The Texan's Contested Claim: The Texan's Contested Claim / The Greek Tycoon's Secret Heir. Katherine Garbera

regarding his company.

      “At the current facilities on the East Coast, we offer a shuttle service from specified locations around the city. Employees who take advantage of the shuttle, and those who ride in a carpool with a minimum of two other employees, receive monetary rewards for their efforts. If I build a complex in Austin, I’ll implement the same policy here.”

      “If?” she repeated. “I thought building here was a foregone conclusion.”

      “Only if I’m able to find a suitable site.”

      “Oh.”

      “Yeah. Oh.”

      Having had enough of his sour disposition, she tightened her hands on the wheel. “Why are you in such a bad mood?”

      He set the GPS on the floorboard at his feet. “I’m not in a bad mood.”

      “Well, you darn sure look like you are.” She held up a hand. “Oh, wait. I forget that expression is normal for you.”

      He nailed her with a look. “Are you purposely trying to tick me off? If so, you’re doing a damn good job.”

      That’s it, she thought angrily and whipped the car to the side of the road. She’d had all she was going to take of his sour attitude. Ramming the gearshift into Park, she spun on the seat to face him. “Don’t try blaming your bad mood on me,” she warned. “You were grumpy when we started out this morning.”

      “Well, maybe if I could get a good night’s sleep, I’d be in a better mood,” he shot back at her.

      “And you’re not sleeping is my fault?”

      “It is if you’re the one responsible for putting that lousy mattress on the bed.”

      Her jaw dropped. “There’s nothing wrong with that mattress! It’s top-of-the-line and almost new.”

      “It sags on one side.”

      “So sleep on the other! Better yet, sleep in a different bed. You leased the entire house. Pick another one to sleep in.”

      “Fine. I want yours.”

      She gaped. “You what?”

      “I want yours. You said I could have my pick.”

      “I didn’t mean mine!”

      “Why not? You said I could have my pick.”

      “Of the rooms you leased,” she informed him.

      “Too late. You already said I could have my pick, and I choose your bed.”

      She fought for patience. “If you want to sleep in one of the other rooms upstairs, fine. You certainly paid for the right to sleep wherever you want.”

      “I certainly did,” he agreed, “and I choose to sleep in your bed.”

      She started to respond, then closed her mouth and narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “You’re just trying to avoid the real issue, aren’t you?”

      “And that would be…?”

      “Kissing me last night. Well, let me tell you something, buddy,” she went on before he could say anything. “It was no big deal. Okay? As far as I’m concerned it’s forgotten. Over. Done with. Never happened.”

      “Oh, really?”

      “Yeah, really. I—”

      Before she could finish, his mouth was on hers, smothering her words. There was no slow buildup to this kiss. His mouth came down hard on hers, forcing her head back against the seat and her pulse into a gallop. She tasted the anger in him, the heat. A split second later his lips softened, sweeping over hers with a seductive slowness that stole her breath, before he nipped at her lower lip and withdrew. She opened her eyes to find he’d settled in his seat again, his gaze on the windshield.

      “Let’s check out the area around Bastrop.”

      She stared, wondering if she’d imagined it all. “B-Bastrop?”

      “Yeah. From the map I was looking at, it appears to be near Austin, yet far enough away that parcels of land are probably still sold by the acre, rather than by the square inch.”

      She straightened and pulled the gearshift into Drive, her hand shaking a bit. “B-Bastrop’s a nice town,” she said, anxious to prove she was as unaffected by the kiss as he seemed to be. “Lots of history and beautiful old homes. I would imagine their tax base is lower than Austin’s, which would be a bonus for your company and whatever employees might choose to live there.”

      He pointed to a convenience store up ahead. “Pull over and I’ll buy a paper, so we can check out what’s for sale.”

      She turned into the parking lot and pulled up alongside the newspaper rack, her pulse rate almost back to normal. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just call a Realtor?”

      “It would,” he agreed, as he climbed from the car, then ducked his head back inside. “Better yet, why don’t I just rent a billboard and announce to the whole world I’m here looking for land?” Muttering under his breath, he slammed the door and strode for the newspaper stand.

      Jerk, she thought resentfully as she watched him feed coins into the slot. His paranoia about keeping his presence in Austin a secret was wearing thin. She could see how it made good business-sense for him to play his cards close to his chest. But wasn’t he carrying this a little far? He never took a step out of the house without those stupid sunglasses. And earlier, when she stopped at the window of a fast-food joint to order sodas, he’d slumped down in the seat and kept his face averted, like he was afraid someone was going to recognize him, which was totally nuts. It wasn’t like he was a movie star or something. He was a businessman, for cripes’ sake! Prior to him coming to the Vista, if she had passed him on the street, she wouldn’t have even given him a second look.

      Unfortunately he chose that moment to bend over to pull a newspaper from the rack, giving her a full view of his nicely shaped butt, and her mouth went dry as dust. Okay, she admitted, wetting her lips. Maybe she would’ve looked twice. But she doubted she would’ve recognized him. And even if she had, it wouldn’t have occurred to her that he was in Austin to buy property. For all she’d know, he could be on vacation. All this hush-hush, top-secret stuff was ridiculous.

      He jumped into the car and slid down in the seat as he slammed the door. “Drive!”

      She blinked in surprise. “Excuse me?”

      He lifted his head slightly to peer out the rear window, then dropped back down. “I think the guy at the gas pump recognized me.”

      “So?”

      “So get the hell out of here!” he shouted.

      She stomped on the accelerator and careened onto the highway, sending the rearend of the car fishtailing crazily.

      “Is he following us?” he asked.

      She looked in the rearview mirror and saw that the truck had indeed pulled onto the highway behind them. “I don’t know that he’s following us, but he is behind us.”

      “Speed up.”

      Though she wasn’t sure the rental she was driving could outrun the truck, she pressed down harder on the accelerator.

      “Is he still there?” he asked after a minute.

      She glanced in the rearview mirror again. “Yeah. About four car-lengths behind.”

      “Faster.”

      She shot him a look. “Are you crazy? I’m already going thirty over the speed limit.”

      “So go fifty! Just lose him.”

      She glanced in the rearview mirror again. “Uh-oh,” she murmured, and lifted her foot off the accelerator.

      “What