Читать книгу The Tycoon And I: Safe in the Tycoon's Arms / The Tycoon and the Wedding Planner / Swept Away by the Tycoon - Barbara Wallace, Barbara Wallace - Страница 11
ОглавлениеKATE SANK DOWN on the black-cushioned chair, mortified that she’d shown up on this man’s—this stranger’s—doorstep and fallen to pieces. The staggering hospital bill already had her worried beyond belief, but combined with the unexpected appearance of her ex-husband it was just too much. It wasn’t often that she let down her guard. And she really wished it hadn’t been in front of Lucas.
The steaming shower had helped clear her mind. She’d given in to a moment of fear that she would fail her daughter, but the time for uncertainty had passed. She must be strong now. Besides, she refused to fall to pieces again in front of Lucas. He must already think that she was...what? Pathetic? Weak? Looking for a handout? Or all of the above? She wasn’t about to confirm any of his suspicions—not if she could help it.
He pushed a cup of steaming coffee in front of her. “Drink this. It’ll warm you up while I run to the deli and get us some lunch.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry for imposing again. I...I just started walking and thinking. Eventually I ended up here.”
Her hands were clammy and her muscles tense as she clutched the warm ceramic cup. Her gaze strayed to Lucas as he strode over to the center island where his jacket was draped over a stool as though he might have been headed somewhere before she showed up. His strides were long and his dark jeans accentuated his toned legs and cute backside. His collared shirt was unbuttoned just enough for her to catch a glimpse of his firm chest. He’d certainly make some woman a fine catch—except for his lack of housekeeping skills.
He slipped on his jacket. “You can play solitaire on my computer.”
“I hate making you go out in the rain—”
“I was going out anyway. I guess one of these days I need to do more than just drive past the grocery store.” He flashed her a lighthearted smile. “Do you want anything in particular to eat?”
She shook her head. “I’m not picky.”
“I won’t be long.” He rushed out the door.
Kate was exhausted, but there was no time for sleep. She needed to plan out how to raise the funds for the surgery. Her lengthy walk had given her time to think and she knew there was no way a bank would lend her that kind of money. And she didn’t have any rich aunts or uncles lurking in the family tree. That only left a fund-raiser. A big one!
Lucas had said she could use his computer. She pulled up a search engine and began typing. Eventually she stumbled across the fact that the Carringtons used to organize fund-raisers, some even taking place in this very mansion.
Somehow Lucas must have missed the social gene. This house wasn’t fit for him to live in much less provide a venue for entertaining. If only the mansion had been better maintained, it’d be ideal for a premium ticket event.
Before she could search for alternate locations that might attract wealthy donors, Lucas returned with a large bag. “Hope you’re hungry.”
“Looks like enough to feed a football team.”
“I wasn’t sure what to order. So I got a little of this and a little of that.”
They quietly set the table and spread out the food. Kate’s belly rumbled its anticipation. She eagerly munched down her sandwich before Lucas was even halfway done with his. He pushed another foil-wrapped sandwich in front of her.
“That must have been some walk,” Lucas said as she unwrapped the food.
“I had a lot of thinking to do.”
After she’d left the hospital, she’d tramped around the bustling streets of Manhattan. She’d been surrounded by people from all walks of life and yet she had never felt more alone—more scared that she’d fail as a mother. But thanks to Lucas’s kindness the panic had passed and her determination had kicked in. She would see that her little girl got what she needed—one way or the other.
“And did you get everything straight in your head?”
She glanced away, unsure how to answer. She didn’t want him to think any less of her for losing complete control of her life, but she hated to lie, too. She took the middle road. “I still have a lot to figure out.”
“You know, I find when I have problems at the office that talking them through usually helps. We conduct brainstorming sessions where my key people sit around tossing out ideas, no matter how crazy they might sound. One thing leads to another until we have some potential solutions. Would you like to give it a try?”
She didn’t know why he was being so nice to her. A warm shower. His übercomfy robe. A cup of hot coffee. More food than she could ever eat. And now a sympathetic ear. His kindness choked her up and had her blinking repeatedly.
“Hey, it can’t be that bad.” Lucas squeezed her forearm.
The heat of his touch seeped through the robe, igniting a pulse of awareness. The sensation zinged up her arm and short-circuited her already frazzled mind. Then just as quickly as he’d reached out to her, he pulled back. It was as though he realized he’d crossed some sort of invisible line.
She sniffled. “Actually my life is a nightmare right now.”
“The visit to the hospital—was it because you’re sick?”
“I wish that was the case.”
His brows lifted and his eyes grew round. “You want to be sick?”
The horrified expression on his face made her laugh. She couldn’t help it. Maybe this was the beginning of some sort of nervous breakdown, but the look Lucas shot her across the table tickled her funny bone. He probably thought she’d lost control of her senses. But she was perfectly sane and this was deadly serious.
Her laughter was immediately doused by the thought of her daughter. “I don’t want to be sick. But if someone must be ill, it should be me. Not my four-year-old daughter.”
Lucas sat back in his chair as though her words had knocked him over. “What’s the matter with her?”
“Molly needs an operation. That’s why we came to New York. No one else was willing to take the risk. But before anything can be done, I have to come up with the money to pay for the surgery.”
Lucas’s brows scrunched together as though he were processing all of this information. “Excuse me for asking, but don’t you have insurance?”
“It doesn’t cover experimental procedures. And every cent I have won’t make a dent in what I owe.”
His blue eyes warmed with sympathy. He nodded as though he understood. That or he ran out of kind words to say. Either way, she’d already said too much.
“I’m sorry. This isn’t your problem. I only stopped back to get my things.”
“Where will you go?”
“I...I don’t know. I hadn’t gotten that far yet. But I’ll figure out something. I always do.”
She got to her feet a little too quickly. The room started to spin. She grabbed the back of the chair and squeezed her eyes shut, willing the sickening sensation to pass.
The sound of rapid footsteps had her opening her eyes. A worried frown greeted her. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look it.”
“It’s nothing. I just stood up too fast.” That combined with three hours of shut-eye the night before and plodding around in the rain on top of the news that she owed the hospital a small fortune had left her drained and off-balance. But she refused to play the sympathy card. She didn’t want him thinking any less of her. Then again, was it possible to sink lower in his estimation? She stifled a groan.
“I think this news has taken its toll on you.” Lucas stared at her, holding her gaze captive. “Do you have family around to help?”
Did Chad count? Not in her book. “No. My mother is out of town and my father... He’s not in the picture. It’s just me and Molly.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
An awkward silence ensued. Hoping to fill in the gap so he didn’t feel that he had to say anything sympathetic, she added, “We do okay on our own. In fact, I should get back to the hospital soon.”
“I’m sure your little girl misses you.”
The mention of her daughter had her remembering Lucky Ducky. She pulled the keychain from the pocket of the robe and fidgeted with it.
“I see you have your duck handy. Is it special? Or do you just like to have something to fidget with?”
Kate stared at the trinket. “My daughter gave it to me after winning it at Pizza Pete’s Arcade. She said it was to keep me company. I tossed it into my purse and eventually it became sort of a good luck charm.”
“He looks like a reliable, no-nonsense duck. No quacking around.”
She found herself smiling at his attempt at levity. “He’s definitely seen me through some tough times. Now, I should get cleaned up. Molly’s dad will be leaving soon and I need to be there when he does so she isn’t alone.”
His gaze moved to her bare ring finger. “You’re married?”
“No. Chad’s my ex-husband. And...” She shook her head, fighting to hold back another yawn and...losing the battle. “Never mind. I keep rambling on when I need to get out of your way. I’m sure you have better things to do.”
“What time are you expected back at the hospital?”
“Not until three. It’s best if my ex and I keep our time together at a minimum. Molly has enough to deal with. She doesn’t need to see her parents arguing.”
“You still have a couple of hours until you have to be back. Why don’t you take a nap and later I’ll give you a ride to the hospital?”
His offer filled her with a warmth that she hadn’t felt in a long time. “I couldn’t ask you to do that. You don’t even know me.”
“You aren’t asking. I’m offering. And after I kept you up late last night, I owe you this.”
“But it isn’t necessary—
“It’s still drizzling outside. You don’t need to get wet again. So do we have a deal?”
“How is it a deal? What do you get out of helping me?”
“Let’s just say it feels good being able to help someone.”
She had a feeling there was more to his statement than he let on. Was he wishing that someone would help him? What could a wealthy, sexy bachelor need help with?
She looked into his blue-gray eyes. “Are you sure?”
“I am. Now do you promise you won’t go sneaking off again?”
She was exhausted. And he seemed determined to be a Good Samaritan. What would it hurt to accept his offer?
“I promise.”
* * *
A ball of sympathy and uneasiness churned in Lucas’s gut. He knew all too well the hell a parent went through when they felt as if they’d lost control of their children’s safety. When his ex-wife had up and left him, she’d written only a brief note saying she’d take good care of their little girl. Until his private investigator had tracked her down in California, he hadn’t been able to function.
This thing with Kate hit too close to home. But how could he turn his back on her when her daughter was in such shaky circumstances?
He needed time to think. In fact, that’s all he’d been doing since Kate went upstairs to lie down. But it was almost three and he hadn’t seen any sign of her. The memory of her pale face and the dark smudges under her eyes had him thinking she was still asleep. Perhaps she’d forgotten to set the alarm on her phone. Or maybe she was so tired that she’d slept right through it. He couldn’t blame her.
He should wake her, but the thought of going upstairs left a sour taste in his mouth. He hadn’t been upstairs in a long time. There was nothing up there but gut-wrenching memories of everything he’d lost—his family...his little girl.
Still he had to do something. He’d given his word that he’d get her there on time. The thought of a little girl—the image of his own daughter crystallized in his mind—sick and alone spurred him into action.
He moved to the bottom of the steps. “Kate!” Nothing. “Kate, are you awake? It’s time to head to the hospital.”
He waited, hoping to hear a response or the echo of footsteps. There were no sounds. Surely she hadn’t left again without saying anything. Unease churned in his gut. No. She’d promised and he sensed that she prided herself on keeping her word.
“Kate, we need to go!”
The seconds ticked by and still nothing. There was only one thing left to do. His gaze skimmed up the staircase. He’d been up and down those stairs countless times throughout his life and he’d never thought anything of it. Then came the day when he’d climbed to the second floor only to find his wife was gone along with his baby girl. The memory slugged him squarely in the chest, knocking the breath from his lungs.
That never-to-be-forgotten night he’d cleared out his personal belongings and moved to the first floor. He’d wanted to avoid the memories...the pain. Now because of Kate and her little girl, he had to climb those steps again.
Putting one foot in front of the other, he started up the stairs. He faltered as he reached the landing with the large stained-glass window, but he didn’t turn back. He couldn’t. This was too important.
He turned, taking the next set of steps two at a clip. His chest tightened and his hands tensed.
Don’t look around. Don’t remember. Just keep moving.
His strides were long and fast. He kept his face forward, resisting the instinct to survey his surroundings, to let the memories crowd into his mind—not that they were ever far away.
Lucas stopped in front of her door and blew out a pent-up breath. He rapped his knuckles on the heavy wood door. “Kate, are you awake?”
Nothing.
He knocked again. Still no response.
Was it possible she was sick? Walking around in the cold air while soaking wet certainly couldn’t have done her any good. And he wasn’t going downstairs until he knew she was all right.
He grasped the handle and pushed the door open. The drapes were drawn, allowing shadows to dance across the spacious room. When his eyes adjusted, he spotted Kate sprawled over the king-sized bed. Her breathing was deep. The stress lines were erased from her beautiful face. And her pink lips were slightly parted and very desirable.
He squashed his line of thought. Now wasn’t the time to check her out, no matter how appealing he found her. Relationships weren’t in the cards for him. In the end, people just ended up hurting each other. And he wanted no part of that.
“Kate.” His voice was soft so as to not scare her. When she didn’t stir, he stepped closer. “Kate, wake up.”
She rolled over and stretched. The robe fell open, revealing a lace-trimmed pink top that hugged her curves and rode up, exposing her creamy white stomach. The breath caught in his throat. She was so gorgeous. He shouldn’t look—he should turn away. But what fun would that be? He was, after all, a man. A little glimpse of her fine figure wouldn’t hurt anyone. Right?
Her gaze latched on to him and the moment ended. She bolted upright.
“Lucas. What are you doing here?” She glanced down, cinching the robe closed. “I mean I know it’s your house and all...but what are you doing in my room...umm, your guest room.” She pressed a hand to her mouth, halting the babbling.
“I tried calling up the steps and even knocked on the door, but you were out to the world.”
“What do you want?”
The question was a loaded one and set off one inappropriate response after the other. The first of which was for her to move over in bed. The next thought was for her to kiss him.
He cleared his throat, hoping his voice would sound normal. “It’s time to go back to the hospital.” He turned for the door. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Drip... Drip... He paused and listened. Drip...
Lucas turned on his heels. “Is the faucet in the bathroom leaking?”
“Umm...no.”
“But that sound. Something’s dripping.” He squinted into the shadows. Frustrated, he moved to the light switch. “Can’t you hear it?”
“Of course I hear it. I’m not deaf.”
He flipped on the overhead light and spotted a wastebasket in the corner. A quick inspection of the ceiling showed water gathering around the bloated section of plaster. Droplets formed and dropped. Bits of fallen plaster littered the floor.
“What the—” He remembered his manners just before cursing. His mother had been the epitome of proper form. Carringtons should never lower themselves with vulgar language, she’d say. Especially not in front of guests.
“It’s been like that since the rain started. You need a new roof.”
His jaw tightened. “Thanks for pointing out the obvious.”
“I told you when we met that I’m an interior designer. I know more about houses than just how to properly hang a painting.”
“So you do roofing, too?”
She smiled. “No, I’m not a roofer, but that doesn’t mean I can’t find someone qualified to do a rush job. Because if you’d look around, you’d realize that isn’t your only leak.”
This time he didn’t care about his manners. “Damn.”
He’d turned a blind eye to the house to the point where he had no idea this place was in such bad condition. This went far beyond the mopping and cleaning he’d envisioned. There was considerable damage to the ceiling that was now bowing, and the crown molding was warped and crumbling.
Kate listed everything she’d noticed that needed repair. Unable to bear the guilt over the devastation he’d let happen to his childhood home...to his daughter’s legacy, he turned his gaze away from the ruined plaster. Kate continued talking as though she was in her element. Who knew that fixing up old houses could excite someone so much?
She got to her feet and straightened the bed. “If you want I can make a few phone calls to get people in here to start fixing things up. Maybe they can change things up a little and give this place a makeover—”
“No. I don’t want people in here, making changes.” He ground out the words.
A frown creased her forehead. “Of course there will have to be changes. Nothing ever stays the same. Life is one long string of changes.”
The only changes he’d experienced lately were bad ones that left him struggling to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Like his last visit with his daughter in California—when she’d turned away from him because he was now a stranger to her.
“Listen to me,” Kate said, moving to stand right in front of him. “You’re going to have to make some decisions about this place. You can already see the neglect is taking its toll. Once it’s fixed up, you can move out of that tiny room in the downstairs—”
“I’m happy there.”
She frowned at him as though she didn’t believe a word he said. “Perhaps then you might consider moving to someplace smaller and selling this house to some lucky family who will appreciate its charms.”
He glanced around at the room. This had been his aunt’s room, back when he was a kid. In this room, he’d always felt safe and accepted just as he was. This house was a scrapbook of memories, some good, some not so good. He couldn’t turn his back on it all.
Ghosts of the past filled his mind. The walls started to close in on him. Each breath grew more difficult. He needed space—air. He headed for the door, ignoring Kate’s plea for him to wait. With his gaze straight ahead, he marched down the hall, his breathing becoming more labored. It felt as though the oxygen had been sucked out of the house.
No matter how much he hated to admit it, Kate had a point. This mansion was in worse shape than he’d ever imagined. His shoulders drooped beneath the weight of guilt. His parents and grandparents would be horrified if they were still around to see the neglect he’d let take place. They’d entrusted him with the care of the Carrington mansion and he’d failed. His chest burned as he rushed down the stairs.
Even if he someday won over his little girl—if she no longer looked at him like a scary stranger—he couldn’t bring her here. He couldn’t show her the numerous portraits of her ancestors that his ex-wife had stashed in the attic. The dust. The peeling and cracking plaster. And most likely mold. It just wasn’t fit for a child—or for that matter, an adult.
In the foyer, he yanked open the front door. The cool breeze rushed up and swirled around him. He stood in the doorway as the rain pitter-pattered on the pavement. He breathed in the fresh air—the coolness eased his lungs.
As his heart rate slowed, his jumbled thoughts settled. Kate was right. The house did need more repairs than he’d ever thought possible. And he was way past putting it off until another day. Then a crazy idea struck him. But could it work?
