Sara Orwig - One Texas Night...

“We’re going to forget my brother. I’m of age, and I can take care of myself.”

He should have heeded that challenge and kept her brother in his thoughts. Instead, he wiped Sloan clean out of his mind. Even the undercurrent of guilt swiftly washed away.

A fast number played next, and as they danced, she shed the tiny blue jacket, revealing a tight spaghetti-strapped dress that took his breath away. He wanted to unfasten her updo, and impulsively he reached out and removed the pins. A cascade of pale yellow-gold hair fell over her shoulders, and his heart raced with excitement.

As she danced, her sexy moves fueled his fiery attraction. Whatever he felt, she gave indications she shared the same sizzle.

They continued into the next dance—a ballad—and he drew her closer this time. Her silky hair held a faint, inviting scent of jasmine and orange blossoms.

Slow dancing became a torment. Soft, warm, curvaceous in his arms, she fit perfectly against him. Her full lips made him want to kiss her. How would she taste? How would she respond?

During a break between dances, they sat on the darkened terrace, drinking champagne while they flirted with each other. How much of the night had been because of the effects of the champagne? He wished he could blame it all on the bubbly, but he knew he couldn’t. A hot, intense attraction had flared the first moment they had looked into each other’s eyes.

It was one o’clock in the morning when she said she should leave the reception and get back to her hotel room. He took her to her hotel, and they stopped in the bar for a drink. Within minutes they were headed to her room. The moment he closed her door, he reached for her, drawing her into his embrace while he leaned down to kiss her.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she returned the electrifying kiss, which fanned desire to a blazing intensity. He had only planned on having a nightcap and then kissing her good-night, but his sensible plans were forgotten instantly. Instead, white-hot passion consumed him. She was as eager as he was. He wanted her as he had never wanted anyone before. Able to fight no longer, he surrendered.

Naked. Passionate. A virgin. All of those described the woman he took to bed. That she was innocent shocked him, briefly cooling his ardor, making him pause in their lovemaking. But then she wrapped those enticing legs around him and whispered a sigh in his ear and he was lost. He could never say no to her. So he made love to her, discovering a passionate woman and an ardent partner, whom he knew he’d never forget.

Later they showered together and made love again. The second time he took it slowly, with more than an hour of foreplay, trying to make it as great for her as possible by dedicating himself to pleasuring her.

She was like a flame, igniting his passion, burning it, until it finally devoured him, leaving him spent.

With the light of day, however, came reason.

They knew they could not see each other again because there was no future in it. Allison had college to get through. He had a career that was commencing, and they both had Sloan to contend with—a friend Jared did not want to hurt and a brother she wanted to keep happy.

So they agreed the night—the wonderful searing night—would be their secret.

He gave her a sweet, fleeting kiss goodbye at the door of her hotel room...and walked away....

* * *

Jared inhaled deeply. Wiping his brow as if to erase the memories that had haunted him for six years, he shoved away from his desk, the iPad notes long forgotten. With little provocation, he remembered that night with Allison as if it had happened yesterday. And he remembered her still.

They had never had contact again. Through the years, each of them had guarded the secret, kept their promises to never contact each other. He had seen her brother often at charity events, college football games, rodeos, occasional meetings if their businesses crossed paths and more recently in a breakfast club. But never in those encounters had he said a word to Sloan about Allison.

The last time he had seen Sloan, her brother had casually mentioned that she was thinking about marrying some guy. The news gave Jared a peculiar stab of pain that he shook off as ridiculous. She meant nothing to him. He had merely shared one night of passion with her. A night that was buried in silence, although never really forgotten.

Right now he could recall the entire night, moment by moment. His memory was flawless, he was sure, of making love to her, her passionate responses, her softness, her enthusiasm.

Jared walked to the window to look out at the sprawling city of Dallas as seen from the top floor of the Weston Energy building. Two flags in the distance fluttered in the March breeze. He wished it could blow away his memories just as easily.

But as he recalled the decision he’d made only days earlier, he knew there was no chance he’d be forgetting about Allison anytime soon.

He had just hired Tyler Antiques and Appraisals for a job he needed done and learned it would be Allison who would be doing his appraisal. In days the lover he’d never forgotten would be back in his life.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, composed, professional and looking slick in a custom suit, Jared walked into a downtown restaurant for a business lunch. He watched the youngest, tallest and the last unmarried Delaney approach their table from the opposite direction. He greeted Ryan, shaking hands with his friend, gazing at friendly dark brown eyes and an infectious smile.

“How’s everything in Dallas?” Ryan asked.

“Everything is fine. How are your brothers?”

“Great. Will is being Will, still taking charge of the rest of the family. His wife is fine, and Caroline is crazy about her little brother.”

“And your world-traveler brother? How does marriage suit him?”

Ryan grinned. “You won’t know Zach. He’s a desk jockey now. Goes to the office nine to five. He’s retired from fieldwork and stays in the office. Very domestic. Phoebe is almost nine months old. She’s a cutie.”

“I can’t imagine Zach sticking to an office. That’s beyond me. I asked you to lunch so I could talk about my inheritance of the Delaney mansion in Houston.”

“Talk away,” Ryan said, sitting and picking up a menu.

As soon as they had ordered and the waiter disappeared, Jared leaned forward. “Ryan, it’s your inheritance from your dad.”

“I know that technically it’s my inheritance, but it’s because of our dads’ friendship.”

“Friendship and gratitude for the time our dads were both roughnecks, working in the oil patch. When that fire broke out on a rig, your dad saved my dad’s life. The mansion is just a thank-you.”

“I had nothing to do with any of that.”

“Dad had it in his will that, if your dad is deceased, the mansion is to go to you. It’s yours to do with as you please.”

“One of the Tylers commences cataloging the contents of the mansion this week. Have any of you changed your mind about the mansion or its contents?”

“Absolutely not. I asked my brothers again, just for you, and they gave me the same answer. We don’t want any part of the mansion. We never spent time there, and it’s meaningless to all of us. Stop worrying about it. The mansion doesn’t hold fond memories for any of us.” Ryan reclined back in his chair, looking fully relaxed and filled with his usual self-confidence. “We inherited enough from Dad, and we’re happy you have the mansion.”

“It’s a marvelous inheritance and I appreciate it.”

“On the phone you said you’d hired Herman Tyler to do the appraisal. You have your own appraisal company now in addition to owning Weston Energy. Why hire Herman?”

“He’s the best. I still have an offer to buy his business, merge it with mine and let him run his part, but he wants to keep it. Actually, I bought my appraisal company to try to entice Herman to run both and work for me, but he won’t sell. I keep the offer open. Ryan, as far as the house and antiques are concerned, what about Sophia?” Ryan’s half-sister was an artist. “I’d think she’d want some of the paintings.”