World's Most Eligible Texan (2 page)

“W
ell, I can tell you what's making you nauseated, Pamela.”

She sat on the examining table with her legs crossed, the silly light cotton gown covering her as she faced white-haired Doctor Woodbury who had been treating her since she was born. She tilted her head to one side and waited, long accustomed to his blunt manner.

“You're pregnant.”

“Pregnant!” Pamela's head swam and she clutched the table she was seated on with both hands.
Pregnant. It was only once. One night three weeks ago. She couldn't be.

Dr. Woodbury was talking, but she didn't hear anything except the ringing in her ears. Her teaching job—they wouldn't want her.
Pregnant! She was going to have a baby. Baby…baby…
The word echoed in her mind. Impossible! But of course, it was possible. That night with Aaron Black. She closed her eyes and clung tightly to the cold metal, feeling as if she were going to faint.

“Knowing you as I've done through all these years, I'm guessing you'll want to keep this baby.”

Dr. Woodbury's words cut through the wooziness she was experiencing.
…keep this baby…

She opened her eyes and placed her hand protectively against her stomach. “Yes! Of course, I'll keep my baby,” she snapped, her head clearing swiftly. How could he think she wouldn't!

His blue eyes gazed undisturbed at her as he shrugged stooped shoulders. “After she had you, your mother had two abortions. She wasn't having any more babies.”

“I'm not my mother,” Pamela said stiffly, suddenly seeing how not only Dr. Woodbury, but everyone else in town would see her—with morals as loose as her mother's had been. The town tramp. That was what Dolly Miles had been called too many times. Pamela remembered the teasing, the whispers, and worse, the steady stream of men who came and went through the Miles's tiny house.

She was shocked to learn there had been two abortions. When she thought about it, though, she wasn't surprised. Dolly thought of no one except herself. Two abortions. Pamela had a strange sense of loss. She might have had brothers or sisters. She pressed her hand against her stomach as she tried to focus on what Dr. Woodbury was saying.

“I'm keeping my baby.”

“I thought you would,” he said complacently. “You seem in perfectly good health. I'm going to put you on some vitamins, and then you make an appointment to come back this time next month.”

The rest of the hour she moved in a daze that lasted through running errands, getting her vitamins and heading to the Royal Diner to eat. It was early for lunch and the diner would be empty, which suited her fine. Right now she didn't feel like seeing anyone. Thank heavens Aaron Black had gone back to Spain. She would have three or four months before her pregnancy would show, so she would have to make her plans in that time.

The brisk wind was chilly, catching the door to the diner and fluttering the muslin curtains at the windows, following her into the diner in a gust that swirled dried leaves around her feet. The little brass bell over the door tinkled. She glanced at the long, Formica counter top, the red vinyl-covered barstools and headed toward an empty booth along the wall. The jukebox was quiet. She put her head in her hands, her elbows propped on the table, while she thought about her pregnancy.

“Hi, Pamela,” came a sharp voice, and she looked up at Sheila Foster, who plopped a plastic-coated menu into her hands. The Royal Diner—Food Fit For A King! was lettered across the top. Trying to focus on the words, Pamela skimmed the menu and ordered one of Manny's delicious hamburgers and a chocolate malt, knowing she would have to start thinking in terms of healthy meals because of the baby. The baby. She was going to have a baby. She was pregnant!

She couldn't believe the news. First sheer terror had gripped her because she didn't know how to be a mother and being unwed and pregnant was still scandalous in Royal, Texas. But the terror was quickly replaced with awe. And then when Dr. Woodbury had asked her if she would keep her baby, reality had come and she'd known she wanted her baby with every fiber in her body.

A precious baby all her own. She had never once expected to have her own baby. She had rarely dated. What Aaron had found in her, even for one night, she couldn't imagine. Except she had easily fallen into his arms, succumbed to his charms, returned his lovemaking with unbridled passion.

As she sat waiting for her lunch, her mind went back to that magical night of the Texas Cattleman's Club gala.

 

The gala had been given to celebrate the European dignitaries who were visiting Royal from Asterland and Obersbourg and to thank the members of the local Texas Cattleman's Club for their help in the rescue of Princess Anna von Oberland, now married to Greg Hunt. It was a glittering array of diplomats and titled people including Asterland's Lady Helena
Reichard. It had been a cold, clear night, and when Pamela had walked into the light and warmth of the ballroom, she had wondered what she was doing there. Yet, it had sounded like fun when Thad Delner, her recently widowed principal, had told her he had to make an appearance and would she like to go, since his invitation included a guest.

While Thad had talked to friends and she had talked to people she knew, they'd drifted apart. As she stood in a circle of acquaintances, she felt compelled to turn. Glancing across the room, she looked into the green-eyed gaze of a tall, ruggedly handsome man. Looking dashing in his black tux and white shirt, he had stared at her too intently, a little too long to be a casual glance. Broad-shouldered yet lean, he had short, neatly combed dark brown hair. His features were rugged with a prominent bone structure, but it was his thickly lashed green eyes that mesmerized and held her.

As she gazed back at him, time was suspended. Her pulse jumped: it was as if he had reached across the room and touched her.

Then Justin Webb had spoken to him, and he'd turned away to talk to his friend.

She knew who he was. Aaron Black. Older, an American diplomat stationed abroad, he was from Royal. Everyone in town knew the Black family. Old money, but down-to-earth good people.

Trying to concentrate and forget the look from the disturbing stranger, she turned back to the conversation at hand.

And then she was looking into his eyes only a few feet from her as he extended his hand. “Fun party. I'm Aaron Black.” His voice was low, husky and mellow. She'd placed her hand in his and his grip was solid, his fingers warm, curling around hers.

“I'm Pamela Miles.”

“Native?”

“Yes,” she'd answered, wondering how he could possibly not know. She'd thought everyone in town knew Dolly Miles, and that Dolly had a daughter.

“I haven't spotted your date hovering over you.”

She'd laughed. “You won't. I'm here with Thad Delner, my principal. I teach second grade at Royal Elementary, and Thad has been recently widowed. He had an invitation for tonight, and thought he needed to attend briefly to represent Royal Elementary, so he asked if I would like to come along. I've never been to one of these balls before.”

“Well, since no date will be breathing down my neck—want to dance?”

When she'd nodded, he'd taken her arm to steer her to the dance floor and then she was closer than ever to him, aware of the cottony scent of his stiffly starched shirt, his cologne. Her fingers brushed his neck as she put her arm on his shoulder to dance. His hand holding hers was warm. They moved together as if they had danced with each other forever.

His cheekbones were prominent and his lower lip full, sensual. She realized she was staring at his mouth, and her gaze flew back up to meet his. She saw fires in the depth of his emerald eyes. Once again her gaze was caught and held by his and conversation fled while her heart drummed. As the moment stretched, making her breathless, tension crackled between them. With an effort of will she looked away.

“Tell me about your life, Pamela,” he said. “You're here with your principal. Does this mean there's no guy in your life right now?”

“Yes, it does. I lead an ordinary teacher's life except I'm going to Asterland in two days as an exchange teacher.”

“You're the one!” Aaron's eyebrow arched, and he tilted his head as he leaned away slightly to study her. “This is my lucky day. I'm with the American Embassy in Spain. On weekends we can see each other,” he said with a warmth in his voice that sent a tingle through her. “Lucky Asterland. It's a pretty place. Very different from West Texas,” he drawled.

She laughed. “I'd imagined that.”

She'd listened to him talk as they danced through two more dances, and then his arm had tightened and they were dancing cheek-to-cheek and her pulse was racing.

She'd danced once with Matt Walker, an old friend and one of the local ranchers, and then Aaron was back, claiming her for another dance. And she was aware of other women watching Aaron, and she knew they wanted to be dancing with him, and she could understand why they did. As they'd spun around the floor to a fast number, she looked at women in fancy gowns they had bought for thousands of dollars in elegant boutiques here in Royal or in stores in Dallas and Houston while she was in her simple black sheath she had purchased for a little over fifty dollars. She was amazed that Aaron was dancing with her—amazed and glad. And in some ways, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to be in his arms, moving with him, looking into his green eyes.

After an hour, between dances, Thad Delner had joined them. As soon as she introduced him to Aaron, Thad had turned to her to tell her he was ready to leave. Before he could finish, Aaron broke in.

“I'll take Pamela home, Mr. Delner. I'm glad you brought her.”

Thad Delner's blue eyes focused on her with a questioning look. “Is that all right with you, Pamela?”

She'd nodded, breathless, amazed Aaron was offering to take her home “Yes, it's fine,” she said, looking at Aaron, whose rugged handsomeness made her heart race.

“All right. You two go back to your dancing. I'll talk to you before you leave for Asterland, Pamela.”

“Thanks for bringing me, Thad,” she'd said and then she was back in Aaron's arms to dance again.

When he'd invited her to come by his house for a drink, and she'd accepted, the dreamlike quality of the evening continued. At Pine Valley, an exclusive area of fine homes, Aaron slowed for large iron gates to open. As a gate swung back, he drove past it and waved at the guard.

The stately mansions sobered her. The lawns were vast and well-cared-for, the houses imposing, and his world of wealth and privilege seemed light years from her world of teaching and budgeting and ordinary living.

“Why so quiet?” Aaron asked. The lights of the dash threw the flat planes of his cheeks into shadow. When he looked at her, she could feel his probing look. Handsome, dashing, he was incredibly unique.

“I was just thinking about the differences in our lives,” she said, looking at the palatial Georgian-style houses with sweeping, constantly tended lawns. “We're very different, you and I,” she said solemnly.

“Thank heavens,” he said lightly and picked up her hand to brush her knuckles across his cheek. “If you were just like me, I wouldn't be taking you home with me now, I can promise.”

She smiled at him and relaxed, but the feeling returned again when they entered his house and he turned off an alarm.

“Gates, guards and alarms. You're well-protected.”

He shrugged. “This is a family home. Ninety percent of the time, no one lives here,” he said, taking her arm as he switched on a low light in the entryway.

“I'm sorry you lost your parents,” she said, remembering headlines several years ago that had told about the plane crash in Denmark when his parents and six other Texans had been killed.

“Thanks. What about your parents?”

“They're deceased,” she said stiffly, amazed again that he didn't know about her mother. She had never known her father and wasn't certain her mother even knew which man fathered her.

Aaron had led her through a kitchen and down a wide hall into a large family room elegantly furnished with plush navy leather and deeply burnished cherrywood furniture. An immense redbrick fireplace was at one end of the room and a thick Oriental rug covered part of the polished oak floor. He crossed the room to the fireplace to start the fire and in minutes the logs blazed. Following him into the room, she wandered around to look at oil paintings of western scenes. When she glanced back at him, he'd shed his tux coat. As her gaze ran across his broad shoulders, she drew a deep breath. He re
moved his tie and unfastened his collar and there was something so personal in watching him shed part of his clothing, that her cheeks flushed.

As soon as he moved to the bar, he glanced at her. “Wine, beer, whiskey, soda pop, what would you like to drink?”

“White wine sounds fine,” she answered, watching his well-shaped hands move over sparkling crystal while she sat on a corner of the cool leather sofa. He joined her, handing her a glass. When he sat down, he raised his glass. “Here's to tonight, the night we met, Pamela,” he said softly and his words were like a caress.

While she smiled at him, she touched her glass lightly to his. “You think tonight is going to be memorable? You're a sweet-talkin' devil, Aaron Black. You're dangerous,” she said, flirting with him and watching his green eyes sparkle. Yet even as she teased him, she had a feeling that his words,
tonight, the night we met,
would stick with her forever.

“I'm dangerous? I think that's good news,” he said, sipping his wine and setting it on the large glass and cherrywood table in front of them. He scooted closer to her and reached out, picking up locks of her hair and letting them slide through his fingers. She was too aware of his faint touches, his knuckles just barely brushing her throat and ear and cheek. “Now why am I dangerous?”