Call Me Irresistible (Wynette, Texas #5)(68)

When the road circled back on itself, she chose another lane but found only a putting green and maintenance buildings. She tried again and came upon a small stone and brick ranch with Skeet Cooper's pickup visible inside the open garage door. Nothing like keeping your caddy close by.

The last lane wound uphill where it opened onto a rocky bluff. And there it stood, a modern structure of perfectly balanced cream stucco rectangles topped by a butterfly roof. Sweeping sheets of glass faced south, along with sharp overhangs to shade the interior. Even without the small, sleek wind turbines mounted on the roof, she would have known this was his house. Its beauty, inventiveness, and functionality spoke volumes about its owner.

The front door opened before she could ring the bell, and he stood before her barefoot in a black T-shirt and gray athletic shorts. "Did you enjoy your tour?"

Either someone had tipped him off or security cameras monitored the property. Knowing his love of gadgetry, she suspected the latter. "The mighty ruler of the Kingdom of Beaudine is indeed all-knowing."

"I do my best." He moved back to let her in.

The house was open and airy, decorated in pale shades of gray and white-a cool, calming retreat from the punishing summer heat and the equally punishing demands of being Ted Beaudine. The furniture sat low, each piece carefully chosen for both its comfort and quiet, unimposing beauty. The most startling feature was a glass-enclosed rectangular room suspended above the soaring living area. 

The house was almost monastically spare. No sculptures stood in the corners; no paintings graced its walls. The art lay outside in the views of river bluffs, granite hills, and distant, shadowed valleys.

She'd grown up in grand houses-her family's rambling Connecticut farmhouse, their Bel Air home, the weekend house on Morro Bay-but this was something quite special. "Nice digs," she said.

As he crossed the bamboo floor, a foyer light that had come on when he'd admitted her automatically shut off. "If you've shown up for sex, I'm bored with you," he said.

"That would explain the large bed on the delivery truck, along with those comfy, man-size chairs."

"And the couch. Don't forget the couch. Not to hurt your feelings, but your place isn't too comfortable. And from the phone call I just got, I hear you want to keep it like that. Why did you send that truck away?"

"Did you really think I was going to take presents from you?"

"The furniture was for me, not you. I'll be damned if I spend another night on that futon."

"Good thing you're bored with me."

"I might change my mind. As a matter of fact-"

"It isn't your job to furnish my place," she said. "I'll do it when I get around to it. Although I have to admit you almost sucked me in with those air conditioners. Unfortunately, I've developed this totally asinine sense of personal pride."

"Your loss."

"You have enough people to take care of, Mr. Mayor. You don't have to take care of me, too."

She'd finally caught him off balance. He looked at her oddly. "That's not what I was doing."

"Oh, yes, you were." She did her best to contain the thread of tenderness unraveling inside her. "I came here to rip your head off, but this house seems to have sucked away most of my righteous indignation. Do you happen to have anything to eat?"

He tilted his head. "Back there."

The stunning stainless-steel kitchen wasn't large, but it was dauntingly efficient. A limousine-long central island began as a workspace, then seamlessly extended into a sleek table large enough for a dinner party, with four wire-back chairs pushed under it on each side. "I don't like dining rooms," he said. "I like to eat in the kitchen."

"I think you're onto something."

Forgetting her hunger, she wandered over to the room's most striking feature, another colossal sheet-glass wall, this one looking down upon the Pedernales Valley where the river ran like a blue-green ribbon over jagged limestone shelves. Beyond the valley, the setting sun outlined the purple hills in a tangerine blaze. "Extraordinary," she said. "You designed this house, didn't you?"

"It's an experiment in net zero energy."

"Meaning?"

"The house produces more energy than it consumes. Right now about forty percent. There are photovoltaic and solar panels in the roof, along with rainwater collection. I have a gray water system, geothermal heating and cooling machines, appliances with kill switches to keep them from drawing power in the off mode. Basically, I'm living off the grid."

Ted had made his fortune helping towns optimize electrical usage, so the house was a natural extension of his work, but it was still remarkable.