Page 8 of A Fortunes of Texas Christmas (Fortunes of Texas)

“True. But I generally trust my instincts.”

Amersen bit back a grin.

“So, Robin,” Kate said quietly, “Amersen was just saying how he wasn’t sure his image is enough to sell a high-end fragrance. What do you think?”

She looked him over again, and Amersen felt himself twitch all over. He was sure this woman, with her sexy drawl, worn jeans and gardening gloves, wouldn’t have any kind of clue what it took to successfully market a product like an expensive fragrance.

But she didn’t look the least bit overwhelmed by the question. She shrugged one shoulder and tilted her head a fraction. “Well, he’s certainly attractive enough. And has a distinctive online status. All things considered, I can’t see why it wouldn’t be a successful venture. And sometimes good business is about risk, correct?”

Now Amersen laughed. “You know this, do you?”

Her chin came up, defiant and annoyed. “I know opportunity when I see it.”

For a moment, he wondered if she was talking about the fragrance...or something else. The awareness between them was undeniable, and Amersen was astute enough to recognize a woman’s interest.

“Yes,” he said, briefly motioning to her appearance, “I’m sure you see much opportunity from your position out in the garden bed.”

Her chin rose again, higher, more defiant, more annoyed. And then she laughed, as though she found him hilarious. “And I’m sure you’re one of those men in love with the sound of their own voice.”

Kate cleared her throat, as though sensing the sudden tension developing. “Ah, Amersen,” the older woman said quietly, “Robin is more than simply a gardener. She has a degree in plant biology and often—”

“I’m sure Mr. Beaudin isn’t interested in my qualifications,” she said, gently cutting Kate off.

And she was right. He wasn’t interested in her qualifications. But he was interested in her. More so with each passing second. “My apologies if I offended you, Miss Harbin.”

Sure, he apologized. But he didn’t mean it. And she knew it!

She waved an uninterested hand, but even that seemed fake and insincere. One thing about her—she couldn’t take criticism. He bit back a grin, realizing they had a common trait, and decided he liked her more with each passing second.

“So...Kate,” Amersen said and gestured to the folder in his hands, “shall we get back to business?”

The older woman nodded. “Of course.” She looked toward Robin and smiled. “If you’ll excuse us?”

“Certainly,” she replied and glanced at him as though he was something unpleasant.

“Thank you for your help, mademoiselle,” Amersen said and raised a brow. “It was most enlightening.”

“Anytime,” she said and smirked. “See you around the gazebo. Or not.”

Then she turned and left the room.

“That’s Robin,” Kate said, as though to remind him.

But Amersen didn’t need reminding. Earlier he’d made the decision to stay in Austin for a few days. He wanted time to think over Kate’s business proposal.

And he wanted time to get Robin Harbin into his bed.

* * *

Gorgeous, yeah. Nice...definitely not! That was all Robin could think as she stomped her way back to the greenhouse, fuming from head to toe.

She was still steaming when Otis approached her half an hour later and said he would be spending the rest of the day in the small orchard at the rear of the big house. And still pissed an hour after that when she was elbow-deep in potting mixture in the orchid hothouse, slicing through the soil with a small, pronged fork. Using her pent-up energy made her feel better...and took her mind off a certain unbearable Frenchman. She’d made up her mind that she never wanted to see him again. Or speak to him. Or share air with him.

“Do you always attack your work with such...enthusiasm?”

Amersen.

Robin took a deep breath and straightened her back, then pivoted on her heels and turned to face him. He stood in the doorway, leaning on the jamb, hands in his pockets, jacket open and his tie a little askew. He looked like he belonged on a billboard and her treacherous, damned libido started jumping around like a jackhammer.

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