Chapter One

      Tessa Pierce crossed then recrossed her legs. For the past ten years she had been on the other side of the desk during interviews, but that wasn’t the reason she was uncomfortable. Morgan Harper, owner and president of Harper Petroleum, didn’t so much make her nervous, just more on edge than she’d expected. She knew the workings of oil and gas companies, how to work for a single-minded boss. Mr. Harper affected her in a different way.

      “My assistant, Miss Ellis, knew exactly how I wanted things done,” he was saying. “She worked for my father, then me, so she had years of experience. Retiring was—” he paused “—appropriate considering her age. But I don’t have time to train someone new in every aspect of my business.”

      Tessa tilted her head in the direction of her résumé, laid neatly on his desk. “As you can see, I’ve had considerable experience in most areas of the oil and gas industry. Through its subsidiaries, Traxton has a hand in all stages of production.”

      Morgan didn’t glance at her résumé. Tessa had the uncanny feeling that he had memorized the document. “Ten years with one employer is unusual for someone your age.”

      “I joined Traxton Oil right out of college. And they promote from within.”

      Morgan placed two fingers at one temple, indenting the skin as though trying to ward off a headache. “You’ve been with them this long, so why make a change?”

      It was a question Tessa had prepped for and the truth had never failed her. “I want a new start because of my divorce.”

      His eyebrows lifted. “Houston’s a pretty big place. Not enough room in it for you and your ex?”

      “No,” she replied simply, evenly, definitively.

      He stared at her, his dark eyes appearing to bore for truth or deceit. “Cindy Mallory told me you intend to relocate to Rosewood. That the cottage that comes with the job is a big incentive. You should take into consideration that Rosewood’s nothing like the city.”

      Her voice remained even. “That’s what I’m counting on.”

      “If your references check out, when can you start?”

      “Immediately. I’ve already worked my two weeks’ notice.”

      “And if I don’t hire you?”

      “With my experience, someone in oil country will. But I would enjoy having a good friend here in town. Cindy and I have known each other since we were kids. And I like what I’ve seen of Rosewood. Houston’s invigorating, constantly busy. I’m not—” she cleared her throat “—in need of that right now.”

      “Bad divorce?” he asked.

      Her lips tightened.

      “Sorry. Not in the accepted lineup of interview questions. Then again I’ve never met anyone who claimed to have a good divorce, so I think I have my answer.” Abruptly he stood.

      Tessa stood as well, waiting for his decision.

      “If we can work out an acceptable salary and employment contract, I assume you’ll need some time to get moved.”

      “I brought the necessities. I can send for the rest of my things.”

      He glanced down at the calendar. “Since it’s Thursday, plan to start on Monday.”

      So it was a yes. She exhaled, fighting the urge to slump in relief. Perfect situations weren’t plentiful. And this one promised to be near ideal. Although Cindy had offered her guest room, Tessa didn’t want to impose. Since the divorce, she had needed a lot of downtime. Alone time, she admitted, hating that it was true. Time when she didn’t have to talk about her ex, Karl, why everything had gone so wrong. Why she was now alone.

      Morgan frowned. “Do you have transportation?”

      “My car,” she replied.

      He opened a drawer in his desk, then fished out a key. “Dorothy is my housekeeper. She’ll show you to the cottage.”

      Holding her portfolio and purse with one hand, she extended the other.

      He dropped the key into the palm of her hand. “I don’t know what Cindy told you, but the cottage isn’t anything elaborate. Miss Ellis was comfortable there, but I doubt it’s what you’re used to in Houston.”

      Tessa lifted her gaze, meeting his. “I’m sure it will be fine.” Anything without Karl, without memories, would be welcome.

      Morgan glanced at his watch. “You’ll find Dorothy in the rear hall. She’s expecting you.”

      Tessa drew her dark eyebrows together. “You were that sure I’d be right for the job?”

      He neither smiled nor scowled, but she saw a flicker of disapproval in his eyes. “Dorothy is just that good.”

      Tessa slipped the key into her jacket pocket, then extended her hand. “I look forward to Monday.”

      His handshake made her swallow. Silly. She was accustomed to shaking plenty of hands during business hours. Still... Tessa turned toward the doorway of the study, trying to focus on where the rear hall would be.

      * * *

      Morgan watched her walk away. Efficient. That had been apparent from her résumé and the first words of her interview. He had expected her to be. Cindy and Flynn Mallory were good friends and he knew they wouldn’t oversell Tessa’s abilities. But something else had also been apparent. Tessa was guarded. Very guarded. He had never been divorced, but he guessed it was an ugly process. For a woman who had been very rooted in her career and life, Tessa was acting like an outlaw on the run. Cindy had unconsciously reinforced that impression when she had told him that Tessa was solid and dependable. Ten years with Traxton. No moving around.

      Morgan hoped he hadn’t made a hasty decision. But piles of work were growing daily. Miss Ellis had been so efficient he hadn’t completely grasped how much work she took on. He rubbed his temples, wishing the headache away. He didn’t want to take more aspirin. They did little to help any longer. Get rid of the stress. Words his doctor repeated, his parents advised, his friends cautioned. As though he could wrap up the stress and mail it away like a package.

      “Daddy!” Poppy called out as she skipped through the doorway.

      His expression softened. “Right here.” Reaching out, he picked her up and settled her in his lap.

      “Guess what?” she asked in her most dramatic four-year-old voice.

      He infused his response with interest. “What?”

      She leaned close, as though imparting a state secret. “There’s a pretty lady in the back hall.”

      “Really?” he asked, managing to sound puzzled. “I have always thought Miss Dorothy was pretty.”

      “No, silly! Another lady!” Poppy’s big blue eyes widened.

      “Did you meet her?” he questioned, loving the joy Poppy found in everything.

      “Nope. I hid behind the drapes. In case she wasn’t ’posed to be in our house. She’s all dressed up like she’s going to church, the way Dorothy does.”

      Morgan flinched. Church wasn’t a subject he ever wanted to dwell on again. “Ladies dress that way to go to work, as well.”

      “Miss Ellis didn’t,” Poppy pointed out.

      No, Miss Ellis was the last of a dying breed. She had worn shirtwaist dresses to work each and every day. Unlike Tessa, who sported a chic contemporary silk suit. He guessed her dark hair was long but she had swept it up, so he couldn’t