Page 5 of A Texas Hero

Last night, he’d given himself a pep talk. He just had to get through this big party of hers. He figured in about two weeks or less, the daughter would be so sick of his interference—or her boyfriend would be so jealous—that she’d beg her father to call off the dogs. She’d be tired of him in a week, and he would have shown himself to be a team player.

Archer arrived as scheduled to meet his client, who he expected would not be happy to see him. When he opened the door to the shop, the door chime rang in a tune that sounded like angels on high. A woman immediately greeted him with a smile, and Archer nearly swallowed his tongue. What were the odds this woman was his assignment? He couldn’t possibly get that lucky.

This woman had long legs and wore a yellow shirt and matching skirt that accentuated every curve. Her dark brown hair fell around her gorgeous face in ringlet curls, and she had a smile that could stop time.

It could also stop the power of speech, apparently.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m Zoey, the owner. Can I help you find something?”

Dio mio. He’d reached a new level of anxiety because now his thoughts were in Italian.

This had to be Zoey Lambert. He loosened his tie because suddenly it was way too hot in here.

When he didn’t reply right away, she must have felt compelled to fill the silence. “I don’t have very many male customers…” She looked behind him. “Are you alone?”

“Yes,” he said, with a dry throat, tamping down his accent. “I work alone.”

She laughed. “That’s cute. Well, shopping can be considered work if you think of it that way. But I’m here to make it fun. I can direct you to a few one-of-a-kind items I carry. What size does she wear?”

“Size?”

She seemed to be…saying words…indicating she thought he was a customer. He should correct her, but he was too busy watching her glide across the floor like a dream.

“Yes. Dress size, or shoe size? You don’t know?” She cocked her head and stared at him as if he was a simpleton. “Is she about my size?”

“Oh, um…uh…”

Why couldn’t he just tell her the truth? Speak, Archer! Speak!

“She’s probably shorter than me. I’m pretty tall for a woman. I’ve got some gorgeous vintage boots that just came in. Do you happen to know her shoe size at least?”

Archer was still staring at her. Any minute now, he’d think of something to say so she’d stop mistaking him for a customer.

He shook his head.

“Oh, well, you’re not much help at all, are you?” She laughed and tossed her hair. “How about some jewelry? You can never go wrong with that, but unfortunately my pieces, while vintage, are costume. If you want something spendy like a diamond, you’ll have to go to the jeweler.”

She began to sort through necklaces, pulling out one with blue and greens stones set in gold, holding it up for him to inspect. Then she put it down and held up a sapphire ring. She quirked a brow, those chocolate brown eyes devouring his soul.

Archer held up a palm. “No, no. You do not understand. I am not here to buy anything.”

“Then, what?” Understanding seemed to dawn in her eyes and she put the ring down and slowly backed up.

“Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand. “I am Archer Rossi, your new bodyguard.”

Zoey dropped the ring. “Oh, hell, no.”

Chapter Three

Did the universe mean to tell Zoey that this hunk was her bodyguard? She’d expected a middle-aged, burly, balding fatherly type with a gut. Instead, this handsome devil with jet-black hair, dressed in a suit and tie and speaking with a light Italian accent had arrived like some kind of early Sweetheart Day gift.

She couldn’t stop chatting, which was her fallback when nervous. Mami, are you messing with me from heaven? She’d been envying the lucky lady he’d come in to shop for, wondering why she had never met a man like this. But he was here for her. Well, not here for her. Here to perform a job for her father. Like most men she met, he was already indebted to her father. This time through actual employment and not hero worship, but either way. Indebted.

“There’s been a mistake,” Zoey said.

“I do not think so.” He clasped his hands in front of him and slowly shook his head. “No mistake.”

She held up a finger. “Let me make a call. I’ll be right with you.”