Texas Love Song. AlTonya Washington

okay, Av,” he soothed while leading her to the door. Before leaving, Avra caught Khouri sending a narrowed meaningful look toward his father. Basil barely sent him a wave, before turning his chair to face the windows lining the rear wall of the room.

      Avra was shaking noticeably by the time they were back out in the hall. Khouri’s soft tone and reassuring rubs to her back had her measurably calm soon after.

      “Mr. C?” he queried when he and Avra were seated in the small waiting area outside the office.

      Avra studied her hands smothered in one of Khouri’s and took solace in the comfort it instilled. “Wade Cornelius. He was my mentor here right out of college. He was a very respected writer—more than Pop even once they got the magazine up and running.” She smiled. “Daddy was more interested in the business end of things—left the writing to Mr. C.” Covering her face in her hands, she inhaled for a few seconds and then continued. “He was a wonderful man. I learned a lot from him.” She sniffed. “That was back when I was naive enough to think I had what it took to be a hard-nosed journalist.”

      Khouri listened intently, cupping Avra’s cheek when she wept. “You gonna be okay, honey?”

      “Sorry.” She sniffed again frowning at herself for losing reign over her emotions. “Didn’t mean to get sappy.”

      “Stop,” Khouri whispered, using his thumb to brush a tear from her cheek. “You’re entitled. Can I do anything?”

      Avra laughed amid her weeping. “Just don’t tell me you can’t take over the Melendez ad account. I’m definitely not in the mood to deal with that or anything else heavy right now,” she said, watching as her little brother graced her with one of the adorably guileless smiles that made her heart melt even when she was mad enough to spit nails at him.

      “No sweat,” he said.

      Avra brushed his face. “Go handle your business.” She kept her smile in place until he was gone.

      * * *

      Setha had a full evening planned that night. It was to take place right there before the TV in her sitting room.

      “What a lucky girl I am.” She sighed, grimly eyeing the two hefty folders on the pine coffee table before her. She’d gone through the Melendez ad file several times, but would take another look once more for good measure before tomorrow morning’s meeting.

      The file that held her full attention just then was the one simply labeled with a question mark. Everything inside had proven to be one big riddle after another. Setha fingered the pink message slip that had started it all.

      “What now?” she asked herself. Her “stalker” had effectively ruined the meeting she had hoped to have with Raquel Ross at her club. It was a good thing she hadn’t alerted the woman beforehand, Setha thought. She wondered whether she should risk another meeting and then decided it could be a moot point after tomorrow.

      The entire reason for visiting the club had been to get a sense of the Ross family—to discover what side of the fence they were really on.

      Hmph. Setha leaned forward to brace her elbows to her knees. Would she even know how to make the distinction? Lately, it’d been very difficult for her to tell the good guys from the bad.

      That thought made her think of her rescuer from the night in the alley. Definitely a good guy. She hadn’t even told him “thank you” when she ran from his car….

      She was lost in her thoughts until something caught her ear from the news broadcast on TV. Frowning, she moved aside the folds of the chiffon robe in search for the remote which rested beneath her rump on the sofa cushions.

      “Come on…” she muttered, clicking the rewind button on the DVR.

      “…was found dead in his condo. Police have not determined cause of death at this time. Wade Cornelius had a well-respected reputation for fair and intelligent reporting. He will be missed. Once again, Wade Cornelius, dead at…”

      “Oh, my God,” Setha breathed.

      Chapter 3

      “Are you sure it’s all right?” Setha was asking the next morning when she stood in the executive hall of the Ross Review.

      “It’s just fine, honey,” Marta Leonard drawled, already leading the way to her boss’s office. “Khouri’s just finishing up with another matter—he’ll be along directly. Already asked that you be shown in here to wait ’til he gets back. Coffee, honey?”

      “Oh, uh…no, no, thank you. I’m fine.” Setha put down her things and smiled.

      When Marta was gone, Setha regretted turning down the coffee but knew it was for the best. That indulgence would definitely be a mistake since her stomach was already a barrel of nerves.

      Following the news broadcast on Wade Cornelius’s death, she needed something different to focus on—to settle her mind. Reviewing more of the lurid shots for the proposed Melendez ads wasn’t the ticket. Instead, she decided to do some research on her new business associate. As a result, her nerves rewound again quite nicely.

      The second eldest and only son in a family of four kids, Khouri Ross had a reputation that could epitomize grace under fire. He was known for being wickedly intelligent, very soft-spoken. It was rumored that, when he walked into a meeting, folks waited for his input and tended to agree. Additionally, and probably the asset which fueled the power of the others, were the looks encasing the package.

      And what a package. Setha recalled the pictures she’d uncovered. The man was definitely…to-die-for. Tall, he had the sort of lean powerful frame that made any piece of clothing look good. Deep-set eyes, she couldn’t make out the color only that they were bright and striking. Then there was the strong jaw and cleft chin… She wondered if the pictures did him justice?

      She’d lived among gorgeous men all her life. It went without saying that she was well aware how difficult they could be if they were vain enough. If Khouri Ross gave her half the grief her brothers were capable of, this business association would be yet another level of hell in her once quiet and easy life.

      Shaking off what she could of her nervousness, Setha began a stroll of the office. Smoothing clammy hands across the seat of her putty-colored low-rise skirt, she more closely observed her surroundings. Sadly, the stroll did little to settle her nerves.

      On top of to-die-for handsome, intelligent and respected, she could also add “accomplished” to the list. The mahogany shelving which lined the walls abounded with plaques, trophies and pictures of Khouri Ross accepting awards…and looking very nice while he did it.

      What really caught her eyes though were the magazine covers. How had this man escaped her radar? Because you’re a party-dodging workaholic who’ll trust a man to friendship but nothing more.

      Setha blinked. “Shut up,” she told the silent, responding voice. Stepping closer to the center shelf, she took a closer look at one of the magazine covers. In actuality, it was a calendar cover. Some sort of eligible bachelor thing for one of the city’s numerous big-name charities. She only recognized it because two of her brothers were in it. Setha was more interested in scanning Khouri Ross’s page.

      Obviously the calendar had little to do with assisting one in finding the day’s date. Setha’s full mouth curved into a knowing smile, observing the sexy beefcakes inside—her brothers excluded. She gave a playful grimace at their photos and flipped to August and Khouri’s shot.

      Every entry was created as a centerfold and Setha took great pleasure in extending the sheet to its full length. She was letting out a low whistle in reference to the devastating image before her eyes, when the life-size version walked through the door.

      Khouri softly cleared his throat.

      The low rumbling did the trick.

      The calendar fell from suddenly weak fingers when Setha spotted the man twenty feet across the room.