The Illegitimate Heirs: Caleb, Nick & Hunter. Kathie DeNosky

took care of Ortiz Industries’ employee investment program, but he assigned me to advise Mr. Ortiz on his own personal retirement package. Why do you ask?”

      “He wants me to drive down to Roswell tomorrow for a get-acquainted meeting.” Trying to sound nonchalant, Caleb added, “I’ve decided I’ll take you with me.”

      “Me?” Her eyes widened behind her oversize glasses and the panic he saw in their depths reminded him of a deer caught in the headlights of a car. Was the thought of spending time with him that upsetting?

      “Is there a problem, A.J.?”

      “Why? I mean, I can’t possibly—” She suddenly closed her mouth and simply stared at him.

      As he returned her gaze, Caleb did his best to keep his attention on the issue at hand and off her perfectly shaped lips. “I realize this is on the spur of the moment, but I don’t see that we have any other choice. Since I’ve just taken over here, I don’t know diddly-squat about Ortiz or our business with him. And until I’m up to speed on the individual accounts of our clients, I’d rather not run the risk of losing them.”

      His argument made sense to him. He just hoped it sounded reasonable to her.

      Watching her nibble on her lower lip as she mulled over what he’d said, it was all he could do to keep from groaning. Why did he suddenly find her mouth so damned fascinating? Hadn’t he learned a damn thing about professional, career-minded women?

      “What time is the meeting?” she asked.

      Was it his imagination or was there a slight tremor in her voice?

      “Ortiz wants to give me a tour of the manufacturing plant tomorrow afternoon, then have dinner around six or seven.”

      “It would be too late for us to drive back tomorrow evening and I have two phone meetings early the next morning.” She sounded extremely relieved when she added, “I’m sorry, but I really think my going with you would be impossible. We’ve been courting these potential clients for several months and there’s the possibility of losing them if I reschedule the calls.”

      He wasn’t about to give up that easily. “Where are they located?”

      “Mr. Sanchez is in Las Cruces and Mrs. Bailey is in Truth or Consequences.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

      “If I remember my high-school geography, those two places aren’t that far from Roswell,” he said, thinking fast. “Call and tell them we’ll be in their area day after tomorrow and that we’d like to meet with them in person. It’ll show that we’d really like to work for them, as well as free you up to go to Roswell with me. Then we’ll drive back after dinner Thursday evening.” Deciding to beat a hasty retreat before she could find another excuse, he headed for the door. “I’ll come by your place around ten in the morning.”

      “Th-that won’t be necessary,” she said, stopping him. When he turned back, she added, “I have to come in tomorrow morning to tie up a few loose ends. We can leave from here.”

      Caleb could tell she wasn’t happy, but that couldn’t be helped. He wasn’t particularly proud of having to rely on her expertise to keep from looking like a fool in front of a client.

      “Fair enough,” he said, nodding. “I’ll have Geneva make a reservation for tomorrow night in Roswell.”

      “That should be reservations—plural—as in two rooms.”

      “Of course.”

      Heading out the door to speak with their secretary, Caleb couldn’t help but grin. He clearly made A. J. Merrick as nervous as the parents of a four-year-old talking to the preacher after Sunday services.

      The next two days had the potential to prove ex-tremely interesting and in a way he hadn’t counted on. Not only would he get to see how A.J. dealt with clients, he had a feeling he just might see that cool selfcontrol of hers slip, as well.

       Three

      After an uneventful drive down to Roswell, a tour of Ortiz Industries and a highly successful dinner meeting with Mr. Ortiz, all A.J. wanted was the solitude of her motel room and a nice, hot, relaxing bath. Thoroughly exhausted from tossing and turning the night before, she’d spent the entire day in Caleb’s disturbing presence and she was more than ready to put a bit of distance between them.

      “Why don’t you check in for us while I get the bags from the back of the truck?” he asked as he stopped the pickup in front of the motel entrance.

      She opened the passenger side door. “I assume the rooms are under the firm’s name?”

      “Yep. Geneva said she reserved the last two rooms in Ros—” He stopped abruptly when a family of glowin-the-dark aliens with oval-shaped heads and big, unblinking eyes walked past the front of the truck and got into a blue minivan.

      “This is festival week,” A.J. explained. She couldn’t help but laugh at the incredulous expression on his handsome face. “You’ll probably see a lot of that sort of thing.”

      “I saw the banners when we drove through town.” He shook his head. “But I didn’t realize they went to extremes with the alien thing.”

      Getting out of the truck, she nodded. “It’s the anniversary of the Roswell Incident. People from all over the world converge on the town the first part of July to attend seminars, share the experiences they’ve had with extraterrestrials and participate in a variety of activities, including a costume contest.”

      Caleb chuckled when another alien, this one with tentacles and silver eyes, waved as he drove past in a yellow Volkswagen Beetle. “Sounds like we’re lucky Geneva found rooms for us.”

      “I’m really surprised she did on such short notice.”

      A.J. closed the truck door and, breathing a sigh of relief that she’d soon have a little time to herself, entered the motel lobby and approached the desk clerk. “I’m with Skerritt and Crowe Financial Consultants. I believe you have a couple of rooms for us.”

      The smiling teenage girl behind the counter snapped her gum, then blew a bubble as she checked her com-puter screen. “Actually, we have you down for one room with a couple of beds.”

      “There must be a mistake,” A.J. said, shaking her head. She knew Geneva Wallace was far too capable to make that big of an error. “Could you please doublecheck the reservations?”

      Shrugging, the girl keyed in the information again. A moment later, she looked up, shaking her head. “It shows only one room reserved for the Skerritt and Crowe folks. But like I said, it does have two beds.”

      A.J.’s temples began to throb. “Do you have another room available?”

      The girl smiled apologetically. “Sorry. This week’s been booked solid for months. In fact, if we hadn’t had a late cancellation, we wouldn’t have had this room for you.” Snapping her gum, she looked thoughtful. “I’d say the closest motel with rooms available would probably be down in Artesia. And that’s real iffy.”

      “Is there a problem?” Caleb asked, walking up to stand beside A.J.

      “Apparently there’s been a mix-up and they only have one room for us.” She suddenly knew how Dorothy must have felt when the tornado picked her up and she came over the rainbow, crashing down in the land of Oz. “With the festival going on there aren’t any rooms available for miles. It looks like we’ll have to drive on to Las Cruces tonight.”

      To her astonishment, Caleb shook his head. “It’s al-ready dark, we’re both tired and some of the roads be-tween here and there are two-lanes. Driving in unfamiliar territory under those conditions wouldn’t be a good idea.”

      Desperation began to claw at her insides. Had he lost his mind?