Trouble in Texas by Katie Lane Page A

him of the ones his sixty-two-year-old secretary,
     Ms. Hathaway, wore.
    He might’ve thought she was an unsuspecting visitorto the house if she hadn’t stopped a fourth of the way up and stared at Miss Hattie’s
     room as if a monster lurked behind the double doors. Instead the monster stood at
     the bottom of the stairs.
    “Looking for someone?” he said.
    The woman released a terrified squeak and whirled around so quickly that she lost
     her balance. She would’ve taken a mean tumble if Brant hadn’t climbed the stairs in
     two giant strides and caught her. Most women—especially one who knew she was in big
     trouble—would’ve played the damsel in distress card for all it was worth, clinging
     to his chest and acting as if he was the bravest of heroes. Surprisingly, this woman
     didn’t waste her time… or his. Once he set her back on her ugly brown shoes, she straightened
     her suit jacket and got right to the point.
    “So I see you escaped.” Her gaze flickered over his body, and her face flamed a bright
     red before her eyes moved back up to his.
    Considering that his borrowed robe had come untied, he understood her embarrassment.
     He was starting to pull the silk edges together when he noticed her mouth. It was
     an unusual mouth. With the top lip slightly bigger than the bottom, it made her look
     as if she was pouting upside down. But it wasn’t the shape that held his attention
     as much as the memories that flashed through his mind. He remembered these lips, remembered
     the feel, taste, and texture. Remembered the hard pull and passion.
    She no more than blinked before he had her against the wall. He thought she would
     scream. Instead she just studied him as if expecting his anger.
    “You were the one who came to my room last night,” he growled.
    Her face got even brighter, but she didn’t look away. “Yes. And I’d like to explain,
     Mr. Cates, if you’ll just let me.” A tense smile tipped her lips. He had a hard time
     looking away as she continued.
    “I realize you probably won’t believe this, but it was all just a comedy of errors.
     Minnie didn’t mean to shoot you, and Baby only drugged you so you wouldn’t call the
     sheriff.”
    “And I suppose you handcuffed me to the bed and seduced me just to be hospitable,”
     he said more than a little snidely.
    Her eyes widened, and then suddenly she was laughing. Not a soft chuckle, but a full-out
     laugh that brought tears to her eyes. It only served to piss Brant off more, and his
     hands tightened on her waist.
    “You think that’s funny, do you?”
    She stopped laughing, but her eyes behind the glasses still twinkled with humor. “If
     you knew me, Mr. Cates, you’d think it was funny, too. I’ve never seduced a man in
     my life.”
    “So what were you doing in my bed last night?”
    Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. She closed it and swallowed hard. Before she
     could try again, a gunshot rang out. Brant exchanged looks with her for only a second
     before he released her and headed down the stairs.
    Minnie’s derringer was still smoking when Brant shoved open the front screen door.
     He didn’t waste any time pulling the gun out of her hand.
    “You crazy old woman. I should call the sheriff.”
    “I don’t think we need the sheriff.” Beauregard poked his head around the trellis
     of honeysuckle that surrounded the porch. “But after that scare, I might need a change
     of underwear.”

Chapter Six
    Henhouse Rule #10: Some men take a little more time to come around.
    “M S . M URPHY ?” Beauregard Cates pulled off his hat, and his confused sapphire eyes, so much like
     his brother’s, settled on her.
    Elizabeth probably should be upset that Beauregard had found her at Miss Hattie’s,
     but after discovering that the man she’d left handcuffed to the bed was also the president
     of one of the biggest companies in Texas, Elizabeth had resigned herself to the fact
     that the jig was up. And her life, as she