One Texas Night...

Allison Tyler studied the small figurine in her hand, turning it to look at the initials and number on the underside. With her phone she took a picture that went first to her dad and then to her iPad. She made brief notes on her tablet. She was interested in getting a picture inventory, whatever descriptions she felt she needed and sending them on to her dad to do the research about each piece.

She’d battled mixed feelings since the first call to her father from Jared. The Delaney mansion Jared had inherited and wanted to sell was supposed to be filled with antiques and valuable art. It was a great job for them, just as it had been for her dad to work directly with him before. Jared had a hobby of deep-sea salvaging and twice had hired her father to go over items he had brought up from a find in the Gulf off the Alabama coast.

Jared. She couldn’t stop thinking about him.

He’d been a constant companion of her brother’s throughout their school years, but he’d been of little interest to Allison. Until six years ago when he had bumped into her at the wedding reception, and she’d felt as if a lightning bolt had struck her. He was incredibly handsome, sexy, appealing. She couldn’t resist flirting with him. He’d set her heart pounding, and within the next hours, she’d decided he was the most exciting man she had ever met.

The night had been magical. Her brother had once told her that he didn’t want his best friend around her. Though Jared was a great friend to Sloan, where women were concerned, Jared was totally unreliable. Sloan had described him as a playboy, a man who lived life on the edge, who liked mountain climbing, bull riding, white-water rafting, wild adventures and beautiful women.

At eighteen, when she had looked into Jared’s vivid green eyes, she had been as drawn to him as a moth to flames. Exuding self-confidence, he had flirted, made her pulse race, and when he had kissed her, she had melted. No other kisses had been like his.

But the next morning, along with daylight, common sense set in. She couldn’t get involved with a heartbreaker like Jared. She was just a college freshman. Her life was simple, safe and ordinary, and she wanted to keep it that way. Jared, on the other hand, was a risk taker. She never again wanted to go through getting the news that someone she loved deeply had been killed taking a risk. Like her mother, who had flown her small plane through a Gulf storm, killing herself and Chad in the crash. Allison never wanted to experience that kind of needless hurt again.

And there was Sloan. She suspected if Sloan knew about her night with Jared, it would end their long, close friendship. All she could do, then, was get Jared to agree they would not see each other again and the night had never happened.

She had since tried to forget him. It had been a struggle to forget someone as dynamic as Jared Weston. That night she had tossed her usual caution aside because he had been too handsome, too appealing, too exciting.

Now she was older and wiser, and she still felt Jared was a man to avoid. Currently she felt responsible for her dad, and she didn’t want to cause him worry. In addition she had a running undercurrent of anger. Jared had tried to buy Tyler Antiques and Appraisals after her dad’s heart attack. When her dad had refused to sell, Jared had bought another appraisal company and then approached her dad once more, wanting to merge the two, leaving her dad in charge of his part. Her dad loved his business that he had built, and he did not want to sell. Jared had said the offer would remain on the table. Her father never mentioned it again, and she hoped Jared was not now attempting to get their company.

In minutes, she forgot business when her thoughts returned to that night with Jared. How tempting would he be to her now? She suspected very tempting, because she had never been able to forget him. How appealing he was would not matter. He was still off-limits. Sloan had already told her that Jared was about to become engaged. That should keep distance between them.

She had arrived the previous day at the sprawling mansion in Houston. With very little landscaping, the gray three-story Gothic had a cold palatial appearance with medieval turrets, parapets and arched windows, and she could see why Jared intended to sell it. She couldn’t imagine living in a home the size of the mansion, much less one so forbidding in appearance.

Jared had not arrived yet, and the housekeeper, Mrs. Tarkington, as well as the cook, who introduced herself only as Marline, were uncertain about exactly when he would arrive. Allison did not need Jared present to start an inventory of the art and furnishings. All she felt was relief that he was not here. By noon the first day, she had inventoried and tagged six rooms of furniture, sending brief descriptions and pictures to her father. She’d begun with the bedrooms so that they’d be done and she wouldn’t have to deal with Jared in a bedroom—even if they were only remotely polite to each other. But she still had more bedrooms to complete, even after this one.

She paused in front of an ornate gilt-framed mirror to look at her image. It had been six years since she had seen Jared. How much would he think she had changed? How well did he remember that night? In six years she was certain it had been over and forgotten long ago for him. She took a critical study of her appearance: black slacks, a black cotton shirt, her hair secured on her head with a clip. Several blond tendrils had fallen around her face. She tucked them away and continued her inventory of antiques, moving to an upstairs sitting room.

In minutes a light knocking caught her attention and she turned. Looking as commanding and self-assured as she remembered, Jared stood in the doorway, leaning with one shoulder against the jamb. Her heart missed several beats as he smiled. Locks of wavy black hair framed his face. His spellbinding green eyes had not been an exaggeration of her memory. Six years ceased to exist. It could have been this past Saturday night that they had been together as far as her clarity of memory was concerned. A heart-pounding, unforgettable night of seduction. She thought her memories of him had dimmed, but she had simply fooled herself.

Her pulse raced and her physical reaction to him was far more intense than she had expected. Something she couldn’t keep from happening. Dressed in a navy suit and matching tie and Western boots, he was breathtaking. She had a flashback, an instant memory of being naked in his arms, flush against his hard, muscled body.

“So how’s it been for six years?” he asked, coming into the room.

She was thankful he couldn’t detect her racing pulse. To her chagrin, her memory triggered heat that flushed her face. She hoped to look relaxed, to keep hidden all indications of her racing heartbeat.

“It’s been busy, and I’m sure you can say the same. It’s warm in here,” she said, in an effort to explain her cheeks that had to be pink, because she could feel their warmth.

“I agree,” he said in a huskier voice than she remembered, and she realized the next few days of working with him were going to be far more of a strain than she had anticipated.

Strain or temptation? a small inner voice taunted.

“I’ll shed this jacket,” he said, shrugging it off and draping it on a chair. His tie followed, and he unfastened the top buttons of his snow-white shirt. Her insides tightened. She could imagine him peeling away the shirt. He turned to face her again.

Reaching out, he caught her left hand and turned it in his. “I don’t see an engagement ring. Sloan said you’d be engaged.”

She laughed, relaxing slightly. “My dragon brother, who thinks he is protecting me, still sees you as the wild man. No, I’m not engaged,” she replied, catching a flicker in the depths of his green eyes. She was amused and annoyed slightly with her brother, but not surprised. Attempting to focus on their conversation, she tried to ignore the warmth of Jared’s hand, his thumb lightly brushing back and forth over her knuckles. A faint touch, yet scalding. She had all the compelling reactions to him that she’d had that first night, now more disturbing because of the hours of passion with him. “Sloan is still protective even though I’m twenty-four and capable of taking care of myself.”

“I think I’m the one Sloan is trying to manipulate here,” Jared replied. “He still wants me to keep away.”

“He said you’re almost engaged.”

Jared’s perfect white teeth flashed in a grin, while he shook his head. “Your rascal brother. No, I’m not about to become engaged. Not even close.”

“I should have guessed,” she said. She knew she should get them back to a professional discussion, but she was too tempted to flirt with him as she had that magical night. She forced herself to withdraw her hand from Jared’s. “This mansion is filled with treasures.”

“Take a break and let’s get a cool drink and talk about what I would like your company to do.”

Was there a streak of disappointment that he was also being professional? “Of course,” she said as she nodded. She would get directions, and then he could stay out of her way. She would tag the things to sell and get ready to list them in a brochure for their clients. With her father doing the research, she should be able to get a complete inventory in two to three weeks at a maximum.

“Sure. It’s better I hear the directions from you rather than from my dad secondhand.”

“You could have called me,” he said lightly, startling her for an instant until she realized he was referring to the directions.

“I figured I would see you here and could get the info. Why did you hire my dad when you have your own company now?” she asked bluntly.

“Your dad is the best. I’m happy to have my own company, and it’s good, but your dad is the best I’ve ever worked with.”

“Thank you. I think so, too,” she replied coolly, thinking about Jared’s desire to buy her father’s company. “Dad loves the business, and he intends to keep running it as long as his health holds.”

“That’s great. So what’s happened in the years between?” he asked again as they strolled down a wide hall filled with statues and oil paintings in ornate frames. The mansion was beautiful, but silent and empty of life, reminding her of a museum.

“I graduated from college, did an internship at a museum and then was hired by a different museum. After a year I went to work with Dad, and last year he had a heart attack. He was told to sell the business, something he didn’t want to do in spite of your offer. So I took over the fieldwork and let Dad stay in the office.”

“Sorry to hear all that. Your dad is good at what he does. I liked working with him.”

“It’s mutual. And so far, it’s working out well,” she said, aware of Jared close beside her as they descended the wide front stairs to the main hall. “What have you done in the intervening years?”

“More of the same—what I was doing when we met. I have Weston Energy that I took over after my dad died and a few other smaller businesses that I’ve bought. Plus I follow my interests.”

“Sorry about you losing your dad. He would be very proud of you now, because Weston Energy has become a lot larger since you took over,” she said, knowing the company had been small all the years his dad had ran it, but when Jared had stepped in at his father’s death, it had grown swiftly into a huge conglomerate. “With your dad gone, that leaves you alone, doesn’t it?”

“I have three aunts. Mom died two years before Dad. She had a heart problem. Otherwise I’m it now.”

“So you inherited this mansion from the Delaney family.”

“Yes. My father and Argus Delaney started out together as roughnecks in the oil patch. Both were successful. Dad died before Argus, but Argus already had him in his will. He was always grateful to my dad. I heard Mr. Delaney tell the story a dozen times about how my father saved his life in a well fire. This mansion was to go to my dad, but since he is deceased, it’s mine now.”

“The whole place is filled with beautiful things, very old, I imagine some very rare,” she said, following the conversation but still more conscious of him beside her, close enough she could detect a hint of his aftershave. The work would be easy once he departed, but being near him was even more disturbing than she had thought it would be.

“I don’t want them all. Some I like and will keep. As for the others—I don’t know which are valuable and which are merely nice, but of little lasting worth. That’s partially why you’re here,” he said.

“Dad and I will inventory the contents. I’m taking pictures of everything for the catalog that will show what you want to sell. You’ll see it first, of course, and you can let me know what you want to keep.”

“I have a better idea,” he said, leading her to a terrace where he motioned her to an outdoor kitchen and dining area. “I’ll go around the place with you and we can talk about what I like, what’s extremely old and valuable, that sort of thing.”

“That may make this inventory process take longer,” she said, contemplating the hazards of working constantly with him.

One dark eyebrow arched. “You can’t do that?”