Page 35 of A Fortunes of Texas Christmas (Fortunes of Texas)

He wasn’t surprised. She looked delighted by the idea, and seeing her so happy did something to him inside. All day he’d had a strange feeling in the center of his chest. Sure, there was an undercurrent of attraction and desire between them—but this was something else. Something that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with the fact that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a calm, enjoyable day.

Never.

Because he’d never spent a day with anyone as intoxicating and lovely as Robin.

“Is this okay?” she asked, clearly sensing his surprise.

Amersen nodded. “Sure. Great.”

They waited in line for a few minutes to purchase tickets and were quickly ushered up to the theater. The place was old but had obviously gone through a recent renovation.

“It was going to be demolished,” she said, as though reading his thoughts. “But the local historical society fought the plans and took the developers to court, and thankfully the place was listed on the historical buildings register. They had a good lawyer,” she said and grinned. “My brother Reece does a lot of pro bono work. And he’s something of a tree hugger and wasn’t going to allow this beautiful building to be pulled down.”

The pride and admiration in her voice couldn’t be denied. He liked how close she was to her family and it made him miss his own more than he’d believed possible. But he was also torn, knowing that he would miss Robin once he returned home.

They found seats at the rear of the theater, up high and with a great view of the screen. When she shivered, he pulled off his scarf and draped it around her neck, shushing her as she protested.

“Be back in a minute,” he said with a grin.

He headed back out to the foyer, and when he returned with a hot chocolate for her and a small bag of warm doughnuts, she groaned her approval. He sat down and passed her the drink.

“I know I shouldn’t be hungry, since we’ve pretty much been grazing all day, but this was a great idea,” she said and waved a sugared doughnut. “Want a bite?”

There was innuendo and flirtation in her words, and Amersen met her seductive gaze, saying nothing.

“No?” she queried.

He chuckled. “I don’t eat sweets.”

Her eyes widened, and then she frowned. “But last night you—”

“An aberration,” he said and drank his black coffee.

She looked indignant for a moment and then laughed. “Good...more for me. Although if I keep eating at this rate, I’ll put on ten pounds before the weekend is over.”

Amersen looked straight ahead at the blank movie screen. “You have a very sexy body, Robin. Ten pounds wouldn’t change that.”

She sighed, then grabbed his hand and laid it on her thigh. “You know, you could probably read a phone book to me, and with your accent, it would be the most erotic thing I’ve ever heard.” She nibbled on the doughnut. “My friend Francesca reckons that her English husband has the sexy-accent thing going, but I don’t know. I think the French accent is more...seductive. Next time I see Francesca and Keaton, I’ll have to compare.”

Caution rose up his spine and Amersen stilled instantly. “You mean Keaton Whitfield?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I think he uses both Whitfield and Fortune now. He’s one of those illegitimate Fortunes. Seems like one pops up every now and then.”

Amersen swallowed the rising panic in his throat. His breath felt heavy in his chest, but thankfully he had an inhaler in his pocket if the need arose.

“You said you knew his wife?” he asked, his chest tight, remembering how her parents had spoken about knowing several of Gerald Robinson’s illegitimate children.

“We went to college together. We don’t hang out much now or anything because we’re both so busy, but we catch up for coffee every couple of months.” She sipped her hot chocolate. “Do you know Keaton?”

“We’ve never met,” Amersen replied, thinking it wasn’t exactly a lie. He had never met his half sibling in person. Every communication from the oth

er man or Ben Fortune Robinson had been via email—until the note he’d left at the hotel the other night. Perhaps Robin had mentioned to Whitfield’s wife that Amersen was in town... Whatever the circumstance, it was all seeming a little too close for comfort.

The movie credits started, and Amersen heaved a relieved sigh. He didn’t want to think about anything other than enjoying the remainder of the evening. Robin’s attention was immediately taken up with the movie, and over the course of the following couple of hours, he watched as she sighed, laughed and cried as she absorbed the movie and its whole sappy nonsense. She edged closer to him as the film progressed, and by the time the end came, her head was tucked neatly against his shoulder, their thighs pressed intimately together. As people started moving to leave the theater, Amersen heard her stifle a yawn.

“Come on, tu dors debout,” he said, getting to his feet as he translated. “Sleepyhead. Time for me to get you home.”

She nodded, and they quickly packed up their belongings and headed back to the car.

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