“I do.” Alicia’s sweet smile and words of affirmation filled Justin’s chest with warmth.
Until he remembered that she had every reason to be wary of him.
Would she believe his story about the stone if she knew he wasn’t Rick Jones? He’d used the fake name here, too, as he often did when he didn’t want the media sniffing after him.
He’d gotten so tired of stories and innuendo—Shipping Heir Commissions Jewels for Mystery Sweetheart—that subterfuge was second nature to him now.
Would Alicia have treated him differently if he’d introduced himself as Justin Dupree?
For all he knew, Alicia had never heard of the Duprees.
She’d figured out by now that he was well-off—a four-bedroom penthouse hotel suite let that cat out of the bag—but she hadn’t asked where the money came from.
She seemed to genuinely enjoy his company and showed no interest in plumbing the depth of his pockets.
Most girls would be fingering the sparkling bracelets—or rings—by now, in the hope that he’d offer to buy her another, but Alicia was far from the velvet-lined cases, chatting enthusiastically with Julie about her plans to restore the downtown area.
“Julie did a lot of the restoration on this storefront herself.”
“I live in the apartment above it, too,” Julie said, gesturing to the patterned tin ceiling. “I love everything about this area. I’m so glad it’s not going to be bulldozed and turned into a parking lot.”
“At least not if Alex and I can keep stalling the developers.” Alicia sighed. “Some people don’t think about anything but money.”
“I wish there were more people like you and your brother, who don’t mind standing up to the powers that be.”
Alicia chuckled. “We’ve been doing it our whole lives, so we’re not going to stop now. And once people start to see what downtown Somerset can be, they’ll all jump on the bandwagon and congratulate themselves for coming up with the idea.”
Julie laughed. “She’s the eternal optimist.”
“Yet another reason why she deserves only the best. And she also needs some lunch, rather urgently. Julie, would you care to join us?”
“Heck no.” Julie crossed her arms. “You two need to be alone. And you need to get out of here before all the chemistry in the air starts turning my gems pink.”
Alicia giggled, which made her full breasts bounce against the white fabric of her dress. Justin tried to ignore the heat rising in his groin.
He shot Julie a grin. “Thanks again, Julie. You’re a gem.”
“Yeah. I hear that all the time.” She crossed her arms over her chest and shot him a knowing smile. “If you dig up any more AAA quality rocks, you know who to call.”
Her wink told him she still didn’t believe his story—which was in fact the gospel truth. As usual, he didn’t care in the least whether she believed him or not. He’d never been one to sweat other people’s opinions—until he met Alicia.
“I thought we’d go to Tea and Sympathy for some lunch,” he said in her ear as they left the shop. The honey scent of her skin made him want to bury his face in her neck, but he managed to restrain himself.
“Perfect.” She flashed a pearly grin. “They make smoked salmon and cucumber sandwiches to die for.”
“I hope no one will have to die.” He couldn’t resist grazing his hand down her waist and over the lush curve of her backside as he ushered her under the striped awning over the tea shop.
“Outside or inside?” He nodded at the wrought-iron tables and chairs that lined the slate sidewalk.
“Definitely inside.” She glanced up and down the street like a fugitive. “I know it’s very unlikely Alex is anywhere near here, but…” She shrugged. “Humor me, please?”
“I’d do anything for you.”
The words rattled around his brain as he followed her into the darkest corner of the café and pulled out her chair.
He couldn’t remember having feelings like this for a woman—ever. Usually all his devotion went into the family business, and his free time was spent blowing off steam.
Right now, steam thickened in the air between him and Alicia. It hovered over the white, cotton tablecloth and wound around the wooden chairs. Wisps licked around their fingers as they both reached for the crystal pitcher of water in the center of the table, and their fingers—almost—touched.
His palms prickled with the urge to run over the silky curves of her body. To strip off her soft white dress and watch her skin bead with perspiration as he drove her to new heights of bliss.
This steam was a delicious torment, and he had no desire to blow it off at all.
“Can you believe this storefront was originally built as a tea shop?”
“I can. Our ancestors were mad about tea. I hear they started a war over it once.”
Alicia smiled. “The Boston Tea Party happened at least a hundred years before this area was developed. Still, it’s reassuring to think that some things have stayed the same. We think we’re so advanced with our laptops and cell phones, but deep down, we enjoy the same things our ancestors did.”
He’d finished pouring water for both of them and she picked up her glass and took a sip. “Has your family always lived in the Houston area?”
An edge to her voice told him she was becoming increasingly curious about him. As well she might.
“Actually they’re not from the Houston area at all. They settled outside New Orleans at the end of the Pleistocene Era and they’re still there today. Well, my mom is. My dad died three years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Sorrow filled her big brown eyes.
“It was a merciful release. He’d been sick for a long time. That’s when I took over running the family business.”
“What kind of business is it?” She leaned forward.
“Transportation. Did you see they have crumpets on the menu?”
“Rick! You’re so mysterious. I’m beginning to be quite suspicious of you. What type of transportation?”
“Ferrying goods from place to place. Container shipping. Very unglamorous, I’m afraid.”
He glanced at the printed menu, hoping she’d drop the subject.
Duprees and shipping went together like tea and crumpets. Yes, she had to find out who he was eventually, but he’d prefer to have it happen someplace private, as he expected her reaction might be…dramatic.
“I think it sounds intriguing. So, you import and export goods from all over the world? That’s what Alex does.”
“Other people import and export them—people like Alex—and they pay money to bring their goods on our ships. We just get the goods from A to B. We used to run everything out of New Orleans, but back in the fifties we moved most of our operations to Houston, which is why I work here.”
He tapped his menu. “Hey, they’ve got quails’ eggs. I haven’t eaten those in years. I’m definitely having that. How about you?”
Alicia’s eyes narrowed. Apparently, she was hip to his desire to change the subject. “I’ll have the egg salad. They make it English style with a dash of curry powder.”
“A flash of heat just where you least expect it.”
“Exactly.” Her plump lips slid into an enticing smile. “I know I’m feeling flashes