LITMIR.BIZ

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I’m to believe that everything in Texas is bigger and better?”

      Shock immobilized him. Was Bailey flirting with him? Surely not. He glanced over his shoulder at her. As far as he could tell, nothing in her demeanor was the least bit sexual. Too bad. “Yes,” he said curtly. “I thought you would know that, being from Dallas.”

      “I’m not from Dallas. My dad was in the army. We lived all over the world. Dallas is where I’m assigned at the moment.”

      “So where do you call home?”

      Seconds passed. Two, maybe three. For a brief moment he saw bleak regret in her brown-eyed gaze. “Not anywhere, really.”

      Such rootlessness was hard for him to imagine. Texas was as much a part of his lifeblood as breathing. Sensing her unease with the topic, he turned to face her, at last somewhat in control of himself. “Well,” he said laconically, “at least if you weren’t born here, you came as soon as you could.”

      Bailey, arms wrapped around her waist, smiled. “I guess you could say that.”

      He pursed his lips. “Apparently, I have no choice about your interference. Is that what you’re telling me?” The facts of the matter still stuck in his craw.

      “You’ve got it.” Though seeing him admit defeat must have pleased her, Bailey’s expression remained neutral.

      “Very well. Meet me at the club at ten in the morning. I’ll show you where to get started.”

      “I’m a highly trained computer specialist, Gil. I shouldn’t have to take up more than a week of your life.”

      Too bad. He glanced at his watch. “Come say goodbye to Cade.”

      In his office, he watched, perturbed, as once again his son lit up at seeing their visitor.

      Gil’s son beamed. “I unlocked three more levels, Bailey.”

      She nodded. “Good for you.”

      Cade looked at his dad. “Are you gonna call her Bailey?”

      “I suppose I will,” Gil admitted. “She’s going to be around for a while.”

      Cade grinned charmingly. “That’s good.”

      Gil pinched the boy’s ear. “Behave, brat. I don’t need your help finding women.”

      Bailey’s face turned crimson, affording Gil a definite sense of satisfaction. It was fine by him if she felt uncomfortable. It was only fair. She was messing with his life from stem to stern in all sorts of ways. Not the least of which was his recalcitrant libido. The sooner she finished what she had to do and left town, the better.

      * * *

      Bailey arrived at the Texas Cattleman’s Club fifteen minutes early the following morning. A heat wave still held the area in an unseasonable grip. Though by no means reaching the brutal temperatures of July and August, the day was plenty warm. Which meant that the winter clothing Bailey had brought with her was stifling.

      Deciding she could maintain a professional demeanor without her blazer, she stripped it off and laid it carefully in the backseat of the car. Rolling up the sleeves of her white silk blouse, she breathed a sigh of relief as she immediately felt cooler.

      In all honesty, part of her warmth stemmed from the prospect of facing Gil Addison again. Gil was in the clear as far as the investigation went, but she was going to have to work with him to some extent in order to do her job. The fact that she was attracted to him complicated things.

      As she approached the club, she assessed the physical features automatically. Built around 1910, the large, rambling, single-story building was constructed of dark wood and stone with a tall slate roof. For over a century, it had been an entirely male enclave. In the past couple of years, however, a handful of women had finally been admitted as official members. During her stay in Royal, Bailey had heard rumblings of discontent. Not everyone thought change was a good idea.

      Despite her early arrival, Gil was waiting for her in the lobby. Guests were admitted only in the company of a member. She wondered if Gil felt he was betraying his position by bringing Bailey into the mix.

      She greeted him quietly and looked around. High ceilings gave a sense of spaciousness even as dark floors and big leather-upholstered furniture created a cozy, masculine space. “Nice,” she said. “Is Cade with you?”

      Gil pointed to the room just to the left of the entryway. “The old billiards room has been converted into the new day care center. I promised Cade if he behaved nicely for a couple of hours, he could join us for lunch.”

      “I’d like that,” she said. “Your son is a pretty awesome kid.”

      “I happen to think so.” He shoved his hands in his back pockets. Today, perhaps in deference to his position as president, he wore a tweed blazer over a white dress shirt. He hadn’t given up his jeans, however. Although Gil hadn’t worn his hat inside his own home, apparently within the walls of the club, a Stetson was de rigueur.

      It wasn’t fair, Bailey thought desperately. How was she supposed to be businesslike when everything about him made her weak in the knees? Well, almost everything, she amended mentally. His arrogance was hard to take. She had come up against Gil’s bullheadedness in her initial interview with him. Pushing for answers had been like a futile military assault against well-fortified defenses.

      Gil was a man accustomed to steering his own course. Though she didn’t pick up any vibes that he scoffed at the idea of a woman working in law enforcement, nevertheless she suspected he didn’t like having to cooperate.

      As they walked down the hall toward Gil’s TCC office, she asked the question that she should have asked the day before. “Have you been to see Alex since he’s been found?”

      Gil pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the solid oak door. Ushering Bailey inside, he nodded. “I did...but since he’s lost his memory, the visit was rather pointless. He had no clue who I was.”

      “Were you close before he disappeared?”

      “Close enough. Not bosom buddies, but we knew each other pretty well.”

      “You probably should go see him again when you have a chance,” she said. “You never know when a face or voice might jog something loose.”

      “I’ll think about it....”

      She placed her purse and briefcase on a low table. She and Gil were standing in what appeared to be an outer reception area. More masculine leather furniture outfitted this small space. Someone had added a stuffy arrangement of artificial flowers, perhaps hoping to soften the ambience. But with various examples of taxidermy staring down from overhead, it was hard to imagine any woman feeling at home here.

      Apparently, the office itself was through the closed door a few steps away. “I don’t want to snarl up your day,” she said. “If you don’t mind writing down the user name and password...and giving me a quick rundown of the program you use to input information, I should be able to work on my own.”

      Gil smiled, genuine amusement on his face. That expression alone was enough to shock her. But the momentary appearance of an honest-to-God dimple in his tanned cheek took her aback. “Did I say something funny?”

      He stepped past her to open the other door. “See for yourself.”

      Expecting to discover the customary computer and printer equipment inside, she drew up short at the sight facing her. A dozen wooden file cabinets, four drawers high, lined the opposite wall. By the window, a deep bookshelf housed a collection of thick leather ledgers. Dust motes danced in a sunbeam that played across a patterned linoleum floor. A battered rolltop desk sat just to the left, its only adornment a brass placard that said President.

      She held up her hands in defeat. “You can’t be serious.”

      Gil leaned in the doorway, his relaxed posture in direct opposition

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