AlTonya Washington - His Texas Touch

“Oh.” She left him with the simple reply and then walked on into the condo.

“You want to tell me what the devil is wrong with you?” He slammed the door, grimacing then at her thoroughly dazed demeanor.

The harsh sound of the closing door was another effective method of jarring Avra from her heavy thoughts. It did nothing to improve her attitude toward Sam’s presence in her house, unfortunately.

“Why the hell are you so interested?”

Her snappish tone did nothing to dissuade him. One wide shoulder rose in a barely there shrug beneath the knit sandstone shirt that complemented his copper skin. “When you get quiet, I get suspicious.”

“Well, don’t you worry, Sam. You won’t hear a peep out of me over the campaign.”

“Hell, Avra, you know I’m not here for that.”

“Then what are you here for, Sam?”

His lips parted again on the verge of response. Admirably, he caught himself before telling her the truth.

“What happened tonight—Arroyo dead after going after my sister. Do you think it’s over?”

Her almond-shaped brown eyes narrowing, Avra regarded the man filling her living room with a mix of curiosity and something else unidentifiable. “No,” she admitted simply. Turning to face him more fully, she folded her arms across the front of the gold-tone backless silk number she’d worn for the engagement party.

“I think Carson Arroyo Holloway was a scapegoat,” she said, referring to John Holloway’s son. John Holloway was a former Melendez employee who died under suspicious circumstances.

“Why?” Sam breathed, selecting that moment to move farther into the room.

Her gaze wavered. “Something that his mother said to me,” she muttered and then shook her head. “It’s crazy anyway—the woman was probably just trying to get me out of her house.”

“Humph. I can’t imagine why…”

Avra pursed her lips for a few seconds. “And I wish you’d do the same.” Gathering the chic folds of her dress, she made a move for the door.

“Hey?” Sam’s voice was hushed then. He caught her arm, covered by the tight sleeve of the frock that hugged her willowy form. “I’m sorry,” he said, dropping her arm after giving it a slight squeeze. “Talk to me, please.”

For Avra just then, talking or even breathing, for that matter, was impossible. Subtly, she massaged her arm, hoping that he hadn’t noticed how his touch had affected her.

Sam kept all emotion out of his expression. Of course he had noticed her reaction.

Coolly, Avra left his side.

“I really need for you to tell me what you think about this. Will you do that?” His very deep voice was most coaxing in its softness.

Silently, Avra admitted that she needed the venting outlet. “When Khouri made the connections between Carson Arroyo and John Holloway, I went to see Holloway’s widow, Vita Arroyo. She told me to check Wade’s notes.” Hugging herself, Avra walked the room. “According to her, they contained information—truths absent from his final story on her husband’s death.”

Sam walked the room as well, thinking. “Did you find anything?”

“Yeah.” Avra’s words carried on a light laugh. “I’ve been through the stuff four times already. Only problem is, none of it makes sense.”

“You sure you’ve got it all? All of his notes?”

“Positive.” She slapped her hands to her sides. “Wade used to joke that he spent more time at the office than at home. He tended to keep his most important stuff at Ross. Besides, we’d have heard about it if the police found something after Wade…died.”

Regardless, Sam made a mental note to ask Chief of Detectives Bradley Crest to confirm that. He studied Avra more closely then. She looked dead on her feet, but he knew she’d admit to no weakness—not in his presence anyway.

“Maybe that’s all there is.” He took the other side of the argument then. “Maybe the whole thing really does end with Arroyo.”

Avra was already shaking her head in disagreement.

“Why the hell not?” Sam harbored the same dismal prediction as Avra but wanted to hear her thoughts.

“Carson went to Setha not just because she was your dad’s prize but because she was listening to him. This was about his father’s pride and his mother’s dignity. That’s what he told her.” Again, Avra began to nudge her chin with her thumbnail. “He wanted her to know something so why didn’t he just tell her…?” She sighed the words almost to herself.

“Because he was an idiot?” Sam suggested.

Avra made a face, but she couldn’t completely dismiss the idea. “Dammit,” she groaned, dropping to the gray suede settee in the corner.

Sam watched her cover her face with her hands. The last thing he wanted was to leave but it was the only thing to do. They rarely went long without breaking into full argument. Their current chat had already lasted fifteen minutes—well beyond the limit.

Avra raised her head when she heard him move. “You’re leaving?” She pressed her lips together, instantly regretting the question.

“You’re beat.” He eased a hand into a trouser pocket. “It’s been a long night. You should be goin’ to bed anyway.”

Avra straightened, holding her hands clasped primly in her lap. “I’m surprised you’re not making a move or comment about joining me there.”

Go, Sam, he silently urged himself but couldn’t resist the opportunity to spar with her just a little longer. “Don’t worry.” He walked over to lean against the settee where she relaxed. “You’ll have me there,” he promised.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re a jackass.”

“And you’re the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen.” He could’ve laughed when stunned amazement crossed her coffee-brown face. Never had he complimented her so seriously without the teasing element that usually accompanied his words. Slowly, he leaned in, caressing her oval face with nothing more than the strength of his pitch stare.

“I’d like very much to have you in my bed…” He cast a cool, meaningful look over the chair she occupied. “Or anywhere else.”

She swallowed. Her wide eyes were riveted on his alluring face. “Would you leave me alone, then?”

Rising to his towering height, he offered a casual shrug. “Depends on how good you are.”

Don’t hit him, she told herself and almost broke the skin in her palms when she drew fists.

“Night, Av.” He brushed his knuckles across her jaw and then walked out the door.

Chapter 1

“You’re crazy if you think I’m just gonna let you drive home after you almost fainted right here in front of me and Brad.” Samson’s face was a picture of exasperation.

Danilo Melendez, owner of the auto-parts-and-

accessories giant Machine Melendez, spat a curse in his native tongue. “Bradley saw no need to call the paramedics before he left. You, however, are acting like a mother hen and I’m fine!”

“Pop, you almost—”

“I’m fine.”

Raising both hands in a defensive gesture, Sam stifled his reference to his father’s reaction. “Maybe you’d like to tell me what’s so special about Martino Viejo?”

Dan’s expression appeared vicious as he observed his eldest son. “Have you no respect for the dead?”

“Pop, you know that’s not—”

“I won’t have you question my concern for another human being—an employee at that. Am I understood?”

Sam looked down at the invisible pattern he traced into the top of his pine desk. “Who was he, Pop?” Sam rolled his eyes as Danilo began to rattle off a profile that he himself could have gotten from the Melendez HR department.

Following the brief rundown into Martino Viejo’s career with Machine Melendez, Dan bade his son a good-afternoon and made a hasty departure from the ranch. Sam made no argument and simply placed a call to the home of his assistant, June Elliott.