Marie Ferrarella - Colton Undercover

Unfazed, Josh began to give her a thumbnail version of the bio that had been drawn up for him in the field office. “Easily taken care of. My father’s Elliott Pendergrass and he and his firm have built some of the tallest buildings in Dallas and Austin. Much to my socialite mother’s delight, my father loves finding new ways to build up the family fortune.”

Leaning in just a shade closer to Leonor, he confided in a slightly lower tone, “He’s on record as being very disappointed in me because my interests lie in a totally different field. I’m an art aficionado, and for me heaven is either spending the day prowling about the halls of an art museum, or just sitting in my den, admiring my own rather small, but if I do say so myself, modestly impressive collection. There,” he concluded, flashing a rather world-class smile at her that caused the hostess behind her to sigh just a little, “will that do?”

Leonor didn’t know whether to be amazed—or suspicious. David had done that to her, she thought angrily; he’d made her suspicious of things she would have once happily accepted at face value. He’d robbed her of her ability to be outgoing and friendly.

Still, after what this man with the incredible smile had just thrown out there, she had to ask. “You’re an art lover?”

The man who had asked to share a table with her laughed softly at her question. “I’m afraid it’s much more serious than that. It’s more like I’m obsessed with art. At least that’s the way my father puts it. He had really high hopes of getting me to follow him into the business.” The wide shoulders beneath the expensive jacket rose and fell in a careless shrug. “I’m afraid I don’t have a head for business. I do, however, know what I like, and I really like art.”

“What kind of art?” Leonor challenged. She wanted to believe this was some sort of happy cosmic coincidence, but she’d learned the hard way that she needed to be cautious. “Abstract, modern, contemporary—?”

“A little bit of everything.” When suspicion creased her brow, he confessed frankly, “I’m rather eclectic. Tell you what, why don’t we continue this conversation over lunch?” he suggested. Looking over his shoulder, Josh nodded at the person behind him. “I’m afraid there’s a line beginning to form behind us and this lovely young woman—Kathy,” he said, reading the hostess’s name tag, “is just too polite to move us along. I wouldn’t want her getting into trouble on our account. Table for two, please, Kathy.”

“Wait, I haven’t agreed to share a table with you yet,” Leonor protested, holding up her hand to the hostess to keep her from leading them into the dining area.

Josh looked at her soulfully. “Would you deny a visitor to your town a little friendly conversation over lunch?”

“How do you know I’m not a visitor, too?” Leonor wanted to know, although she had to admit that some of her resistance was fading.

Josh’s expression was nothing if not innocent. It was a look he practiced in the mirror from time to time to make sure he could still pull off.

“Are you?” he asked her.

“Not in the strictest sense, no,” Leonor was forced to admit.

Rather than challenge her ambiguous statement, Josh raised one eyebrow in a silent question as he looked at her. And then he repeated, “Table for two?”

Leonor relented. What was the harm? After all, they’d be out in the open and she was free to leave at any given moment if she wanted to. So, nodding, she looked at the hostess and echoed his words.

“Table for two.”

“Right this way,” the hostess responded, leading them into the heart of the dining room. She took them to a secluded table that was off to one side. “I thought you might prefer this.”

Leonor flashed a grateful smile at the hostess for what she assumed was the woman’s kindness. “Thank you.”

The hostess nodded in response. “Someone will be back for your order,” she told them as she placed two menus on the table before them, and then discreetly withdrew, saying, “Take your time.”

“And enjoy your lunch,” she added just before she slipped away.

“Your father really builds skyscrapers?” Leonor asked the moment the hostess had retreated back to the reservations desk.

“Dad seems to think so. I can give you the addresses of some of the larger ones, although I have to say, you don’t strike me as someone who’s interested in tall buildings—unless, of course, it’s to have your superhero boyfriend leap over them in a single bound.”

“I don’t have a superhero boyfriend,” she informed him tersely.

She was rewarded with a killer smile. “Sounds promising,” Josh told her.

“Well, it’s not,” she said, making things very clear right up front. “You said I didn’t strike you as someone who would be interested in tall buildings. Just what do I strike you as? And I warn you, I can see a line coming a mile away.”

“Good to know,” Josh responded, then said, “One won’t be coming.”

Lacing his fingers together before him, Josh leaned his chin on them as he studied her for a long moment, his brown eyes sweeping over her slowly as if he was literally taking measure of every inch of her.

Finally, he told her the conclusion he’d come to. “I’d say that you were someone who was interested in art. Passionately interested, would be my guess,” he amended.

“And just how did you arrive at this ‘guess’?” Leonor questioned.

“That’s easy,” he assured her. “By the way your pupils dilated just now when I mentioned my art collection. I definitely got your attention. Let me guess—you’re a collector yourself.”

Eventually, she wanted to be. But that wasn’t in the cards just yet. For now, she was content to soak up knowledge and experience. “Not exactly.”

Leonor paused just then as the server approached their table with a basket of bread sticks.

“Would you like to order something to drink?” the woman asked.

The idea of having something stronger than the water that was already on the table was highly appealing to Josh, but he knew he couldn’t afford to be anything but sharp right now. He looked at Leonor, waiting for her to go first.

“Just a lemonade,” she told the server.

“Make that two,” Josh said.

“You can’t like lemonade,” Leonor protested, thinking the man was just trying to be polite.

“I can’t?” Josh asked. He looked at her, puzzled. “Why not?”

“Seriously?” she questioned.

“Why? Does liking lemonade make me less of...an art collector?” Josh finally asked, although that wasn’t the first thought that came to his mind.

His question made her laugh and he silently congratulated himself on managing to peel away the first protective layer that Leonor Colton had wrapped around herself.

“Being an art collector has nothing to do with it,” she told him. “No, it’s just that I don’t know of any men who would admit to actually liking lemonade, say, over an alcoholic beverage.”

His smile was easy, engaging and almost incredibly guileless, Leonor thought as he told her, “Then consider me your first.”

Your first.

The way he said the words had her catching her breath just for a second. She had no idea why she was putting a far more sensual interpretation on them, but just for a moment, she had.

And then she forced herself to shake it off.

Collecting herself, Leonor searched for something to say. “What are you doing in Shadow Creek, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I don’t mind,” he assured her. He broke off a piece of his bread stick before saying, “I’m just taking in the sights.”

She gave him a dubious look. He was trying to pull her leg.