Читать книгу Taming The Beast - Amy Fetzer J. - Страница 10

He was a fool.

As stupid as they came.

His wife leaving him hadn’t taught him a damn thing, obviously, or he wouldn’t have touched Laura. Sitting at his desk, the dawn breaking behind him, Richard punched the keys, made a half-dozen mistakes, then shoved the keyboard away. Leaning back into the leather chair, he closed his eyes and could almost feel the imprint of her body against his again, the soft yielding femininity he ached to explore.

What man wouldn’t, he thought. Her body was full and shapely, and she had a walk designed to make him insane. And not only was touching her definitely unwise, thinking about it was going to send him over the edge. He shook his head. This was going to be tougher than he’d thought, and he knew the memory of touching her was as haunting as the real thing.

She was the nanny, he reminded himself. The hired help.

He scoffed and left his chair, walking to the window. Help, my eye. She was every man’s dream. And she would be here for a long time, tempting him.

Behind him, his e-mail pinged, his fax machine whined, but Richard ignored it all, gazing down at the endless stretch of beach below. Dainty footprints marked the sand close to the road, and he knew they were Laura’s. Would she take Kelly on walks, looking for seashells? Would Kelly even like it here? Would she like her room, the toys? Or would she be overwhelmed and scared? The questions pounded his brain, and he admitted he didn’t know a thing about raising a four-year-old girl. But Kelly was all he had left in this world, and he would do his best, offer all he could.

Except yourself, a silent voice prodded. Guilt swamped him.

What if none of it was enough, and he traumatized his daughter? She was so innocent and impressionable. At the moment, he didn’t doubt that Laura would do just fine. The woman was charming, even with that sharp tongue, and he suspected that Kelly would finally have some fun, considering she had likely been passed from friend to friend since the accident. Both he and Andrea had no family. Hell, he’d learned of his wife’s death from a uniformed police officer and five days later had learned of his daughter from an attorney, the executor of Andrea’s last will. With his permission, Katherine Davenport had rescued Kelly from Child Welfare Services, and they’d made arrangements for a nanny and for Kelly to come here. It was all so cold, indifferent, Andrea hiding his child from him till tragedy struck. But he’d had a lot of time to think about the woman he’d met at a charity ball and married seven years ago. Andrea had been a beauty, like a china doll, fragile, yet during their marriage she’d grown selfish and grasping—loving his lifestyle, he felt now, more than him. She liked the maids and cooks, and the more he gave, the more she wanted. Until he wanted children and to stop traveling. She’d balked and argued till he’d given in. She must have gotten pregnant that wild night on the beach before the accident, he thought. Regardless, when the accident took the good looks he’d won her with, she’d left. He couldn’t fault her for leaving. She had been weak, maybe a little immature, but nor was he the same man. Inside or out. Idly he wondered what Andrea had told Kelly about him, then dismissed it. It didn’t matter. Releasing a sigh, Richard turned back to the computers, working until a soft voice drawled over the intercom.

“All work and no food makes Mr. Blackthorne a grouch.”

Richard shook his head, half smiling. He punched the intercom on his desk. “Did you cook?” His stomach grumbled at the prospect.

“Yup, and Dewey can’t even begin to eat it all.” There was a pause, and then she said thoughtfully, “Never have been able to scale down my cooking to less than six. Good thing I like leftovers, huh?”

Richard wondered if this woman was ever in a bad mood, and he was thankful she didn’t mention last night. He didn’t want her thinking he was some rutting stag stalking her. Nor did he want her pity. He’d had enough of that from his ex-wife. That and her cringing when he so much as reached for her. He shook his head over what an idiot he’d been last night, but a part of him wanted to know if she’d felt as much heat as he had. Not even Andrea could generate a fire in him like that, and he had loved her.

“I am hungry.”

Laura tried not to like the sound of his voice so much, nor remember how it seduced her senses in the darkness last night. Ten times till Tuesday, she’d asked herself how she could be so attracted to a man she hadn’t seen, yet she knew that looks, money or charm had little to do with anything the body had to say. And Richard Blackthorne’s body said a lot. Laura wished hers would just forget how to listen.

“I’ll bring it up,” she finally said.

He hated that he was marooned up here. “Thank you,” he replied.

A moment of silence, and then she said, “I got your e-mail, by the way. The rules.”

“And I know you have a comment to make,” he said to the speaker on his desk, and could almost see her lips pull into a tight line.

“Are any of these negotiable?”

Ever the diplomat, he thought. “Such as?”

“This one about not going to the third floor. How is the maid supposed to clean?”

“She knows the rules. She lets me know before she comes up and I simply move to another part of the house,” he explained.

“I see.” Her sigh drifted through the speaker. “This intercom thing is so impersonal.”

“It’s the way it must be, Laura.”

Below in the kitchen, Laura banged her forehead lightly against the wall. Stubborn man. “Nothing is written in stone, then?”

“No.” A pause and then he asked, “What do you want, Laura?”

His irritation was like a flag going up. Want? She wanted normalcy. Normal before Kelly arrived. But she knew Richard would fight her every step of the way. “Oh, nothing,” she said sweetly. “I will find a way around your rules, you know. Especially this one about not walking through the house at night. I like the night. I like to drink hot chocolate in the dark, look at the stars.”

“Then you should feel right at home here.”

“Yes, actually, I do.”

Richard needed her to feel welcome, and with Kelly arriving in the morning, he was desperate for her to remain, especially since Katherine Davenport had called this morning and said she couldn’t find a qualified replacement soon enough. Richard decided that she was mad at him and wasn’t looking hard, anyway.

A few minutes later a knock rattled the door and Richard stepped near, peering through the peephole. She certainly was persistent.

“Leave it there.”

She stuck her tongue out at the door.

“Charming, Miss Cambridge,” he said dryly.

Laura smiled weakly and set the tray aside. “Mr. Blackthorne, about last night…”

Richard groaned to himself and tapped the intercom beside the door. “It was wrong of me to touch you.”

“Why?”

He blinked. “You’re my daughter’s nanny.”

“And convenient, huh?”

“What?”

She winced at the bite in his tone. “Well, I’m here and a woman, and—”

“Terribly easy on the eyes.”

Her lips twisted into a bitter line. She almost wished she was scarred like Blackthorne. At least she’d know men wouldn’t want her for just her looks. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Wondering how long I’ve been without a woman?”

The husky drawl of those words weakened her knees. “Of course not!”

“Liar.”

She folded her arms over her middle and glared at the door. “Name-calling is a childish defense.”

“Sorry.”

“Forget I mentioned it.”

“I will.”

“Fine.” But she didn’t trust that. Especially when he kept the world at arm’s length, then suddenly grabbed her last night as if she were a lifeline on a sinking ship. Yet she could not ignore the electricity she’d felt then, the heat jumping through her. And the need to touch him, to feel the hardness of his tall body. He made her feel small and defenseless and in those few seconds, cherished.

It was not something she could easily forget.

“If you want seconds, just holler,” she said, and her steps thumped down the staircase.

Richard took the tray inside and gaped at the monstrous amount of food: eggs, pancakes, bacon, sausage, coffee, toast, jam, hash browns and even grits. He was going to have to run an extra mile for this, he thought, and sat down to enjoy it. And not think of the woman who’d prepared it.

Contact between them was minimal for the rest of the day, and Richard had waited impatiently for night to fall, for shadows to envelop him and give him freedom. He felt like a damned vampire; the night was his friend, although it was the daytime and the sun he loved.

Now he stared down at the woman sprawled on his sofa, asleep, an open book on her chest. He tilted his head to read the title. Children and Grief. It hit him again how much Kelly would rely on her when he wished it was him she would turn to for comfort. But he’d only make it worse for her. God, he wanted to hold his baby, know all about her, read to her and simply watch her grow and learn. He cursed Andrea again for not letting him share Kelly’s life. He realized, with tremendous regret, that he was relying on Laura to love his daughter in his place.

Laura tapped her foot as the ferry docked and the fantail gate lowered. People strolled off the boat, and she searched the crowd for the little girl, for the nurse who would escort her here. What she found was the most beautiful child she’d ever seen, dark-haired and cherub-faced, her hand clinging to Katherine Davenport’s manicured fingers.

She met her old sorority sister’s gaze and smiled. “I’m glad you brought her.”

Katherine glanced down at the little girl and smiled. “I thought someone familiar would be better than a stranger.”

Laura could see the question in Katherine’s eyes, as to how it was going between her and Richard Blackthorne, and not wanting to give even a hint of last night, she was grateful when a man came up with Kelly’s bags. Laura led him to the SUV Richard let her use, and he hefted the cases into the back seat. She tipped him and returned to the pair.

Laura knelt and smiled at Kelly. The little girl buried her face in Katherine’s skirts.

“Hi, I’m Laura,” she said anyway.

“Hullo,” came the muffled reply.

Katherine inched away, forcing Kelly to look at her.

Laura sat on the ground Indian-style as if they had all the time in the world. “Been a tough week, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Well I’m going to take very good care of you, Kelly.” Still the child looked at her warily. “I promise. I know how to do lots of things. We can play on the beach, ride bikes and maybe even ride a horse.”

That perked her up and Laura prayed she remembered how to ride. “Your daddy has three horses, and I don’t think they get much exercise, so we will have to take care of them.”

“Did you see my daddy?”

The hope in her voice brought a sting to Laura’s eyes. “Yes. He’s very nice.”

“Momma said he was hurt.”

“Your mommy was right, he was. But he’s okay now.” She wasn’t about to scare the child with details. “He just doesn’t like to be stared at.”

Kelly’s brows knitted as if she was trying to understand that if he was okay, why didn’t he like being looked at. Laura wanted to postpone that meeting till Kelly was settled and feeling safe.

“So, are you ready to see your new house?” Kelly nodded, chewing on the corner of her sweater. Laura reached up and pulled it free. “Speak up, I can’t hear your brain’s rattle.”

The child almost smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You’re going to love it, Kelly. It’s a castle, just like in Cinderella.”

“Really?” the girl said.

“Really.”

Laura stood and held out her hand. Kelly looked up at Katherine, sighed, then accepted her hand. Laura’s heart nearly wept with joy.

“Do you want to come up to the house?” she said to Katherine. “Have some coffee and take a later ferry?” People were already walking past them to get on the boat heading back to the mainland.

Katherine shook her head. “I think it’s best if I let you two get acquainted. I’ll call you later, sugah.”