One Night With The Texan. Lauren Canan

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      A chill went down her spine at the thought that the lost tribe might actually prove to have existed. But why had her grandmother waited until she was dying to tell her? And where had the map been all these years? She’d spent a lot of time at her ipokini’s house as a child and had never seen it or anything like it. Tallie could only suppose her grandmother had her reasons and all she could do now was accept that some things would never be explained.

      Clutching the court-issued injunction in her hand, she took another look around. The paperwork required the owner of the property to halt all operations for ninety days so that she could search for relics. She would concentrate on the present and take the future one step at a time.

      Suddenly the wind kicked up, blowing her long hair in every direction. She fought to catch it at the back of her head and then pulled a band from the pocket of her jeans and secured it in a rough knot on her crown. The sound of a helicopter in the distance shattered the silence. It was coming toward her and not wasting any time, soon landing a safe distance from where she stood between the old trapper’s hut and the river. She didn’t have to be told who it was. Cole Masters, billionaire eight-times-over and owner of this land, had arrived. Dr. Sterling had mentioned she might receive some resistance from this man, whose reputation for doing things his way preceded him.

      The man who emerged from the chopper was big. Broad shoulders, his biceps bulging beneath the rolled-up sleeves of the white-silk dress shirt. A blue tie had been loosened at the neck to accommodate the unbuttoned top of his shirt. Honey-brown eyes were emphasized by dark lashes. His short, dark brown hair and his thick beard gave him the look of a warrior. His chiseled jaw was set for a fight. His full lips were drawn into a line of disapproval and those eyes were fixed on her as he marched to where she stood. So this was the great Cole Masters. Alive and in person.

      In spite of her professional approach to matters such as these, the closer he came, the more she felt her years of study and experience fading to nothing. On that realization, she took a deep breath and concentrated on why she was here. This dig was a one-shot attempt to prove something incredible. She wouldn’t allow herself to be swayed by his sex appeal or intimidated by his rumored bitterness and arrogance. She’d somehow maintain the professional attitude the situation called for.

      “Cole Masters,” he introduced himself, extending his hand.

      “Dr. Tallie Finley, archaeologist with the North Texas Natural History Museum,” she said as she accepted his hand. It was twice the size of hers and exceedingly warm. A slight electric current tingled between their grips, traveling some distance up her arm. She could tell by his frown he’d felt it, too. She quickly withdrew her hand.

      “It’s you.” His brows raised in surprise and his demeanor became less in your face.

      “Ah...yes. I’m me and I’m guessing this is what you want to see.” Something about him seemed vaguely familiar but she couldn’t quite place him.

      She handed him the court document. “It allows an intrusive and extensive survey of the area indicated on the map as presented to the court.”

      “You are Dr. Finley?”

      Something had suddenly removed the harsh tone from Mr. Masters’s voice and replaced it with a slight hint of congeniality. Because she didn’t know what had caused the change, she was more off kilter than when she’d initially faced his hostility. Good grief. Had she failed to button her blouse? Was she wearing the oatmeal she’d had for breakfast?

      “I am.”

      “Dr. Finley...” he said again, and handed the paper back to her. He cleared his throat. “Do you see that heavy equipment over there?” He swung around and nodded at the bulldozers, cement trucks and other pieces of large equipment she couldn’t name. “We are in the middle of a project. The planning alone has taken years. These guys are here today to pour the foundations, all twenty-five of them. As you can see, the roughed-in plumbing is already installed. How are we supposed to do our work if you’re in the same area looking for whatever you think might be there?”

      Her eyes were drawn to his lips. So full. So enticing. She swallowed hard. She again had that vague feeling of having met this man before but the only face that came to mind was the mysterious stranger who had seduced her. No way could the two men be the same.

      “I understand this might be an inconvenience for you, Mr. Masters. But the reason I’m here is equally important. Possibly more so.” He drew back, shaking his head. “What I’m seeking could potentially be under the spot where you plan to pour concrete, which would be a problem. If there are artifacts there, they could be damaged by your construction. If you’ll tell your workers to move their equipment out of my work area, I’ll conduct my research as expeditiously as I can to get out of your way.”

      “That’s it?” His eyes locked with hers and she felt a tingle run down her spine. Where had she seen those eyes before? Suddenly a feeling of deja vu ran rampant. “We halt our operation and get out of your way? On my land.” His frustration was coming back. She could see the muscles in his jaw working overtime. Something about his voice touched a nerve. She’d swear she’d heard it before, which was ridiculous. She didn’t run in the same circles as billionaires.

      “I would assume the judge knew who owned this land when he signed the order. I would have to say he’s probably not going to change his mind. If you should decide to take your case before a higher court, it would take longer than I’ll be here.” Unless she found proof an ancient civilization existed, which would make the ninety-day limit moot, but she would be throwing gas on the fire to bring that up now.

      “Yeah. He knows me. And I know that judge. My attorneys will handle this.”

      “Of course. That’s entirely your right.” The man sure didn’t mind throwing his weight around. She’d never seen a court-ordered, ninety-day search permit overturned. But to smile, as she wanted to do, might provoke him further. She fought the urge. Neither of them needed that. Just the fact that he was here and causing a delay was bad enough.

      He called out to one of his men. “Harvey, this is Dr. Finley.” His eyes flashed to hers then back to his foreman. “She has a map detailing an area in which she needs to work and has been given the authority to do so by the court. Temporarily. I want the area flagged. Call Michaels at the land surveyor’s office, if need be.”

      Harvey didn’t look at all convinced he could do as asked, but he wasn’t going to tell his boss that. “Yes, sir.”

      “And you’ll have to move the equipment. Find a rise, in case we get a storm, and make sure it’s all outside of her...work area. The concrete trucks need to go back to Latham’s Equipment.” He received another nod from his foreman. “Just what is it, exactly, you’re looking for, Doctor?” His hands rose to his hips. “Some kind of Indian relics?”

      “Something like that.” It was a heck of a lot more than that. But because of his in-your-face attitude, she was hesitant to enlighten him further. He wouldn’t care and it was her experience the more a land owner knew, the worse they could make it for the archaeology team. “Actually, I’m looking for artifacts establishing my own family line. The recovery of such relics will be of great scientific value to the Native American Historical Society as well as to the National Historical Association. Do you keep cattle here? I need to know so I can take precautions if the answer is yes,” she continued.

      “No,” he replied. “No cows or any other livestock allowed on this part of the property.”

      * * *

      He stared at her. His eyes narrowed as he looked, really looked, at her face. He couldn’t stop his eyes from roaming from her eyes and lips down her body, all the way to her toes. He ran one hand over his lower face as her identity confirmed in his mind. It hit him like a blow to his solar plexus. His expression changed to a smile he tried to hold in check.

      Tallie Finley was the beautiful woman he’d spent the night with in New Orleans. No doubt.

      Apparently she hadn’t recognized him. Yet. He currently wore a beard and was