Linda Warren - Texas Heir

Colter had character ingrained into his bones and he deserved Richard’s respect. He’d devoted his life to Ellie when he’d thought Marisa hadn’t wanted her. There wasn’t a better father on this earth.

Richard frowned. “What?”

“You didn’t mention Colter.”

“Just an oversight,” Richard said nonchalantly. “Colter is part of our family.”

“Good. Just remember that.”

“Son—”

“I’ll talk to Mother when I get back.” He cut off his father because he didn’t want to rehash an old issue. He just wanted Richard to know he wouldn’t tolerate leaving Colter out of anything. Neither would Marisa.

“Okay.” Richard inclined his head. “Who’s going with you on this trip?”

Reed knew his father was aware of everything he did. Richard had his sources—or spies—and Reed hadn’t ferreted out the informant who told his father of his every move. He didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about it because he had nothing to hide, but it irked him that Richard still had his finger on the pulse of this company. That implied Richard didn’t trust him.

“Cari,” he replied, watching his father’s face, “I told Fletcher we’d take the small Learjet just in case you needed the bigger plane.”

“Thanks, but we don’t have any plans that I’m aware of. With your mother, though, that could change at a moment’s notice.” Richard rubbed his jaw in thought, his expression closed. “Ms. Michaels travels with you a great deal. Is that going to bother Daphne?”

There was that tone again. “No,” Reed answered. “Just like it’s not going to bother her when I travel with Monica.”

“Monica’s in her fifties.”

Reed gritted his teeth, an old habit from his teen years when Richard tried to control his every move. “What are you getting at?”

“Ms. Michaels is a very attractive young woman.”

“Yes, so?”

Richard shrugged and Reed didn’t miss that look in his eyes. He’d seen it many times before.

“Ah.” The light switch finally flipped on in his brain. “You’re afraid I might have a romantic interest in Cari. That’s why you’re so happy. I chose the right woman—for a Preston.”

The bar of acceptance was set high—only the very elite and wealthy were considered suitable partners for the Preston children. It was one of the reasons Reed had avoided marriage. He wouldn’t subject a woman to that. But he’d gotten lucky with Daphne.

“Now, Reed, I didn’t say that. You’re very touchy today.”

“Maybe I am,” he conceded.

“Ms. Michaels holds a very important job in this company—a job she does very well. Her work ethic is exemplary and that’s why I didn’t object when you said you were promoting her to vice president when Frank retired. Besides, she’s your sister’s friend and she attends a lot of family functions.”

“But she’s not up to Richard Preston’s standards for a wife for his son. Just like Colter wasn’t an acceptable husband for Marisa.” Reed tried to keep the anger out of his voice and failed.

“Son, you’re getting angry for no reason.”

“Yeah.” Reed massaged the knot at the back of his neck. “But don’t sugarcoat your feelings for my sake. You don’t like Cari. It’s very big of you to accept her for Marisa’s benefit.”

Richard stiffened. “I worked very hard to get where I am today. Is it a crime to want the best for my children?”

Reed’s eyes didn’t waver from Richard’s and he could feel that old tension building inside him. “Yes, it’s a crime when you use underhanded tactics and manipulation to achieve what you think is best for your children. Why don’t you let them make their own decisions?”

“I do,” Richard told him. “You and Marisa both know I’m the type of man who likes to be in control. But I’ve learned my lesson with Marisa. I’m not manipulating your lives anymore.”

Reed jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “We both appreciate that.”

“But it doesn’t stop me from being happy when you make good choices.” His father’s eyes gleamed and Reed realized not for the first time that Richard was a formidable opponent and an aggressive parent.

Before Reed could respond, Richard glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to run.” He walked to the door in his quick easy strides. “Do you and Daphne have plans for the weekend?”

“We’re visiting her parents at their lake house in Austin.”

“Don’t forget to call your mother about the party.”

“I won’t,” Reed responded to an empty doorway.

He walked over and closed the door, resisting the urge to slam it. Something about making his father so happy left a bad taste in his mouth.

But he’d get over it.

CARI MADE THE LIMO on time. She handed the driver her bag and slid onto the plush leather seat across from Reed.

“Glad you found shoes,” he remarked, staring at her heels with a lift of his brow.

“It helps working for a department store and having everything at my disposal.” She crossed her legs and scooted farther over. Reed’s legs were so long that she didn’t want to bump his knees. His dark gaze made the space between them seem that much smaller.

“Mmm.” He rubbed his chin and against her will she watched his strong lean fingers stroke his rough male skin. A hint of his cologne, sort of a musk mingled with leather, wafted to her, and a wave of pleasure rippled in her stomach.

“Any ill effects from the fall?”

For a moment she didn’t even catch the question, but she recovered quickly. She placed her Chanel bag, a gift from Dalton’s, beside her on the seat for something to do. “No. By midmorning my aches and pains were gone. But my pride is still bruised, and you can bet someone is going to answer for that defective heel.”

“And if you have your way, that brand of shoe won’t be carried in Dalton’s anymore?”

“You got it. I have George looking into it and I’ll have all the details on your desk Monday morning.”

Reed kept staring at her, and she wondered if her lipstick was smeared. She resisted the urge to grab her compact.

“What?”

He leaned forward. “Do you know your eyes glow when you’re passionate about something?”

“Is there smoke coming out of my ears, too?” She had to be flippant or she was going to lose what little control she had.

Reed laughed—a deep throaty sound that felt as exhilarating as sliding her dad’s old truck’s stick shift into third gear. As a teenager she knew she was off for the ride of her life. As an adult, Reed’s laugh gave her a glimpse of a ride she was never going to experience.

She stared out the window as the car whipped through traffic. Soon the driver turned into the entrance for Love Field where the Dalton jets were housed. Everything was arranged so there was no waiting. Within minutes they boarded the plane. Fletcher and Melody, the pilots, welcomed them aboard.

Cari had made many company trips. Two pilots were required to fly the plane, even the smaller Learjet. Melody was the only female copilot who worked for Dalton’s, and Cari admired her venture into mostly a man’s profession. The interior of the plane was lavish, with ebony wood and Italian leather, made to cater to the very rich. It had been decorated and customized per Richard Preston’s request. Cari always felt a little out of place when she stepped onto the lush wool carpet of the living–room style cabin.

She eased onto a small sofa, placed her purse and briefcase beside her and buckled up for takeoff. Reed spoke to Fletcher and took a tan captain’s chair across from her. The plane could easily seat six people.

“We’re ready to go,” Reed said, adjusting his seat belt.

Soon they were taxiing down the runway and the jet lifted from the tarmac with a smoothness that still left butterflies in her stomach. Her fear of heights always made her stomach knot with tension, but she generally managed to control it. Up, up they went into the fluffy white clouds, leaving Dallas behind.