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“I’m glad you’re here with me tonight, Isabelle. Whatever the reason.”

“Tony, try to keep an employer-employee view. That’s all it can be between us. Unless, of course, you decide to become a marrying man.” She suspected that a woman looking for a husband was the last person Tony would want to spend time with.

“I’m not a marrying man. But we can still enjoy an evening out,” he replied smoothly.

Isabelle wished she could remain as cool as he was. “I want a family, so our association outside of work isn’t a good idea.”

“We’ll see about that one,” he said, smiling at her. “I know you know how to enjoy life. I have a very good memory.”

Dear Reader,

A Lone Star Love Affair touches on one of my favourite topics—families. I’ve always been deeply involved with my family. Therefore, family themes run through many of my stories, with parents, children, siblings and other relatives included in the plots.

This time the goals that many have of wanting a family or hoping for success in business are the driving forces of the hero and heroine. In both situations, the goals are family-oriented, coming out of each person’s background.

Beautiful, blonde Isabelle Smith is captivated by Tony Ryder, a dynamic, handsome multimillionaire who is driven to become a billionaire by forty. There’s no room in Tony’s life for marriage or children until he achieves that goal. Tony in turn is dazzled by Isabelle and wants her in his life, but on his terms.

With an overbearing father and a sister he protects and cares about, Tony thinks his goal is absolutely necessary for happiness. Because of her family, Isabelle’s motivations clash totally with Tony’s, and both fight the attraction they feel every time they are together.

A Lone Star Love Affair is a Texas story with the pitfalls, upheavals and problems two people work through because of love.

Thank you for letting me share this story with you.

Sara Orwig

A Lone Star

Love Affair

Sara Orwig

AND

Falling for

the Princess

Sandra Hyatt

www.millsandboon.co.uk

A Lone Star

Love Affair

Sara Orwig

About the Author

SARA ORWIG lives in Oklahoma. She has a patient husband who will take her on research trips anywhere from big cities to old forts. She is an avid collector of Western history books. With a master’s degree in English, Sara has written historical romance, mainstream fiction and contemporary romance. Books are beloved treasures that take Sara to magical worlds, and she loves both reading and writing them.

With thanks to Stacy Boyd, Melissa Senate,

Shana Smith and Maureen Walters.

One

Tony Ryder couldn’t suppress his jubilation.

It had taken years for him to acquire Morris Enterprises. Years—plus being in the right place at the right time.

Late at night, he had stepped off the elevator on the nineteenth floor of the twenty-story glass Morris building in downtown Dallas. Wall lights shed a softened glow in the empty corridor as he passed open doors. His father had made offers over the years for this company and never succeeded in acquiring it. Now one giant coup would make his controlling father back off. That made all the hours of work more than worth his efforts. Tony was growing as wealthy as his father and finally gaining the man’s respect.

Tony had grown more pleased with the offices from the lobby to the top floor. Strolling the empty hallway, he paused to look at framed awards mounted on the beige walls. Farther along was a glass-enclosed case of trophies for graphic arts achievements. He noticed the same director’s name on several awards and trophies. Moving on, he passed through open doors into a darkened office and switched on the light. He was in the graphic arts sector—a part of the company that he would change drastically. He intended to retain a few of the graphic arts people and offer the others generous severance packages, absorbing the remaining employees into his own public relations department.

He shut the light and continued along the silent, dimly lit hall, turning at the next open door into an anteroom. Light spilled inside from a doorway. Crossing the anteroom, Tony entered another spacious, elegant office. He stopped abruptly as a blonde looked up.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, surprised and curious to find someone working after ten. His first thought was that he was looking at his most gorgeous employee. As she stood, his gaze drifted swiftly over her. In an all-business navy suit and matching silk blouse, she looked as if she had just arrived at work instead of putting in extra hours. Her blond hair was secured in a roll on the back of her head. He had the strange feeling of meeting her before, but he knew he would have remembered her. A sizzling current startled him. He was caught in wide blue eyes that darkened and mesmerized. Silence stretched until he realized they were entrapped in each other’s gaze. When she touched a paper on her desk, the spell broke.

“You’re working late,” he remarked.

“I believe you, too, are working late,” she replied.

He stepped forward to extend his hand across her desk. “Sorry, I’m Tony Ryder.”

“Isabelle Smith,” she said. “I know who you are.” Her hand was slender, warm, and should have been like other feminine handshakes. Instead, the electric current he had first experienced just at the sight of her, magnified. Startled by his intense reaction, he focused intently on her, momentarily immobilized by his reactions.

“I’m here because I had something to finish. You’re visiting rather late,” she said. “Looking over your new acquisition?”

While her voice was neutral, her eyes were cool and assessing. He sensed she did not approve of him.

“You’re right. And you’re the Morris graphic arts department director.”

“You’ve either done some homework about the business you just bought, or read the sign on my door.” She walked around the desk and motioned to a chair. “Please have a seat,” she said, taking a leather chair that was turned to face him. As she moved closer, he caught a whiff of exotic perfume. “I don’t know whether you actually get involved or have staff who do that for you.”

“I have staff, but I also want to be knowledgeable about my investments,” he said as he sat near her. She crossed her legs and he couldn’t resist one swift glance that made him want to look back for a thorough assessment. She had long, shapely legs. “I’m involved in whatever I own. What’s so urgent to keep you working this late when you know your department will be split up?”

“So the rumors are true,” she remarked, the frostiness in her tone increasing. “I intend to finish a few projects because we’ve already signed contracts. That won’t change with the new management. I feel I need to wind things up before you actually take charge.”

“You say that as if doomsday approaches.”

She shrugged a slender shoulder. “That seems to be your approach to your acquisitions. I’ve done my homework and you have a reputation.”

“Do I now?” he asked, amused. “Tell me what this reputation is.”

“Ambitious. Driven. What I might label ‘smash and grab.’”

He tried to bite back a smile. “I never thought of my actions in such a manner.”

“I’m sure I’m not winning kudos with my new employer, but I suspect it really doesn’t matter what I say. I imagine you’ve already made decisions about the direction you will go.”

“How would you describe yourself? You work far into the night. You’re a director. Ambitious? Driven?”

She smiled faintly. “Touché.”

“So we are both workaholics—there are rewards. Regarding the future of the company, I change only what I feel needs changing. As a director, you’ll retain a position if that relieves your mind.”

“‘A position’—but not necessarily a director? I know changes are coming. I have a feeling you’ve looked into my back ground.”

“So is your family patiently waiting at home?” he asked, having already noticed the absence of a wedding band. Her manicured nails were long. Everything about her looked precise, immaculate, professional. Keeping a barrier around herself, she was reserved with him. She made no effort to hide her resentment of his purchase of the company.

“I’m single. You make the news enough for me to know that you are, too.”

“The single life lends itself to becoming a workaholic. There are far less distractions.”

“You view a family as a distraction.” Even though she spoke in the same tone, her disapproval had obviously escalated.

“At this point in life, family is not for me, because I’m wound up in business. Evidently, not for you, either.”

She gave him a frosty smile.

They were lightly sparring, yet he experienced a scalding attraction that she seemed to also feel—an odd combination he had never encountered. Challenges were always interesting and she was definitely one.

“Do you often work this late?” he asked, enjoying talking to her. She was a beautiful woman, yet she wore the suit as if it were armor, hiding her figure. He rarely received such a cool reception from a gorgeous, single woman, much less one who was his employee. He couldn’t resist the urge to try to break through the puzzling wall she maintained. Was it all men? Or just him, because he had bought out her employer?

“Occasionally,” she replied, tilting her head. “Do you usually work this late?”

“If necessary. I haven’t seen the building and this is a good time to wander freely. It surprised me to find you working.”

“You bought this company sight unseen?”

“The building, offices and layout weren’t significant factors. It’s the people, the departments and what Morris Enterprises is involved in. I’m sure you know that.”

“Yet you’ll change the people and the departments.” Her voice held a touch of frost. Otherwise she sat still, poised, looking as if she discussed an ad campaign.

“Some things will change. I’ve just acquired three highly successful hotel chains, plus a restaurant chain and a trucking business. This will grow my business. Even as we absorb this company, I think we can enlarge Morris Enterprises. You’ve built this department significantly—Morris has grown since you came on board. You have an impressive record,” he said, recalling being briefed on Morris executives’ performance reports. He’d decided then that she held potential, but he would move her down the corporate ladder because she would be going into a larger company. In spite of the compliment, he could not get a smile from her.

“Thank you. No one seems to know when you’ll actually take over and begin changes.”

“Soon. When I do, I’ll interview the executives first,” he said, unable to resist another swift glance at her legs.

“This encounter can almost count as my interview. You’ve asked some direct questions and I’m certain you’ve formed an opinion.”

She was direct, straight-forward and not the least intimidated to be talking to the new owner of her company. She continued, coolly composed, yet along with their matter-of-fact conversation, he felt an undercurrent of awareness.

Amused again, he shook his head. “No, you’ll have your formal interview. This is just a late-night chat, nothing more.”

“Why do I think you’ve already made your decisions?” Big blue eyes stabbed into him.

“I can have an open mind. On the other hand—can you? Morris sold the company to me. I didn’t do any arm-twisting.” He couldn’t resist another brief glance at her long legs. What would she be like when she let down all the barriers?

“You came to him with an offer he couldn’t refuse and you knew he has been on the verge of retirement for the past three years.” This time she didn’t hide the frost. Her voice conveyed a cold anger.

“Can you blame me? This is a first-rate company.”

She looked away and he studied her profile, long thick eyelashes, flawless peaches-and-cream skin, a straight nose—looks that would be unforgettable. Again it crossed his mind that they had met before, yet how could he forget her? If he had met her, the recollection would come.

“If you’ll excuse me, it’s late. I think I’ll close for tonight,” she said, standing.

Amused that he was being dismissed by her, as he stood, he asked, “Can I give you a ride home?”

She shook her head. “Thanks, no. I have my car.”

“I’ll see you out. I’ve been all through the building.” He was unaccustomed to being brushed off by a woman where there was an obvious chemistry between them.

She smiled. “You don’t have to see me to my car. This wasn’t a date.”

“I know I don’t, Ms. Smith.”

“It’s Isabelle.”

“And I’m Tony to my employees,” he said. “I’ll walk out with you. Then I’ll know where to park when I come in Monday.”

“I think you can find the parking spot that will have Reserved on a placard in front of the best space in the lot,” she said.

He watched while she shut down her laptop and placed it in a bag that she shouldered. She pulled keys from the bag, switched off a desk light and turned toward the door. When he blocked her path, she looked up, wide-eyed.

“I wish now we’d met under other circumstances. You’re definitely annoyed with me,” he said.

“It won’t matter. You have many interests and a sprawling enterprise that has absorbed this one. We’ll rarely see each other. I hated to see Morris sold. You can’t blame me for that.”

“I think it’s more than the sale,” he said quietly, standing close enough to smell the perfume she wore. Her blue eyes were incredible, crystal clear, deep blue, thickly lashed. Glacial at the moment. When his gaze lowered to her mouth, he inhaled as he viewed full, heart-shaped lips, a rosy mouth that looked soft.

As he looked, her lips parted and he glanced into her eyes again. For an instant her guard had fallen and the look he caught was warm, receptive. It was gone in a flash as she gave a tiny shake while she passed him.

“It’s very late, Tony …”

Against all human resources training, he reached out and touched her arm. “I don’t have a policy against employees seeing each other off the job, dating, getting engaged or marrying.”

Again that surge of electricity sizzled to his toes as she looked up sharply with a flash of fire in her eyes. But just as suddenly, the fire died and whatever she had been about to say was gone.

“Where I’m concerned, it won’t matter.”

“No deference to your employer?” he asked quietly, fighting an urge to ask her for a drink.

“Tony, it’s getting late,” she whispered, and broke away. He had seen the pink rise in her cheeks. Why was she fighting him and so angry with him? He hadn’t moved her out of her job yet.

Puzzled over the degree of her animosity, he walked with her to the elevators. He pushed a button before she could reach it and they rode down in silence.

He could feel the barriers back in place, the chill in the air between them.

“I saw your ad campaign for the Royal Garden chain. It was well thought out and successful. Bookings jumped after the television ads started,” he said.

“Thank you from my staff and me. They did an excellent job.”

“Do you ever take full credit for anything?” he asked, looking at silky strands of blond hair wound in a roll and wondering how she would look with her hair unpinned.

“If I’m the only one to work on it. Otherwise, I don’t deserve to take all of the credit.”

“Will there ever be a time you can see me in any way other than your employer?”

“Of course. If I leave Morris, or if you do,” she answered sweetly, and he smiled.

When the elevator doors opened, he stepped back to let her exit. He fell into step beside her and they both greeted the night security guard before going outside. Tony crossed the parking lot with her to her car.

“I hope you give my company a chance,” he said. “I have the feeling you’ve already formed an opinion and have one foot out the door.”

“Not yet,” she said, as she clicked her key to unlock her car. While he held her door, she slid behind the wheel.

“I’ll see you next at the reception we’re having for the executives Thursday evening. You will attend, won’t you?”

“Certainly. I believe it’s mandatory unless one is in the hospital.”

“We all need to meet one another.”

She gave him a doubting look as if she didn’t believe a word he said.

“Good night, Isabelle,” he said, wishing he could prolong the time with her.

“Good night,” she replied.

When she started the engine, he walked to his car. As she drove past, her profile was to him and she never glanced around.

“Isabelle Smith,” he said, mulling over her name and the past hour. The only things he knew for certain were that she didn’t like him and she resented his buying out Morris.

He remembered another Smith he had known. She had been a freshman or sophomore in college and he had met her at a party when he had been on campus for a seminar. Her name hadn’t been Isabelle and she had been a carefree, fun-loving, sexy woman. It had been an instant hot attraction that ended in a passionate night together even though she had been a virgin. A blue-eyed blonde with a resemblance to Isabelle Smith, but only a slight similarity and one he dismissed as swiftly as it came to mind. Partying with him, Jessie Smith had been wild, friendly and filled with fun. She had constantly smiled until passion replaced her smiles. He hadn’t forgotten her and he didn’t think he ever would. He couldn’t recall her major or where she was from. Even though he had wanted to, he had never tried to contact her because she would have been too big a distraction in his life at the time. His focus had been on building his fortune. She had faded from his life, but never from his memory. That had been an unforgettable night. There was enough of a resemblance in coloring and name to give him the feeling he had met Isabelle Smith before tonight, but she definitely was no Jessie Smith.

His cell phone beeped, indicating a text from his sister.

As he climbed into his sports car, he paused to read her message. In minutes he headed home. When he entered his neighborhood, he slowed, driving beneath tall trees with thick trunks in one of the oldest areas in Dallas. Bare limbs interlocked overhead, bordering sweeping lawns of two- and three-story mansions. A high, wrought-iron fence surrounded Tony’s property and with a code he opened iron gates. As he wound along the wide driveway, he saw a familiar sports car parked at the front.

He pulled into his garage and entered his house, going straight through to open the front door. A woman with a mass of curly black hair and thickly lashed dark brown eyes matching his stepped out of the parked car and dashed toward his door. She crossed the illuminated wide porch.

He closed the door behind his younger sister. “Sydney, what brings you on the run at this hour?” he asked, smiling at her. He loved his sister.

“Dad. He wanted to see me tonight. I need to talk to you, Tony.”

“Sure. Let’s go to the family room. Want something to drink?”

“Cranberry juice if you have it.”

Several small lights came on automatically as they entered a large room that held comfortable leather furniture, a bar and a large fireplace. Tony crossed to the bar to get a cold beer for himself and juice for his sister.

As soon as he had a fire blazing, he picked up his beer and sat on a chair facing his sister, who sipped her juice. “Okay, let’s hear it. What’s Dad done now?” Tony asked.

“Tony, he’s pressuring me to dump Dylan,” she said, focusing worried brown eyes on her brother.

“So? Sydney, it’s your life. Do what you want,” Tony answered.

“It’s not that easy.” She looked away as if lost in thought. Her gaze returned to Tony. “Dad’s threatened me. If I marry Dylan, he’ll disinherit me.”

“Dammit. That’s drastic. He must have talked to my friend Jake’s dad who held such a threat over Jake’s head. Our dads are old friends and both control freaks. That’s where Dad got this idea of threatening you. It worked with Jake because he married.”

“That’s not all. Dad will stop all support and I’m on my own to finish medical school. I may have to make a choice between med school and Dylan. If I have to choose, Dylan wins. Worst of all, Dad will cut me out of the family completely. ‘Don’t come home’ and all that.”

“Mom won’t go along with any such ultimatum,” Tony said, losing his temper with his interfering father.

“She already has. For once, Mom sat in with us when he talked to me.”

“That’s serious,” Tony remarked, giving his sister his full attention. “I don’t think I’ve ever had Mom step in to back up Dad. I’m shocked.”

“Mom doesn’t like Dylan. She thinks he’s a nobody and will embarrass the family. Even worse, he’s an artist who had to put himself through college by relying on scholarships. It doesn’t matter to them that his grades are excellent or what it took to accomplish sending himself.”

“Graphic art is a respectable career,” Tony answered, thinking about Isabelle, although it had been years since he’d had any worries about his family having to accept a woman in his life. “This is partially why I work like crazy. He’s beginning to back off with me—especially since I acquired Morris Enterprises—because I’m going to make more money than he has and he can see it. Syd, I’m finally getting respect out of him.”

“I doubt if I can ever say that. I thought if I made it through medical school, I would, but I don’t think that any longer. If you’re sympathetic to me at all, it will only increase the tension between you and Mom and Dad. As for Dylan, he just isn’t from our circle of friends and his family is low income with blue- collar jobs. I’m afraid Dad will try every way he can to give Dylan difficulty. He’ll try to sabotage Dylan getting work, or staying with a company. He will try to keep him out of any family gatherings.”

“I don’t think so, Syd. He wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Tony, really,” she snapped, glaring at her brother.

“You’ll know in time. As for the other, I’m one-quarter of this family and I’m not cutting you out, so you can see me on holidays.”

“If you’re even in the country. Thank you for offering, though.”

“And don’t worry about med school. I can support you right now. I have the money and can easily and gladly do it. Just tell me how much and I’ll write the first check tonight,” Tony said, feeling as protective of his sister as ever. Seven years older than Sydney, he had spent his life looking out for her and being a buffer between his parents and her. They had always been close.

“I don’t want you to do that. I didn’t call you to get you to finance me.”

“I can afford it. I want to. End of argument.”

“Oh, Tony,” she said, her eyes filling with tears as she jumped to her feet to run and hug him. “You are the best brother in the whole world.”

“I can support you without missing the money.” He set down his beer. “I’ll get a check.”

“You don’t need to now. Dad hasn’t done anything yet.”

“Don’t wait until he does something. Let me give you a check and you put this money away. Open a new bank account Dad knows nothing about with a bank where no one knows him. This is a big enough city that you can get away from Dad’s scrutiny. The minute he cuts you off, you let me know and I’ll take up supporting you. In the meantime, you’ll have this to fall back on if you need it. I’ll be right back.”

She wiped her eyes. “You really are the best brother ever.”

He left to get a check, filling it out and returning to take it to her. She was back in the chair, her long legs tucked beneath her. When Tony handed her the check, she looked up with wide eyes. “Tony, this is enormous. I don’t need money like this yet.”

“Take it and do what I told you. This way you can open that new account and you’ll have money any time you need it.”

“I can’t take this much.”

“Syd,” he said sternly, giving her a look, and suddenly she smiled, folding the check.

“Thank you, best brother in the whole world.”

“You’re welcome,” he remarked dryly. “I’d talk to Dad, but we both know it will do no good. He’s stubborn and he’s a control freak. The only thing that Dylan can ever do to wring respect from Dad is what I’m doing—make as much money as Dad. I had a running start with influential connections, a top-notch education and family money. Dylan has none of that.”

“I know. He can never make the money Dad did, but I don’t care.”

“Have you told Dylan?”

“Not yet, but I will. I’ll miss my family, but at least you’re not cutting me out. It’s getting bad between Mom, Dad and me.”

“Sorry, Syd. Dad has really focused on you. For now, it’s you and not me.”

“He won’t bother you. I think you’ve thrown him for a loop with this latest acquisition. He wanted that chain for years.” She was quiet for a moment.

Then Tony said, “Since he found out about Morris, he hasn’t interfered in my life. I don’t think he ever expected me to make as much money as he does.”

“I wish I could and get him to stop meddling,” she said. “But my calling is in the medical field, not business. I can’t make the money I’d need to gain his respect and stop his interference.”

Tony squeezed her shoulder. “Do you really love Dylan?”

She turned wide brown eyes on her brother. “Yes. You’ve asked me before. Each time I tell you yes, I’m more certain and my love has grown stronger. I don’t care about the inheritance.

We’ll get along. I have faith in Dylan. His grades were tops. He has an excellent job with a big company and hopes someday to go into business for himself. Dad says Dylan is a nobody. Mom and Dad both want me to marry one of those boys I’ve grown up with, Paul, Jason, Will. I’m not in love with any of them. I don’t want to marry them and they bore me.” She waved her fingers at Tony. “Mom and Dad would like you to marry Emma or Darcy.”

“The day the sun rises in the west,” he remarked. “The folks haven’t said anything about that to me for several years. This past year Dad’s gotten quiet on all fronts.”

“You’re surpassing him in business and he never, ever expected that to happen. You can thank me, too, for taking their attention.”

“I definitely thank you.”

“I know Mom and Dad mean what they say. They both want us to have ‘society marriages.’ But I love Dylan and I’m going to marry him.”

“Let Dylan know what Dad has threatened. Fill him in so he knows exactly what it means. If Dylan still wants to marry you, then he’s been warned. Dylan seems to truly love you from all you’ve told me. I trust your judgment with him. The more he knows the more he’ll be prepared to deal with whatever our father does.”

“Tony, why do we have parents like this?”

“Look at my friends and their interfering dads—Jake and Gabe Benton, Nick Rafford. Dad’s no worse than theirs. When we were growing up, their interference was effective. Now, it’s not.”

“Thank heavens! I don’t want him running my life,” she said. “I’m meeting Dylan in thirty minutes, so I need to go, but I just had to talk to you.”

“Call whenever you want. You know I’m always here for you.”

“Thank goodness,” she said. “You always stand by me in a crisis and you’ve been there when I’m hurt.”

Tony smiled at her. When he could, he protected her from their parents’ interference, but it was impossible to always deflect their attention.

She finished her juice and jumped to her feet. “I better run. Thanks for listening. I feel so much better with your encouragement and support.”

“Sure. I’ll need yours sometime.”

She gave him a smile. “That will be the day. Whatever they throw at you, you manage to overcome. Tony, thank you so, so much.”

“Forget it. You’re there for me. You come talk whenever you want,” he said, draping his arm around her shoulders and giving her a light hug.

She smiled up at him, then her expression changed. “Tony, they’ll try to get you to sever ties with me.”

“Doesn’t matter. You know I’ll never do that.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“Syd, I would think Dylan knows the graphic artists in the city. He probably knows the top one with Morris. Her name is Isabelle Smith.”

“I’ve met her at parties Dylan and I have attended. I don’t really know her except to say hi. We’ve talked a little. From what Dylan has said, she’s very good and he admires her work. They’re friends because of their mutual interest in art. Now she works for you. She’s gorgeous,” Sydney said, her eyes dancing. “Thinking of dating an employee?”

“I’m allowed. I’m just curious because they are both in the same field.”

Sydney laughed. “I’ll ask Dylan about her. Maybe sometime the four of us can go to dinner.”

“Syd—” he said in a threatening voice, and they both laughed.

“Watch out. You’ll get Dad on your case if you start seeing an artist. Actually, you won’t. I think you’ve stopped him cold as long as you don’t lose the fortune you’ve made.”

“It’s a damn big relief. You stop worrying so much. You and Dylan can weather Dad’s interference. If you’re really in love, it won’t matter what Dad does.”

“I hope not. He has a lot of influence.”

At her car Jake held the door. “Don’t pay too much attention to our parents. When Christmas comes, it may be a whole different story.”

“If it’s not, I can live with it. I can’t live with losing you.”

He smiled. “You’ll get along. And I’m always here for you. Take care, Syd.”

“Sure. Thanks for the check, but mostly thank you for being the brother you are.”

As he entered the mansion, his thoughts returned to earlier and Isabelle Smith. He wanted to see her again. He definitely would have an interview with her. Since he’d acquired Morris, three executives had resigned. He guessed from her frosty manner that she was going to resign, too. It was a plus-minus prospect. He wanted her to stay. On the other hand, if she didn’t, it might be less complicated to see her socially.

Now he was looking forward to Thursday evening’s reception more than before.

Two

Isabelle gripped the steering wheel tightly. Her insides knotted. Tony Ryder was a page out of her past. He obviously had not remembered her, and nothing about her had jogged his memory. A night she wished she could forget. The most passionate night of her life, and one that she had never been able to understand.

A singular time in which she had acted in a totally uncustomary fashion. Had it been Tony who had triggered her responses? The spring night? The looming end of the semester? She could never account for her actions to herself.

One thing remained the same—the white-hot, sizzling attraction experienced by both of them. Even though she had tried to keep from responding in even the slightest manner to his magnetism tonight, she’d failed. He had felt the same witchery, revealing his responses in small ways.

His riveting looks and commanding presence made him larger-than-life to her. It was impossible to see him in any ordinary manner. When they were together, she could feel the rising heat they generated. The man probably went through life getting everything he wanted. Between his money, his looks, his background, his sharp mind—how could he fail in any undertaking?

She wanted him out of her life and she definitely wanted away from him. She hoped she’d have a new job and be gone from Morris without Tony having a clue who she was. No way did she want to work for Tony Ryder. Tony was clearly not into commitment and she was. She had read about him on business pages. He was a workaholic and obviously avoided long-term relationships. As she approached each birthday now, her yearning for a family and a love she could trust increased. She wanted a lifelong relationship while Tony did not have even long-term relationships.

She had told Tony she would attend the company party, but now she had second thoughts.

Finally at home, Isabelle turned on Beethoven, showered and changed into pajamas, and poured a tall glass of cold milk. She couldn’t shake thoughts of Tony and their encounter tonight. Tony Ryder was even more handsome and appealing than he had been the night she had met him when she had been in college.

How could he forget someone he had slept with? It had been such a passionate night. She grew warmer just thinking about it before making an effort to put those memories firmly out of mind.

Of all people to buy out Morris Enterprises.

Mr. Morris had planned to work four more years and then sell the company when Tony had come along with a dream offer. How she wished Tony had found other interests. Four more years with Morris would have been great. Now her future was uncertain. She had to start fresh with a new company. She would lose clients and accounts she knew well.

When she had started at Morris, she had thought the company would never change hands. The original shipping business had started with the trucking company in the 1920s. In 1946, Morris opened the first hotel. Within two years it had become a Texas chain, and in a few more years, a national chain. As the company had continued to grow, the word with employees was that the Morrises would never sell. Until the current Morris, whose only son was immersed in the Beltway political scene. After Morris’s daughter married a jet-setting Frenchman, she no longer had interest in the family business.

Change happened, especially nowadays when companies changed hands with the right offer. Probably due to her awards, the recognition she had received for achievements in her field, plus the large number of companies she had dealt with because of her job with Morris, she had three excellent job offers to consider.

Thursday night she would put in an appearance, speak to Mr. Morris, as well as those she was close to at Morris, and then leave. She didn’t care to schmooze with Tony.

She sat down at the kitchen table with her milk and the file of papers from businesses that had made her offers. She had them in order of preference with first choice Tralear Hotels, Incorporated, the hotel chain where Vernon Irwin, the former president of Morris, was going. Vernon wanted her, as well as five other Morris employees, to move with him and he had made her a highly tempting offer.

She had to get away from Morris before Tony realized who she was.

When she went to bed, she had dreams about Tony Ryder. One of her first thoughts on waking in the faintly gray dawn—would Tony remember who she was? Even more unsettling—how would she say no to him when she remembered what it was like to be with him?

On Thursday, Tony entered the luxurious reception room on the top floor of the Morris building. A piano player provided background music and a buffet of hors d’oeuvres were on tables scattered along three walls. A crowd had already gathered. As his eyes swept the room, disappointment ruled, because he did not see Isabelle.

He spotted the table with Seymour Morris and Vernon Irwin, who had already taken another job as president of Tralear Hotels, Incorporated, a fast-growing hotel chain. Three vice presidents who were still on the Morris payroll were also at the table. Casually looking for Isabelle, Tony crossed the room to greet the former CEO and each executive.

“Join us, Tony. You can humor an old man and sit for a spell.”

“I’d be glad to,” Tony said, smiling at the white-headed CEO. “I’ve looked forward to getting to meet more Morris people.”

“Excellent. We’ll introduce you and your executive staff in an informal manner shortly. I’ll officially turn everything over to you and go. Vernon will introduce the Morris executives.”

“No need for you to rush away. I look forward to meeting them to put faces with names.” Tony wanted to ask about one director in particular, but he refrained. Instead, as he conversed with those around him, he idly watched the crowd.

“Why don’t we do the introductions and let me officially move on. I can turn it over to you and get these old bones home to bed.”

“Yes, sir,” Tony replied, biting back a smile at the references to old and tired because he had already discovered that Seymour Morris worked out daily and had for years. Seymour was into polo, swimming, racquetball and golf.

As he moved to the microphone with Seymour, a blonde caught his attention.

In a plain black knee-length dress, Isabelle stood out. How had he missed her? Or had she just arrived? His insides clenched and flames heated him. Looking gorgeous, she stood talking to a cluster of Morris people. The short dress revealed her long, shapely legs and he could take a slow look now when she was unaware of his gaze on her. Her hair was looped and piled on her head, but this time a few strands escaped to frame her face.

She laughed at something someone said and his heart jumped. Instantly a vivid memory of Jessie Smith struck him.

His gaze narrowed while he focused intently on Isabelle, looking slowly, trying to compare her to a memory.

“Mr. Morris. I see your graphic arts department director, Isabelle Smith. Is that her full name?”

“As far as I know,” Seymour answered, turning to the man at his side with a questioning look.

Tony’s gaze remained riveted on Isabelle. He wanted to excuse himself and go talk to her, but that was impossible.

“It’s Jessica Isabelle Smith,” the vice president answered.

“Jessica Smith,” Tony whispered, repeating the name. Jessie Smith. It was her. Jessie Smith was back in his life.

He couldn’t keep from smiling. His new acquisition had a surprising, incredible perk. Now he could think of two reasons for her coolness when they had met Tuesday night. She could resent that he had not contacted her after their night together. Or she didn’t want to recall that night or rekindle the friendship. He watched her, remembering the college girl he had met, taunted by a visual picture of a laughing blonde, stunning in tight, faded jeans that molded to her slim legs. The same riveting blue eyes and flawless skin. A mouth to elicit erotic fantasies. And a cascade of long, almost waist length, silky, pale blond hair that, instead of being tightly pinned and conservative, tumbled freely over her shoulders. A party girl. Fun-loving, flirty with him, burning him to cinders in bed.

Why had she switched to her middle name, Isabelle? Nearly everything about her had changed, with the exception of her gorgeous looks, her captivating blue eyes, silky blond hair and that blazing attraction. Tony recalled her in his arms that night, warm, naked, eager. She had been all the things then that she had not been when he encountered her Tuesday night—the night they had met, there had never been a barrier around her.

She must have remembered him from the start. Was she angry he hadn’t pursued her after that night of passion?

Barely aware of his surroundings or the looming task, Tony’s attention kept returning to her while he attempted to chat politely with Seymour.

Finally, one of Seymour’s vice presidents quieted the room, introduced Seymour Morris and turned the microphone over to him.

Smiling his way through the opening, Tony heard none of it. His gaze kept resting on Isabelle, who was now facing the speaker, keeping her gaze firmly on the vice president or on Seymour. During the time Tony had watched her, not once had she looked at him.

He heard Seymour announce his name, introducing him as the new CEO and head of Ryder Enterprises, and he smiled during the applause. As he stepped to the microphone, shook Seymour’s hand and looked around the audience, his gaze rested on Isabelle. This time he made eye contact.

The instant they looked into each other’s eyes, the air electrified. Erotic images from the past taunted him as he pulled his attention back to the moment.

“I want to thank all of you for the warm welcome I’ve received. Seymour Morris and the Morris family have built a premier company with the help of outstanding employees. This is a blue-ribbon company with a blue-ribbon record.” He waited a few seconds while there was polite applause.

“In the coming weeks I’ll be talking to each of you more in depth. I think I already have appointments with most of you. If you need to see me sooner than your appointment, just let my secretary know. I’m looking forward to a banner year for Morris. I’ll turn this over to my executive president, Jason Hoyt, who has a few words to say and some introductions.”

He stepped aside and once again barely heard introductions until they went back to the Morris people and one by one, the vice presidents and then the directors were introduced.

They were scattered throughout the room and each person waved while they received brief applause. As each name was called, he looked carefully at the person, recalling the information he had received regarding them. Finally, he heard, “Isabelle Smith, director of the graphic arts department.”

Smiling, she stepped forward to wave, her gaze never meeting his. It didn’t matter. His heart jumped while he studied her intently again, remembering Jessie, comparing, feeling faint doubts that were fading each time he looked at her. Off and on he had thought about her, wondering where she was and what she was doing. At the time he had been working almost every waking minute and he hadn’t wanted to get involved with a woman because business would have suffered. She was back in his life. Now he could better understand her anger over his not contacting her after their night of partying and making love. Also, he could get through that barrier she had thrown up. As they made the next announcement, she glanced at him.

Certain she was Jessie Smith, he was jubilant.

The minute they finished the introductions and speeches, Tony turned to Seymour to offer his hand. “Thank you, sir. I have high hopes for Morris.”

“I think you’ll do well. This has been a great company. I have to tell you, there are moments this retirement gets to me, but I have no Morris heirs to pass this on to, so this is the end of the line. Life is filled with changes. I hope you pass this company through as many generations of Ryders as we have had Morrises.”

“Thank you. You’ve built a great company and I’m looking forward to my involvement in it.”

Seymour grinned. “Your father wanted this company in the worst way. I’ve fought him off for years. Lucky for you that you happened along when I wanted to retire and it didn’t hurt that you had a better offer than your dad,” Seymour added, chuckling. “Even though he didn’t make the sale, I know he’s probably still celebrating since you have a family business the same as I do. He may be out of it, but it was his and it’s still Ryder.”

“That he is. Best wishes on your retirement,” Tony said, anxious to get through the formalities.

When he had the chance, he turned to look for Isabelle. Once again, he couldn’t spot her. While his pulse drummed, he began to move around the room and then he saw her near the door, talking to three people. With her coat in hand, he suspected that she had been on her way out when someone had stopped her.

He tried to avoid rushing, but he crossed the room, putting off conversations with people who approached him.

And then she turned and walked out the door.

He lengthened his stride to catch up with her in the hall. “Jessie,” he said.

Isabelle stopped, her heart lurching. He remembers was the first thought that went through her mind. Her palms became damp as she turned to watch him approach. Looking like an ad for expensive men’s clothing in his charcoal suit, Tony had a commanding presence that was different from the party guy she had met in college. The thick mat of unruly curls were the only hint of a less serious side to him, something beyond the driven, ambitious mogul whose entire focus seemed to be on acquiring an even larger fortune.

As he halted only inches in front of her, there was a warmth in his gaze that hadn’t been present on Tuesday night. He gripped her arm lightly, his fingers barely holding her, yet it was a heated touch. “Let’s go where we can talk and not be interrupted.”

“I’m not sure we need to talk,” she said. “You’re my new employer. I’ll see you sometimes at the office,” she said, starting to put on her coat. He took it and held it out for her. As she slipped her arms into the sleeves, his hands brushed her shoulders. The faint touch should have been impersonal but was scalding.

“Oh, no. You’re not getting off that easily. Why didn’t you tell me?”

She looked up at him as he walked beside her. “I didn’t think you remembered,” she said, her pulse racing.

“I’ve never forgotten. Tuesday night, I thought about you—the Jessie Smith I knew, but dismissed the idea because of your name, Isabelle, your appearance, which is far different. And your whole manner.”

As they left the building, he held the door. “Let’s go have a drink somewhere and we can talk.”

She shook her head. “We’re not taking up where we left off. Different time, different world. You’re my new employer. End of discussion. I have other job offers, so soon I’ll be leaving Morris.”

“Don’t act in haste,” he said, his dark brown eyes unreadable. His handsome looks held her attention, more so now than when she was younger.

“I won’t do anything rash. I’ve been interviewing, studying my options.”

“Perhaps, but you haven’t heard what we’ll offer,” he said.

“Frankly, I doubt it will top the offers I’ve received. And you’ll have no difficulty replacing me, if you even want to with your ad department all in place. We both know that.”

“Why not hear what we’ll do? What do you have to lose?”

She smiled at him. “Nothing to lose. I’ll listen at the office. There’s no need for us to discuss work tonight.”

“How about dinner tomorrow night?” he asked, and her heartbeat skipped. Acceptance was on the tip of her tongue. But she had had one foolish night with him. She didn’t want another. Her aim was to meet someone with marriage potential—definitely not Tony Ryder’s MO, he was not the settling-down type. She wanted marriage and family. Tony wanted success. Focusing on his workaholic drive, she could say no far more easily.

“Thank you. I have never thought it wise to mix business with my personal life. That’s the path to all kinds of complications.”

“I think you cut off your options too hastily,” he said, smiling at her. “I’m still glad to find you again. I suppose it’s Isabelle now and not Jessie.”

“Definitely. Jessie was a nickname from childhood. My grandmother was named Isabelle and I loved her and always wished Isabelle had been my first name. When I graduated from college, I saw an opportunity to move into a different world with different friends and change to the name I like best. I prefer Isabelle and most of my coworkers don’t even know Jessica, much less Jessie.”

His gaze roamed over her features, his scrutiny making her breathless. “I hope you come to work sometime with your hair down. I remember your long hair,” he said in a husky voice.

And I remember your broad shoulders and rock-hard body, she thought. “I don’t wear my hair down to work,” she answered in what she hoped was a remote voice. “It doesn’t seem as professional.”

“So when you knew I was coming, you began looking for another job?”

“Actually, the companies contacted me. I intended to look other places, and now I’ve had promising offers.”

“You’ve said you’d wait and give us a chance.”

“I will, but I’m pretty sure I’ll be leaving and even more certain you’ll never miss me.” It was tempting for her to add, You didn’t be fore. “I need to go. I told Mr. Morris goodbye. I’ll miss him, but he seems happy with the prospect of retiring.”

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Tony said, falling into step beside her. “Catch me up. Did you go from college to Morris?”

“No. I worked for an ad agency for two years and then came to work here.”

At her car she stopped and smiled. “Good night,” she said, pulling her coat close around her.

“Night, Isabelle. I’ll see you at the office.”

She slid behind the wheel. He closed the door and stepped back.

As she drove away across the parking lot, she glanced in the rearview mirror. He stood staring at her car.

She had turned down dinner and told him she was quitting. Exactly what she should have done, but there was part of her that wanted to accept his dinner offer and stay in his employ.

This had to be for the best. She didn’t want any more nights of mindless liaisons, a brief casual relationship with her employer that meant nothing to him. She wanted out of this company and away from Tony Ryder with her heart and her self-respect intact. And she didn’t want the office gossiping about her relationship with the new owner. Tony Ryder was not the person to get involved with and she regretted that he had recognized her. She intended to keep reminding herself that he was not the kind of man she wanted to spend her time with.

Even so, there was part of her that wanted to stay at Morris. A part of her that knew she would see more of Tony if he was her boss.

As she studied an ad layout at the office Friday morning, Isabelle received a call from Tony’s secretary, who wanted to set up a meeting. Within minutes Isabelle had an eleven-o’clock appointment Monday with Tony, his president of operations and the president of promotion and information. She was still tempted to turn in a resignation and skip the interview, but she was curious how badly he wanted her to stay. What offer would he make?

She had already decided which company she would prefer to join. She had had the third interview, which had culminated in a job offer that included more money than she was making. She would oversee a larger graphic arts department in an office with a more convenient location. She did not expect Tony to top their proposal, giving her the opportunity to tell him she had a better offer. Going with that thought firmly in mind, she spent the weekend getting ready for her business move, hoping to take off a few days in between employers. Saturday morning she went to a midmorning meeting of Dallas Regional Graphic Artists. She had belonged to the group since she had started her career.

As she expected, a close friend greeted her upon her arrival. Dylan Kinnaly—who was seriously involved with Tony’s sister, Sydney—broke away from a cluster of people and hurried toward her. The tall, slender man had a worried frown that indicated something bad had happened.

“Have you met him yet?” Dylan asked. “You said Tony Ryder takes over now.”

“Hello, to you,” she answered with amusement. “Yes, I’ve met him. He wants me to stay with Morris.”

“Sydney’s parents had a long talk with her about me. I was hoping to talk with you when we get a chance. Can you stay after the meeting?”

“Sure, the room will be empty,” she said, her curiosity rising. Dylan had become a good friend over the years and she had been surprised when she had learned he was seeing Tony’s sister.

She had first met Sydney Ryder at an annual film festival held by one of the local art museums. Later, she had seen her a few times at professional events when Dylan had brought her along. She couldn’t keep from liking Sydney and couldn’t blame her for anything her brother did. But Sydney was a reminder of Tony, and for that reason Isabelle had refused the few invitations from Dylan to go to dinner with them. When she had told Dylan about meeting Tony in college, swearing him to secrecy about telling Sydney, Dylan understood her refusal to get to know Sydney better.

“The meeting’s beginning so we’ll talk later.”

They took seats and listened as a speaker took the podium. The meeting was short, lasting only an hour.

It wasn’t until they were alone that Dylan turned to her. Since his blue eyes were clouded with worry, she braced for bad news. “Sydney called me last Tuesday night. Her parents gave her an ultimatum. If she doesn’t drop me, they will disinherit her, stop paying for medical school for her and cut her out of family holidays.”

“Dylan, I can’t believe that. Why?” Isabelle asked, aghast and wondering about the tensions in Tony’s family. “How can they interfere in your lives that way? Why would they?”

“I’m not society. They want her to marry one of the men she’s known all her life. Also, they think I’m after her money.”

“That’s dreadful,” Isabelle answered. “Sounds like something out of the eighteenth century.”

“I don’t want any of Sydney’s money,” he said, his long fingers turning his pen in his hand. “I don’t want to hurt her, either. We’ve talked it over. As far as I’m concerned, I see only one solution—I ended our relationship. For her sake.”

“That’s even worse. Does she go along with your decision?”

“No. She wants us back together, but they’re threatening too big a disaster for her. I don’t want her going through anything so stressful over me. She’s always loved her family and they’ve been close. She’s very close with her brother.”

“What’s does Tony think of all this?”

“He said he would send her to medical school, not to worry about that one.”

“Good for him,” Isabelle said, relieved and aware of a grudging respect blossoming for Tony. “He can afford to do that. I was afraid he would side with his folks.”

“Not at all. He gave her a generous check. He told her he would never cut her out on holidays—or ever. He urged her to tell me their threats. Tony is damn supportive, but from what Sydney has told me, Tony has had bitter battles with his dad.”

“I’m glad Tony took that stand,” she said, her respect growing stronger. “I think more of him for not siding with them, and for urging her to tell you their threats.”

“They may treat him the same way when he gets engaged if it isn’t someone they approve of.”

“Tony Ryder is a complete workaholic,” Isabelle said. “I can’t imagine him getting married. He won’t have the same problem with his parents. I’m sorry, Dylan. If she truly loves you and you love her, maybe you should give it more thought before you break off with her.”

“I just don’t want to cause her to lose her inheritance—or her parents.”

“She’s in love with you. I understand your feelings, but think about it.”

She gazed into eyes that were darker blue than her own. Dylan was a good graphic artist and they had helped each other in years past on projects. She hated to see him hurt and she thought the Ryders were being ghastly about him.

“What about you and Tony Ryder?” Dylan asked. “Have you seen him yet? Does he remember you?”

“Yes and yes. He remembers me and he wants me to stay with Ryder Enterprises.”

“You’re damn good at what you do. You’ve built that department. Will you?”

She shook her head. “The department will never be the same. I don’t want to stay. There’s no future with Tony.”

“I don’t blame you. If I could do it over—” He paused to think and shook his head. “I’d still want to know Sydney. I love her and you can’t turn that off. Not the last-forever kind of love.”

“Dylan, I’m so sorry. They should be delighted with you.”

He smiled. “Thanks. I naively thought they would at least be friendly to me. They aren’t even that. I’m not supposed to set foot in their house.”

“This goes from bad to worse,” she remarked. “What a family. Maybe you don’t want to marry into it. Do you know Sydney really, really well?”

“I love her with all my heart. Enough to get out of her life and avoid causing her heartache.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t have a solution for you, except to urge you to rethink walking away from the woman you love and who loves you. Think about what’s important. Think about what Sydney wants.”

Dylan smiled briefly at her, and they got up to head out. As they walked toward the door, he said, “No one has a good solution, but thanks for listening. Be careful with Tony if he wants you to go out with him. You could end up in a dilemma with his family. Sydney said they have women picked out for him.”

Isabelle laughed. “Don’t worry. There’s no danger. Tony Ryder is in love with his work. He’s married to his job. I don’t ever want to tie my life to someone who puts work first over family. I saw that happen with one of my friend’s family when I was growing up and it was dreadful.

“True love is a precious thing. Think about it, Dylan, before you do something drastic.”

“I’m thinking, but I always come back to the same solution. I love her and want what’s best for her.”

“I hope she appreciates the kind of person you are. It sounds as if she does. Don’t rush into a breakup, Dylan. That’s my two cents’ worth.”

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you about this.”

“Keep in touch and let me know what’s happening,” she said, going to her car as Dylan headed to his.

“You do the same,” he called, walking backward. “If you change jobs, please let me know.”

“I will,” she called, climbing into her car, moving by rote while she thought about what she had learned from Dylan. She didn’t want to be involved with Tony in any manner.

One more strike against getting to know Tony Ryder any better. His family would be no more happy with her than they were with Dylan. At least Tony had stood by his sister. Isabelle had to admire him for that.

Sunday afternoon, she looked at her wardrobe to select what she would wear to the Monday interview. Certain she would soon leave Morris, she decided to wear something both professional and a little less buttoned up than usual, something more on the appealing side. Her conservative suits were shades of blue, gray, brown and black, innocuous, all business, hopefully authoritative to offset her age and pale blond hair. Although she was five feet eight inches tall, she wore high heels. She rummaged through her choices, pushing aside the suits to withdraw three dresses, which she tried on in succession.

Tony had forgotten her before and he would again, but she wanted him to notice her Monday and remember her after she was gone from his company. She had to stop thinking of it as Morris and recognize that it was now Ryder Enterprises, a name that gave her a bitter feeling because of Tony and their past, as well as having loved the Morris company the way it had been. Mentally, she had mapped out a rosy future with Morris and then Tony Ryder had brought it crashing down. Unfair a little, because Mr. Morris was also responsible by retiring and selling out.

She finally decided on a deep blue dress with a short jacket and a straight skirt that had a slit on one side. The low-cut square neckline revealed curves while the whole dress clung to her figure. She had matching pumps that would complete her ensemble. Eager to resign and move on with her life, she looked forward to the interview.

Monday morning she was ushered into the elegant office that had always belonged to a Morris. The thick carpet muffled any footsteps while the early morning sun poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, spilling across the balcony and into the room. She imagined a smiling Mr. Morris sitting at his broad mahogany desk. Instead, it was Tony, vibrant, commanding, sexy enough to transform what was usually a purely business atmosphere into an electrified ambience. Smiling, he stood, coming around his desk to greet her while another man remained beside a leather chair. A brunette who had been sitting nearby stood.

“Good morning, Isabelle,” Tony said, taking her hand to shake it briefly. The moment they touched, her already racing pulse gave another spurt. She withdrew her hand swiftly. His brown eyes were friendly. Unruly black locks curled on his forehead, an unwanted reminder of being in his arms and combing them back from his face.

Instantly, she tried to concentrate on the interview ahead, but when she met Tony’s gaze, there was a mocking look, as if he knew exactly what she had been thinking.