Seducing the Heiress by Martha Kennerson

and took a seat at the table. “Let’s eat,” he said.
    Farrah took the seat across from Robert and studied her selections. “So when we—”
    â€œNo,” Robert said, waving his hand in front of his face. “No more business. Not tonight.”
    â€œWell, we’re certainly not talking about our ill-fated relationship.” Farrah placed two steak sliders on her plate. “So what should we talk about?”
    Robert added two sliders to the wings he’d already plated. “How about we discuss your latest moves in our Fantasy League?”
    â€œWhat about them?” Farrah asked with a slider halfway to her mouth.
    â€œYou benched a world-class defensive end so a mediocre running back could play.”
    â€œSays you... That mediocre running back is starting this week. I have a good feeling about him.” Farrah took a bite of her sandwich.
    â€œWell, enjoy that feeling. That’s about the only real pleasure you’ll be getting from that experience.” Robert held Farrah’s gaze as he, too, took a bite of his sandwich.
    In spite of their differing opinion on the recent NFL trades and the fact that Farrah was kicking Robert’s butt in their Fantasy Football League, they had a relaxing evening just like a real couple.
    When that realization hit, Farrah admonished herself for such thoughts. Get it together, girl. This distant, business-only, platonic relationship is what you wanted. Deal with it.
    * * *
    Robert spent the night fighting his desire for Farrah. He’d nearly lost all control when Farrah had leaned back into him, especially with her soft shoulders and erect nipples calling to him. Robert found the will to step away after he noticed how white Farrah’s knuckles had become as she gripped the table. Seeing how his nearness affected her, too, reinforced his resolve. He had to lose a few battles if he wanted to win the war. The constant arousal he felt when she was near was getting to him, but Farrah was worth the discomfort.
    It was a little before noon when they landed at Houston’s Hobby Airport. They made their way through the VIP terminal for private jet owners to his waiting car.
    â€œThanks, Jimmy,” Robert said to the stocky valet who started loading their bags into the trunk of a black Mercedes.
    â€œWhere’s the Porsche?” Farrah asked, rifling her bag for her Chanel sunglasses.
    â€œI had Jeremy bring the sedan and take the Porsche back to my place. I knew we’d need the room.”
    â€œOh,” Farrah said, giving him the side-eye.
    â€œFor the luggage,” he clarified.
    Farrah grimaced as she slipped on the sunglasses.
    â€œMy mother’s expecting us for lunch. I hope you don’t mind.”
    â€œYour mother?” she asked, returning her eyeglass case to her bag. “And what do you mean us ?”
    â€œThe woman who raised me,” he clarified.
    â€œYou mean your foster mother.”
    â€œI don’t call her that. We’re closer than that. She called last night while you were in the shower to remind me of our standing date,” he explained as he held the door open for her.
    Farrah stared up at him and frowned. “Your mother called...about lunch...when I left to take a shower?”
    Robert could see that something he’d said confused her but he couldn’t figure out what it could be. “Yes.”
    â€œTo remind you of your lunch date,” she repeated.
    â€œYes,” he replied. “So, will you join me?”
    Farrah bit down on her bottom lip as she looked down at her outfit—black jeans, a simple red V-neck shirt and matching black jean jacket. Robert could see indecision flash in her eyes and quickly added, “You look great, and it’s just lunch. No big deal. Momma Penny has wanted to meet the Blake sisters for a while now.”
    Farrah released her lip and shrugged. “Sure, why not. Like you said, it’s just