Free Don't Tempt Me by Julie Ortolon Page B

was good, he assured himself. Having Jackie fall for him would complicate things. He'd been through that with too many co-workers back in his days as assistant chef at Chez Lafitte. Still, he was starting to chafe at her cracks about his looks and taste in women. "You overestimate my appeal, and underestimate your own."
    "Oh yeah?" Her brows went up. "Are you saying you're ready to forsake your legions of admirers to pursue me and only me?"
    He studied her, thinking she was just a little too cocky from one-upping him last night. "I don't know." He let loose a sensual smile and lowered his eyelids halfway. "Are you willing to make it worth my while?"
    "Ha! In your dreams."
    "Oh yeah." The color that flooded her cheeks intrigued him. "I definitely had a few of those last night. How about you?"
    "Dreams?" She cocked her head, suddenly lost in her own thoughts. "I may have had a few myself."
    "Oh? Care to tell me about them?"
    She shook her head. "Why don't you tell me who all will be at this meeting?"
    "Changing the subject again." He sighed. "You're good at evasive actions."
    "The meeting ..." she prompted.
    "Okay, okay." He turned his mind toward business.
    "Chance's father, Norman Chancellor, is heading up the Historical Society subcommittee for this project, so he and his volunteers will be there. But that's about it, other than the marine archeologist they're hoping to hire."
    She straightened her arms against the steering wheel as if bracing herself. "I can't believe I'm really going through with this."
    He looked at her more closely. "You really are nervous, aren't you?"
    Terrified , she wanted to say, but just shook her head. For today, she was going to cross her fingers and hope for the best.
    They reached the Visitors' Center ---located in the historic district amid antique shops and art galleries ---and she pulled into a parking lot. Stepping out of the truck, Jackie noticed the tourists milling about the sidewalks. The smell of fresh seafood drifted on the air along with the sound of horse-drawn carriages. The tall masts of the Elissa rose above the restaurants and shops along the bay-side pier, marking the Texas Seaport Museum.
    "Looks like Scott and Alli are already here," Rory called to them as she freed the baby from the car seat. "But then, I guess we're running a little late."
    Watching Chance wrestle a stroller and diaper bag from the trunk, Jackie marveled that people with kids managed to go anywhere, much less be on time. Maybe it just took practice.
    When they entered the center, two elderly volunteers greeted them by name. Spying Lauren, the women came forward to coo in admiration. Jackie watched the parents' glowing pride, and felt the same tug of envy she'd felt last night watching Alli and Scott.
    "Is my father here?" Chance asked.
    "He's in the meeting room," one of the volunteers said.
    "Great." Chance extracted them from Lauren's admirers and led the way past bookshelves, brochures, and cases of souvenirs, to a door at the back.
    Jackie followed them into a small meeting room where Scott and Allison stood with a handful of other people eating pastries and drinking coffee. She felt the excitement like a tangible buzz in the air, and realized how important this project would be, not just to the St. Claires, but to the whole town. The museum exhibit would offer a new attraction to a town that thrived on tourism.
    And Jack Kinglsey would finally have the recognition he deserved for his contribution to the South during the war.
    Moving toward the table with the coffee service, she let her gaze drift toward two men who stood apart from the others. The taller of the two looked so much like Chance, tall and thin with that sheen of "old money," she knew he had to be Norman Chancellor. The stockier man had his back to her, but held himself with a controlled strength that stirred some distant memory. Then, he turned enough for her to see his profile, and her stomach dropped to her feet. Carl Ryder.
    She stopped