“You’re not from the Lone Star State?” she asked as she belted her coat. She stepped around him to retrieve her purse and gloves from the living room.
“Actually, I’m from Dallas, so as a native, I can indulge in a little mild criticism.”
Amy smiled at his rationale. “I know what you mean. We can say what we want, but just let some Yankee belittle our state…”
Grayson Phillips smiled. “Shall we go? I understand you’d like to show off a bit for the folks in Austin.”
Amy stopped beside the front door, her mouth gaping once again. “Who told you that?” Her lips thinned as she frowned. “No, let me guess. You’ve been talking to my father.”
“I saw him at the bank yesterday.”
“The man talks entirely too much.”
“He’s a charmer.”
“He’s a meddling old…never mind.” Amy squared her shoulders and clasped her purse to her side. “I’m sorry if you feel railroaded into this. I’d understand if you didn’t want to go.”
“On the contrary, Dr. Amy,” he said, a flash of real amusement in his silvery eyes. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Great looks and humor, too. As he graciously escorted her toward his luxury car, Amy realized that was why Grayson Phillips really was the best blind date in Texas.
DR. AMY WHEATLEY WASN’T quite what he’d expected, Gray acknowledged as he pulled out of Ranger Springs onto the state highway. For one thing, no one had mentioned she was beautiful. Descriptions he’d heard had focused on her achievements in high school, college and medical school rather than her shining dark brown hair and lively blue eyes. Her father, and the rest of the community, for that matter, were very proud of their small-town girl.
Not just beautiful, though. She was also feminine and gave the impression of being slightly vulnerable. She’d obviously been trying to be as polite as he when he’d first arrived at her door. But during the few minutes they’d gotten acquainted at her home, she’d shown a wide range of emotions, from surprise to shyness to exasperation over her father’s meddling. While Gray had perfected the control he exerted over his own emotions and expressions, he appreciated Amy’s honest responses.
“I’ve heard a little about your new facility in town. What exactly do you produce?” she asked.
“Basically, Grayson Industries makes high-tech surveillance devices. Our main market is government as opposed to consumers who want to listen to what their neighbors are saying.”
He risked a glance at her. She appeared surprised, then perplexed. “You mean my neighbors could be eavesdropping on me? Or, worse yet, the government?”
Gray chuckled. “The technology has been around for years, so we’re not providing any less privacy to the average citizen than already exists. My company simply makes smaller, more flexible instruments for specialty surveillance situations.”
“You mean like spies?”
Gray smiled. He’d heard this all before, but he knew Amy’s worries were real to her. “There really aren’t too many James Bonds out there.”
“No, but isn’t industrial espionage on the rise?”
“It’s getting more sophisticated, but with computers and the Internet, more violations are occurring via online theft than through listening devices.”
“Hmm.” She paused as she looked at the fading sunset. “Still, doesn’t it worry you that your products will enable some criminals to steal secrets?”
“No more than if I made modems that allowed some hacker to access the Internet,” he answered, negotiating a series of turns as they traveled north through the rolling hills. “I’m not trying to justify what I do, because I don’t see anything wrong with developing the technology to have an edge over those who would like to harm our country.”
“It’s kind of creepy, though, don’t you think?”
“Not when you invented it,” he said, smiling at her through the gloom of near darkness. “Don’t worry, though. I promise I didn’t plant any bugs in your house, nor will I sit outside in an unmarked van with an earplug and a big antenna.”
“That’s comforting—I think,” she said, partially in jest, he assumed. “So, what brought you to Ranger Springs?”
“Available labor, a good cost of living and quality schools. We’d been in Dallas for several years, but the competition for skilled workers up there is crazy. I decided I could take advantage of the labor market down here and train our employees in the skills they needed. Most of our engineers and research staff relocated after visiting the Hill Country.”
“Did you bring them down to visit when the blue-bonnets and Indian paintbrush were blooming?”
“Of course,” he answered with a grin. Few areas of the world surpassed the beauty of the Texas Hill Country in the spring, when the blue and red flowers dotting the hills resembled an Impressionist’s canvas. When birds soared through the sky and filled the day with song, and the air smelled so fresh and clear a person wanted to join in the singing.
Darkness descended as Gray drove through the rural rolling hills, then into the traffic of Dripping Springs and the outskirts of Austin. Inside the car, he felt isolated from the world, enveloped in the scent of Amy’s light perfume and the softness of her voice. She would have a great bedside manner, he told himself, then stopped his wayward thought. He wasn’t getting anywhere near Amy Wheatley’s bed, nor she near his. One date with any woman was enough. Two and they started expecting commitment. A month, and they were picking out rings.
He wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice, especially now when he had everything he’d worked to achieve.
He knew the hotel where the fund-raiser was taking place, so he pulled into valet parking with time to spare.
“Ready to knock them dead?”
“I’m supposed to save lives, not take them,” she quipped as the attendant opened her car door.
Gray waited until they passed through the glass doors before he leaned close to her ear. “Believe me, you, in that dress, could cause a few heart attacks.”
She laughed and shook her head. “Grayson Phillips, has anyone ever told you you’re a smooth-talking devil?”
How could he answer that question without admitting his greatest strength, and perhaps his biggest weakness? He’d learned at a young age that most people—especially his successful parents—weren’t interested in how he really felt. Outward appearances made all the difference in the world. So he’d learned to become what people expected, and later, what they wanted. Most women wanted a suave, sophisticated date who focused all his attention on them.
So he simply smiled and answered, “That sounds like something your father would say.”
She cocked her head and wrinkled her brow. “You know, you’re right. Maybe there’s more of him in me than I realized.”
“We are a product of our environment,” he said, thinking of his own divorced parents and his ex-wife. What had he learned from those experiences? The notion sobered him, and he put on another smile to cover his darker thoughts.
With a light touch to Amy’s arm, he stopped her in the wide, carpeted hallway leading to the ballroom. “Are you ready?”
“Unless I can pull a good reason out of a hat in the next five seconds.”
“Sorry, but I’m not wearing a hat.”
“Then I guess we’ll have to go in.”
He took a step forward, but her touch on his forearm stopped him. “Gray, I want to thank you again for being my escort this evening. I could have