Читать книгу The Boss's Baby Arrangement - Catherine Mann - Страница 11

Three

Water swirled around Maureen as she plummeted into the murky bay off the side of the boat.

Swimming had never been an issue for her. In Ireland, her childhood adventures had often unfolded in rivers and lakes. The water called to her. When she was young, she’d hold her breath and dive in undaunted. She’d even told her parents she was searching for kelpie—mythical Irish water horses. They were dangerous creatures of legend—sometimes drowning mortals for sport. At eight, Maureen was convinced that she could find kelpie and clear up the misconception. Her inclination to help and heal ran deep, to her core.

But here, in the swampy waters of Key Largo, there was no mythical creature that might whisk her to the bottom and drown her. No, in this water, an alligator slinked by. An animal that actually had the capacity to knock life from her lungs.

She tread water, schooling her breathing into calm inhales and exhales. Or at least, this was the attempt she was making. Boggy, slimy weeds locked around her ankle, twisting her into underwater shackles.

Adrenaline pushed into her veins, her heart palpitating as she tried to force a degree of rigidity into her so-far-erratic movements.

From her memory depths, she recalled a time not unlike this one. She’d been swimming in Lake Michigan after her parents had relocated to Michigan. She’d been caught in weeds then, too, but her father had been there to untangle her. And that lake had lacked primitive dinosaur-like predators, which had made the Lake Michigan moment decidedly less dramatic.

Eyes flashing upward, she caught the panic flooding Xander’s face.

Ready to help her.

The weeds encircling her ankle pulled against her. Damn. How’d she managed to become so ensnared so quickly? The pulse of the tide slashed into her ears, pushing her against the boat.

A loss of control kicked into her stomach. She heard vague shouting. Easton? Maybe. His voice seemed far away.

The grip on her ankle pulled taut, forcing her below the surface. The more she tried to tread water, to grab hold of the boat, the more she was pulled down. A new sort of tightness tap-danced on her chest. A mouthful of salt water belabored her breathing.

A vague sense of sound broke through her disorientation. Xander’s voice. That steadying baritone. “Maureen, I’m coming!”

Words drifted to her like stray pieces of wood. Her salt-stung vision revealed Xander’s muscled form coming toward her. She made out the people behind him—his in-laws. Even from here, blurry vision and all, she read the concern in their clasped forms.

In an instant Xander was there, face contorted in worry. With an arm, he stabilized her against the boat. Air flooded her lungs again.

“I’m okay. I can swim. I just need to get my foot untangled from the undergrowth.”

“Roger.” He started to dive.

She grasped his arm. “Be careful of the—”

His gaze moved off to the side where the gator lingered with scaly skin and beady eyes. “I see. And the sooner we get out of here the better.”

He disappeared underwater, a trail of small bubbles the only trace of him. Sinking fear rendered a palatable thrum in her chest—a war drum of anxiety. The gator disappeared under water.

Time stood on a knife-edge.

Suddenly she felt a palm wrap around her ankle and release her from the weeds. On instinct, she drew her knee to chest.

Xander followed. The edge of worry ebbed but refused to fade.

“I’m sure you can swim. But humor me. You may not know you’re injured.”

“I don’t want to slow you—”

“And I don’t want to hang out here in the swamp with gators and God only knows what else in addition to the leaking gas. Quit arguing.” No room for negotiation in that tone. It must be the same voice Xander used in boardroom meetings.

“Okay, then. Swim.”

His arms around her, she felt warmth leap from his body to hers. Feeling small and protected for the first time in ages. The muscles in his arm grew taught and retracted as he moved them through the water. Steadying her breathing, pushing her fear far away.

The water gave way to mucky sand and he helped her wade through that all the way to the shoreline.

Her body shook of its own accord. As if by reflex, he wrapped her into a tight hug and her head fit snugly beneath his chin.

The world, which a moment ago was filled with panic and fear, stilled. His breath on her cheek warmed her bones with more intensity than the tropical sun.

In that space, adrenaline fell back into her bloodstream. But fear didn’t motivate that move this time. Awareness did as he held her close, breathing faster, somehow keeping time with her ragged heart. His body felt like steel against hers as she pulled away from him, her eyes catching his, watching as they fell away to her lips.

She hadn’t imagined it, then, noting his desire.

“Maureen?” Her name sent the world crashing back into place. Willing her eyes away from his, she looked over her shoulder to see his in-laws and Easton standing a short distance away.

Knowing he needed coverage, even if just for a moment, she turned to face them, careful to stay angled in front of Xander. As if he’d done it a thousand times before, his hands fell to her shoulders. A mild but welcome distraction.

Xander’s in-laws were visibly distraught.

“Are you okay?” Xander’s father-in-law asked, face crumpled like he smelled something rotting. Maureen nodded dully, afraid her words might betray something private and real about this moment.

The man shifted focus from Maureen to Xander. “And you?”

“Yes. Thankfully. More of a scare than any real harm.” His hands squeezed Maureen’s shoulder blades before dropping. Immediately she felt the echo of his absence from her skin.

His mother-in-law sniffed in response. “Honestly. What if that had been Rose? I’m just glad she wasn’t out here. A nature refuge is lovely, of course—” ice entered her words “—but such a dangerous, unpredictable place isn’t so well suited for our grandchild.”

Maureen squinted at the woman’s response, which felt more like a warning than anything else.

* * *

Hours separated him from the gator run-in and he still couldn’t think straight.

He’d always been a pro at compartmentalizing events, locking his personal life away so he could focus on whatever task at hand. That proved infinitely difficult with this afternoon’s events.

As if his mind was a film loop, he kept revisiting Maureen falling in the water, a gator just a few feet away. The moment she looked like she was struggling sent him tumbling into action—a reflex and urge so primal, he couldn’t ignore it.

Nor could he ignore the way she’d looked, soaked to the bone in her swimsuit. The feel of her shuddering with relief when they were on solid ground. How that relief reverberated in his own gut as he’d looked at her full lips.

There was no denying how turned on he was. The connection he’d felt to her in that beachside embrace had made him so damn aware of her. Sure, she’d always been attractive. He knew that, but there was something so sexy about the way she’d endured the gator run-in.

He wanted her, down to his core. All day, his thoughts drifted to her.

Did life ever get easy?

Watching his in-laws with his daughter provided a quick answer to that question. Delilah and Jake weren’t mean—they were matter-of-fact. Particular. Things had to be just so.

Reflecting back on Terri’s perfect makeup and clothes, he saw what a lifetime of being scrutinized could do. How that constant second-guessing had sometimes wrought Terri up with anxiety. Especially when her parents came for a visit. She’d agonize on the arrangement of pillows and the tenderness of the pasta. Her mother and father always had a critique, a method of alleged perfection. Deep down, he knew they meant well.

Seeing Delilah straighten Rose’s bow and quietly comment on staying proper rubbed him the wrong way. He wanted his daughter to grow up confident in her own worth.

He wanted to bring up his child.

“You know, Xander, we could help you with Rose. Keep her until school starts. We’re retired now and we can devote all of our attention to her.” Delilah’s polished voice trilled. She had been hunched over Rose, examining the little girl’s drawing.

“Ah, well, I know she looks forward to seeing you both. I think that helps enough,” he said sympathetically. The pain of loss seemed to form a permanent line on her brow.

“Barry, our family friend and lawyer, you remember him? He mentioned that the court might see an arrangement with us to suit Rose better. We know how hard you work. We have the time to devote to her that you may not right now.” Jake stood behind Xander, resting a hand on his shoulder.

The blood beneath his skin fumed, turned molten. He had to keep his cool. “Well, I know how much you love Rose. But it’s time for her to nap. She’s still not feeling well.”

Smoothing her dress, Delilah nodded. “Yes, she does need rest.”

“I’m sure you feel similarly. You both should probably get settled in your hotel.” His even tone held a challenge in it. He needed separation from them. Boundaries.

Especially now, because their intent had come into full view. They were here to spy on his proficiency as a father.

A more sinister thought entered his mind. What if they just snatched her away? It echoed in his mind as he saw them off the property and as he walked back into the room where his daughter slept. He looked at Elenora, a woman in her fifties with kind brown eyes, and left instructions with a caution about the issue with his in-laws. Elenora had to stay with Rose, and if anyone tried to come on the property, he was to be alerted at once.

The woman nodded her understanding. Feeling satisfied, he walked to his other unofficial charge. He went to find Maureen. Needed to make sure she was okay after her accident. There had been no time to actually check on her—not with his in-laws so close by.

Striding over to the clinic—another retrofitted and well-windowed building—his pace quickened. An urgency to move filled him. The stress of his in-laws, their constant reminders of the danger of the refuge and the way he was raising Rose. It all slammed into him.

Opening the door to the clinic, the sour smell of oil assaulted him. He turned the first corner in the building to see Maureen and a gaggle of oil-soaked seabirds. When the boat tipped, oil had seeped into the water and drenched the feathers of about five birds. The refuge had rounded them up for cleaning.

Maureen worked quickly, using the Dawn dish soap generously to lift the layers of oil from delicate feathers. He studied her, once again reminded of the intense gut-kick he’d felt earlier when she’d fallen into the water. The fear of loss knotted. He hated that fear.

Maureen cooed at the birds, mimicking their squawks with absolute precision. From a distance, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d felt like she was actually talking to them. A real conversation. Her heart seemed to soar with delight as every inky layer of oil was lifted from the feathers of the bird.

Easton, a few feet away in the exam room, diligently looked over every bird Maureen had expertly cleaned.

Her hair was wet and piled on top of her head in a loose topknot with a few spiral curls escaping. She wore surgical scrubs. Apparently she’d only taken a quick shower to remove the muck from herself before going to work again.

She probably hadn’t even thought about getting her own ankle examined. So like Maureen. So tender.

As she stood rinsing a bird, a smile on her lips, he felt the world slip away again. Mesmerized by her grace and movements.

And so kind. That fact, her empathy and patience, it was the remedy he needed. One that might even strike favor with his hard-to-please in-laws.

* * *

Gently, Maureen worked the oil out of the bird’s left wing feathers, careful not to squeeze too tightly and damage the delicate bones. Moments had fallen away before she registered someone lingering by the door frame.

Not just someone. Xander.

Heat flooded into her cheeks as she remembered the way their bodies had pressed up against each other after the gator run-in.

“Are you okay? That was quite a spill you took.”

She shrugged her shoulders, tongue unable to articulate any of her whirring thoughts.

“What makes a girl—hell, anyone—want to wrestle with alligators?” He inched closer.

“They don’t bite nearly as hard as the ones in the boardroom,” she volleyed back, thankful to find her voice again. He unnerved her fully.

“Funny.” A puff of a laugh teased against his teeth, leaving behind a serpentine hiss.

“And I can outrun them.”

“Also funny. But seriously, why this career?”

A loaded question. Freedom. This career awarded her a sense of sky and life the way nothing else could. “Why any career? Why would you want to stay inside all the time?”

“I enjoy the corporate challenge and I have a head for business. Without that, places like this would close down. It almost did.” A defensive edge filled his tone.

She flashed a toothy smile, raising an eyebrow as a soap bubble floated in the space between them. “True enough. And without me, places like this wouldn’t exist. I wanted to be a veterinarian. I just had to find my niche.”

“So someone threw an alligator in your pool and you knew?” His lips parted into an incredulous smile and she found it hard to concentrate. Averting her gaze, she turned back to the double-crested cormorant, the bird made its traditional guttural noise that sounded much like a grunting pig. Funny. Endearing. It helped her re-center, refocus on her work with the greenish-black bird that sported an adorable orange neck.

“I was actually out on a field trip for school. My work group got separated from the rest and we were lost, wandering around deeper into the moors. The fog rolled in and we couldn’t see what was around our feet. It freaked out the others in the group, but I found that soup of nature...fascinating. I just wanted to reach down in there and run my fingers through the mist. I felt...connected. I knew.” She gestured to the world around her. “This is what I’m supposed to do with my life.”

“You are...an incredible woman.”

She felt the blush heat her cheeks. His compliment shouldn’t matter but it did. Her self-esteem had taken some serious dings during her marriage. “Thank you. I’m just a lucky one.”

“Hard work certainly increases the odds of good luck.”

“Still, life isn’t always evenhanded.” In fact, she felt like it was often like an out-of-balance scale. All the counterweights were askew. Looking at him now, leaning casually against the workstation, definitely riled her sense of evenhandedness. Being attracted to him was not without complications. Serious work-altering complications. And then, there was the problem of her work visa expiring.

His face went somber. “True enough.”

“Oh, God.” She touched his arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”

“It’s okay. Really. I can’t spend the rest of my life having people measure their every word around me. I wouldn’t want that for Rose, either. I want her to grow up in a world of happiness.”

Searching for some level ground, she offered, “I’m sure she’s being pampered to pieces by her grandparents.”

His face went even darker.

“What did I say wrong?” Her stomach knotted.

“It’s not you. It’s just that my relationship with them has become strained since Terri died. They miss her, I understand that. We’re all hurt.”

“Everyone could tell how much you loved each other.”

“We’d known each other all our lives.” His voice was filled with a hollow kind of sadness.

“So you’ve known her parents as long, too. They should be like parents to you, as well.”

He barked out a laugh. “If only it was that simple.”

“I don’t want to pry.”

He shook his head. “You’re not. They blame me for not taking care of her. I was working late when she died. If I’d been home on time, maybe I would have seen the symptoms, gotten her to the hospital in time...”

In his tone, she could hear how many times he’d replayed that night in his head. Played the what-if game. She knew how painful the potential of what-if could be.

“You can’t blame yourself.” Her voice was gentle but firm.

“I do. They do.” Quieter still, he took a step forward, buried his face in his hands as if to shut out any chance of redemption. But Maureen knew a thing or two about “phoenixing”—the importance of being birthed by fire and ash.

“Easton told me the doctors said there was nothing that could have been done.”

She reached a soapy hand for his, certain Xander needed a small show of comfort. Her heart demanded that of her.

“I wish I could believe that. I wish we all could.”

“That has to have left a big hole in your life.”

“It has.”

“I’m so sorry.” And she was. So damn sorry for how things had played out for him. For the burden of a future he’d glimpsed but could never have. She understood that sort of pain.

“I have our child. And I can’t change things.”

“Stoic.”

He leveled a sardonic look her way. “The problem with that?”

“Nothing.”

“Even I know that when a woman says nothing, she means something.” He half grinned, an attempt at light in a shadowed spot. A good sign. A necessary one. And Maureen used that light to ask the question that had burned a hole in her mind all day.

“I just wonder who...”

“Who what?”

“Who helped you through that time?” Immediately she regretted the push for information. Stammering, she continued. “Th-that’s too personal. Forget I said anything.”

He waved his hand, dismissing her retraction. “Holding my daughter comforted me. There’s no way to make the pain go away. Enough talk about me. What about you? Tell me your life history if you expect mine.”

“I’m from Ireland.” An evident truth and perhaps a cop-out answer meant to delay going deeper.

“Great mystery there, lass.” He re-created a thick brogue, sounding like an Irishman in a BBC production. The gesture tugged a smile at the corners of her mouth.

“My accent’s not that thick.”

“True. And why is that?”

She looked up at him through her lashes as she finished the last bird’s wing. “My father worked for an American-based company in Michigan for ten years.”

“Is that what drew you back here?”

“Maybe. I needed a change after my divorce and this opening came up. I got the work visa. Here I am.” That was the heart of the story. No lies, but nothing to sink his teeth into. Maureen was always much more comfortable asking people how they felt and what they needed than sharing her own details, especially after her divorce.

“And now it’s time to go home.” He tipped his head to the side. “You don’t seem pleased about that. I imagine your family has missed you.”

“They weren’t pleased with me for splitting with my ex. They accused me of choosing my job over my marriage.”

“Your husband wasn’t interested in coming with you?”

“No, he wasn’t. I didn’t ask, actually. We’d already split by then, but my parents didn’t know.” She shook her head. “But I don’t want to talk about that. Nothing more boring than raking over the coals of a very cold divorce.” The need to change the subject ached in her very bones.

“Whatever you wish.”

Time to shift back to Xander. To something of the present. “What brought you out here?”

“I need your help.”

“Is there an animal loose?”

He held a hand to his chest, acting as if he’d been wounded by her insinuation. “I think you just insulted my manhood. I may not be my brother, but I can handle a stray critter.”

Damn, he was too handsome and charming for his own good—or her sanity.

She considered his words for a moment before pressing further. “Snakes?”

“Sure.” He nodded.

“Birds?”

“A net and gentle finesse?”

“A key deer?”

“I could chase it with the four-wheeler.”

The image of Xander loaded up in a four-wheeler corralling key deer sent her giggling. She’d never seen this fun side of him before and she couldn’t help but be enchanted by the flirtatious game. After all, it was safe, not likely to lead anywhere. “Gators?”

“Stay away from the gators.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Quite frankly, I would rather handle the gator than wrestle the numbers and executives you deal with.” She shuddered. “And living in an office? No, thank you.”

“But you’ll stay in the boat when it comes to the alligators from now on.”

“Of course.” She winked playfully at him, enjoying the lighthearted, no-pressure moment. “What did you want to ask me?”

“How’s your work visa extension progressing?”

Ugh. Now that was a sobering turn to the conversation. This wasn’t new information. The question confused her. “Not well.”

“I can help you.”

“You’ll put in a good word for me?”

“I already did that and clearly that’s not enough.”

“Then what are you proposing?”

“That’s just it. I’m proposing.”

His words thundered in her brain, a reality she couldn’t quite locate yet.

Proposing?