Parents Of Convenience. Jennie Adams

Читать онлайн.
Название Parents Of Convenience
Автор произведения Jennie Adams
Жанр Контркультура
Серия Mills & Boon Cherish
Издательство Контркультура
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474026994



Скачать книгу

some kind of connection. ‘Does this mean you’re secure in terms of custody?’ Phoebe wanted to know.

      ‘Yes. Maryellen had no other family and I was named as sole guardian and also noted on their birth certificates as their father. There’s no doubt that they’re my responsibility.’

      What a sad way to put it. What an even sadder thing it was that if Maryellen hadn’t died Max might very likely never have known he had sons. ‘I’m sorry, Max.’

      ‘It doesn’t matter.’ His expression became fierce for a moment before he smoothed it back into bland indifference. ‘All that counts now is that I do my best for them.’

      How did he reconcile that with wanting to dump them off on to a nanny? ‘Just one other thing. I’m sorry to ask, but how did Maryellen die?’

      ‘An accident at an archaeological site. The boys weren’t with her at the time.’

      Phoebe didn’t want to think about it any more. Her emotions had jumped back and forth quite enough for one day. ‘I’ll say goodnight, Max. It’s getting late and I’m sure the boys will be up with the kookaburras in the morning.’

      ‘Thank you, Phoebe.’ Max caught her arm as she moved to pass him, staying her. ‘For agreeing to remain here for now.’

      A lot went unsaid in those few words. Their antagonism and attraction. The fact that it wouldn’t be easy. That they were both on uncharted ground in this.

      ‘You’re welcome.’ She looked up at him, thinking that would be the end of it. But something in his gaze changed and he bent his head, probably to drop a kiss on her cheek.

      Okay. It would be a novel experience, Max being nice, but she would do her best not to keel over with shock. Phoebe braced to receive the salute, then felt her breath hitch as his lips met not her cheek, but her mouth. The feelings that bombarded her then, stunned her to her toes.

      All she could think, was, Oh, my goodness, oh, my goodness, oh-my-goodness! She was going into shock, or cardiac arrest or something. Her breath stuttered, a shiver started at the base of her neck and quickly suffused her.

      Max’s hands gripped her shoulders, holding her still while his mouth moulded to hers in slow, steady exploration. No wonder women got involved with him, even though he was a love ’em and leave ’em type. The man’s kisses were dynamite.

      Phoebe melted into him, into the kiss. Like a big old blob of butter in a pan. Why, oh why, had he done it? Why did he continue it, even now as her bones melted?

      It was Max, not Mountain Gem or Katherine or any of the rest of it, that gave her that feeling of coming home. The thought came from nowhere. She denied it instantly. It couldn’t be that. This was a potent kiss, from an experienced man, that was all.

      And oh, boy, it really was all that. She lost her concentration in the heat of it. Sensations bombarded her from all sides. The touch of those warm, firm lips, pressed so intimately against her own. The scrape of his jaw against her softer skin.

      His fingers moved to her chin, angling it as he kissed her, and she wanted to be angled and kissed more and still more.

      For a moment insanity took her, and she kissed him back with all her worth. Their bodies pressed together and his arms crushed her close. Heat roared through her, burning her up until she was almost convinced she could smell scorched butter. But sense and reason came back eventually, and with them an all-important question. Two, actually.

      What was she doing?

      And with Max, of all people?

      ‘No.’ She wrenched away on a gasp, horrified by her own complicity and thoroughly uneasy with Max’s behaviour. Was he lost in thoughts of Maryellen? Had that made him kiss Phoebe? A sort of misplaced guilt or resentment or something?

      All Phoebe knew was that she had almost become crazy for a moment there. Had almost believed that there was something about Max that she had to have to survive. Madness. Sheer idiotic lunacy. It was just as well she had come back to her senses before things went any further.

      Max appeared as stunned as her, his face etched in taut lines as he stared at her, breathing hard. ‘That was—’ He broke off, raked both hands through his hair as though all the demons of hell had come to roost on him at once.

      Then he forcibly rearranged his facial muscles. Rolled his shoulders. Sucked in a deep breath and blew it out again. ‘So you’ll be helping out as the nanny until I can get a replacement. I’ll payroll you at the same rate I offered the others.’

      He named a figure.

      Phoebe nodded without taking it in. Back to business was good, if only she could get even a single part of her to change to the appropriate channel, instead of getting stuck on FM One-Oh-Kiss!

      ‘Good.’ Max inclined his head and took a step backwards, then another. ‘Great. That’s settled then. That’s all…settled.’

      ‘Settled,’ Phoebe parroted and, for good measure, nodded just as Max had done. She was still in shock, her senses reeling, some unhelpful part of her suggesting that Max’s kiss was something she might like to repeat. Right now, even. ‘It’s business, right?’

      ‘Yes.’ Max pushed his hands into his pockets and studied the painting on the wall to her left. ‘That’s right.’ His gaze tracked over her and, once she was thoroughly singed, moved away again. ‘It’s business.’

      Good. They could forget this had ever happened. That was best. Because clearly Phoebe couldn’t afford to be attracted to Max. Not when it resulted in this kind of impact on her.

      She would keep right out of his path in future, metaphorically speaking. Keep it businesslike. Avoid all thoughts of intimacy. And, while she was at it, she would avoid all comparisons between Max, his sons and herself and any kind of happy families.

      Max wanted to payroll a nanny. For now, Phoebe was that person. She would think of the job as clocking in, clocking out. A business arrangement, no feelings involved. She could do that. Right? ‘That’s all organised, then.’ She tried for some sort of distant nonchalance, failed utterly and decided to cut and run instead. ‘Uh, I’ll see you around,’ she said, and fled.

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

/9j/4R3fRXhpZgAATU0AKgAAAAgADAEAAAMAAAABAzkAAAEBAAMAAAABBLAAAAECAAMAAAADAAAA ngEGAAMAAAABAAIAAAESAAMAAAABAAEAAAEVAAMAAAABAAMAAAEaAAUAAAABAAAApAEbAAUAAAAB AAAArAEoAAMAAAABAAIAAAExAAIAAAAeAAAAtAEyAAIAAAAUAAAA0odpAAQAAAABAAAA6AAAASAA CAAIAAgALcbAAAAnEAAtxsAAACcQQWRvYmUgUGhvdG9zaG9wIENTNiAoV2luZG93cykAMjAxNDox MToxNCAxNDo0NzoxOAAAAAAEkAAABwAAAAQwMjIxoAEAAwAAAAH//wAAoAIABAAAAAEAAAZAoAMA BAAAAAEAAAkXAAAAAAAAAAYBAwADAAAAAQAGAAABGgAFAAAAAQAAAW4BGwAFAAAAAQAAAXYBKAAD AAAAAQACAAACAQAEAAAAAQAAAX4CAgAEAAAAAQAAHFkAAAAAAAAASAAAAAEAAABIAAAAAf/Y/+0A DEFkb2JlX0NNAAL/7gAOQWRvYmUAZIAAAAAB/9sAhAAMCAgICQgMCQkMEQsKCxEVDwwMDxUYExMV ExMYEQwMDAwMDBEMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMAQ0LCw0ODRAODhAUDg4OFBQO Dg4OFBEMDAwMDBERDAwMDAwMEQwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAz/wAARCACgAG4D ASIAAhEBAxEB/90ABAAH/8QBPwAAAQUBAQEBAQEAAAAAAAAAAwABA