Название | Marriage On Demand |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Susan Mallery |
Жанр | Короткие любовные романы |
Серия | Mills & Boon M&B |
Издательство | Короткие любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474046152 |
He was doing her a favor by keeping the truth a secret. He ignored the voice inside that whispered he might not just be doing it for her. That maybe he had something to gain. Maybe her blushes and stammerings and long glances fed some empty, almost dead part of his useless heart.
She raised her hands and grabbed her hair, pulled it back into a ponytail, then released the long curls. She was a fairy-tale princess, he thought, then scoffed at his own fancy. Get real, Lucas, he told himself.
“I need your house,” she said, and drew a deep breath as if preparing to deliver a long speech. “Oh, God, I know what you’re thinking. It’s too much to ask. I wouldn’t ask you except I’ve been everywhere else. I have twenty kids sleeping in the school auditorium, but they can’t stay there indefinitely. The state has assured me I’ll have money to build a new facility, but in the meantime, I’m on my own. Travis suggested I see you. He said there’s an empty house on your property that’d be big enough. We wouldn’t be a bother.”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
She took a step closer. Her hands twisted together, the fingers lacing and unlacing. “Oh, Austin, you’re my last hope. I’ve checked around town. The problem is I don’t have any money. I have some, but I need to replace food and clothing and toys. People in town have been great, but it’s not enough. We’d only need the house for about three months.” She grimaced. “Gosh, that sounds so long. I could split the kids up, but I hate to do that. David is just seven. His parents and older sister were killed in a car crash. He’s pretty normal, considering what’s happened to him. He talks and still does his schoolwork. But he can’t seem to make friends. He stands outside all the games the other children play. He watches them. Even when they invite him, he won’t join in. It’s been six weeks since the accident.”
She rubbed her palms together, then held out her hands pleadingly. “He has relatives, but they’re too busy fighting over the estate to care about a seven-year-old boy. The deal they’ve all worked out is whoever gets control of the money is willing to be stuck with the kid.” She shook her head. “Stuck. He’s sweet and funny and very bright. If I can find a family willing to adopt him, I’ll petition the court for custody. In the meantime, we’re the only family he has.”
He tried not to think about the lost boy, but deep in his chest he felt a familiar ache. “Rebecca, I don’t see—”
“Then I have to make you see.” Her voice became husky. “Oh, Austin, there are so many children. There are the twins. They’ve been abandoned by their alcoholic grandmother. And Melanie, she’s just f-five.” Her voice cracked. “Her uncle… His older brothers had done bad things to him, so he took it out on Melanie. The doctor’s aren’t sure if she’ll ever be able to have children.”
He cursed under his breath and stood up. In three strides he was standing directly in front of her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and shook her gently.
“Hush, Rebecca. It’s okay. What I started to say is that I don’t think it’s going to be a problem. You’re welcome to the house. For as long as you need it.”
She blinked several times and he realized she was fighting tears. Through the thick layer of the robe, he could feel her slender shoulders tremble. There were dark circles under her eyes and lines of weariness around her mouth.
“Really?” she asked.
“Really. Have you been handling all of this alone?”
She nodded. Her head dipped toward her chest. “I haven’t hired a new assistant since Elizabeth went on maternity leave.” She sniffed, then raised her head. Her smile was a little shaky, but it hit him like a right hook to the jaw. “I can’t tell you what this means to us.”
He released her and stepped back. Great. He’d just gone up three points in her estimation. He didn’t need to fuel her case of hero worship.
“It’s nothing,” he said, flicking his hand dismissively. “The house is empty. You’ll have to rent some beds and stuff. I’ll pick up the tab for that.”
When her big eyes got bigger, he grimaced. “I’m not doing this for you, Rebecca,” he said bluntly. “I’m doing it for the kids and because the people who ran the home were good to me when I stayed there. This isn’t anything but a business deal. I’m paying an old debt. Don’t make it more than it is.”
Judging by the light in her eyes, he hadn’t made his point well enough.
“This is wonderful!” she said. She tugged on the belt around her waist. “I was so afraid of what would happen if you’d said no.” She laughed. “I can’t tell you how uncomfortable it is sleeping in a cot in the elementary-school auditorium.”
“Why have you been staying there?”
“I lost my night supervisor, and I haven’t been able to hire someone to replace her. About a month ago, I moved into the home. It was easier.”
“You lost everything in the fire, too.” It wasn’t a question.
“Not everything, exactly. I had some stuff in storage.”
He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her until all the bad things went away. He wanted to hit the stairs running and never look back. “Saint Rebecca,” he muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Let me guess. You’ve been doing this all by yourself. Coordinating where the kids are going to stay temporarily, finding a new place, collecting clothes.”
“You sound as if I’ve done something wrong. The children are my responsibility.”
He felt old and tired, and far too cynical to spend time with someone like her. In his ugly little world, very few people went out of their way to do more than they had to. He was as guilty as the rest of them. It was easier to stay detached that way. Easier to forget why he couldn’t get involved.
“Did I say something to offend you?” she asked.
He looked at her, at the long dark hair, at her big eyes and the trembling set of her mouth. From the top of her head down to her unpainted toenails, she was alien to him.
He leaned toward her and slipped his hand over her shoulder to the nape of her neck. She stiffened but didn’t move. Despite her recent shower, he could smell the sweet scent of her body. It reminded him of vanilla and sunshine, nothing like the musky Oriental fragrances his lovers normally favored.
Her skin was as smooth and warm as he’d imagined. His thumb traced a pattern on her spine, then he curled his fingers into her hair. Her expression held no fear, only faint anticipation and a trusting calm that made him want to bellow with impatience.
“Who the hell are you, Rebecca Chambers?” he asked. “What are you doing in my life?”
“I don’t know how to answer that,” she whispered.
His other hand reached for the collar of the robe. It would be so easy to grab the thick material and jerk it open, exposing her to his gaze. Would she fight him or submit willingly?
He touched the terry cloth, moving back and forth, but didn’t go near her skin.
“Have you ever gotten a ticket?” he asked.
She nodded. “I forgot to put enough change in the meter.”
A parking ticket. He almost groaned. “Ever been really stone-face drunk?”
“No.”
“Had sex with a stranger?”
She blushed and shook her head.