LITMIR.BIZ

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to wait for her. He probably had a list of women’s names he could call at the last minute if he chose to leave. She smiled at the thought. I wonder if my name will be added to that list?

      Jude stopped his car in front of the gate to the grounds of the Patterson property, located in the Alamo Heights district of San Antonio. Some of these mansions had been in the same family for generations, so he wasn’t too surprised to discover that the Pattersons’ home was here. He pushed the button on the security box and a male voice immediately spoke. “Identification, please.”

      “Jude Crenshaw, here to see Carina Patterson.”

      There was a pause and then the double wrought-iron gates swung open. He drove through and followed the curving driveway up an incline to the front of the house.

      The Pattersons’ compound took up the entire block. Jude noted two other houses situated nearby. Guest houses, he presumed. The estate was almost large enough to hold a golf course!

      He parked in front of the antebellum-style home and got out. Before he reached the top of the three shallow steps to the veranda, one of the double doors swung open. The man who stood there looked more like a former cop than a butler.

      “Good evening, Mr. Crenshaw,” the man said. “Carina is in the music room. Follow the hallway past the stairs and enter the first door on your right.”

      The foyer was wide and ran the entire length of the house. The staircase rose in a graceful curve to the second floor. Jude glanced up, past the second-floor landing at the ceiling and saw a multi-beveled glass dome that let in light.

      When he reached the indicated door, Jude saw Carina seated at a piano, playing, her back him. He stood listening to her. Because her file had noted her passion for music, he’d immersed himself in classical music by attending concerts for the past several months. He was impressed by her skills, despite the fact that he much preferred country-and-western music.

      Now he was known as a patron of the arts.

      He doubted very much if his dad or his three brothers would believe that he’d actually come to appreciate the skill, practice and talent needed to play a musical instrument that wasn’t a guitar.

      One of the walls had floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over a lush garden, making a colorful backdrop to the grand piano and the musician. He waited until she finished the song and then clapped his hands in appreciation. Carina’s head swung around in surprise and she rose from the piano. “Jude, please forgive me for being so rude. Helmuth didn’t tell me you were here and I’m afraid I lose all track of time when I’m playing.”

      She walked toward him, wearing a cool-looking sleeveless dress that matched the green of her eyes.

      “Then I can only thank Helmuth for the oversight,” he replied, “because I would have missed hearing you play just now. You take my breath away… I mean, your playing…” He stopped, knowing that he would only dig a hole for himself by attempting to clarify his comment.

      Jude took her hands in his. “You have such small hands to be able to make such beautiful music.”

      “Believe me, I wish they were larger. I’ve had to compensate for my lack of reach over the keyboard all my life.”

      “If you’re ready, shall we go?”

      When they reached the front entrance he saw that Helmuth hovered by the door. Carina paused in front of him. “Jude, I’d like you to meet Helmuth Gregorian. Helmuth has been with our family since before I was born.”

      Jude held out his hand. “Good to meet you.”

      Helmuth shook his hand and nodded. A man of few words, obviously.

      When Carina saw his car, her eyes widened. “Oh, my. That’s quite a car you have there, Mr. Crenshaw.”

      “Jude. My name is Jude.”

      “How long have you had it?” she asked, as he opened the passenger door and helped her inside. He closed the door and walked around to the other side. Once he started the car, he replied.

      “A couple of years, now.”

      “It looks brand new. You must take good care of it.”

      He grinned. “One of my many vices.”

      Once he reached the end of the driveway and turned onto the street, Jude glanced at her and said, “I made reservations for us at a place north of town with a nice view. We’ll be there in about thirty minutes. I hope that’s all right with you.”

      She patted the butter-soft leather of the upholstery and chuckled. “Are you kidding? I could ride in this for weeks.”

      “That’s good to know. So if I decide to kidnap you one of these days, does that mean you won’t put up much of a struggle?”

      “Well,” she said slowly, “that would depend on why you’d kidnapped me.”

      “Oh, rest assured it would be for nefarious purposes.”

      “Well, in that case,” she said, laughing, “I probably wouldn’t mind.”

      She leaned back in her seat and appeared to relax, which was good. First dates were always tough. Add to that his motive for taking her out…and the evening became even tougher.

      They rode along in silence while Jude traversed the various streets that he could swear had originally been cow paths from the way they meandered through the city.

      Once on the expressway, Carina said, “Tell me something about yourself, Jude. All I know is that you’re a native Texan and that you’re a member of the well-known Crenshaw family.”

      Reasonable question. He’d stick to the truth as much as possible, with the exception of his playboy image.

      “There’s not much to tell and what there is you’ll find boring. I’m thirty years old. I enjoy being outdoors and can’t imagine myself working in an office all day.” That was true enough.

      “Where were you born? Where did you go to school? Tell me something about your family. Why did you invite me for dinner?”

      He laughed. “The last one’s easy. Because I’m attracted to you and want to get to know you better.” He teased her by saying, “Why is it I feel as though I’m being interviewed? Will I read about myself in tomorrow’s paper?”

      She laughed. “Oh, no. They’d never get an article into print that fast. Probably some time next week.”

      “Oh. Well then, I suppose that’s all right.” They headed out of the city and the traffic thinned out a little before he spoke. “I was born in a little town you’ve probably never heard of, New Eden, which is located about a hundred miles northwest of here. My family’s been there since the 1840s, when one of my ancestors arrived in Texas and bought land in the Hill Country. My dad is the oldest of four brothers and he has four sons.”

      “Oh, my. Did his brothers have that many children?”

      “Not quite. My uncle Jeffrey has two sons, Jordan and Jackson. Uncle Josh has three sons: Jeremy, Justin and James, and Uncle Jerome has three sons: Jed, Jesse and Johnny.”

      “Whew. That’s a lot of people with names starting with J. And what’s with the all-male households?”

      “Well, there were women born to some of our ancestors, but not many. And my oldest brother, Jake, broke the cycle by producing a little girl—Heather—a few years ago.”

      “Tell me about your brothers.”

      Watson had been right. His background would hold up to any scrutiny if someone was checking on him because it wasn’t part of his cover.

      He relaxed a little more and said, “Let’s see. Jake is almost thirty-four. He’s the rancher in our family. He married the foreman’s daughter, Ashley, last fall and they’re expecting their first child together any time now. Heather is from his first

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