Tycoon's Temptation: The Truth About the Tycoon / The Tycoon's Lady / HerTexan Tycoon

Her hair felt just as silky as it looked, and it took more effort than it should have to move his hand away.

“But… but aren’t you tired? You were in an accident yesterday, for pity’s sake. You surely don’t want to be going out.”

“I don’t offer to do things if I don’t want to. Agree. You learn how to relax,” he murmured. “I meet some new people. And maybe your problem with Wendell will solve itself.”

Her eyes were impossibly wide. “You talk people into doing lots of things, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Now that was true. Only person he’d never been able to talk into something was Roth.

She exhaled. “I suppose we could go to the Tipped Barrel. It’s fairly popular with some people.”

The Tipped Barrel was exactly where he wanted to go, only he’d intended to go there alone until Hadley began bemoaning her small difficulty with Wendell.

“And you?”

“Oh, I’ve never been there. Never been to any bar in my entire life, for that matter. When people see me there, they’ll be certain you’re corrupting me.” A glint sparked in her eyes and she smiled suddenly. Brilliantly. “Okay. I’ll do it. Let’s go.”

“You don’t want to change clothes or anything?”

Her enthusiasm visibly faltered and he felt like kicking himself when she looked down at herself. “Right,” she muttered. “Of course. How silly of—”

He caught her chin in his fingers and lifted. “You don’t need to change,” he said gruffly. He figured he wouldn’t win any awards by telling her he was used to dealing with far more high-maintenance women. “You’re perfect the way you are.”

She didn’t look convinced. And standing there touching her face—satin smooth and velvet soft and, if he wasn’t mistaken, completely devoid of artifice—wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done in his life. Because he definitely wasn’t soft. At all.

He lowered his hand. “It’s cold out. Do you want to get a warmer coat?”

Hadley nodded. She would probably never have an opportunity like this again. To dissuade Wendell by his own choice without her ever having to tell him she had absolutely no interest in him and hurting his poor feelings. “We’ll, um, need to walk,” she reminded him, ignoring the little voice inside her head that mocked her for not admitting that the appeal here had nothing whatsoever to do with Wendell. “Are you sure you want—”

“Get your coat, Hadley.”

She didn’t wait around for Wood to come to his senses and change his mind. She went and got her coat.

And if she ran a brush through her hair and spritzed on a little perfume that Evie had given her for Christmas to compensate for the sexless bulky parka she donned, then only she had to know.

Wood was waiting by the front door in his leather jacket.

Her steps faltered. She might be warmer, but he wouldn’t be. “You need a coat, too.”

He shrugged, unconcerned. “I’ll be fine.”

“We could stop by Shane’s and borrow one.”

“And give the good sheriff a chance to talk you out of this?” Wood opened the door and nudged her through. “Don’t think so.”

He had a point. She snatched the black muffler from her own neck though, and held it out to him. “At least use this. If you end up catching pneumonia or something, I’d never forgive myself.”

He took the long scarf and looped it around his neck. “Satisfied?”

“I would be if you had gloves, too.”

He smiled and grabbed her hand, then tucked them both, her mitten and all, in his pocket. “This’ll do.”

She gulped a little, and concentrated hard on not falling down the steps beside him.

The night was clear, the dark sky studded with stars, easily visible despite the glow of the streetlights as they walked toward town. Hadley gathered herself enough to point out different places as they walked. “That’s church row.” She gestured to a tree-lined turnoff. “My dad’s church—Lucius Community—and two others are on that street. It’s really called Poplar Avenue, but with the town’s only churches located there…” She shrugged. Even through her mitten she could feel the warmth of his long fingers wrapped around hers. The sensation was causing her to babble.

“Is there a hospital here?”

“A very small one. And we seem to have enough doctors and dentists to serve the town, fortunately. We even have a chiropractor.” She eyed him. “Stu got laid up a while back after he tangled with an ornery cow. Up to then, he’d never been to a chiropractor in his life. Now he’s a believer, though. I can give you his number if you’re sore from the accident.”

“I’m surviving,” he assured.

“But how does your forehead feel?”

His gaze slanted her way. “Like it tried to go through a windshield.”

She bit her lip. “I’m so sorry.”

His fingers squeezed hers a little. “Forget it.”

But, of course, she couldn’t. Their accident was the sole reason he was stuck in Lucius, and there was no point in pretending otherwise. Just because he’d chosen to pass the time helping her out of her situation with Wendell didn’t change anything, other than to prove what a really nice man he was.

They passed the sheriff’s office. The windows were dark. Shane was undoubtedly working on the house at the edge of town that he’d been building himself. In contrast, when they reached it, the Tipped Barrel was lit up like the Fourth of July. There was a spill of vehicles parked in front of the lively tavern. Her feet dragged to a halt, though, when she recognized one of them.

“What’s wrong?”

Hadley wished she could pretend she hadn’t seen her brother-in-law’s truck. “My sister’s husband is in there,” she said after a moment.

“Judging by the number of cars, it looks like half the county is in there. Popular like you said.”

“Yes.” She tugged her hand out of the warm safety of his pocket. “The last time Charlie went to the Tipped Barrel, he got in a bar fight. My sister and he are still paying off the damages. He’s not supposed to come here, at all.”

“Then call your brother. He’s the sheriff.”

Hadley started through the parking lot. “He is, and he’d probably have to lock Charlie up, and Charlie would lose his job, and Evie and my niece and nephews would be the ones to suffer the consequences. It’ll have to be me. I’ll just see you back at Tiff’s.

He snorted, and caught her arm. “Whoa. Hold on. You think I’m going to let you go in there on your own? You’ve never been in a bar, remember? What was your brother-in-law fighting about?”

“Who knows? If he was drinking, and why else would he have gone there—” she pointed accusingly at the tavern “—other than to drink? Then he wouldn’t need much reason. He’s not really pleasant when he drinks.”

“And your sister stays with him because he’s a great guy when he’s not drinking?”

Hadley sighed. She stepped around a pile of slushy mud. “I really wish you’d go back to Tiff’s.”

“Why?”

She stopped. Flopped her hands to her sides. “Because this is embarrassing, okay? You’re a nice guy, and there is probably nothing but trouble waiting inside that place. I’m not going to… to relax, and you’re not going to meet anyone but Charlie,’ cause I can’t let him stay in there! I think I’ve caused you enough problems. For heaven’s sake, the last thing you should concern yourself with is my problems with my brothers and Wendell Pierce or Charlie

Beckett.”

“How old are you?”

She faltered. “What? I’m twenty-seven. And no, you don’t have to tell me how pathetic it is that I’ve never been into a bar at my age.”

“Your concern for me is commendable but unnecessary,” he said, his voice flat. “I’ve got ten years on you, sweetness, and a lifetime of managing my own way. If you’re foolish enough to think I’ll let you go in there to deal with your brother-in-law alone, then you’re not as bright as I thought.”

“I wish we’d never come out tonight,” she muttered. “Well fine, Mr. In-Control, have it your way. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She marched toward the entrance, not daring to think beyond getting through the front door.

Wood closed his hand over the back of her neck as they went inside. Instead of shivering from the contact, though, she found it comforting.

A couple Hadley had never seen before brushed against them as they hurried out the door, and Wood stepped even closer to her. She could feel the steadiness of him all down her spine, and it gave her enough courage to stop praying that Charlie wouldn’t be inside after all and to start looking around for him.

There was a long, dark bar across the rear of the room. Smoke hung in the red-tinted air, and music blasted from the live group playing on a raised platform, not entirely disguising the clink of balls on the collection of pool tables or the voices from the people bellied up to the bar.

Wood lowered his head next to hers. “Do you see him?”

His cheek had brushed against hers, a hint of rasp in the contact. She shivered inside her coat. “No. I can’t believe how many people are here.”

“Friday night,” Wood dismissed. “Maybe he’s at one of the tables.” Even as he spoke, he was moving forward. Hadley moved with him. They skirted the pool tables. Four in all, and all being used.

“What’s he look like?” His cheek rasped against hers again.

How quickly her thoughts could scramble. She focused with an effort. The cigarette smoke was nearly choking her. “Shorter than you. Medium-brown hair. Kind of a husky build. I can’t believe Charlie would come here again after—” She jumped when the smash of glass sounded nearby.

She’d barely had time to look in the direction of the fracas before she found herself firmly tucked behind Wood, his hand unrelentingly strong on hers as he held her there.

She peered around his wide shoulder to see three men scuffling near the bar, and sagged against Wood with relief. None of them were Charlie.

“Had? What the hell you doing here?”

She whirled around and nearly yanked her arm out of her socket thanks to Wood’s grip. “Charlie.” She tugged at Wood and he turned with her. “I could ask the same thing of you. Does Evie know you’re here?”

Charlie made a face and lifted his drink. “What makes you think she’d care? Your sister doesn’t remember what the word fun even means.”

Hadley stepped closer to him, steeling herself against the stench of alcohol emanating from him. “She’s busy at home taking care of your children,” she reminded, raising her voice over the noise, higher than she’d have liked. “Come on. We’ll drive you home.”

Charlie laughed at that, his bleary eyes looking from her to Wood. “In what? Evie told me you’d busted up your truck again, along with someone else’s. Nosy idiot, is what you are.”

“In your truck,” she said tightly.

“Who says I wanna go home now, anyway?”

“What are you going to do when you do want to go? You’re drunk. You can’t drive.” Frustration filled her. She reached out for him, but he pushed her back. His drink spilled over the front of her coat, and he stumbled.

Wood steadied her and caught Charlie up by the scruff of his neck in one fell swoop.

“Lemme go,” he groused.

Wood ignored Charlie and looked at her. He still held her arm. “You okay?”

She nodded, swiping at the liquid. Now this coat would need cleaning, too.

“Lemme go, I said! Who are you, anyway? Sure in hell couldn’t be a friend of Had’s. She’s buttoned down tighter ’n a nun. Doesn’t even know how to kiss a man, much less spread her legs—”

Wood grabbed Charlie’s arm and leaned forward, speaking softly in the man’s ear.

Charlie’s mouth dropped. “Mind your own damned business.” He shoved out at Wood, as if to hit him, but Wood easily sidestepped it, and Charlie tumbled forward, knocking into the table before him, scattering the occupants and sending glasses flying. He scrambled to his feet and launched himself at Wood.

Hadley cried out. “Stop it!”

But Wood did something fancy when he caught Charlie, halting the other man in his tracks.

He tried shrugging off Wood’s grip and failed. “You pushed me!”

“I should have decked you,” Wood said cuttingly, “instead of letting you fall on your face. You offended your sister-in-law. We’re going now.” He began marching Charlie toward the entrance, weaving around tables and customers without hesitation.

Hadley had a fleeting thought that Charlie would have been better off tangling with Shane’s temper than Wood’s. She eyed the people from the splintered table, offering a hurried apology as she watched Wood and her brother-in-law progress through the tavern. Wood’s only hesitation was to stop and speak briefly to a blond cocktail waitress who was watching them all with a surprised expression. At the door, Wood looked back, clearly seeking out Hadley, and she hurried after them.

Outside, Charlie’s attitude subsided considerably and he handed over his keys to Hadley without a quibble, making her wonder just what Wood had said to him. She half expected some comment from Wood when she got behind the wheel of the slightly battered SUV, but he didn’t speak at all except to tell Charlie to shut up when he started complaining about Hadley driving his precious truck.

Lurching only slightly with the unfamiliar vehicle, she drove out of the parking lot and headed toward Evie and Charlie’s home. When they arrived, Evie came out of the small house, a blanket wrapped tightly around her.

She took one look at Charlie and her expression went tight. Then she glared at Hadley, as if it were all her fault. “I’ll have to get the truck from you tomorrow,” was all she said before she hustled her husband inside and slammed the door shut.

Hadley sank back against the side of the SUV. “Well. That went well. I should have just left Charlie alone.” She looked over at Wood. He was eyeing the small house, no particular expression on his face at all. “Why’d you have to go and make him mad like that? He’ll probably try to sue you or something.” It’d be just like Charlie. Always trying to make a quick buck that didn’t involve an honest day’s work.

Wood spread his fingers, looking at his hand, as if he were wishing he’d punched Charlie just as he’d said. “He’s put the moves on you before?”

She opened her mouth to deny it. “It was a long time ago,” she dismissed. He and Evie hadn’t been married too long. “And nothing happened, believe me.”

“How long ago?”

She glanced nervously at the brick house, but the door was shut tight, the drapes drawn in the windows. “I don’t know. I was sixteen I think. I don’t know why I even admitted it to you. Nobody else knows about it, so I’d appreciate you not saying anything to—”

“Did he hurt you?” His hand curled.

“Lord, no. And he didn’t try again.” It was humiliating even recalling the event. “Not that he’d want to. You heard him. He doesn’t find me appealing at all, fortunately.” She raked her fingers through her hair. “You know there’s only one man in town who does find me appealing. And fighting that doesn’t seem to do anything but cause problems. My accident with you. Going out together tonight.” She pulled open the truck door and climbed in again.

After a moment Wood rounded the vehicle and got in, as well. She started the engine, but didn’t put it into gear. She sighed after a moment. “Would you prefer to drive?”

“Yes. But I’ll live with the disappointment.”

She exhaled on a bewildered laugh at his dry assurance. “I don’t understand you at all.”

“Is your sister happy with him?”

Under any other circumstances, Hadley would have choked before she’d discuss family business with a stranger. But, even after such a short time, she couldn’t view Wood Tolliver as a stranger.

If that made her foolish, so be it.

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “She used to be. They were college sweethearts. But Evie doesn’t share much these days. All I know is that she hasn’t seemed happy about a lot of things for a while now.” She shook her head. “Trying to talk to her hasn’t done much good. She’s always busy with the kids, or trying to fix something around that house, or telling me how I should be running Tiff’s. I haven’t seen her smile in a long time, and she has a beautiful smile. Her birthday is next week, and it just seems a sin that she’ll be celebrating another year without that smile on her face. She isn’t even having a party or anything. Says she’s too tired and busy.”

“Throw one for her. Just lose Charlie’s invitation.”

“If only.” Hadley finally put the truck into gear. The vehicle rocked and jolted over the rutted drive before she turned onto the smoother, paved road. But Wood had a point. Maybe a surprise for Evie—one where she didn’t have to do a single thing but sit back and enjoy—would be good for her. They could probably use the fellowship hall at her dad’s church. Hadley would have to enlist Charlie’s help in getting Evie there.

The parking lot outside of the Tipped Barrel was still clogged with cars when they passed. “What did you tell the cocktail waitress when we were leaving?”

He looked a little surprised that she asked. “How to reach me if Beckett doesn’t pay any damages for tonight’s episode.”

She gave him a quick look. “Why?”

“I pushed him,” was all he said.

She absorbed that as she drove the rest of the way through the quiet town. She made a U-turn on the street to park in front of Tiff’s, and winced a little when one of the wheels bumped up over the curb and then back down again. So much for impressing the man.

The evening was officially a total bust.

She turned off the engine and climbed out, joining Wood on the sidewalk. He took her arm as they walked toward the house. Probably because he was afraid she’d fall on her face or something.

The front door was unlocked, as it always was, and she pushed it open. But Wood didn’t release her arm right away when they entered, and she looked up at him. The porch lights behind him set off auburn glints in his hair. “Something wrong? Other than a genuinely unpleasant evening, I mean?”

He pushed the door shut until it latched softly. “Don’t go back to the Tipped Barrel,” he said. “The place is a complete dive.” Then he lowered his head and pressed his mouth to hers.

She went stock-still. Shock, surprise, amazement. All three whisked through her with lightning speed. Then his hands—cool against her skin—cradled her face. Heat, want followed.

A soft sound rose in her throat and she leaned into him, nothing else existing but the feel of his lips softly caressing hers. “Wood—”

He broke the kiss with a soft oath. “For the record, Wendell Pierce isn’t the only one to find you appealing.” Then he stepped back from her. “Good night, Hadley.”

Thank heavens for the wall behind her. It held her up. “Good night, Wood.”

But he probably hadn’t heard her shaking response. He’d already disappeared down the hallway.

Chapter Five

“Heard there was something of a ruckus last night at the Tipped Barrel.”

Dane looked up from the bumper he was removing from the Shelby. Shane Golightly stood in the sunlight streaming through the open bay of Stu’s garage. “So?”

Shane’s jaw cocked to one side. He looked over his shoulder to where Stu had his head under the hood of Hadley’s pickup, then walked closer, ostensibly studying the Shelby up on the rack. “Why are you still in Lucius?”

Dane pulled off the safety goggles Stu had loaned him, letting them hang loose around his neck. “You treat all visitors to such a welcome? No wonder this town is no bigger than my thumb. Chamber of Commerce must love you.” He jerked his head toward the window between the office and the service bays. “Your sister is in there, talking to Riva.”

“Stay away from her.”

“I’ve never been one to follow other people’s orders.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Shane kept his voice low. “It may suit me, for the moment, not to run you out of town, but don’t expect that to last. Hadley doesn’t need someone like you messing in her life.”

“Maybe she doesn’t need her brothers messing in her life, either. Ever thought your attention might be better focused on Evie?” As far as Dane was concerned, it was the blond-haired sister who needed some intervention in her life, not the thoroughly engaging Hadley.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dane donned the goggles again and picked up the crowbar. “Ask Hadley. I’m just a guy trying to get his car fixed.” He knew Evie had retrieved the SUV early that morning, because he’d overheard the sharp words the woman exchanged with her sister and had barely contained his urge to interrupt them and defend Hadley since Hadley didn’t seem to do much of it on her own.

The sheriff snorted. “Yeah, and I wear a pink tutu on Friday afternoons.”

“Whatever floats your boat, Sheriff.” Dane attacked the mangled bumper again.

Shane leaned in a little closer. “Just a warning here, Tolliver. You’re hiding something and we both know it. If you hurt my sister, you’ll regret it, I promise you.” Then he straightened and headed around the car toward the cramped office.

Dane finally found purchase with the crowbar, and the bumper peeled away with a screech. He dropped the crowbar and caught the ruined bumper and dumped it to one side.

The god-awful racket he created felt curiously satisfying.

He pulled off the work gloves and goggles and left them on the workbench. He lifted a hand in a wave to Hadley, who was watching him through the office window, and told Stu he’d check back later on the car’s progress.

Stu nodded. He’d already agreed to get Hadley’s truck fixed before putting his attention to the Shelby with the provision that Wood loan some of his elbow grease to the autobody repairs. Lord knew Stu didn’t want him having any reason to be in Lucius a minute longer than necessary.

With the Golightlys seemingly occupied, Dane returned to his room at Tiff’s where he spent a few solid hours on the phone with his assistant, Laura. It didn’t matter that it was a Saturday. Most weeks they worked seven days straight. What was inconvenient, though, was dealing with business without aid of a fax or computer or anything other than his cell phone and his own notes spread across the foot of the bed. But they managed to keep the necessities under control. And dictating letters was pretty much the same regardless of the setting.

“Oh. One more thing.” He told her about his conversation with Mandy Manning at the Tipped Barrel.

“Be sure and wire her the funds today to cover the damages,” he said when she finally started winding down. “And don’t send enough that someone accuses anyone of bribery,” he muttered. A soft knock on his bedroom door interrupted the annoyingly fresh memory of Shane Golightly’s accusation of bribery. He ended his call and pulled open the door.

Hadley stood on the other side, her arms filled with linens. “Hi.”

He’d done no more than wave hello and goodbye at Stu’s garage, and had deliberately gone to the Luscious Lucius for breakfast in order to avoid her.

Not exactly chivalrous behavior, nor adult. But kissing her the night before hadn’t been the smartest thing he’d ever done, either. One of the most pleasurable? Yes. Smart? No.

“What’s all that?” He gestured to her burden.

“Emergency candles and clean linens. And an extra blanket for your bed. The temperature’s supposed to drop again in the next day or two.” She didn’t quite meet his eyes as she looked past him into the room. “If it’s not an inconvenient time, I’ll get you all set up.”

He knew there was no way she could see the contents of his notes spread on the bed from where she stood, or the engraved Rutherford Industries logo topping them. But he didn’t intend to chance a closer look from her, either.

“I won’t get cold.” Particularly not now, knowing that her lips tasted sweeter than they looked. Or knowing that she slept as close as the other side of a wall. That when she’d risen that morning, he’d listened to the sound of water running in the old-fashioned bathroom tucked between them and had cursed his imagination that had never before plagued him with such painful vividness.