Page 17 of A Fortunes of Texas Christmas (Fortunes of Texas)

Amersen’s back stiffened. There was no way she could know anything about his secondary reason for coming to Texas. The only people who knew were his parents and a couple of the Fortunes. As far as he was aware, Robin wasn’t associated with any of the Fortune family other than Kate. But perhaps he was wrong. She could certainly be acquainted with Ben Fortune Robinson or Keaton Fortune Whitfield. He’d done his own digging when Keaton had first contacted him, and it appeared that his identity had been kept a secret from the rest of the family. Even that nosy journalist Ariana Lamont, who was writing an exposé on the Fortune children, didn’t seem to know who he was—only that he existed.

“Some other reason?” he queried. “Like what?”

“Like...for instance...me?”

Relief coursed through his veins, and he took a couple of steps toward her. “Maybe.”

“Then you’re wasting your time.”

He moved closer. “Considering we’re here alone in this secluded spot, it doesn’t seem to be a complete waste.”

She got to her feet and pushed her shoulders back, which only enhanced her lovely curves. “Is this where you make your move?”

He chuckled. “Maybe. But I’m here at your invitation, remember? So my move, as you put it, is no doubt exactly what you expected.”

“Maybe.” Her blue eyes darkened as she looked him over. “But be warned that if you do, you risk a swift knee in the general direction of your junk.”

He laughed loudly. “You sure about that?”

“Positive. Try me.”

He was sorely tempted. But he also figured she wouldn’t hesitate in carrying out her threat. “You know, you’re the one who insisted we ride here, alone. If you want me to kiss you, Robin, you only have to ask.”

“I don’t want you to kiss me,” she protested weakly. “Or anything else.”

Amersen stepped closer and touched her shoulder, gently curling her toward him. He waited for her reaction, but it didn’t come. Instead, she looked at him, meeting his gaze with a mixture of fire and ice in her expression. She looked as though she wanted to slug him and jump him simultaneously. “You sure?”

She groaned disdainfully and pushed away from him. “God, you’re predictable. And I brought you here to—”

“See me fall on my ass,” he said and raised a brow. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“You still have to make it back to the ranch,” she challenged and strode back toward her horse.

“True,” he said as he followed and noticed that her cheeks were tinged with color. “Tell me something, Robin...why do you dislike me?”

She looked at him. “I don’t...that’s the problem. I just don’t like the

fact that I...”

“That you want me?” he said, finishing her words. “As I want you.”

She was breathing heavy. And she looked mad. At him. And with herself. “It’s getting late. We should get back.”

Then she was up on her horse and riding away from him without another word.

Chapter Four

Robin had always been told she had a fearful temper. And she’d never found that more accurate than when she urged Butterfly into a steady gallop and headed home. She gave the mare her head and let her stretch out, feeling some of her tension seep away as the breeze whipped her cheeks. In all her life, nothing had eased her moods like riding Butterfly. Not chocolate. Not alcohol. Not...

Not a few hours between the sheets.

And just like that, Amersen Beaudin was back in her thoughts. Again. It seemed she couldn’t get him out. She thought about the sexy Frenchman when she should have been doing a dozen other things. And it had to stop. She was so annoyed with herself. Furious that she couldn’t simply forget he existed and send him on his merry way.

She was back by the stables when she spotted Blackjack in her wake. And Amersen. Not walking. Not trotting. But heading toward them in a long, loping canter. He looked calm and comfortable in the saddle and as though he’d been doing it all his life, just as she had.

Damn. The man could ride.

He stopped barely a few feet from her and Blackjack pulled up square, head at a proud angle, clearly attuned to the rider on his back.

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