Wild About A Texan. Jan Hudson

of the greatest restaurants in the state.”

      If Mitch hadn’t walked away right then, Jackson would have decked him. Instead, he jerked the card from her hand, tore it in little pieces and dropped them in a nearby flowerpot.

      “Jackson! Why did you do that?”

      “Do what?”

      “Don’t be dense! Why did you tear up Mitch’s card?”

      “’Cause I don’t want you calling him. Stay away from the man. He’s dangerous. Let’s dance.”

      She didn’t budge. “Dangerous?”

      “Yes. He dyes his hair, lies about his golf handicap and wears boxer shorts with little smiley faces all over them.”

      She tried to keep her lips pressed together, but she finally lost the battle with a laugh. “Jackson, aren’t you ever serious?”

      “More than you know, darlin’.” He pulled her close and breathed in the sweet smell of her. “I’m real serious right now.”

      “Olivia!” came a feminine squeal from a few feet away.

      Olivia pushed away from him, and her face lit up. “Kim!” She held out her arms and they hugged like long lost sisters. “It’s been so long. You look great!”

      “And so do you. Why didn’t you write? We were worried about you.”

      Olivia shrugged. “Sorry, but you know me. I hate writing letters. It’s so wonderful to see you again. Irish tells me that you’ve had an exciting offer with the state department. Let’s go powder our noses and catch up on all the news.”

      And slick as a whistle, she was gone. Jackson could hardly follow her into the ladies’ room—though he considered it. His good manners finally got the upper hand, and he turned away, looking for Mitch. He and his old friend had a little business to discuss.

      He hadn’t even considered Mitch’s outrageous request earlier, knowing that, sure as shootin’, he would end up humiliated. He was painfully aware of his limitations. Now things had changed. Jackson told himself that he was letting himself in for a lot of grief, but in spite of the risks, he was going to take Mitch up on his offer. Somehow he would manage to keep from looking like too much of an idiot. After all, he’d been fooling folks for years, and Olivia was worth the gamble.

      Olivia and Kim talked nonstop for twenty minutes or more. Finally Kim said, “I hate to leave you, but I promised my folks that I would be right back. Irish invited me over for breakfast tomorrow. We’ll spend the morning gabbing.” Kim hugged her. “Gosh, I’ve missed you two.” With a wiggle of her fingers, her friend left.

      Olivia lingered, repairing her makeup and stalling her return to the reception. She’d loved catching up on all the news with Kim. She’d missed her vivacious young friend. Although Kim was more than a decade younger than Olivia, the two of them, along with Irish, had been housemates in Washington and had become very close. Kim had been in college and working part-time for Congresswoman Ellen Crow O’Hara, Jackson and Matt’s older sister and Kim’s aunt by marriage. Olivia had been working on her doctorate in psychology and trying to get her life back on track after her divorce. Irish, who had inherited the old house they lived in, was working as a cosmetic consultant and trying to get her life back on track after a terrible mugging in New York that had ruined her modeling career.

      The bonds that Olivia forged with the two women had saved her sanity. They had become the sisters she’d never had, the closest thing to a family that she had left. Her mother had died when she was ten. Her older brother had left home the day he turned eighteen, and God only knew where he was. Her father, a prominent cardiologist in Palm Springs, had disinherited her when she divorced Thomas, not that severing ties with her father was any great loss. He was a tyrant whose abuse had driven her mother to suicide, her brother to the streets and her into a terrible marriage to a man who could have been her father’s clone.

      “Olivia?”

      She glanced up to see Irish’s beautiful face smiling in the mirror. “Irish, the wedding was lovely. Eve looks so happy.”

      “She is happy. But you look awfully sad.”

      Olivia shook her head and tucked her lipstick into her purse. “No, I was just reminiscing about the good times we had in Washington at your old house.”

      “We did have some crazy times there, didn’t we? But come on, the bride and groom are about to cut the cake, and Jackson is wearing a hole in the floor outside. He sent me in after you.”

      “Irish, I really don’t want to get involved with Jackson. I’m simply not ready for any kind of meaningful relationship with a man. I’ve been stung too many times.”

      “Oh, don’t worry about Jackson. I don’t think meaningful relationship is in his vocabulary. In fact, someone like him might be good for you. You need to cut loose and have a little fun. Come on.”

      Olivia had no choice but to rise and rejoin the party.

      Despite her resolve to keep her distance from Jackson, he was at her side almost constantly, and she’d been enjoying herself. He was a wonderful dancer, and she told him so as he whirled her around the floor.

      “Thanks,” he replied. “I majored in dancing and poker at college.”

      She laughed. He was such a cutup. “Where did you go to school, and what did you really major in?”

      “I have several alma mammies, and my major changed from semester to semester. Academics never interested me the way it did my brother and sister and cousins. I wouldn’t have even gone to college if it hadn’t been for Grandpa Pete putting the screws to me.”

      “I recall Irish telling me something about a deal your grandfather made with each of you. He paid for your education, then gave you a million dollars when you graduated?”

      “Yep. Then we had five years to double the million. If we did it, he sweetened the pot. My sister sank her million into an ingenious invention by her boyfriend, who’s now her husband. Matt started Crow Airline and struck it rich. Kyle made a killing as a plastic surgeon to the stars in California. My cousin Smith, Kyle’s younger brother, started a computer company when he was in college and made his fortune.”

      “And you?” Olivia asked. “How did you double your money? I assume that you did.”

      “Yep. My biggest talent has always been my luck, so I bought a million dollars worth of lottery tickets.”

      She stopped dead still, astonished. He did a fast shuffle to keep from trampling her toes. “Lottery tickets? You’re joking.”

      “Nope. If you think about it, I had great odds. Won eleven-million dollars.”

      “You won?”

      “Absolutely.”

      She shook her head. “Jackson Crow, you’re crazy.”

      He grinned down at her. “Absolutely.” He pulled her close and whirled her around the floor again. “I’m crazy about you, Olivia Emory.”

      She stiffened. “Moore.”

      “Sorry. Moore. I’m glad you’re rid of that bozo’s name.”

      She’d told him the same story about her name change that she’d told his grandfather. Amazing how easily she’d learned to lie, especially when her life had come to depend on it. She had changed names two or three times since she’d last seen Jackson. Her ruse must have worked, for she hadn’t seen or heard from Thomas since he’d tracked her to Akron and crashed Irish’s wedding reception.

      “Relax,” Jackson whispered in her ear, drawing her close.

      “Pardon?”

      “You suddenly went stiff as a post.”

      “Sorry. I must be getting a bit tired.”

      “Oh,