Daddy On The Doorstep. Judy Christenberry

Before he could say anything else, however, she gained control of her temper. She would not act like a child. “I beg your pardon. So much has happened, I’m afraid I’m not myself. Yes, of course, I stayed in touch with Aunt Bess. We’re friends.”

      “You also don’t have to treat me like a stranger you’ve just met. We were married, damn it. Still are, for that matter.” Though he kept his voice even, his blue eyes were chilly.

      She addressed the only thing of importance in his remarks. “I’ve been intending to apply for a divorce, but—but it’s expensive.” That was the truth, but it wasn’t the only reason. Otherwise she would have taken out a loan. “If you’re in a hurry—”

      “No.”

      Risking a brief glance at him through her lashes, she then picked up her spoon and needlessly stirred her tea. Was he angry that she hadn’t started proceedings? What was wrong with him? He could divorce her, if he was in a hurry.

      Her eyes widened at the thought, and she looked at him again. “Have you applied for a divorce?”

      “No.”

      She straightened her back. “What was it you said to me? ‘Couldn’t I talk in more than one word sentences?’ The same to you, Nick.”

      “All right,” he drawled, giving her a level stare. “I have no intention of applying for a divorce. If you decide to do so, that is your business.”

      As if it didn’t affect him in any way, she thought resentfully. But then, that had been the problem with their marriage, too. He seemed totally unaffected by it. Except in the bedroom.

      She immediately shut down those thoughts. “More tea?” she offered, since she didn’t know what else to say.

      “No, I don’t want any more damn tea!”

      “Then perhaps we’d better talk about how we’re going to get out of here. It’s almost three o’clock. Can you get the helicopter to come back for us?”

      “I can try,” he said, and rose from the table.

      Try? The great Nicholas Avery never failed. He was the wonder of the financial world, a touchstone of success that had everyone crowding around him. If he wanted the helicopter to come back, it would come back. Even if he had to buy it.

      “We’re out of luck,” he said seconds later, turning back to the table.

      “What are you talking about? Are they too busy? Will they come later?”

      “I have no idea. The phone is dead.”

      Chapter Two

      “What?” Andrea exclaimed. She jumped to her feet and hurried to the telephone.

      When she lifted the receiver, Nick growled, “Can’t you even believe me about the stupid phone?”

      Her cheeks flushed red, Andrea looked away from Nick as she hung up the receiver. They had never argued while they were married until the night before Andrea had decided to leave him. Then, as now, she’d expressed disbelief at something Nick had said.

      “I just—it was a natural reaction,” she assured him and then hurriedly asked, “do you think they’ll fix it anytime soon?”

      As if nature wanted to answer her question, a loud boom of thunder shook the house.

      Nick gave her a sardonic grin. “Anything else you want to know?”

      She gritted her teeth. “Yes. What are we going to do?”

      “Stay inside where it’s dry. We should be all right. Aunt Bess could feed an army at a moment’s notice. Even if the electricity goes off, we’ve got—”

      “Do you think it will?” Andrea asked with a gasp, nervously looking at the overhead light.

      “Andy, relax. If it does, we have oil lamps and firewood. No problem.”

      His casual dismissal of their predicament irritated her. He’d accused her of overreacting when they’d argued. She hadn’t liked it then and she hated it now.

      “Fine,” she snapped, and turned her back on him, crossing her arms over her chest. No problem? Even with all the electricity she wanted, she’d still be stuck here alone with Nick. If that wasn’t a problem, she didn’t know what was.

      Feeling his stare on her, she whirled back around. “I’m going to find something to read,” she muttered without looking at him. Bess was a prolific reader and kept a lot of books around the house. Andrea needed something to take her mind off the six-foot-three bundle of trouble staring at her.

      “I think I’ll take a nap, if you don’t need me,” Nick offered in return. “I’m still on Africa time.”

      She risked a look and immediately noted the shadows under his eyes. Why hadn’t she seen them before? Probably because she’d been distracted by his body, she admitted to herself. And because she was afraid to look him in the eye for any length of time. Those eyes of his could mesmerize her faster than a rattler could lure an innocent rabbit to come closer.

      “Fine,” she agreed, and entered the living room to search for a book.

      Something was pulling her from sleep. Andrea shifted and banged her elbow into hardness. Funny, she thought fuzzily, what’s the wall doing there? Her bed wasn’t next to the wall.

      Even as that thought came, she noticed the cut-velvet texture under her cheek and her eyes opened. Aunt Bess. She was at Aunt Bess’s house. And Aunt Bess was in the hospital and Nick was here.

      With her.

      She groaned and sat up, dislodging the book she’d been reading. Not that it had held her interest. She’d checked on Nick several times, enjoying the opportunity to watch him sleep, forbidden fruit as it were.

      The urge to join him on the big bed had sent her scurrying back to the sofa in the living room. And her own eventual nap. She was so tired lately.

      The deep shadows in the room caught her attention. Had the electricity gone off, as Nick had predicted? She quickly reached for the lamp and breathed a sigh of relief when it clicked on, sending shafts of light around the room.

      Her watch read ten past seven, which explained the growl from her stomach. She got up and tiptoed to Bess’s bedroom. Pushing the door open only enough to peek in, she discovered Nick was still sleeping. Quietly, she retreated to the kitchen.

      Though she was unsure whether Nick would join her for dinner or not, Andrea had no intention of being a martyr and skipping the meal. As Nick had said, Aunt Bess always had more than enough food on hand. After a quick survey, Andrea opened a can of soup and put it on to heat while she fixed some sandwiches from the fresh turkey she found in the refrigerator.

      When everything was ready, she went back to the bedroom and pushed the door open slightly again. When it abruptly swung all the way back, she smothered a scream and jumped.

      “Easy, there. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Nick said, though his look wasn’t an apology.

      “I thought you were still sleeping.”

      “Were you going to wake me?”

      “I don’t know. I fixed something to eat, but I didn’t know if…if you were hungry.” She backed toward the kitchen, unsure what to do next.

      “I’m starving,” he assured her, his gaze pinned on her face.

      “It’s only soup and sandwiches.”

      “Good enough.”

      He took a step toward her and she turned and fled to the kitchen. Somehow she feared he might mistake her for his meal.

      They ate in silence until Nick had finished.

      “You’ve got a healthy appetite,” he observed.