Page 48 of A Fortunes of Texas Christmas (Fortunes of Texas)

She wanted to shout the words at the top of her lungs.

“If you are sure?” he asked politely.

“Of course,” her mother said. “You’re very welcome.”

And suddenly, it was all settled, and now Amersen was sitting opposite her at her parents’ kitchen table. No notice. Not a phone call or a text message. She hadn’t heard from the man in two weeks and he’d been prowling all over Paris, sleeping with every woman he met, but now he was having breakfast with her family as though it was the most normal thing in the world. She’d liked it better when they’d all hated him. Because it was clear that her mother no longer considered him unsuitable and he was back to being all exotic and French and adorable. Even Evan was being civilized, and Reece didn’t appear to have an opinion one way or another. But Robin did. She was so mad she was seething inside.

And he knew it.

His blue eyes were glittering, cool and seductive, as though he could read every thought in her head. She could have strangled him. Or at the very least, done some serious damage to his nether regions. Who did he think he was? His arrogance was astounding. How dare he come into her home and seduce everyone with his voice and charm and too-damn-sexy-for-words haircut?

“Are you okay, ma chérie?”

His question silenced all other conversation.

She could barely look at him, particularly since she knew her family were all waiting for her response. When she did look up, she glared. “Ma chérie?” she echoed incredulously, heat burning her skin as it crawled up her neck. “How dare you call me that.”

“Robin, if I have—”

“Who the hell is she, Amersen?” she demanded as she stood and pushed her chair back, tossing her napkin on her plate, ignoring the stunned faces of everyone at the table. “Who’s the goddamned redhead?”

Before he could reply, she was away from the table, through the doorway and out of the room. She grabbed a Mexican blanket from the hook by the door and wrapped it over her shoulders as she left the house and kept walking until she was outside and striding toward the corral, heaving in great big breaths, trying desperately not to cry. It wasn’t long before she heard the screen door open and close and saw him striding toward her. She raced into the barn and waited, knowing he would follow. When he found her, he stopped a few feet away, hands on hips, feet apart, his eyes bluer than she’d ever seen.

“You need a coat,” she said. He’d taken it off inside and hadn’t bother putting it back on. She didn’t want him catching pneumonia on her conscience. “Idiot.”

“Do I get the chance to defend myself?”

“You can’t defend the indefensible,” she shot back and decided she didn’t care if he did catch pneumonia. “Big stupid jerk.”

His mouth curled at the edges. “So...the redhead? Care to explain that comment?”

Robin scowled, then fished her cell phone out of her pocket and within seconds found the incriminating photograph. “That redhead!” she spat and held the phone in front of his face. “Looks like you two had quite the night.”

He glanced at the picture and then waved a dismissive hand. “I did not sleep with that woman...if that’s what you?

??re implying.”

“I’m not implying anything,” she retorted, fueled by adrenaline and hurt and humiliation. “I’m stating a fact...she’s got that look on her face.”

“What look?”

Robin wanted to slug him for being so obtuse. “The I’ve-been-screwing-Amersen-Beaudin-all-night look. I know that look... I’ve seen it in the mirror.”

He took a moment and then laughed. “You’re...jalouse? Jealous?”

Her humiliation increased tenfold. “I am not.”

“Oh, yes, you are,” he said, still chuckling. “You are green with it. But it is misplaced, Robin. I do not even know who she is.”

“Charming!”

“I mean,” he said and took a step closer, “that I cannot recall that photo. It could have been taken some time ago. But it certainly hasn’t been taken in the last two weeks.”

“How can you be so sure?” she demanded.

“Because this,” he said as he stepped toward her and curled a hand around her nape, “this is the closest I have been to another human being in the last agonizing two weeks.”

Robin’s legs weakened. Oh, he talked a good game. And she wanted to believe him. So much. “But the picture...”

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