The Texan's Twins. Pamela Britton

Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       Chapter Nineteen

       Chapter Twenty

       Chapter Twenty-One

       Extract

       Copyright

       Chapter One

      Hole-lee Toledo—

      Jet Baron slammed on the brakes, nearly clocking his chin on the steering wheel in the process.

      Dust kicked up from his truck’s tires and wafted around the woman’s silhouette. A blonde woman—a drop-dead gorgeous woman—in a black dress stared at him curiously as he drifted to a stop.

      She waved, mouthed hello, and all Jet could think was, all right, which one of his rodeo friends had set him up? They’d teased him mercilessly last night when he’d told them about the meeting this morning out in the middle of a field in Nowhere, Texas. Jet Baron, forced to work, they’d said. Not forced, he’d explained. More like...emotionally blackmailed.

      This had to be his friends’ idea of a joke because there was no way this was J. C. Marks, their newly hired engineer at Baron Energies. Granted, he’d never met the man, but the point was, J.C. was a man.

      “Ha, ha, ha,” he said as he slipped out of his truck, the words Baron Energies on the side—unlike her truck. “Very funny.”

      The woman in the black dress stepped away from her vehicle and frowned.

      “I beg your pardon?”

      Eyes the same piercing blue of an Artic fox scanned first him and then his white truck. She had golden hair, the kind that glowed like pirate’s treasure and hung well past her shoulders, and a heart-shaped face complete with a tiny chin and nose. Her huge eyes were outlined with black; it made her appear even more doll-like. This was no engineer with a master’s degree in engineering. No way.

      “You going to peel off your dress now? Or later?”

      “Excuse me?”

      “Don’t worry. It’s not your fault. My friends didn’t know I was meeting a man. A project engineer, actually, and you don’t exactly look the part. Nice try, though.”

      Her mouth hung open a bit, and it was a plump, juicy-looking mouth, one that made him think of eating fruit for some strange reason.

      “Let me guess. Jet Baron.”

      “One and the same.” He gave her a welcoming smile, his gaze slowly sliding over her body. Damn. Wherever they’d found her, his buddies had outdone themselves. Hot didn’t begin to describe her. Damn hot. Holy-moly hot.

      “Why am I not surprised?” she asked.

      Her sarcasm startled him, as did the way she eyed him up and down, her gaze skating over his jeans and black shirt. So direct. So appraising. So...disappointed.

      He straightened. “If you’re going to start stripping, you better do it now. I’m expecting the engineer at any moment.”

      She had tipped her head sideways, her long hair falling in large curls over one shoulder. “You think I’m some kind of prank. An actress hired to, what? Pretend to have a meeting with you? Then strip out of my clothes?”

      He’d started to get a funny feeling—like he’d walked into a room at the end of a joke. “Well, yeah.”

      She took a step toward him, and he would be lying if he didn’t feel as if, somehow, the joke was on him.

      “Tell me something—what makes you think the engineer in question is a man?”

      “I was told that.”

      “By whom?”

      He couldn’t remember, but it didn’t matter.

      When his sister had told him to meet with their newest engineer, she’d said Mr. Marks...hadn’t she?

      “I don’t know who told me, just that I know he’s a man. All engineers in the oil industry are men, but if you want to pretend you’re part of the industry, have at it. Won’t matter once you take off your clothes.”

      She took another step toward him. “Oh, but see? You’re wrong.” One more step. “There’s actually quite a few of us women in the business. I graduated from UC Berkeley with a degree in geology.” Another step. “I interned for the USGS out of Menlo Park while getting that degree, then moved back to Texas to get my master’s in engineering. My father was a wildcatter, and it was from him that I learned the business, so let me reassure you, Mr. Baron, I can tell the difference between an injection hose and a drill pipe. I’ve worked on both drilling rigs and production platforms, but if you still insist only men can be engineers, perhaps we should call your sister Lizzie, the one who hired me.”

      He couldn’t speak for a moment, and then all he could utter was “Oh, crap.”

      Her brows lifted, her extraordinary blue eyes scanning him up and down, her derision clearly evident. “Still want me to strip?”

      He almost said yes, but he could tell that he was in enough trouble as it is. “I take it you’re J.C.?”

      “I am.”

      Why hadn’t Lizzie told him? Then again, why would she? Lizzie had her hands full between helping to run Baron Energies and being newly engaged, not to mention pregnant. The gender of their engineer wasn’t exactly something you discussed during the course of a normal conversation, especially when that sister was perturbed with you because you weren’t pulling your weight.

      “I should apologize.”

      “You think?”

      He almost laughed. “You’ve got to admit.” He pointed a palm toward her dress. “You don’t exactly look like an engineer.”

      She glanced down, then back up. “I have a meeting with our corporate attorney after this. The jacket that goes over this is in the truck, but I don’t generally wear one when I’m out of the office and it’s nearly ninety degrees outside.”

      She was right. They were out in a field, on a plot of land his dad had bought years ago and that they’d just recently received the EPA’s approval to develop for oil. Nothing but flat pasture as far as the eye could see with a few trees here and there and prickly pear cacti dotting the landscape. He had already begun to sweat, but not because of the heat.

      “Okay, I see your