The Barons Of Texas: Tess. Fayrene Preston

slowly shook his head, his gaze never once leaving her.

      She found herself speechless. She felt as if he’d isolated her from the rest of the world, yet she was surrounded by friends, none of whom seemed the least bit alarmed that she was dancing with a perfect stranger who radiated a barely contained electric energy and thus danger.

      But then, they couldn’t see what she was seeing, nor could they feel what he was making her feel.

      A dark fire simmered in the depths of his remarkable eyes—eyes, she was convinced, that, if he chose, he could use like a lethal weapon. With a single glance he would be able to mow down anyone who got in his way or, conversely, reach across the terrace and touch her, making her aware of him in every part of her body. And that had been when they were yards from each other.

      Now, as she danced with him, he was having an even greater impact on her. She couldn’t have said what the band was playing. She only knew that the two of them were moving slowly, sensually and in perfect unison. And, oddly, it seemed very right.

      Her reaction didn’t make sense.

      He didn’t make sense.

      The sun had almost set, leaving behind fading streaks of red, orange and gold just above the horizon. The lights around the dance floor and in the trees had come on, yet he remained every bit as powerful, as elemental and as comfortable as he had been with the sun behind him.

      “Happy birthday, Tess,” someone called.

      “Thank you,” she said, blindly glancing in the direction of the voice, then immediately looked back at him, the man whose heat had melted her and whose strength had molded her against him with ease. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, her legs rubbed against the steel of his thighs. She didn’t even know his name, yet the aggressive, masculine force of his body impacted her every cell, bringing out feminine urges and needs so new, she wasn’t sure what to do with them.

      “You throw a great party,” he murmured.

      “Thank you. It was so good of you to come.”

      For the first time he smiled at her—a partial smile, a knowing smile, a completely self-assured smile. And the effect was a shock of electricity that bolted straight through her and made her catch her breath. A full smile from him might stop her heart.

      Her hand moved restlessly over his shoulder, the fine cut and expensive cloth of his dark suit adding one more piece to the puzzle of him. Simply by dancing with him, she was coming to know his body well, and she could tell his strength didn’t come from bulky muscles but rather the lean, elongated muscles of a natural athlete. Yet another piece. “Do you make it a practice to crash parties?”

      “Actually, this is my first.”

      “And are you having a good time?”

      “So far I can’t complain.”

      “If you’ll tell me your name, I might put you on the guest list for next year. Or would you just prefer to crash again?”

      “Neither. I’m afraid I can’t wait a year to see you again.”

      “Why—” Someone bumped against her back. Protectively, he tightened his hold on her and circled her in another direction.

      “Hey, Sis. Happy birthday.”

      She looked around, then inwardly sighed. She should have known. No one but her youngest sister, Kit, would deliberately bump into her. And no one but Kit would have dressed for what she knew to be a dressy affair in a tight T-shirt, even tighter jeans and a pair of Western boots that Tess knew for a fact were eight years old and looked twelve. “Thank you.”

      The man didn’t relinquish his hold on her, but he did allow room for her to turn toward her sister.

      “Is Des coming?” Kit asked, all the while doing some sort of dance that amazingly fit the music.

      Kit’s red hair was flying; her green eyes were sparkling. Her arms were in the air, and her hips and feet were moving in a way that not only looked incredibly sexy but made Tess feel a tinge of envy that Kit could move so uninhibitedly. Kit’s partner was someone she didn’t know, but from the looks of his jeans, Western-cut shirt and boots, she guessed he might be a new hire at the family ranch.

      “I don’t know. Des didn’t RSVP.”

      Kit came to an abrupt stop, though her partner didn’t seem to notice and kept on dancing. “Des couldn’t be more exasperating if he tried, and I sometimes suspect he does.”

      “You got it.”

      Tess knew that Kit’s aim in bringing one of the ranch hands to her party and dressing like she had almost every day of her life since she’d gotten out of diapers was to flout tradition and embarrass her sisters. But what Kit didn’t realize was that she looked better in her jeans and T-shirt than half the women at the party whose dresses had come from Neiman Marcus. And a cursory glance at the crowd showed her that at least three of her single friends and two of the married ones were openly salivating over Kit’s date.

      Kit hooked her thumbs in her pockets and flashed Tess’s dance partner a smile that revealed a perfect set of dimples. “Who’s your date, Sis?”

      “I haven’t the slightest idea.”

      Kit’s eyebrows rose. “Cool,” she said, her tone for once sincere. Then she danced away.

      The man laughed, a deep chuckle.

      Drawing away from him, she looked at him. “Is there some reason you won’t tell me your name? Like maybe you’re at the top of the FBI’s Most Wanted list?”

      “No.”

      “Then tell me.”

      He shrugged. “The thing is, I doubt my name will mean anything to you.”

      She exhaled a long breath, reaching for patience. “Why don’t you let me decide that? I’m tired of this little game you’re playing. Tell me or I’m going to walk away.”

      A slow smile spread across his face, this smile even more powerful than his last. “Ah…a threat from the birthday girl.”

      She refused to be affected by his smile, though she could feel the futility of her resistance as it slipped by the moment. “Are you or are you not going to tell me?”

      “Nick Trejo. My name is Nick Trejo.”

      The name sounded vaguely familiar, but for the life of her, she couldn’t place it. “Okay, you’re right. It doesn’t mean anything to me.”

      “I didn’t think it would.”

      “Uh-huh. Okay. Let me try another tack. How did you know about this party tonight?”

      “I’ve made it my business to find out as much as possible about you.”

      Suddenly cautious, she stared at him, wondering if she could figure him out if she stared at him long enough. But no. He wasn’t giving anything away—not by expression, and certainly not by words.

      “Don’t worry. I’m not a stalker.”

      “No? Then, Nick Trejo, I think it’s past time you told me what you want.”

      “That’s easy,” he said, pulling her against him while his amber gaze held steady on her. “I want peace on earth, food and shelter enough for every living being, but right now I’m satisfied just to be dancing with you.” His voice turned raspy. “You feel good against me. You fit me.”

      One minute he had her regarding him with caution, the next he had her melting with heat. And she couldn’t very well protest or say she didn’t understand what he was saying, since from the beginning of their dance, her body had involuntarily molded itself to his and there had been nothing she could do about it.

      One song had stopped. Another had begun. An intimate cloud of music settled around