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marketing. Was it any wonder her imagination had gone into overdrive at the sight of his brother’s place? “Clearly, you need more sleep.”
    She turned up her nose and looked out the window again. The limousine halted in front of the house with its stone entrance and Moorish-style arch and without waiting for the driver, he pushed open the door and climbed out of the car. The drive from San Antonio hadn’t taken all that long, but he still felt stiff and cramped from being on the plane in the first place.
    Drew liked space.
    It was one of the reasons he liked living in San Diego so well. Whenever he wanted space around him, he just headed for the beach. How much more space could a man need when he was staring out at the rolling waves of the Pacific Ocean?
    Still, his gaze ran over the house that his oldest brother had bought, pretty much out of the clear blue sky a few years ago, when he’d transplanted himself lock, stock and barrel from Los Angeles to Texas. J.R. had given up his position at the headquarters of Fortune Forecasting, as well as his designer suits and cars and coffee, in favor of jeans and cattle and pickups. He’d also quickly turned around and married Isabella Mendoza, who’d helped him decorate the place.
    It had been a year since Drew had last seen Molly’s Pride and even though it was well past midnight, he could see the property and the two-hundred-year-old hacienda gleamed with care.
    He pulled open Deanna’s door and she climbed out, her somewhat-awed gaze still focused on the house rather than Drew. Which was a good thing becausehe still felt like he was about ready to bust out of his jeans.
    Maybe it would’ve helped if she hadn’t changed. If she’d just stayed in that boxy, matronly looking suit that she’d worn to the office.
    All her suits were the same. They all disguised the fact that her rear was pretty much made for filling out a snug pair of soft blue denims.
    Annoyed with his thoughts, he left her to gather her tote and jacket and grabbed their few bags from the trunk when the driver opened it. “I’ve got ’em. Thanks.” He gave the guy a generous tip that earned him an enthusiastic smile.
    â€œThank you, Mr. Fortune. Happy New Year. You, too, ma’am.” The driver slammed the trunk shut and quickly climbed back behind the wheel, no doubt anxious to get on with his own celebrating. A moment later, the long vehicle was driving off, leaving him and Deanna standing there alone in the moonlight.
    It felt intensely…intimate. And despite the chill in the air, he felt hotter than ever.
    At any other time, he would have probably found the situation ironically humorous.
    Right now, he just felt like he was ready to put his head in a noose, and was almost—almost—glad to do it.
    She was watching him, her eyes looking dark and mysterious, though the way she moistened her lips warned him that she was more likely just nervous as hell. “Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?”
    The only thing he was sure of right then was that he was having a heck of a time remembering why he should not be wanting her the way he was.
    He freshened his grip on her suitcase—one of thosehard-sided kind of things invented long before rollers had come along—and turned toward the arched entrance, gesturing with his chin. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
    She moistened her lips again, leaving them even more softly shiny, and walked ahead of him through the arch that led to a massive wood door.
    â€œBetter knock,” he advised. It was hours past the time he’d warned J.R. that he’d be arriving, and he figured walking in might not be such a good idea. God only knew if J.R. had taken to keeping loaded weapons at the ready along with his other Texas rancher ways…
    She reached out and knocked tentatively on the door.
    â€œCome on, Dee. They’re never gonna hear that.”
    She gave him a