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Chapter 12

STANDING IN FRONT OF A DARK GRAY MARBLE SINK WITH HIS face covered in shaving lather and his chest bare, Cole stroked the razor up his neck while he listened to the news on the television. In the study adjoining the bedroom, a large television screen was built into the wall behind a sliding panel.

His suitcase was open on the bed, packed for his trip to Los Angeles, and Michelle was mixing drinks for them in the dining room. CNN was introducing a guest they were about to interview: "In the years since Diana Foster conceived and executed a plan to turn her family's 'hobby' into a business, she's become not only the publisher of Foster's Beautiful Living magazine, but the president of a thriving Houston-based corporation that, under her leadership, has diversified into many areas, including television as well as the manufacture and sale of Foster's Products for the Home—a line of all-natural cleaning products."

Cole was rinsing his face when he heard the guest's name, and he assumed it was pure coincidence, but when the show's host also threw Houston into the equation, Cole straightened and grabbed a towel. He dabbed leftover shaving cream from his face as he strolled into the library and halted in front of the television.

A slow smile of pleasure and disbelief worked its way across his face as he gazed at Diana Foster's lovely image while the show's host continued with her bio: "In the last two years, Diana has appeared on the covers of People and Working Woman magazine. Articles have been written about her in newspapers from The New York Times to the Enquirer and Star. Working Woman called her 'an example of what a woman executive could—and should—be.' Cosmopolitan featured her in a cover story entitled 'Women with Beauty, Brains, and Bravery.' "

The host turned to his guest. "Diana, one news commentator dubbed you the 'High Priestess of Domestic Grace and Beauty.' How does all this make you feel?"

She laughed—the soft musical laugh Cole remembered from years gone by—and after all this time, the sight of those entrancing eyes and radiant smile still warmed him. "Flattered, of course," she said. "Unduly flattered, actually. Foster's Beautiful Living is a massive family effort, and I'm only one small part of it."

"You were only twenty-two when you decided to try to market what was, until then, only a well-known family lifestyle in Houston. Were you filled with youthful optimism, or did you have some fears about the risk you were taking when you founded the magazine?"

"I had only one fear," she said solemnly, but Cole grinned because he had known her well and he caught the almost imperceptible note of humor in her voice, "but it kept me awake nights for the first two years."

The host took her very seriously. "What was that one fear?"

She laughed. "Failure!" The host was still chuckling when she added, "And I really have to confess that some of my ancestors' wealth and prominence came from robbing banks and rustling cattle. In fact, until 1900, the most reputable one of them all was a professional gambler, and he was shot for cheating at cards in a Fort Worth saloon."

Standing in the center of the library with his feet bare, his fists on his hips, and a grin on his lips, Cole chuckled at her unaffected candor and wit.

Behind him, Michelle entered with a tray of drinks and hors d'oeuvres. "What's so funny?" she asked as she put the tray on the table and straightened, smoothing the wrinkles from her silk pants and shirt.

Cole shook his head without taking his eyes from Diana's face on the television screen.

"That's Diana Foster," she told him. Michelle was from a prominent Dallas family with important connections in Houston, and so she knew about all the proverbial skeletons in the closets of her own social set. "She capitalized on her family's reputation, borrowed a lot of money, and used it to start up a little business that the whole family worked in. No one figured they'd make it, but they've made it really big. Originally, Diana raised a lot of eyebrows when she started the whole thing up. Now she's made a lot of enemies, too."

Cole was instantly irate on Diana's behalf. "Why?"

"This is Texas, honey, remember? This is the home of the 'good-old-boy' network, where the myth of male superiority still prospers and where 'macho' is a holy word. In Texas, rich men pamper and patronize their wives and daughters. Wives and daughters are not supposed to strike out on their own, and if they do, they are definitely not supposed to succeed in a big way, let alone become more famous than the menfolk."

While Cole was still absorbing the unquestionable truth of what she said, Michelle ran her fingers through the short black hairs on his chest. "Diana Foster is also beautiful, unmarried, and very classy. When you add all that together, she's more likely to be envied than liked by my sex."

Cole looked down at her long aristocratic fingers with their vermilion nails as they played enticingly with the nerve endings in his chest. "Would that include you?" he asked, but he knew it wouldn't. At thirty-two, Michelle was too intelligent, too wise, and too clever to waste her time envying another woman. Besides, she had already picked out her candidate for her third husband, and Diana Foster was no threat to her.

"No," she said, tipping her head back and gazing into his eyes. "But, I'd trade places with her in ten seconds, if I could. I've already been a victim of all that 'pampering and patronizing' from my father and two husbands."

She was beautiful, candid, and a wildcat in bed. In addition to his sexual and intellectual attraction to her, Cole genuinely liked her. He linked his hands behind her back, pulling her close. "Why don't we go to bed so I can pamper and patronize you myself?"

She shook her head no and smiled seductively into his eyes.

"In that case," he countered in a husky, sensual voice, "we'll go to bed and I'll let you pamper and patronize me." Michelle never turned down a chance to go to bed with him, under any circumstances, and so he was surprised when she declined again. "Why don't you marry me instead?"

Cole's expression didn't change. He whispered one word, then bent his head and silenced her protests with his mouth. "No," he said.

"I could give you children," she said shakily when he lifted his head. "I'd like to have children."

Cole tightened his arms and seized her lips with a steamy passion that was in complete contrast to the icy finality of words. "I do not want children, Michelle."


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