Marie Ferrarella

Colton Undercover


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uncomfortable, that was their problem, not hers. People didn’t get to choose their family.

      Now all she had to do was believe that, Leonor thought ruefully.

      Happily, the restaurant, while doing a nice, brisk business, wasn’t crowded in the big city sense of the word. The restaurants she had gotten accustomed to in Austin were the kind that had lines curling outside the door even with reservations. Waiting was more or less a way of life in Austin.

      That wasn’t the case here.

      “Table for two, Ms. Colton?” the hostess asked as Leonor came up to the reservations desk.

      Leonor was surprised that the hostess knew who she was. But she knew she shouldn’t have been.

      * * *

      Standing not too far away, Josh heard someone being addressed as “Ms. Colton.” He looked up sharply.

      It was her.

      Leonor Colton. She looked just like her picture. Talk about luck, he thought. He’d just stopped to get something to eat and he’d struck the mother lode.

      As unobtrusively as possible, Josh made his way over to the reservations desk, trying not to appear to be in any sort of hurry.

      Leonor’s eyes met the hostess’s. The latter appeared to be friendly. There was no condemnation or curiosity in the young woman’s eyes. Leonor relaxed.

      “No, just for one. I’m dining alone,” Leonor told the hostess.

      “You know,” a deep voice directly behind her said, “I really hate dining alone, but I’m new in town so I suppose that I’ll have to. Unless, perhaps, you wouldn’t mind sharing a table with me.”

      “I’m sorry,” Leonor replied without bothering to turn around. “I don’t eat with strangers.”

      Rather than pretending to be put off, Josh circled around her until he was right in her line of vision. The hostess, who was looking on, seemed utterly charmed by him. But his target was not the hostess: it was Leonor Colton.

      “My name’s Joshua Pendergrass. Now, if you tell me your name, we won’t be strangers anymore.” He put out his hand, but Leonor made no effort to take it. Her hand remained at her side.

      “Look, Mr. Pendergrass,” she began patiently, “knowing your name doesn’t make you any less of a stranger to me.” She didn’t want to cause a scene, but she really wanted the man to go away or at least back off. Granted, he was exceedingly handsome, but so was David, and look where that had gotten her. “I don’t know the first thing about you.”

      Unfazed, Josh began to give her a thumbnail version of the bio that had been drawn up for him in the field office. “Easily taken care of. My father’s Elliott Pendergrass and he and his firm have built some of the tallest buildings in Dallas and Austin. Much to my socialite mother’s delight, my father loves finding new ways to build up the family fortune.”

      Leaning in just a shade closer to Leonor, he confided in a slightly lower tone, “He’s on record as being very disappointed in me because my interests lie in a totally different field. I’m an art aficionado, and for me heaven is either spending the day prowling about the halls of an art museum, or just sitting in my den, admiring my own rather small, but if I do say so myself, modestly impressive collection. There,” he concluded, flashing a rather world-class smile at her that caused the hostess behind her to sigh just a little, “will that do?”

      Leonor didn’t know whether to be amazed—or suspicious. David had done that to her, she thought angrily; he’d made her suspicious of things she would have once happily accepted at face value. He’d robbed her of her ability to be outgoing and friendly.

      Still, after what this man with the incredible smile had just thrown out there, she had to ask. “You’re an art lover?”

      The man who had asked to share a table with her laughed softly at her question. “I’m afraid it’s much more serious than that. It’s more like I’m obsessed with art. At least that’s the way my father puts it. He had really high hopes of getting me to follow him into the business.” The wide shoulders beneath the expensive jacket rose and fell in a careless shrug. “I’m afraid I don’t have a head for business. I do, however, know what I like, and I really like art.”

      “What kind of art?” Leonor challenged. She wanted to believe this was some sort of happy cosmic coincidence, but she’d learned the hard way that she needed to be cautious. “Abstract, modern, contemporary—?”

      “A little bit of everything.” When suspicion creased her brow, he confessed frankly, “I’m rather eclectic. Tell you what, why don’t we continue this conversation over lunch?” he suggested. Looking over his shoulder, Josh nodded at the person behind him. “I’m afraid there’s a line beginning to form behind us and this lovely young woman—Kathy,” he said, reading the hostess’s name tag, “is just too polite to move us along. I wouldn’t want her getting into trouble on our account. Table for two, please, Kathy.”

      “Wait, I haven’t agreed to share a table with you yet,” Leonor protested, holding up her hand to the hostess to keep her from leading them into the dining area.

      Josh looked at her soulfully. “Would you deny a visitor to your town a little friendly conversation over lunch?”

      “How do you know I’m not a visitor, too?” Leonor wanted to know, although she had to admit that some of her resistance was fading.

      Josh’s expression was nothing if not innocent. It was a look he practiced in the mirror from time to time to make sure he could still pull off.

      “Are you?” he asked her.

      “Not in the strictest sense, no,” Leonor was forced to admit.

      Rather than challenge her ambiguous statement, Josh raised one eyebrow in a silent question as he looked at her. And then he repeated, “Table for two?”

      Leonor relented. What was the harm? After all, they’d be out in the open and she was free to leave at any given moment if she wanted to. So, nodding, she looked at the hostess and echoed his words.

      “Table for two.”

      “Right this way,” the hostess responded, leading them into the heart of the dining room. She took them to a secluded table that was off to one side. “I thought you might prefer this.”

      Leonor flashed a grateful smile at the hostess for what she assumed was the woman’s kindness. “Thank you.”

      The hostess nodded in response. “Someone will be back for your order,” she told them as she placed two menus on the table before them, and then discreetly withdrew, saying, “Take your time.”

      “And enjoy your lunch,” she added just before she slipped away.

      “Your father really builds skyscrapers?” Leonor asked the moment the hostess had retreated back to the reservations desk.

      “Dad seems to think so. I can give you the addresses of some of the larger ones, although I have to say, you don’t strike me as someone who’s interested in tall buildings—unless, of course, it’s to have your superhero boyfriend leap over them in a single bound.”

      “I don’t have a superhero boyfriend,” she informed him tersely.

      She was rewarded with a killer smile. “Sounds promising,” Josh told her.

      “Well, it’s not,” she said, making things very clear right up front. “You said I didn’t strike you as someone who would be interested in tall buildings. Just what do I strike you as? And I warn you, I can see a line coming a mile away.”

      “Good to know,” Josh responded, then said, “One won’t be coming.”

      Lacing his fingers together before him, Josh leaned his chin on them as he studied her for a long moment, his brown eyes sweeping over her slowly as if he was literally taking measure of every