Page 30 of A Fortunes of Texas Christmas (Fortunes of Texas)

He grinned. “Not this time. I was out looking around the city this afternoon and ended up in a place called South Congress. I found it in one of the stores there.”

“SOCO is known for being a little on the quirky side,” she explained and placed the globe on the mantel. “It has some great little restaurants and places for live music. In fact, there are several good nightclubs in Austin, if that’s your thing.”

“I suppose you could say nightclubs are my thing,” he said. “Since I own one.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I read about that online. Quite a popular place you’ve got there...home away from home for celebrities.”

“I have a no-paparazzi rule between ten and midnight, so yes, some celebrities come to unwind and keep out of the way of journalists looking for a scoop. The European tabloids can be mercenary.”

“That’s why I would never want to be famous,” she said and chuckled, thinking that Amersen was probably the most famous person she’d ever met. “I’m happy to live my low-key, middle-class, small-town life in my little house with its cottage garden. Which probably makes me sound as dull as a door.”

“Nothing about you is dull.”

Robin could barely stand the intensity of his gaze, and she swallowed hard. “I should probably check on dinner. We can open that wine if you like.”

“Certainly,” he said and followed her into the kitchen.

Robin put water on to boil for the pasta, grabbed a couple of glasses from the cupboard and placed them on the countertop, then pulled the corkscrew from a drawer, handing it to him. “Is that from your winery?” she asked.

His brows rose. “You’ve done some digging.”

She half shrugged. “Type your name in a search engine and pages of stuff come up. I read a little bit here and there, including something about the winery and nightclub and how you’ve made a lot of money.”

“The money is merely the by-product, not the motivation.”

She chuckled. “I wasn’t criticizing. Although making off-the-cuff remarks about the unimportance of money does seem to be a privilege of the rich.”

He took off his jacket and draped it on the back of a chair and then uncorked the bottle and poured wine into the glasses. “Elitist.”

Robin laughed. “You’re the snob, not me. Tell me about your family.”

He came around the counter and passed her a glass, which she held in one hand while she stirred marinara sauce. “I have a younger sister, Claire, who is studying business at university. My father, Luc, is a professional equestrian and my mother, Suzette, sells real estate.”

“And you,” she added. “Handsome and successful and soon to be the face of Fortune’s next big thing.”

“We’ll see.”

She frowned. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“No,” he replied. “But nothing is ever a done deal until the deal is done. I never take opportunity for granted, although in this instance I am not entirely convinced that my image alone can sell a product in a market that is so fiercely competitive.”

Robin sipped her wine. “Kate believes in you. And so do I,” she added, then felt foolish. “Not that my opinion matters.”

“On the contrary,” he said and turned, resting his hip against the counter, so close she could feel the heat coming off him. “Since you are my only friend in Austin, your opinion does matter.”

She stopped stirring the sauce and turned, facing him, barely inches apart. “I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone’s only friend before. That’s a big responsibility.” She plonked a wad of spaghetti into the now boiling water.

His eyes glittered. “Tell me something. Just before, you said you were happy here, with your life, living here. Do you not have any interest in seeing the world?”

Robin didn’t let her gaze slide from him. “I would like to travel at some point. But although Kate is a generous employer, a landscaper’s salary doesn’t usually stretch itself to regular vacations abroad. But who knows,” she mused. “One day I might get to check a few places off my list.”

“Your list?”

“My Christmas list,” she said and shrugged. “I’ve always had this crazy idea that I’d like to spend Chri

stmas in different cities around the world. You know, like a wintry English Christmas in the Lake District...or a warm Christmas on a Sydney beach.” She laughed at herself. “It sounds silly.”

“Not at all. It sounds like...fun.”

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