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capable of. That was all that mattered.

      Because she was sitting at the reception desk filling in for Bev, she swallowed her pride and placed the call to Red. A few minutes later, Christopher and his posse emerged from his office and made their way to the elevator. But Christopher hung back. “Thanks for taking care of my family and me, Kinsley.”

      He looked her square in the eyes in that brazen way of his and flashed a smile. For a short, stupid moment part of her went soft and breathless.

      “Mmm” was all she managed to say before she tore her gaze from his and he walked away to join his party.

      Mmm. Not even a real word. Just an embarrassing monosyllabic grunt.

      Kinsley sat at the reception desk waiting for Bev to return, pondering the shyness that always seemed to get the better of her whenever he was around.

      Why?

      Why did he have this effect on her?

      It was because this job meant so much to her.

      And maybe she found his good looks a little intimidating. But good grief.

      So the guy was attractive with his perfectly chiseled features and those mile-wide broad shoulders. He had probably played football in college. One of those cocky jock types who had a harem clamoring to serve him. Not that Christopher Fortune’s personal life—past or present—was any of her business.

      Kinsley blinked and mentally backed away from thoughts of her coworker. Instead, she reminded herself that she had done the right thing by taking the high road and making his darned lunch reservation rather than trying to make a point.

      Looks didn’t matter. Not in her world, anyway. She had Christopher Fortune’s number. He was a handsome opportunist who was riding his family’s coattails. In the two months he’d been in the office he hadn’t done much to prove that he had high regard for the actual work they were trying to do at the Foundation.

      Obviously, he didn’t get it. Guys like him never did.

      But one thing she was going to make sure he understood in no uncertain terms—he’d better never call her darlin’ again or there would be hell to pay.

      Chapter Two

      “Oh, look at the flowers.” Angie sighed as Christopher guided her and Toby up the bougainvillea-lined path to Red.

      “Just wait until you see the courtyard inside,” Christopher said with as much pride as if he were showing off his own home. “Red is built around it. There’s a fountain I think you’ll love.”

      Angie stopped. “Red?”

      “Yes, that’s the name of the restaurant.” Christopher gestured to the tile nameplate attached to the wall just outside the door, which he held open as he tried to usher them inside, but Angie stopped.

      “Is this the same Red that’s owned by the Mendozas?” Angie asked.

      “One and the same,” Christopher said.

      “Wendy and Marcos Mendoza catered our wedding reception.” Angie sighed again as she looked around, taking it all in. “They have to be two of the nicest people I’ve ever met.” She turned to Toby. “I can’t believe we’re here. Chris, did you plan this?”

      He wished he could take credit for it, but until now, he’d had no idea what had taken place at their wedding. He’d been so intent on staying away to avoid clouding their day with bad vibes that he hadn’t realized he didn’t know the first thing about the event other than the fact that his brother had taken himself a bride.

      Regret knotted in his gut.

      “The Mendozas catered your wedding?” Christopher asked.

      “Yes, they did a beautiful job,” Angie said. “Everything was delicious. Oh, I hope that chicken mole they served at the reception is on the menu. I’ve been dreaming of it ever since.”

      A twinge of disappointment wove itself around the regret. Christopher knew it was totally irrational, but he had brought them here because he’d wanted to introduce them to something new, something from his world that he had discovered. Yet by a strange twist of small-world fate, Red was old news to them.

      “This place is so beautiful,” Angie cooed. “I could live here quite comfortably.”

      “I’ll bet we could.” Toby beamed at his wife. His love for her was written all over his face. Watching the two of them so deeply in love blunted the edges of Christopher’s disappointment. He wasn’t surprised that Toby had settled down. Of all of his siblings, Toby had been the one who was the most family oriented, especially after taking in the three Hemings kids. He was happy for his brother and Angie. He hoped things worked out and that they would be able to adopt the kids. But although Christopher looked forward to being an uncle, he couldn’t imagine any other kind of life than the one he was living now.

      On their way to lunch Christopher had seized the opportunity to show off his new town and lifestyle. He’d loaded the newlyweds into his spankin’ new BMW and given them the fifty cent tour of downtown Red Rock.

      Although there were certainly fancier restaurants in town, none spoke to Christopher quite the way Red did. Obviously the Mendoza appeal wasn’t restricted to Red Rock, since Toby and Angie seemed to love their food as much as he did.

      Christopher held open the door as Angie and Toby stepped inside. He breathed in deeply as he followed them. It smelled damn good...of fresh corn tortillas, chilies and spices. There was something about the mix of old and new that appealed to him. The restaurant was housed in a converted hacienda that had once been owned by a Spanish family rumored to have been related to Mexican dignitary Antonio López de Santa Ana. Santa Ana was known as the Napoleon of the West. Christopher had recently learned that the current owners of the property, Jose and Maria Mendoza, had been fortunate to purchase the house and land at an affordable price before anyone realized its historical significance. The place couldn’t have been in better hands because the Mendozas had given the place its due reverence. That was especially true after the restaurant had been largely destroyed by an arson fire in 2009. Luckily, the family rebuilt and reopened after several months and had been going strong ever since.

      Inside, the restaurant was decorated with antiques, paintings and memorabilia that dated all the way back to 1845 when President James Polk named Texas the twenty-eighth state of the Union.

      In college, Christopher had complemented his business major with a history minor. So it was only natural that he liked the place for its history.

      But the food...he loved the place for its food.

      Red offered a mouthwatering selection of nouveau Mexican cuisine. The chef had a talent for taking traditional dishes such as huevos rancheros, the chicken mole that Angie was so crazy about and tamales, and sending them to new heights using fresh twists on old classics. The menu was bright and vibrant, familiar yet new and exciting.

      Christopher had experienced nothing like it in Horseback Hollow. His mother, Jeanne Marie, was a great cook, but her repertoire was more of the meat and potatoes/comfort food variety. The food at Red was an exotic and surprising twist on traditional Mexican.

      The chef was always coming up with new specials of the day and anytime Christopher was in, he asked him to taste test and share his opinion. Christopher loved being able to offer his input.

      “Good afternoon, Mr. Fortune,” said the hostess. “We’re so glad you chose to join us for lunch today. Come right this way. Your favorite table is ready.”

      The shapely brunette shot Christopher a sexy smile before she turned, hips swaying, as she led the three of them to an aged pine table next to a large window where they could enjoy the comfort of the air-conditioning, but still look out at the well-landscaped courtyard. As far as Christopher was concerned, it was the best seat in the house.

      After they were settled, the hostess handed each of them a menu. “Enjoy your lunch, and please

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