A Fortunes Of Texas Christmas. Helen Lacey

laughed softly. “Such a reputation I have.”

      “Sometimes,” Robin said and smiled, “reputation is enough to make an accurate assessment.”

      Amersen held her gaze. It was a very pointed remark, and they both knew it. She knew enough about him to come to some kind of judgment. Certainly, it was easy enough to click a few buttons on a computer and discover who he was, since he spent much of his time working social media to his advantage. But he knew what she’d find if she dug a little. Gossip and innuendo. Inflated facts about his lifestyle. Sure, he lived his life to the fullest, but if he slept around as much as the media reported, he’d have little time for anything else.

      “And sometimes you shouldn’t believe everything you read,” he said and smiled lightly.

      “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.

      “Are you lost?”

      He smiled a stunning, megawatt smile that did little to alleviate the way her blood was now surging through her veins from a combination of loathing and lust. She’d already decided she hated him and had no intention of changing her mind on that score. He could smile at her all he wanted.

      “No,” he replied flatly. “I was looking for you.”

      Her suspicions soared. “Why?”

      “Because I think I offended you earlier.”

      She smiled übersweetly, plunged the fork into a pot and pulled off her gloves. “I’d have to care what you think to be offended, wouldn’t I?”

      “I meant no disrespect, mademoiselle.”

      “Sure you did,” she shot back quickly. “You wanted to put me in my place, and you did exactly that. I mean, what would a mere gardener know about big business...right?” She smiled again, with so much saccharine sweetness it made her teeth hurt.

      He laughed deeply, and the rich, sexy sound echoed in her ears. Damn. Why couldn’t he be old and ugly? And not possess charm by the bucket load? And why had he come looking for her? It certainly wasn’t for some half-meant, absurd apology.

      “Let me take you to dinner to make up for my...offense.”

      He wanted to take her to dinner? Like, on a date?

      She laughed out loud. “You’re not serious.”

      “Perfectly.”

      She laughed again, this time without humor. “Ah, no, thanks.”

      “Do you need some time to consider the request?”

      His formal, ridiculous manner turned her humorless smile into a scowl. “What I need, Mr. Beaudin, is to never see you again. Go away. I have work to do.”

      “Surely you must take a break,” he said and pushed himself off the door frame. “If not tonight, perhaps tomorrow night?”

      He strolled toward her, arms loosely at his sides, but with a stealth she found both exciting and annoying. She wanted him gone. “Give it a rest, Amersen,” she said, using his name for the first time and stretching out the vowels with an exaggerated drawl. “Your blue eyes and sexy accent might work in the city, but out here in my greenhouse, there’s no one to impress.”

      “Except for you.”

      His ego was astounding!

      “I’m not interested in being impressed by you.”