At The Playboy's Command: Millionaire Playboy, Maverick Heiress. Robyn Grady

I’m looking for my life.

      “I chose a degree in psychology,” she said, collecting her final essay with the excellent grade, “because I wanted to help people.”

      Bent, about to collect a pile of books, Nita froze. “Has something happened at the shelter?” Nita knew of Elizabeth’s work there and how she’d like to do more.

      “No.” Elizabeth corrected herself. “Not exactly. A woman dropped off a letter here. I asked Chad to organize some funds.”

      “Oh.” Above her glasses, Nita’s eyebrows lifted, as if that explained everything about Elizabeth’s low mood. She placed the books on the edge of the ornate 1920s timber desk, which had been Ethan Milton’s pride and joy.

      “We had our usual tussle,” Elizabeth explained, “about whether I was being responsible with my parents’ money.”

      “It’s your money now.”

      Still on the floor, Elizabeth blew a stream of air toward the ceiling. Their money. Her money. Wills and caveats and time sliding away. Twenty-five, twenty-six. One day, before she knew it, she’d be Nita’s age.

      Elizabeth pushed to her feet. “Suddenly I feel so stifled.”

      “So you’ve decided to do more study?”

      Looking around, she shrugged. “Maybe.”

      Nita leaned her hips back against the desk, waiting for the younger woman to continue.

      Elizabeth wandered to a window and, resting the side of her head against the jamb, looked out on another amazing Texas sunset.

      “Daniel came over last night.”

      “I guessed.”

      She folded her arms over her nervous stomach. “He makes me feel things I haven’t felt before.”

      “You’re falling in love with him?”

      “No.” Elizabeth released the sudden buildup of energy and, thinking more deeply on it, slowly shook her head then smiled. “But I sure like having him around.”

      “If he gets the job for the club, he’ll be in Royal for a while.”

      “I imagine so.” Elizabeth turned to face her friend. “He asked me to go away with him for a couple of days.”

      Approving, Nita nodded. “When do you leave?”

      “I’m not sure. When he left this morning, he had an idea for the design he wanted to work on.”

      “See what a slice of my cheesecake can do?”

      A smile broke across Elizabeth’s face. “Imagine if he’d had two pieces.”

      Elizabeth crossed the room and sat behind the desk. A photograph of her grandparents sat on one side in a solid silver frame. Another of her mother and father on their wedding day sat on the other. Both shots had been taken out front of this house.

      Elizabeth collected the wedding day shot and felt her throat swell with emotion. Whenever the miss you feeling got too much, she liked to look through old photographs, although she was never sure if it made her feel better or worse.

      “Daniel doesn’t like his parents,” she murmured, running a fingertip down the train of her mother’s wedding gown. “He dislikes his memories of the South even more.”

      “The past is important. We need to understand where we come from,” Nita said in her wise rather than wisecrack voice. “But we need to remember that the future is ours to create.”

      “Is it?” Setting down the photo, Elizabeth imagined a similar shot of her with a proud Texan husband. “Or is it mapped out for us?” Plotted with a few twists and turns before an inevitable conclusion?

      “I’ve decided to see more of my mother,” Nita said. “Stay more regularly.”

      Elizabeth’s gaze snapped up. “Not to give Daniel and me more space here?”

      “I’d already decided.” Her lips twitched. “Although he is a nice boy.”

      “He’s a busy set-in-his-ways-millionaire-passing-through boy.” Elizabeth slumped. “And I’m a restless heiress with too much time on her hands.”

      “You’re a man and a woman.”

      “It feels wrong to want something I know I can never have. And yet when we’re together, it feels so right.”

      “Go away with Daniel. Enjoy your time.” Nita sauntered toward the door. “The ranch will be here when you get back.”

      Folding her forearms on the desk, Elizabeth bent forward to study the papers strewn across the floor. Then she remembered Chad’s unacceptable behavior and all the women from the shelter she’d helped in the past. Finally she remembered Daniel, his wicked smile, scorching embraces. His offer of escape.

      Her stomach sinking, Elizabeth laid her head on her folded arms.

       What if she never wanted to come back?

Ten

      Elizabeth was curious when she didn’t hear from Daniel the rest of the day, but when flowers appeared on her doorstep the next morning, her heart leaped. She was sure he’d dropped off the gorgeous handpicked bunch of wild blooms. But when she ripped open the small card, she learned she was mistaken.

      It read simply:

       Thank you for making such a difference.

      She slowly lowered the card. Not from Daniel. Still the warmth unfurling around her heart at the sentiment swam up to form a big smile. Seemed the flowers were from the sister of the woman she’d helped. She must have received the check Elizabeth had collected from Chad’s office and dropped at the shelter late yesterday. Good. Elizabeth hoped she would be kept up-to-date on that family’s progress from time to time, on how the days, months and even years ahead unfolded.

      Midmorning, Elizabeth went for a long ride, checking cattle and fences until almost noon. She investigated study options until one o’clock, but the whole time she couldn’t help watching the phone. When Daniel still hadn’t called by two, she put pride aside and dressed to go into town.

      Thirty minutes later, her pewter Shelby Cobra curved into the town’s main street. She parked directly in front of the Royal Hotel but then, for a good ten minutes, she simply sat, wringing the sports steering wheel, gnawing her lower lip. She didn’t want to look desperate and knock on her architect’s door a second time. But she couldn’t sit here all day, either. And she couldn’t stop wondering …

      Why hadn’t he called? Had something happened with Abigail and his idea for a new design? Was he still in town, or had Daniel left without telling her?

      Her heart knocking at her ribs, Elizabeth studied her cell, lying in her purse on the seat alongside of her. She could call Abigail, ask a few subtle questions. Oh, but that seemed beyond lame, too. She and Daniel had spent an amazing day together. He’d said he’d take her away. She couldn’t believe that invitation had been nothing more than pillow talk.

      Or was she as vulnerable—naive—as Chad would have her believe?

      Outside, Brad Price appeared, strolling down Main with new Texas Cattleman Zeke Travers, who, word had it, was also a consultant for Brad’s security firm. On the other side of the street, Addison Harper was holding court with poor Rosaline Jamestown, who glanced over and recognized the car. Sliding down in the driver’s seat, a chill raced over Elizabeth’s skin. Eyes and ears were everywhere. She didn’t care if she was seen with Daniel. To hell with anyone who didn’t like that the Cattleman’s Club was being redefined and updated after a hundred years. But she did not want to be seen chasing after a man. She’d rather never hear