There was a flicker of pain in his eyes as he spoke, but it was quickly masked by the return of his cold indifference to her. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, before turning and marching quickly from the conference room.
Cecelia was left standing there, a little shell-shocked from their encounter. He said she was the best at what she did, but she could read between the lines—except when it came to us. She excelled in business but was a miserable failure when it came to love.
Deacon might be willing to hire her to do a job she was well capable of, but it was clear that he wasn’t about to forgive her for what she’d done to him.
* * *
Deacon had made a mistake.
The minute Cecelia had strolled into that conference room, it had felt as though someone had punched him in the stomach. He’d tried to maintain the appearance of the confident, arrogant businessman, but on the inside he felt anything but. His chest was constricted, and he couldn’t breathe. His heart was racing like he was in the middle of a marathon. He had thought he would be immune to her after all this time, but he was wrong.
Cecelia had been wearing a smart, tailored ivory-and-gold suit that accented every curve of her womanly figure. That certainly wasn’t the body he remembered. She was still petite, but she had grown up quite a bit since he saw her last. He was still attempting to recover from the tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage at the V of her blouse when she smiled at him and flipped her long blond curls casually over her shoulder.
Instantly, he knew he was lost.
What the hell was he thinking coming back here? And an even better question, why had he insisted that Shane give Cecelia the opportunity to compete for the design job? He had all but guaranteed that he would come face-to-face with her like this. It was a terrible idea.
Cecelia had begun her presentation talking about fabrics and furniture details he really didn’t give a damn about. He’d hardly heard a word she said. His mind was clouded with the scent of her perfume, reminding him of hot nights in the back of his pickup truck. It was the same scent she’d worn in high school. He’d had to save up for two months to be able to afford a bottle of it for her birthday.
Now all he could think about was her naked, willing body sprawled out beneath his own, his nose buried in her throat, drawing her scent deep into his lungs. They had dated for only six months during their senior year, but they had been some of the best months of his life. Deacon hadn’t been sure what he was going to do with his life or if he was ever going to make something of himself, but he instantly knew that he wanted Cecelia to be a part of his future. He couldn’t remember how many times they’d made love, but he knew it hadn’t been enough.
Looking at her during the presentation, as she’d gestured toward a watercolor rendering of a guest suite, all he could see was the younger Cecelia sitting on his tailgate smiling at him.
Suddenly, every muscle in his body had tensed, every nerve firing sparks of need through him. Occasionally, Cecelia’s gaze would flick over him and his throat threatened to close. He’d gripped the arm of his executive chair, trying to ground himself and calm down. It had been no way to act during a professional board meeting. If she had finished her briefing early, he wouldn’t have been able to stand up to thank her without embarrassing himself.
Deacon thought that returning to Royal as a successful real estate developer would change things. But every ounce of cockiness and confidence seemed to fly out the window the moment he’d laid eyes on Cecelia. Suddenly, he was an awkward teenager again. His old insecurities washed over him. He hadn’t been good enough for her then, and for some reason he didn’t feel good enough for her even now.
Of course, it hadn’t helped that their last conversation on graduation night had been her breaking up with him. He didn’t know exactly what had made her change her mind. Up until that point, she’d been very enthusiastic about their plans and their future together. Then, suddenly, she’d turned a one-eighty on him and walked away.
Deacon had always known he wasn’t the kind of boy the Morgans wanted for their daughter. He didn’t come from a good family, he was poor and he worked with his hands. He was certain that Brent and Tilly were thrilled that Cecelia had chosen someone like Chip Ashford, former captain of the football team, Texas senator, son of one of the most respected and wealthy families in Houston. He had a bright future ahead of him, no doubt.
Damn him for putting himself in this position, knowing he would be drawn to Cecelia as he always had been, but once again unable to have what he wanted.
He had to remind himself that he hadn’t returned to Royal to seduce Cecelia. That wasn’t why he’d asked her to do this presentation, either. He had come back to prove to her, and everyone else in the small-minded little town, that he was better than them. To show them that he could take his humble beginnings and still manage to create an empire faster than any of them could manage to inherit. He’d come back to make Cecelia regret her decision. To make the Morgans regret their decision. Nothing more.
When he completed his mission and opened his new hotel, Deacon would return to Europe, indulge his vices and forget all about the cliquish and unimportant people of Royal, Texas.
Well, he doubted he’d forget abou
t Cecelia.
He’d only thought it was hard being around Cecelia while she did her presentation. Being alone with her had been agonizing. What was he going to do now that she would be working at his hotel nonstop until it opened? He wouldn’t be able to get away from her even if he wanted to. And he didn’t.
He felt like an idiot as he strolled down the hallway to the office Shane had provided for him while he was in town. He felt like he’d run away from Cecelia. He should’ve been more confident, indifferent, as though she’d had no impact on him at all.
Just as he sat down at his desk, Shane appeared in his doorway. “A successful day, I’d say! We not only have a hotel, but the guests won’t be sleeping on the floor. What do you say we go down to the Texas Cattleman’s Club and celebrate with a drink?”
Deacon arched a brow at his friend. He’d never set foot in that building before. He hadn’t even been good enough to clean their pool back in high school. “I’m not a member,” he pointed out. “And I’m sure there are plenty of people in the club who would see to it that I never get to be one of them.”
Shane dismissed him. “You are certainly welcome as my guest. And if you really wanted to be in the club I could sponsor you. I’m sure few people would have the nerve to speak up against me. Lately, the uproar has been more about the Maverick scandals, and I’m pretty sure that doesn’t involve you. Aside from that, there are still a few folks sore that women can become members of the club. You should’ve heard some of the bitching when the billiards room was converted to a day care. I’m sure they’d be happy to admit you and counteract the appearance that it’s turning into a henhouse instead of a clubhouse.”
Deacon had never entertained the idea of joining the club. And all things considered, he really didn’t want anything to do with an organization that had just decided in the past few years that women were worthy of participating. But he wouldn’t be rude about it because he knew Shane was a member and enjoyed it. “No thanks. I think I’m going to finish up a few things here and call it a night. There is a T-bone steak in the fridge that’s begging to be grilled tonight, and I can’t disappoint it.”
Shane smiled. “Okay, if you insist. But I’m going to drag you down there one day, though.”
“Why? What’s so great about a bunch of people sitting around in cowboy hats—which I don’t own—talking about cattle and horses—which I’m not interested in?”
“Well, for one thing, the restaurant makes the finest steaks you’ll ever eat. The bartenders pour a perfectly balanced dry martini. It’s a nice place to hang out, have a drink and chat with friends.”