in question. “Yes?”

“Do you know who catered that party last weekend?”

She frowned slightly. “No. Why?”

He lifted a shoulder. “No particular reason.” He dropped a hand to his desktop and shuffled a few papers. “Do you think you could find out for me?”

“Well, yes,” she replied hesitantly, clearly puzzled by the request. “I’m sure I could.”

He lifted his head and gave her a grateful smile. “Do that for me, would you? And give me a call if you’re successful.”

Suzy hadn’t read a newspaper in years, avoided television newscasts like the plague and turned the dial if a news bulletin happened to interrupt the music playing on her favorite radio station. She despised the news, no matter what the format, and considered those who reported it lower than scum.

But her aversion to news and the news media hadn’t prevented her from recognizing the governor of Texas when he’d slipped into the kitchen at the party she’d catered over the weekend. From the moment Gil Riley had tossed his cowboy hat into the ring and announced his intent to run for governor, he had become the most-talked-about man in the state of Texas. Within days of his announcement, his name and picture had appeared on billboards scattered along Texas roadways and on the rear bumpers of every make and model of vehicle, from the beat-up farm truck to the luxury sports car.

A nonpolitician—and a rancher, at that—running for governor was enough of an oddity to grab the attention of the entire populace. He quickly won the hearts of his fellow Texans by promising to represent the common man, especially those in rural areas, and put an end to big business and government taking over the Lone Star State and forcing families from their homes and off the land their ancestors had fought for and labored on for years.

But his platform wasn’t all that caught the voters’ attention. His youth, his Marlboro Man rugged looks and his bachelor status appealed to the masses as much as did his stand on the issues.

Especially to the women.

Throughout the months preceding the election, he was gossiped about and fantasized about in beauty salons, during coffee breaks and at the checkout lines in grocery stores. By the time November rolled around and his landslide victory announced, there wasn’t a single woman in Texas who hadn’t woven a secret dream or two of becoming his first lady.

Even Suzy.

And why not? Suzy asked herself with a defensive sniff. With his slow Texas drawl, his hard, lean body and that you-can-trust-me killer smile of his, the man was a natural woman-magnet. And if the stories told about him were true—which she seriously doubted, since he was, after all, a politician—he had more going for him than just a handsome face and a to-die-for body. He was intelligent and possessed an almost uncanny business sense, with a degree from Texas A&M and a successful cattle operation to substantiate both. And he was a philanthropist, to boot, she remembered hearing somewhere, donating both his time and his money to causes that focused on abused children and troubled teens.

Handsome and with a tender and generous heart. What more could a woman ask for in a man? she asked herself.

Scowling, she rammed her wide-brimmed hat farther down on her head. “One who doesn’t live in a fishbowl,” she reminded herself.

With her knees buried in rich brown dirt, she kept her head down and her gaze focused on the weeds sprouting in her garden, telling herself that she wouldn’t think about Gil Riley anymore. He was a walking, talking nightmare she didn’t need in her life or her head right now or at any time in the future, no matter how attractive she found him.

But in spite of her determination to do otherwise, thoughts and images of the governor continued to drift through her mind as she worked in her garden, just as they had from the moment he’d waltzed into the kitchen at the party she’d catered, catching her unawares with his suggestion that she should’ve tapped a keg, instead of serving flutes of champagne.

Tapped a keg.

A smile twitched at her lips at the memory. But the smile slowly melted when a pair of cowboy boots moved into her line of vision only inches from her hand.

It can’t be, she told herself, staring in horror at the tips of the custom-made boots.

“You’re hard as hell to track down, you know it?”

It not only could be, she realized, recognizing the governor’s distinctive drawl, it was. She forced a swallow, then was careful to fix a frown on her face before looking up. “What are you doing here? Hiding out again?”

“No. I came to see you.”

His smile was as warm and guileless as the sunshine that beamed down on her face. But it was wasted on Suzy. She’d learned long ago not to trust a man’s smile or be fooled by one’s charm. She sank back on her heels and narrowed her eyes at him. “Why?”

He lifted a shoulder. “No reason. Was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by and say hello.”

She rocked forward, planted a gloved hand against the ground and started pulling weeds again. “Okay. You’ve said it. Now beat it, before I call the cops and have you arrested for trespassing.”

Instead of leaving, as she’d hoped, he hunkered down opposite her, braced an arm on his thigh and dipped his head down to look at her. “Have I done something to offend you?”

She crawled to the next plant, refusing to look at him. “You’re still breathing, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, and obviously that doesn’t please you.” He duck-walked to keep pace with her. “But what I want to know is why?”

With a frustrated huff, she fell back on her heels. “Is there a law that says every woman in the state has to drop at your feet and pant when you say heel?”

A slow grin spread across his face. “No. But if that’s what it takes to get you to agree to go out with me, I’ll see what I can do to push a bill through Congress to that effect.”

She rolled her eyes and leaned to snatch at a weed. “Don’t waste your time.” He closed a hand over hers, stilling her movements, and she jerked up her head to glare at him.

“Look,” he said patiently. “All I’m asking for is a little of your time. A chance to get to know you, and for you to get to know me. Now, that’s not too much to ask, is it?”

“Suzy? Is that you, dear?”

She groaned at the sound of her neighbor’s warbling voice coming from the other side of the privacy fence. “Yes, it’s me, Mrs. Woodley!”

“Are you all right, dear? I thought I heard a man’s voice.”

She snatched her hand from beneath Gil’s. “Nosy busybody,” she muttered, then raised her voice, “Yes, I’m fine, Mrs. Woodley. Just visiting with a—” she glanced at Gil and curled her lip in a snarl “—friend.”

“Who, dear?”

Hissing a breath through her teeth, she scrambled to her feet and grabbed Gil’s hand, tugging him to his feet, as well. “No one you know, Mrs. Woodley!” Dragging Gil behind her, she ran for the house. “I’m going inside now, Mrs. Woodley,” she yelled. “Talk to you later.”

Before the woman could respond, Suzy yanked Gil inside the house and slammed and locked the door behind them. Ripping off her hat and gloves, she tossed them onto the table as she raced to the window that faced her neighbor’s house.

Gil chuckled as he watched her jerk down the shade. “I take it Mrs. Woodley is a bit like Gladys Kravitz.”

She snorted as she darted past him to pull down the shade over the window above the kitchen sink. “Worse. And if she finds out the governor’s at my house, she’ll be on the phone telling all her friends. Wouldn’t surprise me if she herded them all over to ask for your autograph.”

He lifted a shoulder. “I’d be happy to give all your neighbors my autograph.”

She sent him a withering look as she headed down a hall.

Shaking his head, Gil followed. “Are you going to pull every shade in the house?”

“You’re darn right I am.” In the living room she dropped a knee onto the sofa and stretched to grab the shade that partially covered the window behind it. She froze, then leaned over the back of the sofa to peer outside. “Oh, no,” she moaned.

Gil crossed to stand behind her, stooping to see what had disturbed her. “What is it?”

She grabbed the string and jerked down the shade. “Not what. Who!”

Not having seen anything out of the ordinary, he straightened. “Who, then?”

She pushed from the sofa and stood, wringing her hands as she stared at the front door, as if she expected it to burst open at any moment. “Reporters.”

“Reporters?” Gil moved to the end of the sofa and lifted the shade a fraction to peer outside. He glanced over his shoulder. “You mean those guys in that black sedan across the street?”

She gulped, then nodded.

He laughed and dropped the shade. “They aren’t reporters. They’re my bodyguards. Although Dave acts like an overprotective father at times.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure I’m sure.” He opened the door and shouted. “Hey, Dave! Show this lady your ID.”

The man behind the wheel lifted a hip, pulled out his wallet and flipped it open. Sunshine glinted off a silver badge he held out the open window. Gil glanced over at Suzy who had joined him at the door. “Satisfied?”

“They go everywhere you go?”

“Yeah,” he said as he closed the door. “Well, not everywhere,” he amended. “I am allowed to go to the rest room alone.”

Suzy glanced up in surprise, then sputtered a laugh when she saw the teasing in his eyes. “Well, it’s good to know that at least some things in life are still sacred.”

“Do that again.”

Her laughter dried up in her throat as she watched the amusement in his eyes soften to wonder. She took a nervous step back. “Do what?”

“Laugh.” He caught her arm and turned her around to face him, holding her in place by her elbows. “I like the sound of it.”

Heat from his hands radiated up her arms, setting off warning bells in her head. Though she knew she should send him packing, she found she couldn’t move. But it wasn’t his strength that held her in place, though she could feel the power in the hands that gripped her. It was something in his eyes. A warmth. A gentleness. And something in his voice. Warmth again. And a huskiness that made her toes curl inside her tennis shoes.

He touched a finger to the corner of her eye, and a slight smile curved his mouth. “And I like what it does to your face. It softens your features. Makes you seem friendlier, more approachable.”

He drew the tips of his fingers along her cheek, and a shiver chased down her spine. “What…are you doing?”

“Touching you. Is that okay?”

Before she could reply, he placed a thumb against her lips and smoothed it along the crease. Another shiver chased down her spine as he slipped his hand around to cup the back of her neck. Her eyes riveted on his, her pulse thrumming, she watched the blue in his eyes darken, turn molten.

“I’m going to kiss you, Suzy,” he said quietly.

Even as he offered the warning, he was lowering his face to hers.

And Suzy, God help her, was pushing to her toes to meet him halfway.

Two

Suzy knew one thing for sure.

Gil Riley sure as heck wasn’t gay.

No man could kiss a woman like this and be anything but totally heterosexual. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.

Well, maybe she could move, she decided belatedly and lifted her arms to loop them around his neck. The change in position brought him a step closer, his chest chafing against her breasts, his arms winding around her waist. With a skill that sent her blood racing, he teased her lips apart with gentle flicks of his tongue.

And forced her to add a new item to the governor’s already lengthy résumé: master seducer.

He’s good, she thought, giving herself up to the sensual rock of his mouth over hers, the erotic play of his tongue. Maybe too good, she thought with a shiver. Mesmerized by the pillowed softness of his lips, the commanding pressure of his mouth, she was only distantly aware of him sliding his hands from her waist to splay them across her buttocks. But when he tugged her up against him, she forgot about his mouth and the seductive lure of his lips, her attention snagged by the hard column of the erection nudging her abdomen. Alarm bells clanged in her head.

What are you doing! What is he doing! You don’t need this kind of trouble. Get rid of him. Tell him to get lost. Toss him out the door on his ear!

She intended to heed the warnings. She really did! And would have, if he hadn’t, at that moment, dug his fingers into her buttocks and lifted her, dragging her body up the length of his, until their groins were flush, their mouths perfectly aligned. With her held tightly against him, he deepened the kiss, softened it, then deepened it again, sending her pulse tripping, her mind reeling…and her good intentions skipping straight down the proverbial road to hell.

As he spun the kiss out, his tongue tangling with hers in an erotic dance for dominance, she lost all sense of time, all sense of place, all sense of self. She felt as if she were caught in the eye of one of Texas’s famous twisters, her body battered by a constant barrage of sensations and emotions, her mind stripped bare of all thought and reason.

She wanted this man, she realized with a suddenness that made her heart stumble a beat. More than she’d ever wanted any man before, she wanted Gil Riley. But even as her mind registered this need, he tightened his arms around her, all but squeezing what was left of the breath from her lungs. A groan rose from deep in his throat, and she sensed the regret in the sound, felt it as he eased his hold on her and let her slide back down his body, tasted it as he slowly dragged his mouth from hers.

Weakened, she braced her hands against his chest and drew in a shaky breath, telling herself that it was her imagination, that his kiss hadn’t held the power, the perfection that her mind insisted on attributing to it. But when she opened her eyes and met his gaze, saw the heat there, the same surprise and passion that clouded her own, she knew she was in trouble.

He touched a finger to the moisture he’d left on her lips, and a smile curved one side of his mouth. “You’re one hell of a kisser, Just Suzy.”

And so was he, she thought, gulping. Before she gave in to the temptation to throw herself back into his arms for a second go at him, she inhaled deeply, drawing in the oxygen she needed to clear her head, steady her pulse and ease from his embrace. “You’re not too shabby a kisser, yourself, guv.”

He laughed and the masculine sound filled the room and vibrated through her, filling her with an unexpected sense of longing and regret she couldn’t even begin to explain.

“I like you, Suzy.”

Because she was afraid that she was beginning to like him, too, she turned away. “So you’ve said.”

“My life isn’t my own right now, but I’d like to spend what free time I can manage with you.”

She closed her eyes, digging deep for the strength, the flippancy she needed to send him on his way. Plucking a pillow from the sofa, she slapped a hand against it, fluffing it. “Sorry, guv, but my dance card is pretty full.”

“There’s a private reception Friday night to dedicate a new children’s wing at one of the local hospitals. Will you go with me?”

She dropped the pillow back to the sofa and turned, a brow arched in question. “This Friday?” At his nod, she lifted her hands. “Sorry. I’ve already got plans.”

He stared at her a moment, as if weighing the truth in her refusal, then slipped his fingers into his shirt pocket and pulled out a small envelope. “If your plans should change, this will get you in the door.” He dropped the invitation onto the coffee table, then touched a finger to his temple, his smile returning. “See you around, Suzy.”

“What’s this?”

Suzy glanced over her shoulder and swallowed a groan when she saw the card Renee was holding. Wishing she’d tossed the invitation into the garbage, as she’d intended, she turned back to the sink and continued to wash strawberries. “Some stupid reception for a new wing at a hospital.”

“Are you going?”

“No.”

“Why not? Everybody who is anybody is going. I read about it in Paul Skinner’s gossip column. Even the governor will be there.”

“So?”

“So go! Rub elbows with the rich and famous. Play Cinderella for a night.”

Suzy snorted a laugh. “Yeah, right. Like I have any aspirations of being Cinderella.”

Renee picked up the colander filled with freshly washed strawberries. “Oh, come on, Suz. Every girl dreams of being Cinderella at least once in her life.”

Suzy followed Renee to the island, drying her hands on her apron’s skirt. She picked up a knife and selected a strawberry from the colander as she settled onto a stool beside her assistant. “Not me. I quit believing in fairy tales a long time ago.”

“Bull hockey.”

Lifting a brow, Suzy turned to level a look on Renee. “I beg your pardon?”

Renee ignored her and continued to slice strawberries. “Every girl dreams of being Cinderella and meeting her own Prince Charming. Even you,” she said, and stubbornly met Suzy’s gaze.

Huffing a breath, Suzy resumed her coring. “Even if what you said were true, and it’s not,” she added, slanting Renee a warning look, “I certainly wouldn’t find my Prince Charming at a hospital wing dedication.” She sputtered a laugh. “Imagine me attending a reception with a bunch of snooty old do-gooders.”

“Everyone there isn’t going to be old and snooty. Remember? The governor’s going and he’s definitely not old. And he’s not snooty, either. In fact, I think he’s about as down-to-earth and friendly as any person could possibly be. And if there is such a man as Prince Charming,” she added, “Gil Riley certainly fits the bill.”

Before Suzy could argue the point, the doorbell sounded and the telephone rang at the same time. Renee laid down her knife and rose. “I’ll get the door.”

Hoping that by the time her assistant returned to the kitchen, she would have forgotten all about the stupid invitation, Suzy picked up the phone. “Suzy’s Succulent Sensations,” she said into the receiver.

“Suzy?”

She squeezed her eyes shut at the quaver she heard in the familiar voice, recognizing it as a sign her mother was having a bad day. Determined to be cheerful, she tucked the phone between shoulder and ear, reached for the knife again and began to core strawberries. “Hello, Mother. How’re you doing today?”

“Okay…I guess.”

Suzy heard the self-pity in the response, but refused to fall prey to it. “That’s good. Are you planning to work in your garden today?”

“No,” her mother replied in a lifeless voice that threatened to suck Suzy down into an equally despairing mood. “I just don’t have the heart for it today.”

“But it’s a such a beautiful day,” Suzy insisted, knowing from experience that staying inside with the curtains drawn would only darken her mother’s depression more.

“Is it?” her mother replied vaguely. “I hadn’t noticed. Suzy?”

Suzy heard the tears building and tensed. “What is it, Mother? Has something happened?”

“No. No.” She sniffed noisily. “It’s just that last night I dreamed your father—”

Suzy stiffened, curling her fingers around the knife’s handle. “Don’t call him that.”

“I’m sorry, dear. The reverend, then. I dreamed the reverend called and wanted to see us. It seemed so real,” her mother continued, her voice quavering with a mixture of fear and hope.

“You know what the doctor said,” Suzy reminded her sternly. “You’re not to focus on your dreams or to even think about them. You’re supposed to occupy your mind on something else. Do you have any new books to read?”

“No.” Her mother sniffed delicately. “I haven’t felt much like getting out and going to the library.”

“How about a jigsaw puzzle? I’ll bet the new ones I brought you are still in the top of the hall closet.”

There was a slight pause, and Suzy could almost see her mother turning to gaze vacantly at the closet door.

“You brought me puzzles?” Suzy heard her mother ask, as if she’d totally forgotten about Suzy’s visit and her placing the boxes there.

“Would you like for me to come and visit you?” Suzy asked, her concern growing. “I have desserts to make for a party tonight, but I could come later this afternoon, after I’ve delivered them.”

“No, dear. I’ll be all right. I’ll just take down one of the puzzles you brought and work on it today.”

“Good idea, Mother. And go outside for a while,” Suzy begged. “Being out in the sun and fresh air will do you a world of good.”

“Oh, my gosh! Look, Suzy! Roses! Dozens of them!”

Suzy glanced up, her eyes rounding as Renee returned to the kitchen, carrying a huge vase of yellow roses. Dumbfounded, she angled the receiver back in front of her mouth. “Mother, I need to go. I’ll call later this afternoon and check on you, all right?”

“Yes, dear. That would be nice.”

At the click, indicating her mother had hung up, Suzy returned the phone to its base, staring as Renee set the vase of roses opposite her on the island.

“Aren’t they gorgeous?” Renee cried, laughing gaily. “And look! There’s one sunflower tucked right in the middle.” She quickly unpinned the small envelope from the ribbon wrapped around the sunflower’s stem and thrust it at Suzy. “Open it and see who they’re from.”

Fearing she already knew who had sent the roses, Suzy plucked a strawberry from the colander, pretending disinterest. “Probably some grateful hostess we catered a party for.”

“Then you won’t mind if I look.” Without waiting for permission, Renee ripped open the envelope and pulled out the card. She gasped, slapping a hand over her heart. “Oh, my God, Suzy! They’re from the governor!” She lifted her head, her eyes wide, then dropped her gaze to the card again, and read, “‘The roses are standard trying-to-impress-a-woman fare, but the sunflower is simply because it reminded me of your sunny smile. Hope to see you tonight.’”

Her cheeks burning, Suzy snatched the card from Renee’s hand and stuffed it into her apron pocket.

Renee rounded the island, her mouth sagged open. “The governor sent you the invitation to the dedication?”

Suzy lifted a shoulder. “So what if he did? I’m not going.”

“But you have to go!” Renee slid onto a stool, her knees bumping Suzy’s as she spun to face her. “This is the opportunity of a lifetime! A date with the governor, for cripe’s sake! The hunkiest and most lusted-after bachelor in the entire state. You’d be a fool not to go.”

Suzy slipped off her stool, gathering the pile of cut stems into her hands. “Then I’m a fool.” She crossed to the sink and poked the cuttings down the disposal. “Because I’m sure as heck not going anywhere as the governor’s date.”