Читать книгу Ready for Marriage? - Anne Marie Winston - Страница 12

Five

Derek leaned over Kristin. ‘‘You’re not dreaming.’’ He cast a glance at Mollie, who was already immersed in one of the books Kristin kept in a basket on the floor for her, then looked back at Kristin, his gaze lingering on her lips. They looked soft and warm and he badly wanted to kiss her, to shape and mold and caress until she returned the pressure of his lips.

But not in front of his daughter. ‘‘Have you eaten anything?’’ he asked as he sat back, his hip bumping hers.

She was staring at him as if he’d grown a second head and her eyes were wide and dazed. ‘‘Wha—?’’

‘‘I’m hungry.’’ He cut her off, not ready to deal with a discussion of his feelings yet. ‘‘If you haven’t eaten, we can eat together.’’

‘‘I haven’t,’’ she said absently. ‘‘I came home from work and crashed.’’ Then he could see her brain scramble into high gear. ‘‘I bet you just finished work and haven’t eaten anything, either. Derek, you can’t forget to eat. If you get sick you won’t—’’

He shifted his hand across her mouth, shaking his head. ‘‘Do you have any eggs?’’

She nodded behind his hand, her gaze locked on his.

‘‘Good,’’ he said. ‘‘I’ll make us some omelets.’’

‘‘But—’’

‘‘Go get your pajamas on.’’ He stood and headed for the kitchen. ‘‘Come on, Mollie. You want to help Daddy cook?’’

‘‘Uh-huh!’’ His daughter scrambled to her feet.

He found a skillet, eggs, butter, milk and cheese and with Mollie’s ‘‘help,’’ started the omelets. He couldn’t cook many things but he was competent with the few he could.

By the time he’d set the small table in her kitchen, the first omelet was done and he put it in the oven on a plate to keep it warm until the rest were finished.

Kristin walked into the kitchen a few minutes later, clad in an oversize T-shirt and jogging shorts.

He frowned. ‘‘I thought you were going to put your pajamas on.’’

She rolled her eyes. ‘‘These are my pajamas.’’ She fingered the edge of the bottoms. ‘‘Minus the shorts.’’

Minus the shorts. He turned back to the skillet, doing his best not to think about Kristin in nothing but that T-shirt skimming the tops of her thighs. Thighs he could imagine all too well, thanks to those short skirts she’d taken to wearing recently and the trim little shorts that bared a smooth expanse of creamy legs that looked a mile long.

He flipped the last omelet, then withdrew the plate from the oven, slid the omelet atop the others and set it on the trivet he’d placed in the center of the table.

‘‘How about some salad with that?’’ Kristin retrieved a bag of lettuce and assorted salad ingredients from the refrigerator, added several bottles of dressing and salad bowls, and then they took their seats.

As they always had when they ate together, they clasped hands and let Mollie say the little prayer she’d learned in Sunday school. When Kristin would have withdrawn her hand afterward, he held onto her with a light grip, and she stilled. ‘‘I’ve really missed our meals together,’’ he said quietly. ‘‘Thanks for letting us join you.’’

She sent him an almost shy smile from beneath her lashes. ‘‘You’re welcome. I’m glad you stopped by.’’

‘‘Me, too, or your door might have been open all night.’’ He sent her a mock-frown, and when she grinned, he finally began to feel that they were almost back on a normal footing. As normal as it could get, considering.

Derek cut up some egg for Mollie while Kristin dished out salad. It was quiet but comfortable and they listened to Mollie chatter. He allowed Mollie to leave the table after a short while since she already had eaten one dinner and didn’t seem terribly hungry.

‘‘Any luck tracing your financial problem?’’ he asked Kristin. For some reason, he found himself as reluctant as she to give voice to the ugly accusation of embezzlement.

She shook her head. ‘‘No, but I have a meeting with Rusty tomorrow at lunch and I’m going to show him what I’ve found.’’

‘‘Do you want me to be there?’’ It was an impulsive offer, born of his concern for her.

Her eyebrows rose and a look of surprise flitted across her features. ‘‘I think I can handle it.’’ She smiled at him. ‘‘But I appreciate the thought.’’

He wanted to talk to her about the feelings rolling around inside him, but he wasn’t sure how to start. And in any case, he couldn’t seem to make himself utter a word.

Kristin’s smile faded. She reached over and laid a hand on his arm. ‘‘Derek? Are you all right?’’

No. How can I be all right when all I can think of is you? And it wasn’t just the sexual thoughts that were making him crazy, although they sure weren’t helping. He’d always cared about Kristin in a platonic big-brother way. But now there was a more personal element to the way he felt, a tender sweetness that caused his chest to tighten and his heart to pound. It was just friendship, he assured himself. He had cared about her for years.

Aloud, he said, ‘‘I’m fine.’’ He laid his free hand over hers where it rested on his forearm. ‘‘Will you come over for dinner tomorrow evening? I’m on call, but you know how that goes. It probably will be quiet until about 2:00 a.m.’’ He smiled sheepishly. ‘‘And I have an ulterior motive. I’d like your opinion on some of the applications I’ve received for the nanny position.’’

Her smile faded. ‘‘I already have plans for tomorrow evening. I’m sorry. Could we make it Saturday night?’’

What plans? Who with? ‘‘Sure,’’ he said. He lifted his hand and moved his arm out from under hers, busying himself picking up dishes while he fought the jealousy that urged him to demand she tell him her plans. Was she going out with the Fourth of July date again? Or someone entirely different?

She silently began helping him clear the table, putting things in the dishwasher and setting salad dressings back in the refrigerator. When he risked a glance at her, her expression was unreadable, and an unaccountable streak of annoyance ran through him. He realized he’d expected her to try to smooth things over, to cajole him into talking to her like she always had before when he’d gotten into what she called ‘‘a mood’’ about something.

But she hadn’t. She acted as if she weren’t even aware of his mood, and that made him feel even worse. She’d cared before. He knew she had. But ever since she’d brought up marriage and he’d flipped out, things hadn’t been right between them. And now…now he was afraid maybe he’d ruined the relationship he had with her.

She’d said she was glad he’d stopped by. Did she mean that? Was it directed at him, or was she simply pleased that he’d brought Mollie to see her?

No, she’d been smiling at him when she’d said it, smiling in a very feminine way that he was certain had been meant for him.

The telephone rang.

‘‘Oh, rats,’’ Kristin said.

He glanced at her. She’d just plunged her hands into soapy dishwater. ‘‘Do you want me to get that?’’

She shrugged. ‘‘Sure. Thanks.’’

He reached for the handset in the cradle on the far counter and turned it on. ‘‘Hello?’’

There was a moment of silence. ‘‘May I speak to Kristin, please?’’ It was a deep, masculine voice.

A wave of sheer, unadulterated jealousy ripped through him. He had to work to keep the satisfaction from his voice as he said, ‘‘I’m sorry, she can’t come to the phone right now. May I take a message?’’

‘‘Sure.’’ The guy sounded ridiculously cheery. ‘‘Is this Kristin’s father?’’

The question caught him flat-footed. Her father? Was the guy kidding? ‘‘No,’’ he said, aware that his voice was more than a little testy. ‘‘It isn’t.’’

‘‘Oh. Sorry.’’ The man sounded less sure of himself now. ‘‘Would you just tell her Rod called to confirm our date tomorrow night? I’ll pick her up at seven.’’

‘‘Sure thing.’’ Derek wanted Rod to come over so he could pound him into the ground.

‘‘Thanks, man.’’

Derek hung up the handset and slowly turned to Kristin. ‘‘That was someone named Rod. He’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow night.’’

‘‘Oh.’’ Her face grew pink. ‘‘Thank you,’’ she said in a small voice.

‘‘You’re welcome.’’ He clipped out the words, then turned and headed for the living room. ‘‘Hey, Miss Mollie, it’s time to go home.’’

‘‘No!’’ Mollie clutched another book to her breast. ‘‘Not done reading!’’

‘‘Okay. One more,’’ he said. ‘‘You have two minutes to finish that one.’’ He didn’t want to have to go back into the kitchen and face Kristin so he leaned against the wall and watched as his daughter became completely engrossed in the pages of the book she was ‘‘reading.’’

‘‘Derek?’’ Kristin’s voice was soft.

He glanced back into the kitchen.

She stood in the middle of the room, one bare foot atop the other, with that glorious out-of-control mane of hair rioting around her and falling over her shoulders. Her hands were absently twisting her T-shirt hem and she’d pulled it so taut that her smooth, flat stomach was exposed. The shirt also outlined the curves of her breasts and he realized she had no idea how she looked to him. How badly he wanted to go to her and smooth a hand down over that delicate skin, to cup her breasts and lower his mouth to them, to see that hair spread over his pillow.

‘‘Are you angry with me?’’ She was frowning.

‘‘No.’’ Not exactly. He didn’t move.

‘‘Well, then, what’s wrong?’’

He shrugged, determined not to give voice to the little green monsters racing around inside him. ‘‘I’m just not very satisfied with our relationship right now and I don’t know what to do about it.’’ Well, that was honest.

‘‘You don’t have to do anything about it.’’ Her chin lifted a fraction.

He turned completely around to face her without saying a word, merely holding her gaze with his until the belligerence drained out of her expression.

He should leave. He was going to leave. He was leaving right now.

He stepped toward her, reaching for her hands, prying her fingers out of the shirt fabric and intertwining his fingers with hers. ‘‘I’m not trying to hurt you,’’ he said quietly.

‘‘I know.’’ Her throat moved as she swallowed and suddenly there were tears swimming in her eyes.

‘‘Don’t cry,’’ he whispered. ‘‘We’ll work it out.’’

‘‘How?’’ Even though her voice was as quiet as his he recognized the challenge in the single syllable.

A taut, expectant silence hummed between them for a moment.

‘‘I don’t know.’’ He felt his shoulders sag. God, what was he supposed to say? Was she still hoping he’d change his mind about marriage?

Without warning, an image of Kristin languidly reclining in his bed, her mane of hair trailing across his white sheets, assailed him. Marriage would give him unrestricted access to her lithe, subtle curves, to her sweet, drugging kisses, to the shattering pleasure he knew he could find in her arms.

Marriage. That was crazy. He couldn’t marry her. You were supposed to marry someone you loved, not someone for whom you had a critical case of lust overload.

‘‘’Tay, Daddy, I’m ready.’’ Mollie’s book banged shut with a loud snap and he heard her scrambling to her feet.

‘‘I’d better take her home.’’ He knew it was a cop-out, saw the ember of hope in Kris’s eyes flicker and die. But he was too shaken by his thoughts to figure out what to do or say to repair the damage.

She slipped her hands free from his and walked around him to scoop up Mollie for a tickle and a kiss. ‘‘Thanks for making me dinner.’’ But she didn’t look at him again. ‘‘See you, squirt.’’

‘‘Bye, Mommy.’’ His daughter threw her arms around Kristin’s neck when she knelt and threw herself into Kris’s arms so wholeheartedly that Kristin had to put a hand hastily to the floor to keep them both from being pushed right over backward.

Mollie put her hands on either side of Kristin’s face and peered deep into her eyes. ‘‘Tiss.’’

‘‘Okay. A nice big kiss and then Daddy will take you home.’’ Kristin suited the words to the action.

Derek opened his mouth to remind Mollie not to call Kristin ‘‘Mommy.’’ But then he shut it again without speaking. His throat grew tight and he had to swallow the lump that rose as he watched his little girl hug Kristin. The love in their embrace was undeniable.

Mollie was right. For all practical purposes, Kris was her mother, the only one his child had ever known. Kristin had devoted herself to Mollie since her birth, because Deb had been too sick to handle the demands of a healthy infant, and she’d probably spent more time with his daughter than many working mothers did with their own offspring. Already, Mollie had known more of a mother’s love than Kristin had in her entire life.

Funny, he’d never really thought of the parallel before. Kristin’s mother had died of a cerebral hemorrhage hours after a fall on a patch of ice before Kristin was even a year old. Kris, better than anyone, knew what it was like to be motherless, and she’d devoted herself to making sure Mollie had never felt the same lack.

Was he crazy for refusing to consider a marriage between them?

Kristin rose, taking Mollie’s hand. He was prepared for her to avoid eye contact as she had in the past when things had gone wrong between them, so it was a shock to see her smiling at him as she handed off his daughter. An unpleasant shock. The smile was friendly and completely impersonal, as if they’d never kissed, never discussed anything more vital than the weather. And while he was trying to figure out what to say to her in this new mood, she herded them both out her front door. ‘‘See you around.’’

She shut the door and he heard the lock snick into place before he was even off the stoop. As he strapped Mollie into her car seat, he realized she hadn’t said she would see them Saturday night. Was she going to cancel on him?

She met the treasurer of the board of the sanctuary for lunch again on Friday. Rusty was a few minutes late and they ordered immediately, then he sat back and smiled at her.

‘‘So,’’ he said, ‘‘I guess you’re not keeping Dr. Mahoney’s little girl any more now that you’re working full-time for us.’’

She shook her head and smiled. ‘‘No.’’ She refused the urge to elaborate and waited for him to speak.

He studied her for a moment, and she wondered what he was thinking. ‘‘Kristin,’’ he finally said, ‘‘I’ll be honest. I’d like to ask you out. I just always thought that you and Derek—’’

‘‘—are both very aware that Mollie needs to grow up in a family atmosphere,’’ she finished when he hesitated. ‘‘Her mother died just months after she was born, remember?’’

He nodded. ‘‘Yes. So would you like to—’’

‘‘Rusty,’’ she said, ‘‘I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to go out with someone who’s employing me.’’

‘‘So that means I’d better hurry up and find a permanent executive director, I guess,’’ he said. ‘‘Unless I can talk you into accepting the position on a permanent basis. You’ve stepped in like you’ve always done the job and I know you’d be an asset to the sanctuary.’’

‘‘Not a chance,’’ she said, smiling at him. ‘‘I’ve got plans for myself and they don’t include the AAS. Even if it was my father’s dream come true.’’

‘‘Everyone should have the chance to pursue their own dreams.’’ He gave her his most charming smile and not for the first time, she wondered why she couldn’t be head-over-heels for someone like Rusty. He was good-looking and athletic and he liked animals. He had his own business that apparently did quite well, judging from the sleek sports car he drove and his membership at the local country club. He had flirted with her since the first time they’d met, but she’d never been interested. She’d never been able to see beyond her feelings for Derek.

Cathie, on the other hand, hadn’t liked Rusty at all. He’d asked her out several times when she’d first come to town, but she’d brushed him off consistently. Rusty was a player, she’d always said. And she didn’t want a man she’d have to watch for the rest of her life. All she wanted was a good guy who would treat her like precious china and give her children.

‘‘I still can’t believe Cathie’s gone sometimes,’’ she said.

Rusty sobered immediately. ‘‘I can’t, either. She was terrific in that position.’’

‘‘She was a lovely person,’’ Kristin said quietly.

‘‘Well, sure, that goes without saying,’’ Rusty said.

She hated to have to tell him what she’d found but she had no choice. ‘‘Rusty,’’ she said, ‘‘I’ve found a serious problem in the sanctuary’s financial statements.’’

‘‘Oh?’’ His gaze sharpened. ‘‘We’re in pretty good shape, thanks to the income from that anonymous trust that came in just before your dad passed away.’’

‘‘It’s not that.’’ Now that she had his attention, she went on to explain about the missing funds.

Rusty looked shocked. ‘‘Are you sure?’’ he asked several times. ‘‘Cathie couldn’t have done that. Could she?’’ But there was a kernel of doubt in his tone.

‘‘I can’t believe it, either,’’ Kristin said.

‘‘Jeez.’’ He smoothed a hand over his thick, wavy copper hair. ‘‘Have you told the police?’’

‘‘Not yet.’’

‘‘So you haven’t told anyone else. That’s probably a good thing.’’ His tone assumed she hadn’t, and she didn’t correct him. It hadn’t really been a question. Derek was the only other person who knew, and since he was going to be sitting on the board, he would have to know soon anyway.

‘‘I brought a summary of the information along.’’ She handed the folder across the table.

Rusty stashed it in his briefcase as though it might contain illegal drugs. ‘‘God, Kristin, be careful with that. The last thing we need is negative publicity for the sanctuary. Can you imagine what would happen to donations if this gets out?’’

She shuddered. ‘‘I don’t even want to think about it. I’ve been having nightmares already.’’

‘‘I don’t think we should tell anyone yet,’’ he said. ‘‘You haven’t found anything linking her to this?’’

‘‘Not yet,’’ she said.

‘‘Could you possibly be wrong? Could it just be a clerical error with transposed numbers or something?’’

She shook her head. ‘‘That was the first thing I was hoping for, too.’’

Rusty sighed and plunged both hands into his hair, resting his elbows on the table. ‘‘God, it makes no sense. Why would she have done it? Was she having financial problems?’’

‘‘Not that I know of.’’ She shrugged helplessly. She knew how he was feeling. She’d been through all of these thoughts a million times.

‘‘All right.’’ He sighed. ‘‘Tell you what. You keep looking to see if there’s anything you haven’t found yet. I’ll make some very discreet inquiries of my banking friends and run a credit check to see if she was spending any odd amounts of money.’’ He shook his head. ‘‘There’s no point in blackening her good name if she really wasn’t involved.’’

‘‘But who else could it be?’’ she asked. ‘‘You and Walker are the only other two people who could access sanctuary funds, right?’’

‘‘Unless,’’ Rusty said slowly, ‘‘someone was forging signatures or something.’’

That hadn’t occurred to her and she felt better immediately. Maybe Cathie really hadn’t had anything to do with embezzling the money.

She refused dessert on the grounds that she had a lot of work waiting, and parted company with Rusty soon afterward. As she drove back to the sanctuary, her mind was whirling with thoughts. She’d have to look at some of those cancelled checks again. If it had been done electronically, it would be much more difficult to find.

Kristin’s date that evening was fun. Rod, the man she’d met when he came to do some electrical work with the shelter, had told her to dress casually. She was glad she’d heeded his advice and worn a pair of her new denim shorts.

He took her miniature golfing, then to dinner at a Mexican restaurant where they sat outside on a small stone terrace and drank margaritas while their dinners were made. Rod’s partner in his business joined them with a date of his own, and although Kristin had never met either of them before, they were pleasant and amusing dinner companions.

He drove a small, modern sports car with a convertible top and he’d folded it down at her request. Rod was unquestionably attractive. He was in great shape, his sense of humor was wicked yet not unkind and his friends were as nice as he was.

And yet she felt a little deflated at the end of the evening when he walked her to her door. She caught herself comparing him to Derek at least five times that evening and she was thoroughly annoyed that she couldn’t even go out on a date without thoughts of the wretched man intruding.

Rod, unaware of her mood, slid an arm around her waist as they walked toward her stoop. At the door, he brought her to a halt, turning to face her. ‘‘I had a great time this evening, Kristin.’’

‘‘So did I,’’ she forced herself to say lightly.

‘‘I’d like to see you again.’’

‘‘It was fun,’’ she said without committing herself. ‘‘I enjoyed meeting Kevin and Leslie.’’

‘‘How about if I call you next week and we see if we can schedule another get-together?’’

‘‘All right.’’ She hadn’t actually said she’d go out with him, she told herself. All she’d agreed to was receiving his phone call.

He looked down at her, then put his hands on her shoulders and drew her near. She lifted her face for his kiss, allowing the gentle pressure for a moment before drawing back a fraction, and with a last warm smile, Rod said, ‘‘Good night.’’

‘‘Good night.’’ She waved him off and stood on the stoop for a moment before she turned and unlocked her door. Rats. What had she been hoping for? Fireworks? Rod’s kiss had been pleasant, but there was no zing. At least, not on her part.

She went inside and shut her door, then leaned back against it, thinking. It hadn’t left her breathless and shaking, the way she’d felt after that first night Derek had kissed her. It hadn’t left her wanting more, wanting to press herself against every hard inch of him, wanting his hands to touch all the secret, throbbing parts of her that quivered with desire.

A knock on the door scared her so badly she actually gave a small scream as she leaped away from the cool surface against which she’d been lingering. One hand flew to the base of her throat. ‘‘Who is it?’’ she called cautiously, pushing the small button that illuminated her watch face. Good grief. It was after eleven. Who in the world—

‘‘It’s Derek. Let me in, Kris.’’