Blame It On Texas

“Because he doesn’t want you tending to celebrities,” Lewis guessed.

Lexie bit her lip. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” He turned toward her slightly, to better see her face.

Lexie began to pace the carpeted room. “My father thinks my profession is a joke, that in helping celebrities develop an individual style and image that I’m perpetuating at best a myth, and at worst, fraud.”

“Ouch!” Lewis tugged facetiously at the frayed neckline of his band-collared shirt as if it were choking him.

Happy to have someone understand how outrageous her father’s views were, Lexie stopped trying to contain her emotions. “He’s basically said if a person doesn’t know what to wear, or how to present themselves, then they have more problems than I can solve for them.”

Lewis winced. “When did he say this?”

She shrugged. “Five years ago, when my business really started taking off.”

Lewis got to his feet. “Because of the work you did for Constantine Romeo?” he asked, coming toward her.

Lexie nodded and headed back to the kitchen, this time to the cabinets next to the stove. She rummaged through them, until she found a box of saltines on the uppermost shelf. When she couldn’t quite snag it, Lewis reached up and got it for her. “That’s another sore subject between us,” she allowed, their fingertips brushing as he handed her the box.

He lounged against the cabinets, watching her open a wax packet and withdraw several crackers. “They didn’t get along?”

She offered him some, too. “My dad never forgave Constantine for taking me to Hollywood with him. Or me, for running off with him.” As always, the bland flavor of the cracker comforted her finicky tummy.

“You were just nineteen at the time.”

Lexie hunted in the fridge to see if there was any cheddar cheese. To her disappointment, there wasn’t. She got the peanut butter out instead. “Believe me, I know.”

“Regrets?” Lewis asked softly.

“More than you can count,” she admitted as she spread peanut butter on several crackers.

He smiled. “But that’s how we learn, right? By our mistakes.”

“You betcha.”

They both ate six or seven crackers. The silence between them was at once companionable, and fraught with a new tension that Lexie preferred not to identify. “How are you feeling?” Lewis asked finally.

She took a long drink, then shared what was left of her water with him. “The truth?”

He nodded, holding her eyes.

“Sleepy.”

He pushed away from the counter reluctantly. “Then I should be going.”

For some reason, Lexie did not want him to leave. Not yet. “What time is it?” she asked.

Lewis glanced at his watch. “Nearly four.”

“You must be tired, too,” she commiserated.

He shrugged.

“Want to stay and sack out on the couch?” The words were out before she could stop them.

Lewis paused.

Letting him know this was a strictly platonic move on her part, she teased, “I’d offer you the bed if I thought you’d take it.”

Desire lit up his blue-gray eyes. “Only if you’re in it, too.”

Lexie gasped. “Lewis!” she chided as heat filled her face.

He looked her square in the eye. “I may be a computer geek up here—” he pointed to his head “—but I’m a man down here.” He indicated the rest of him.

As if she hadn’t already secretly noticed how well he filled his jeans. Wishing he didn’t look so damn sexy Lexie looked away. “I’m beginning to realize that,” she said drolly.

“And you’ve already had one rough couple of days.” Lewis reached up to gently touch her face. His thoughts undoubtedly amorous, he looked down at her tenderly and caressed her cheekbone with the pad of his thumb.

Doing her best to slow her racing heart, she bantered back carelessly, “So you’re not offering to seduce me?” And why did she suddenly wish he were? Just because she had been totally in awe of him in their youth, did not mean they were right for each other.

“Not tonight.” Lewis bent his head, kissed her gently—and far too briefly. Not that this lessened the impact of his caress in any way. The feel of his lips brushing ever so sweetly over hers inundated Lexie with a longing unlike anything she had ever felt or imagined she could feel. An explosion of pleasure and need went off inside her, and she looked at him. What was happening here? Lexie wondered, struggling not to go up on tiptoe and kiss him back. She couldn’t be attracted to Lewis McCabe, could she? He wasn’t even her type. She fell for the smooth ones. The ones with all the lines. Not the ones who were so challenged in the wardrobe and personal style department it would take her professional guidance to get him straightened out; and even longer to make him into the complete babe magnet she knew he already was. At least to her. She privately admitted she didn’t want every other woman in his orbit feeling the same way.

Lexie caught herself up short. Aware she had already veered into dangerous territory, she said, “On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t be the one consulting with you on your new look.” It was too close to what she had done before. Taking on a man, making him her personal project. Helping him become everything he could be, only to have him leave her in the end. She did not want to go through that again. And she especially did not want to do that here in Laramie, Texas, under the watchful eyes of both their families.

Lewis grinned with a distinctly male satisfaction. “Too late,” he declared, cheerful as ever. “We already made a deal. I’m holding you to it.”

Lexie caught her breath, even as she wished he would kiss her again. Really kiss her this time. Not just tease her with the hope of what could possibly be.

“I’ll sack out on the sofa.” Lewis stepped back, ever the gentleman again. “That way, if you need anything, all you have to do is call,” he promised her softly. “I’ll be right here.”

Lewis McCabe had no idea how good that sounded to her.

Chapter Three

Lewis spent a good hour and a half thinking about the incredibly sweet and sensual kiss he’d shared with Lexie. He fell asleep dreaming about her and awakened to sunlight pouring in through the windows and someone pounding on the apartment door. Fearing all the ruckus was going to wake Lexie, he grabbed his shirt off the back of the sofa and struggled to his feet. Thrusting his arms in the sleeves, he rushed to open the apartment door.

Standing on the other side of the portal was a haughty-looking fiftysomething blonde in an expensive designer suit and high heels. Everything about her, from her immaculately coiffed hair to the heavy jewels adorning her body, bespoke tremendous wealth.

“I am Contessa Melinda della Gheradesca from Italy.”

Lexie’s mother.

Her glance drifted over his open shirt, bare chest and shoeless feet. Disdain coating every word, the Contessa demanded, “Who are you?”

Before he could answer, an equally disheveled Lexie stepped out.

It was Lexie’s worst nightmare come true, and then some. “Mother.” She trod closer, aware how the situation must look, since she was clad in another of her stepmother’s ethereal creations.

Melinda’s eyebrows arched even higher as she took in the plunging neckline of the black lace negligee Lexie was wearing. Lewis couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her, either. Trying hard not to blush, Lexie pulled the equally revealing black lace robe over her chest and folded her arms in front of her to keep it there. Steadfastly ignoring the flare of desire in Lewis’s eyes, she whirled back to the woman who had given birth to her, but never really nurtured her. “Mother. What are you doing here?”

Melinda touched a bejeweled hand to her immaculately coiffed hair. “Your father told me you were ill—I came as soon as I heard.”

That was a first, Lexie thought. Melinda hadn’t done more than telephone Lexie—albeit reluctantly—when she’d been hospitalized with pneumonia in the sixth grade. Nor had she ever tended to her personally if Lexie became ill when visiting. Instead, Melinda left her with a nurse until Lexie’s sniffles or tummy ailment cleared. Melinda was about as emotionally uninvolved a mother as could be, which made her appearance here now all the more strange. “When did he call you?” she asked.

“When he was en route with you from London. And I talked to him again two hours ago when my jet landed in Dallas. I must say, he did not mention anything about you—your new— Have you gone mad, taking a lover here in Laramie? Alexandra, for heaven’s sake! You can do so much better than this!”

Lexie flashed a deliberately cheerful smile. “Might want to be careful who you’re insulting, Mother,” she warned pleasantly. “This is Lewis McCabe, owner of McCabe Computer Games.”

Not a flicker of recognition, Lexie noted in frustration. “It’s the fastest growing computer game company in the country right now.” Melinda remained unmoved. Lexie took a deep breath and tried again to impress upon her mother why she should not denigrate Lewis further. “Or in other words, Lewis is a very wealthy and successful man, and destined to become even more so in the very near future.”

“Thanks for the stellar introduction,” Lewis said dryly, giving her a quelling look.

Lexie shrugged. Bringing up the cash value of anything was the quickest way to get her mother’s attention.

“I don’t understand,” Melinda said, as contemptuous as ever with someone she considered an underling. “Why is he here, Alexandra? Why are you both dressed—or maybe I should say undressed—like this? Your father never mentioned a boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Lexie interrupted quickly.

To her chagrin, Melinda sighed in obvious relief.

A uniformed chauffeur appeared behind Melinda, his arms full of luggage. “Where should I put these, madam?”

Melinda gestured to the middle of the room. “You can set my things here.”

Lexie gaped. “You’re staying with me?”

Her mother huffed. “Well, I can hardly bunk at your father’s ranch with him and Jezebel. And the lodgings in the area leave something to be desired. Actually, the whole town leaves something to be desired. I’ll never understand why your father left Dallas. When we were married, we had such a lovely home there.”

Here we go again. Lexie was aware that her mother blamed all of Lexie’s shortcomings on the fact that she’d been raised in Texas.

“And speaking of home, I better mosey on back to mine,” Lewis said tactfully, graciously closing the distance between them. His eyes met hers. He seemed to know she was as unnerved by her mother’s sudden appearance on her doorstep as he was. “Lexie—”

She nodded, letting him know his decision to depart was the right one. Glad he seemed to understand that she had no control whatsoever over her mercurial mother, she squeezed his hand and looked him in the eye. “I’ll call you,” she promised.

Just as soon as I find out what my mother is really doing here.

FORTUNATELY, ONCE LEWIS got to the office, he finally managed to shake off the unsettling encounter with the Contessa. He was able to strike a deal that would get his line of computer games shelved in yet another retail chain. The prototypes of two games showed substantial improvement, and the talented graphics designer he had been trying to hire to work exclusively for his company finally accepted his offer.

At four-thirty, his assistant, Maxine Cossman, stuck her head in the door. A whiz at organization, the stout fifty-year-old with the curly red hair and thick glasses kept him on track. “Lexie Remington is here to see you,” she remarked briskly. “I told her you had a prior engagement this evening. She hoped you would see her without an appointment anyway.”

Lewis rocked all the way back in his chair. This was a pleasant, albeit somewhat inconvenient, surprise. “Send her in. And Maxine, you can go on to your yoga class if you want.”

“Thanks.”

Maxine disappeared and a few moments later Lexie sauntered in. She was wearing a pair of slim black jeans, a long-sleeved white T-shirt, a cropped red corduroy jacket and boots. She looked amazing. “You’re supposed to be resting,” Lewis chided as she neared, enveloping him in a drift of exotic perfume.

“Been there, done that,” Lexie said sassily, perching on the front of his desk, just to his left.

Lewis tried to ignore the proximity of her long, sexy thigh next to his hand. Ignoring the jump of his pulse, he tilted his head at her and continued to regard her with lazy insouciance. “You’re aware that if you don’t follow doctor’s orders, I’ll be blamed.”

She crossed her legs at the knee. “What’s Riley going to do? Twist your arm?”

Lewis grinned at her soft, teasing tone. “Worse. He’ll give me a guilt trip.”

Lexie wrinkled her nose at him. “You look like you can handle a little remorse, provided it’s balanced by a good time.”

No kidding. It was all he could do to keep himself from dragging her down onto his lap and kissing her the way he had wanted to kiss her the night before, with no time limits and attempts at gentlemanly behavior. He didn’t want to be gallant. He wanted to give in to temptation. But he knew pushing her too hard, too fast, would be a huge mistake on his part, so he held back.

“Is that what you’re planning to give me?” He regarded her flirtatiously. “A good time?”

Flushing self-consciously, Lexie pushed away from his desk and bounded onto the floor. “Maybe we should just get down to business.” Her gaze drifted over him, his body heating with each lingering visual caress.

Lewis tensed, aware his feelings were anything but transactional. Maybe his brothers and sister-in-law were right. Now was the time to level with Lexie, while boundaries were still being set. “About that style makeover…” he started carefully.

Lexie stripped off her jacket and regarded him purposefully. “I want to get started tonight,” she stated, already pushing up the sleeves on her knit shirt. “Got a problem with that?”

“No sirree, I do not,” he quipped, deciding to see where this makeover stuff took him, after all. He’d tell her about the misunderstanding later. “What about your mom? Are you just going to leave the Countess alone, during her first evening in Laramie?”

“She’s sleeping. The jet lag and seven-hour time difference finally caught up with her.”

“So for her it’s midnight,” Lewis guessed, glad Lexie had sought refuge with him, even if it was for work-related reasons.

“Right.” Lexie lounged with her back to a metal file cabinet.

He strolled closer. “Does that mean she’ll be awake when you get home at midnight?”

She made a face that would have been comical if not for the sudden vulnerability in her pretty turquoise eyes. “Doubtful. The Contessa usually sleeps until noon at home. She reserves her afternoons for shopping or hair appointments, her evenings for social events.”

“Ah.” Lewis watched Lexie walk over to inspect the half-dozen umbrellas. He could always remember to bring an umbrella. He could just never remember to take it home. What that meant, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Lexie picked up one emblazoned with the Stanford University logo. She inspected it, end to end. “The Contessa leads an exceptionally busy life, you know. She’s a very important and socially well-connected person.”

Lewis followed her over to the stand. He sensed she needed to vent, and he was only too happy to listen. “You don’t have much respect for your mother, do you?” he asked in a low voice.

Lexie dropped the umbrella into the large, galvanized metal milk can. She picked up another he had picked up on one of his business trips. It was an unfortunate color of purple, but had been the only one available during the unexpected deluge he’d found himself in.

“No,” she said, “I don’t.”

The lack of apology in her expressive turquoise eyes was interesting to say the least. As was the career path she had chosen. Why had Lexie chosen a profession that had her constantly catering to the whims of people much like her snobbish, self-involved mother? “Ever thought of having that kind of life yourself?” he asked, playing devil’s advocate. She could have easily gone the pampered dilettante route, instead of working herself half to death.

She dropped the purple umbrella back into the can with a clang. “No, of course not. I’d be bored silly if all I did was go to parties.”

The lusciousness of her full lips had his gaze returning to her face again. “Is that why you can’t seem to slow down?”

Lexie mocked him with a look. “I am slowing down,” she declared emphatically. “I spent the whole day in bed, pretending to sleep.”

“Or avoiding your mother?”

She wrinkled her pretty nose at him, even as she inspected a small, rainbow-striped umbrella he’d also picked up on the run. “You are psychic,” she said playfully.

He shook his head, watching Lexie close the child-sized umbrella and put it back in the can, quietly this time. Lewis would give anything if he could spend time with his own mother again. But it wasn’t going to happen. They’d lost her to cancer when he was ten. “You ought to spend time with your mom while you have the chance,” he advised soberly.

Silence fell as Lexie stuck her hands in her pockets and said nothing, which made Lewis wonder if Jake Remington weren’t the only parent Lexie was fighting with. “How is your mom doing, by the way?” he asked gently, deciding to try a different tact.

She rocked forward and studied the scuffed toes of her red leather boots. “You saw the Contessa this morning.”

Wishing he knew Lexie well enough to haul her into his arms and hold her there until the hurting stopped, Lewis edged close enough to inhale the fragrant softness of her skin and hair. “Physically, your mom looked great. But she just lost her husband. That can’t be easy.”

“Yeah.” Tension tightened the delicate features of her face. “She’d never admit it, but I think she’s finding widowhood a little tougher to navigate than she imagined.”

Lewis heard the sympathy beneath the defiance in Lexie’s low tone. “Which is maybe why she came over to visit you,” he theorized.

The troubled look was back in Lexie’s pretty eyes. “Maybe, but my mother never does anything without an agenda.”

Lewis walked back over to his desk and shut down the e-mail and instant messaging system on his computer. “What agenda could she have here?” he asked. “Except to be close to you?”

“That’s just it. I don’t know.” Lexie’s teeth worried her lower lip as she inspected the mismatched furniture and state-of-the-art electronics in his office. “Financially, she’s fine.” She dropped down onto the black leather sofa in the corner. “Count Riccardo’s lawyers read the will when I was over there. He had no other family left so Mother got everything—all the family jewelry, tons of money, the villa in Naples, the country house in Florence.”

Lewis closed the distance between them and sat down next to her. “Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”

“You’d think so.” She stretched her slender legs out in front of her. “But…”

“What?” he prodded.

“She seems so edgy. Restless.”

Giving in to the need to comfort her, Lewis reached over and took her hand in his. “Isn’t that to be expected?” he asked gently. “She just lost her companion of the last twenty years.”

Lexie shook her head and left her hand clasped warmly in his. She ran the fingers of her free hand over the back of his. “They didn’t really have that kind of marriage.”

Trying not to get distracted by the heat of her caress, Lewis shifted his weight toward her. “What kind did they have?”

“Passionate, volatile.” She swallowed hard. “They were both very old-world European in their outlook.”

Lewis studied the veiled pain in her eyes. He tightened his hand protectively over hers. “I don’t get what you’re trying to say.”

Lexie’s voice took on an unhappy tone. “They both had lovers, lots of them, and they were okay with that.”

Lewis could only envision how hard that must have been for Lexie, who would have been exposed to that from the tender age of six. Bad enough to have your parents divorced and remarried, living on different continents. To have one set openly cheating… “Kind of the opposite of your dad and Jenna,” Lewis surmised compassionately.

“Yeah, those two are really devoted to each other.” Lexie smiled reflectively. “Kind of like your Dad and Kate.”

Lewis knew his own life would have been a lot harder had Kate Marten not stepped in to help him and the rest of his family deal with the loss of his mother. Kate’s love and understanding had healed his family and brought love and laughter to their lives again. “We both lucked out in the stepmother department, didn’t we?”

Lexie nodded. “So, are you ready to get to work?” she asked. Energetic as ever, she perched on the edge of the sofa.

Lewis kept a grip on her palm, wishing the situation were different. “Not quite yet,” he said.

Lexie looked frustrated. “What’s stopping you?”

Lewis frowned. “My previous plans for the evening.”

“YOU’VE GOT A DATE.” She didn’t know why, but just the thought of him seeing someone else was very disheartening.

“With about sixteen people.”

Now he had lost her.

“I’m hosting the monthly Laramie High School computer club get-together,” Lewis explained. “The kids will be here at six.” Noting the time, he said, “I’ve got to get the testing lab ready.” An inviting smile curved his lips. “You can tag along if you like.”

She regarded him in amazement. “You do this yourself?”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Used to being around people who lorded their wealth and power over others at every opportunity, Lexie shook her head in bemusement. “You own an entire company.”

“It doesn’t mean I’m above getting out some game prototypes and ordering pizza and soft drinks.” Lewis returned to his desk and typed in something on his computer screen. The menu for Mac Callahan’s restaurant popped up. He gestured her over. “Anything here look good to you?”

Lexie moved behind his desk chair. She curved her hands over the back of it, as she bent down to scan the offerings from Laramie’s favorite pizza place. “The hot wings,” she said quickly.

Lewis turned to shoot her a glance, the side of his face lightly brushing the side of hers. “Not quite on your diet,” he chided.

Refusing to acknowledge how sexy she found the brush of his evening beard against the softness of her skin, she shrugged.

Lewis turned back to the menu, clearly a man on a mission. “How about a white pizza?” he asked, after a moment. “Crust, olive oil, fresh mozzarella. Nothing there to get your acid reflux going, especially if we ask them to go easy on the basil and garlic.”

Lexie appreciated the way he was taking care of her. No one—except her dad and Jenna—had done that for a very long time. “Sounds good,” she said, surprised by the sudden huskiness of her voice. Aware the backs of her hands were still brushing the hard musculature of his shoulders, she stepped back and cleared her throat. “What is everyone else going to eat?”

“A little of everything,” Lewis said, typing in the appropriate choices on his computer and then sending the delivery order via the Internet.

Doing her best to calm her racing heart, Lexie roamed the spacious office, which did as little to reflect Lewis’s personality as his ridiculously out-of-fashion clothing. Both were things she could fix. In that way, she realized, she’d be taking care of him, too. Lexie paused to study one of the many awards hanging on the wall. “It’s been a long time since I had Mac Callahan’s pizza,” she said in the most casual tone she could manage. “Mac still works there?”

“Along with his daughter, Casey,” Lewis confirmed with a smile. He rose and crossed to her side.

“Funny how some things never change,” Lexie continued awkwardly, acutely aware of how arousing she found Lewis’s formidable size and masculine strength.