A Man To Marry. Carole Mortimer

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Название A Man To Marry
Автор произведения Carole Mortimer
Жанр Современная зарубежная литература
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laughed once more at his boyishly pleased expression. ‘I’m sure of it,’ she confirmed teasingly, feeling as if she were the elder, although at thirty-five Toby was ten years her senior. To her he was like a mischievous younger brother—and just as harmless. ‘Now if—’

      ‘Cat? Cat, for goodness’ sake, where are you?’ Kate could be heard calling as she left the house to come into the high-walled garden to look for them.

      Toby had hunkered down in the garden seat at the first sound of Kate’s voice, grimacing across at Cat. ‘The dragon lady cometh,’ he muttered conspiratorially. ‘Let’s keep quiet, and maybe she’ll go away,’ he added hopefully.

      His hope would be in vain; they both knew that. When Kate had that determined note in her voice, nothing stopped her!

      ‘That was unkind.’ Cat smacked Toby playfully on the arm as she moved her weight up onto her elbows, the movement setting the seat swinging as she looked over the top of the floral back cushions.

      Kate stood on the paved patio, a frown marring her brow as she looked for Cat and Toby, but it was a facial expression that did nothing to detract from the beautiful perfection of her face, her hair shining golden in the warm summer sunlight, her body tall and shapely in the businesslike skirt and blouse she had changed into since lunch.

      ‘Over here, Kate,’ Cat called to her friend, giving her a friendly wave.

      ‘What on earth did you do that for?’ Toby mumbled accusingly at her side.

      Cat gave him an affectionate grin. ‘We’ll take, “Don’t you want children of your own rather than looking after other people’s all day?” as read, Toby,’ she responded drily. ‘And my usual refusal to let you father my baby!’

      He scowled at her levity. ‘Why is it that neither of you take me seriously?’ he grumbled. ‘The village girls seem to think I’m bohemian and interesting, whereas you and Kate treat me like a naughty little boy who has to be kept in my place!’

      There was no doubting Toby’s rakish good looks, or the fact that, despite his untidy appearance, he was a very wealthy man, his last three exhibitions in a prestigious London gallery, complete sell-outs. But it was also a sad fact of life, despite his arrival several times a week for a meal, and the occasional evenings he took the two younger women out for the evening, that neither of them took him seriously.

      Cat swung her legs to the floor, sitting up on the seat as she heard Kate walking over to where they sat beneath the apple tree. ‘Being only children ourselves, it’s quite nice to have a naughty “younger” brother,’ she assured Toby lightly before turning to smile at Kate as she stood in front of them. ‘Everything okay?’ she prompted lightly.

      ‘Fine,’ Kate nodded. ‘You two look comfortable,’ she sighed as she dropped down onto the middle cushion of the padded seat. ‘It’s a shame to disturb you, Cat.’ She grimaced. ‘But we have a father arriving in half an hour,’ she reminded her.

      Cat had completely forgotten! ‘Time to go and change into my other life.’ She stood up, stretching like the feline after which she was called, her curling hair a deep, vibrant red, green eyes twinkling brightly in an impishly attractive face, skin tanned a deep honey-brown from the amount of time she had spent in the warm summer sunshine.

      ‘You have one of the parents coming here on a Sunday?’ Toby sounded disgusted at the idea. ‘Don’t they realise you need some time to yourselves?’

      ‘A parent is a parent all the time, Toby,’ Kate rebuked him.

      As joint proprietors of the only playschool in the area, Kate and Cat were permanently on call for the parents of the children put in their care through the week.

      ‘Besides,’ Kate went on, ‘this is a prospective new parent, so we have to make a good impression if we want to stay in business. And being unavailable simply because it’s a Sunday isn’t going to do that!’

      ‘It’s the reason we live in this “big old house”, Toby,’ Cat told him wryly. ‘We needed somewhere big enough for us all to live as well as provide space for the facilities we wanted to open the playschool.’

      The years since they’d opened had been successful, much more so than they could ever have hoped for. Although, as Kate had pointed out, they were answerable to the parents of the pre-school children they cared for, and a new parent was someone they wouldn’t turn away, despite the inconvenience of a Sunday appointment. Besides, it was because the parents were working in the week that they needed their children to come to a playschool in the first place!

      Anyway, Caleb Reynolds had been most insistent that a Sunday afternoon appointment was suitable for him…!

      ‘Pour Kate some lemonade while I go and change,’ she told Toby briskly. ‘I’ll be with you in ten minutes, Kate,’ she promised, hurrying towards the house as Toby moved obediently to pour the lemonade.

      Cat shook her head ruefully. Good-looking, successful, charming, more than available—and yet there was something missing from Toby’s make-up as far as she was concerned. Excitement. That was it! Toby wasn’t in the least exciting, had no edge of danger, emitted no challenge to an interested female.

      Whereas the man who arrived promptly at three o’clock for his appointment definitely exuded all of those things!

      In fact, Cat decided as she looked across the room at him, Kate having opened the door to him and brought him through to their private sitting-room, where they had decided to carry out the interview, he probably exuded too much of them!

      Over six feet tall, with dark hair cut short and sprinkled with grey at the temples, cool grey eyes in a sharply hewn face, those cold grey eyes looking down the length of his arrogant nose as he returned her gaze unblinkingly.

      Although probably only three or four years Toby’s senior, this man had an air of sophistication, of experience, that Toby, for all his bohemian affectations, could never hope to acquire!

      Caleb Reynolds’ shoulders were wide and powerful, his waist tapered in the charcoal-grey suit he wore, his white shirt pristine, his unpatterned blue tie looking as if it was made of silk. Yes, he looked strong and deeply masculine, and yet it was power of another kind that he radiated as he looked at them both so confidently.

      Cat was so stunned by Caleb Reynolds’ effect on her that for a few moments she completely overlooked the little boy peeping out at her from behind his legs. Parents were often undecided about bringing their children along with them for this initial meeting, preferring to view the playschool themselves before introducing it to their kids. Caleb Reynolds had obviously felt no such qualms where his son was concerned. But then, he wasn’t a three-and-a-half-year-old being confronted by the unknown! As Cat looked at the little boy she could see, by the way he hung back, just how apprehensive he was, brown eyes huge in the paleness of his face.

      Cat’s heart immediately went out to him. She loved children, and with his shy, obviously nervous manner Caleb Reynolds’ son looked more in need of that love than the majority of young children who came here. Most of the girls and boys they cared for on a day-to-day basis were usually more in need of recreation and stimulation while their parents were at work than they were of actual love. But Caleb Reynolds, with his expensive tailored suit and silk tie, and those handmade black shoes, didn’t look anything like those parents!

      ‘My associate, Caitlin Rourke,’ Kate introduced, making Cat aware that her assessment of Caleb Reynolds and his small son could only have lasted a few moments at the most. ‘Cat, this is Mr Reynolds, and this is…?’ She gave the little boy an encouraging smile.

      ‘Adam,’ his father put in abruptly, reaching down to gently prise the little boy’s fingers from the leg of his trousers before gently pulling him round to stand in front of him, his hands resting lightly but firmly on the child’s narrow shoulders. ‘Adam Reynolds. My son,’ the man added, slightly defensively, Cat thought, almost as if he expected someone to challenge him on this last statement.

      Cat felt sure not too many people challenged