Lone Star Lovers

Standing before the mayor, was it any wonder the man had earned the hearts of the majority of Dallas’s female voters? Chase Ferguson was tall, his dark hair pushed this way and that as if it couldn’t be tamed, but the angle of his clean-shaven jaw and the lines on his dark suit showed control where it counted.

“Ms. Brand.” Hazel eyes lowered to a respectable survey of her person before Chase offered a hand. She shook it and he released her to signal to a nearby waiter. “Stefanie is around here somewhere,” he said of his younger sister. He leaned in. “And thanks to you, on her best behavior.”

The mayor straightened as a waiter approached with a tray of champagne.

“Drink?” Chase’s Texas accent had all but vanished beneath a perfected veneer, but Pen could hear the slightest drawl when he lowered his voice. “You’ll get to meet my brother tonight.”

She was embarrassed she didn’t know a thing about another Ferguson sibling. She’d only been in Texas for a year, and between juggling her new business, moving into her apartment and handling crises for the Dallas elite, she hadn’t climbed the Ferguson family tree any higher than Chase and Stefanie.

“Perfect timing,” Chase said, his eyes going over her shoulder to welcome a new arrival.

“Hey, hey, big brother.”

Now that was a drawl.

The back of her neck prickled. She recognized the voice instantly. It sent warmth pooling in her belly and lower. It stood her nipples on end. The Texas accent over her shoulder was a tad thicker than Chase’s, but not as lazy as it’d been two weeks ago. Not like it was when she’d invited him home and he’d leaned close, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

Lead the way, gorgeous.

Squaring her shoulders, Pen prayed Zach had the shortest memory ever, and turned to make his acquaintance.

Correction: re-acquaintance.

She was floored by broad shoulders outlined by a sharp black tux, longish dark blond hair smoothed away from his handsome face and the greenest eyes she’d ever seen. Zach had been gorgeous the first time she’d laid eyes on him, but his current look suited the air of control and power swirling around him.

A primal, hidden part of her wanted to lean into his solid form and rest in his capable, strong arms again. As tempting as reaching out to him was, she wouldn’t. She’d had her night with him. She was in the process of assembling a solid bedrock for her fragile, rebuilt business and she refused to let her world fall apart because of a sexy man with a dimple.

A dimple that was notably missing since he was gaping at her with shock. His poker face needed work.

“I’ll be damned,” Zach muttered. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“That makes two of us,” Pen said, and then she polished off half her champagne in one long drink.

Two (#uabe5f72d-6942-5069-a507-4b21679a60ea)

Zach schooled his expression—albeit a bit late.

Penelope Brand wore a curve-hugging white dress like the night he’d seen her at the club. He’d been there with a friend who had long since left with a woman. Zach hadn’t been looking to hook up until he spotted Pen’s upswept blond hair and the elegant line from her neck to her bare shoulders.

Seeing her hair down tonight dropkicked him two weeks into the past. Her apartment. The moment he’d tugged on the clip holding her hair back and let those luscious locks down. The way he’d speared his fingers into those silken strands, before kicking her door closed and carrying her to her bedroom.

He’d sampled her mouth before depositing her onto her bed and sampling every other part of her.

And he did mean every part.

They hadn’t discussed rules, but each had known the score—he wouldn’t call and she wouldn’t want him to—so they’d made the most of that night. She’d tasted like every debased teenage fantasy he’d ever had, and she’d delivered. He’d left that morning with a smile on his face that matched hers.

When he’d stepped into the shower at home that morning, he’d experienced a brief pinch of regret that he wouldn’t see her again.

Though, hell, maybe he would see her again given lightning had already stricken them twice. He hadn’t wanted to let her get away that night at the bar—not without testing the attraction between them.

He felt a similar pull now.

“If you’ll excuse me.” His brother Chase moved off, arm extended to shake the palm of a round-bellied man who ruled half of Texas. As one-third owner of Ferguson Oil, it was Zach’s job to know the powerful players in his brother’s life—in the entire state—but this man was unfamiliar.

“Just Zach,” Pen snapped, drawing his attention. Her blue eyes ignited. “I thought you were a contractor in Chicago.”

“I used to be.”

“And now you’re the mayor’s brother?”

“I’ve always been the mayor’s brother,” he told her with a sideways smile.

He’d also always been an oil tycoon. A brief stint of going out on his own in Chicago hadn’t changed his parentage or his inheritance. When Zach had received a call from his mother letting him know his father, Rand Ferguson, had suffered a heart attack, Zach had left Chicago and never looked back.

He wasn’t the black sheep—had never resented working for the family business. He’d simply wanted to do his own thing for a while. He had, and now he was back, and yeah, he was pretty damn good at being the head honcho of Ferguson Oil. It also let his mother breathe a sigh of relief to have Zach in charge.

Penelope’s face pinched. “Are you adopted or something?”

He chuckled. Not the first time he’d heard that. “Actually, Chase and I are twins.”

“Really?” Her nose scrunched. It was cute.

“No.”

She pursed her lips and damn if he didn’t want to experience their sweetness all over again. He hadn’t dated much over the past year, but the way Penelope smiled at him had towed him in. He hadn’t recognized her at first—the briefest of meetings at a Crane Hotel function three years ago hadn’t cemented her in his mind—but there was a pull there he couldn’t deny.

Pen finished her champagne and rested the flute on a passing waiter’s tray. With straight shoulders and the lift of one fair eyebrow, she faced Zach again. “You didn’t divulge your family status when I met you on Saturday.”

“You didn’t divulge yours.”

Her eyes coasted over his tuxedo, obviously trying to square the man before her with the slacks and button-down he’d worn to the club.

“It’s still me.” He gave her a grin, one that popped his dimple. He pointed at it while she frowned. “You liked this a few weeks ago.” He gestured to himself generally as he leaned in to murmur, “You liked a lot of this a few weeks ago.”

Miffed wasn’t a good enough word for the expression that crossed her pretty face. The attraction was still there, the lure that had existed as they came together that night in her bed twice—no, wait, three times.

Zach decided he’d end tonight with her in his bed. They’d been good together, and while he wasn’t one to make a habit of two-night stands, he’d make an exception for Penelope Brand.

Because damn.

“I’ll escort you to the dining room. You can sit with me.” He offered his arm.

Pen sighed, the action lifting her breasts and softening her features. Zach’s grin widened.

So close.

She qualified with, “Fine. But only because there are a lot of people here I would like to meet. This is a business function for me, so I’d appreciate—”