Lone Star Holiday Proposal

Nolan understood where Justin Patterson was coming from, especially based on what Raina had said to him earlier. “I’m not in town for long and I respect your daughter too much to try to take advantage of her—although you misjudge her if you think she’d let me. So far, I think it’s safe to say that we like each other and I enjoy her company. JJ’s, too. Raina is safe with me.”

Justin narrowed his eyes at Nolan. “Dane, you said. Your father is Howard Dane?”

Nolan nodded. His father was well known in Royal and his family law practice was well respected.

“He’s a good man. Let’s hope the acorn didn’t fall far from the tree.”

With that, Justin turned and went into the kitchen where Nolan could hear him bustling around and putting the teakettle on. Raina came into the room with JJ trailing behind.

“Go see what Grandpa is up to, JJ,” she urged. “Maybe he’s making hot chocolate for bedtime.”

As the little boy scampered toward the kitchen, she looked at Nolan with an apologetic expression on her face.

“I’m sorry about that. He’s kind of protective.”

Nolan put up a hand. “No problem. He’s your dad. He’s entitled to be protective of you. So, are we okay? Shall we go?”

She nodded and called out, “We’re on our way, Dad. Call me if you need me!”

Judging by Justin’s grunt they were free to go.

Nolan helped Raina into her coat and held the front door for her as they went outside. Streetlamps shone like golden orbs in the air, casting light onto the road beneath them. He guided her to his SUV and closed the passenger door for her once she was settled.

As he climbed into his seat, Nolan saw a furtive movement near a bush a few yards away. His eyes strained to see what it was but it appeared there was nothing there. He shrugged it off as something he’d either imagined or perhaps an animal that was now long gone. But as he began to drive down the street, he caught a glimpse of a man briskly walking down the sidewalk.

There was something about the way the man carried himself and how he kept to the shadows that made Nolan’s instincts go on alert. As they cruised by in the SUV, the man furtively kept his face averted and hunched his shoulders. Sure, it was cold tonight—certainly too cold to be out casually walking anyway—which could explain the man’s posture, but even if he was out for a constitutional stroll, why was he doing his best not to be recognized? In his work Nolan had seen a lot of characters and to him it was clear that this guy didn’t want to be noticed.

Nolan didn’t want to alert Raina to his concerns. She was busy looking out the window at the other side of the road and therefore oblivious to what he had seen, but he remained uneasy. Had the guy been watching Raina?

The idea plagued him during the drive to the restaurant, even while Raina kept up a patter of general conversation, asking him about growing up in Royal. By the time they were seated and perusing their menus, Nolan had decided to put thoughts of the walker, whoever he was, from his mind. He was here to enjoy Raina’s company and he didn’t want anything to detract from that.

Later, when they were about to make their selections for dessert, his cell phone began buzzing persistently in his pocket.

“I’m sorry,” he said, sliding the device out to see who the caller was. Rafiq. Damn. His boss was hardly the kind of person he could hold a conversation with in front of Raina. “Will you excuse me a moment? I really need to take this call.”

“No problem.” She waved him on with a smile. “I need some time to decide on dessert anyway.”

He excused himself and, lifting the phone to his ear, he answered the call.

“Rafe, what can I do for you?”

“You can tell me how things are going with the Courtyard acquisition for a start,” his boss said without preamble.

“The Winslow woman is very resistant to selling.”

“The Winslow woman? What happened to Homer Winslow?”

“He has been removed by his board for mismanagement,” Nolan said, summarizing how Melanie Winslow had wrested control. He strongly suspected the proposed buyout of the Courtyard had been the catalyst for that. “Ms. Winslow now heads Winslow Properties.”

“But she’s a maid, isn’t she?”

Nolan fought back a smile. Rafiq was very modern and forward thinking in many ways, but in others he was still a throwback to his family’s roots in ancient Al Qunfudhah, on the coast of the Red Sea.

“Ms. Winslow has a very successful business providing house-cleaning and house-sitting services. She is quite a bit more than a maid, and she is proving to be adamantly opposed to the sale of the Courtyard.”