She stared at him as if his words didn’t register. Then, ever so slightly, her head tilted a little.
“It’s not that I don’t like dogs,” he said, giving her his most winning smile. “It’s that I’m constantly at work or traveling. He’d be lonely stuck at home by himself all the time. It’s not fair to him.”
Her lips twitched. Like she thought he was . . . funny?
For some reason, that made Travis bristle. “Is there a problem with what I’m saying?”
She didn’t back down from his cold tone. Those blue eyes sparkled again, and she gestured to the back door. “I think you should meet Gregory.”
“I don’t want the dog, Risa,” he began, but fell silent when she took his hand in hers and began to drag him across the living room to the French doors at the far end of the room. That small, warm contact of her hand touching his seemed incredibly intimate and casual.
How long had it been since someone had held his hand?
She opened the door with her other hand and stepped onto the back porch of the house, then whistled. “Gregory! Gregory Peccary!”
There was a loud, sharp squeal, and he heard the sound of hooves clicking across the boards of the back porch. To his shock, a pig came darting around the side of the house, racing toward her.
A f**king pink and black pig.
She dropped to her knees and held her arms out for the pig, and it dove into her embrace, snuffling and rubbing against her. And her brilliant smile was back, wide and reaching her eyes. She looked up at him, laughter in her face.
“Gregory’s not a dog. He’s a micro pig.” Her lips twitched again. “And he’s yours.”
Travis stared down at the squirming pig in her arms. It was the size of a small dog. Bulldog, even. That was where the resemblance ended, though. This thing had hooves and a snout. The pig’s little tail wagged at a rapid pace, and he grunted as he burrowed in Risa’s arms. She scratched his back, rubbing him.
Travis just stared. This was why the local shelter wouldn’t take the damn thing.
Well, goddamn. What the hell was a CEO supposed to do with a pig?
To say that Travis Jesson wasn’t pleased would have been an understatement. Risa knew the moment he laid eyes on the pig that he’d never known that his grandmother’s beloved pet was porcine rather than canine. But that couldn’t be helped—Risa loved the pig but she couldn’t keep him. And Pearl had wanted Travis to have Gregory.
“That boy works too much,” Pearl had said time and time again. “He needs something other than work to occupy him.”
Of course, Pearl always assumed that everyone would just do what she’d wanted. She probably hadn’t anticipated the enormous scowl on Travis’s handsome, unsmiling face.
It was a face that Risa had dreamed about ever since she’d met Pearl Jesson four years ago. Travis Jesson had interviewed her before Pearl had, and she’d been too intimidated by his brusque manner to really pay much attention to him. Pearl, however, had been one of the nicest, friendliest people she’d ever met. She needed an assistant, she’d explained, because her grandson worried about her, especially after she’d broken her hip. They’d instantly clicked over a comment about daytime television, and Risa had the job.
She hadn’t been Pearl’s assistant for more than a week before Travis had swung by again to see how his grandmother was settling in with her new assistant.
Risa had been dazzled by the handsome man this time. Now that she wasn’t being interviewed by him, she could relax and study him from across the room. And Travis Jesson was gorgeous. He was cool, and self-assured, with a strong jaw that never seemed to smile and a serious, almost stern mien. She’d half fallen in love with him that day, watching him as he fussed over his grandmother, making sure that she had the best of everything available to her. Insisting that she rest and get well.
He was kind and thoughtful and devoted to Pearl.
Of course, he hadn’t even known that Risa existed. She wasn’t surprised. Back then she had been a size eighteen, tall and a little too curvy. She was freckled and wore glasses, and kept her long black hair loose around her face. And since she’d been tending to his grandmother, she’d worn her usual wardrobe of jeans and a T-shirt. Travis Jesson, a divinely handsome man, hadn’t even glanced at her except to inquire about his grandmother’s health.
To him, she was a vague, uninteresting piece of equipment at his grandmother’s house. Back then he’d no more strike up a personal conversation with her than he would the toaster. She’d realized that after blushing and stammering over her words the first time she met him, only to be crushed when he’d paid her not the slightest bit of attention.
And on his next visit, he’d brought a girlfriend.
After that, she learned, his business had blown up. His Web innovation company had developed a new piece of coding essential in online networking, and it had been bought for a ridiculous amount of money. Travis Jesson was no longer just a CEO—he was a billionaire.
He’d turned right around and started developing new technologies. Something about tablets or SmartPads or something. She didn’t know much about it—just that he’d started another company and his visits to Pearl had become less frequent.
Pearl had noticed his absence, though she’d never chided him for not having the time to visit. He was successful and driven, and she understood it even if she worried about him. It wasn’t his fault, she’d explain, that she was an old lonely woman. He was a busy man and had better things to do than to look in on his grandmother.
Still, Pearl had been depressed, Risa had realized. She didn’t have anything to look forward to. Travis’s parents were terrible at checking in. They called every few months and regaled Pearl about all the exciting things they were doing as they sailed around Europe in the sailboat Travis had bought them. Risa had seen Pearl sinking into a depression and had been unsure what to do.
Inspiration had struck at last year’s Bluebonnet Fall Festival. They’d seen the pet micro pigs for sale there, and Pearl had taken one look and fallen in love. Risa had, too. The pigs were clean, smart, and adorably funny; and the cutest piglet came home with them that day.
And if he wasn’t quite as good as visits from her beloved grandson, well, Pearl never complained.
Risa missed Pearl. The woman had been employer, friend, and grandmotherly figure all in one. She’d taken the job with Pearl out of necessity, but it had turned into a labor of love as they’d developed a close friendship.
But that chapter of her life was closed, Risa supposed. Time to pack up and move ahead with her life, which meant returning to the city and looking for a job in her field of expertise—teaching.
And that meant no Gregory, since her Dallas friend had cringed at the idea of a pig in her downtown apartment.
Watching Travis Jesson stare down at the pig with his lip curled in disgust, though, it was hard to imagine that they’d get along like Pearl had anticipated.
“He’s a very good pig,” Risa said lamely, hitching her towel closer to her body. How embarrassing that he’d seen her in her swimsuit and without a stitch of makeup. God. She was worse than invisible right now. He probably thought she was hideous. “We’re very careful with his diet so he doesn’t get fat, and he doesn’t bite. He’s litter trained, too.”
“What the f**k am I supposed to do with a pig?” His voice was cold and clipped as he pulled a phone out of his pocket.
She studied his suit uncomfortably. Armani, probably. Or Versace. Or something equally pricey. He didn’t look like a man that was here to go through his grandmother’s things. He looked like a man late for a meeting. An uncomfortable sensation curled in her stomach as he punched in a number on his phone with his thumb and then raised it to his ear. “Amy? Have I had any calls? Uh-huh? Good. Okay. Tell them I’ll call back shortly. I need you to do something. I want you to call every animal shelter in Houston and find one that takes pigs.”
Risa sucked in a breath. He wasn’t going to do that to such a sweet pig, was he? Even now, Gregory rubbed and leaned against her bare arm, wanting to be scratched. He was such a good, well behaved pet, and so smart. Which Travis would know, if only he’d give him a chance.
Pearl would have been heartbroken at the thought of her beloved pig being turned over to a shelter by her adored grandson.
She had to do something.
“That’s right, I said pig,” he snapped into the phone, ignoring Risa as she stood. “P-I-G. Ask how much in donations they’ll need to take one off of my—”
Risa snatched the phone from his hand and began to walk away with it.
“Hey,” he called after her, furious. “What the f**k are you doing?”
She walked a bit faster, her steps almost a run as she bolted for the pool. Gregory danced in happy circles at her feet, snorting and squealing with excitement. He thought they were playing a game.
To her surprise, Travis Jesson caught her by the waist and her towel fell to the ground. Gregory immediately grabbed it and dashed off with it, grunting happily. A big hand wrestled the phone out of her hand, though she did her best to hold on to it. She was standing really close to the pool, too, and when he wrenched it out of her hand, she had to hold on to him to keep her balance.
For some reason, though, he wasn’t letting her go. Instead, he stared down at her, at her heaving br**sts in the black bikini, and she felt exposed and vulnerable hugged up against his gray suit.
“Why did you do that?” he snarled at her.
“Your grandmother would be devastated if you sent her pig to a shelter. She loved that pig. She got it because she was lonely. You would know that if you’d come to see her in the last year or two.”
He seemed to flinch at her accusatory words. Dark eyes stared down at her, a mixture of fury and something else burning in them.
She was getting through to him, though. “Pearl wanted you to have that pig. She wanted it so much that she had them add it to her will specifically. Not me. You. Would you disappoint her like this? Can’t you give him a chance?”
Travis leaned in and Risa’s heart fluttered. Her hands were still curled on his shoulders, her heaving br**sts pressed against his chest. It was almost as if . . . he was going to kiss her. Forgettable Risa Moore? Kissed by the most eligible billionaire in Texas?
“Mr. Jesson?” A tinny, thin voice emerged from the phone at the same time Gregory gave a playful squeal from the side of the yard.
The spell broken, Travis released her and put the phone back to his ear, his gaze moving off of Risa and staring blankly into the distance. “Just call my driver and tell him that I’m staying overnight. He can come and get me in the morning.”
Risa stepped away to catch the towel that Gregory was dragging all over the yard with playful excitement. Her mind was in turmoil.
Travis hadn’t canceled his plans to drop the pig off at the shelter. But he was staying here. She gathered up the towel and knelt to scratch Gregory behind the ears, glancing back at Travis.
She found his gaze on her, even as he spoke into his phone and discussed business with his assistant.