Читать книгу Jacob's Proposal - Eileen Wilks, Eileen Wilks - Страница 10

Jacob was in no mood for an interrogation. He would have made some excuse to avoid walking Michael to his car if he’d thought he could get away with it, but he knew his brother. Once the light of curiosity was fixed in Michael’s eyes, there was no turning him aside. That curiosity had nearly gotten him killed more than once, a fact that troubled Jacob a good deal more than it did Michael.

He was more or less resigned to his fate when he opened the kitchen door and stepped out into a damp, sunny morning. After a couple of blessedly dry days, it had showered again last night.

Their grandfather had built his mansion with his gaze fixed firmly on the past, setting the garage behind the house like a carriage house from the last century. A gravel path led the way through the boxwood and yew border that screened the building from view.

“How’s your head this morning?” Jacob asked.

“As unhappy as my stomach.”

“If you’d drink something other than that rotgut you were guzzling, you might not have a hangover.”

“But I have such a delicate constitution.”

Amusement lightened Jacob’s mood. “Mighty gentle flowers they grow in Special Forces.”

Michael grinned, but didn’t reply. Their feet crunched on the gravel. Water dripped silently from trees to bushes to ground, the drops gemmed by sunshine, and the sky was a bold, clear blue—the color of childhood, to Jacob. Of solitude and freedom.

When Michael spoke again, his voice was carefully casual. “You’ll get my prenuptial agreement tucked away safely?”

When Michael had turned up unexpectedly last night, he’d announced that he was getting married and getting drunk—not in that order. The marriage would take place as soon as he got back from his current assignment.

“I’ll take care of it. I wish you’d reconsider, though. I’m not looking forward to having a piranha for a sister-in-law.”

Michael shrugged. “You won’t have to put up with her long. There are a few things you forgot to mention last night, weren’t there?”

“As I recall, we spoke mostly of your unwanted bride.”

“We talked about marriage. The one I’m planning, and the delay with yours, now that Maggie turned you down. You didn’t mention that you’ve already got her replacement picked out and under siege.”

“We don’t have time to be choosy.” It was an accurate statement as far as it went, but he was grimly certain Michael wouldn’t be satisfied with it. His youngest brother could be damnably perceptive at times.

“You’ve always been choosy. Take your new assistant—a very choice specimen. In fact, she may be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Beauty is a subjective judgment, though, isn’t it?”

“I suppose a male kangaroo or orangutan might not find Claire beautiful. But a man would. Any man. No doubt the man she’s living with thinks she’s incredibly beautiful.”

Jacob stopped. “She’s not living with a man.”

“Did she tell you that?” Michael shook his head. “I didn’t think a cynic like you would accept a woman at her word.”

“I know damned well she isn’t living with anyone. Adam North handled the background check himself. He’s thorough.”

Michael stared at him a moment, then started to laugh. “You had your prospective bride investigated?”

“Of course.”

“Of course,” Michael said, lightly mocking. “‘All policy is allowed in war and love,’ I suppose. Which are you embarked on, Jacob—love or war?”

“Business. That sounded suspiciously like poetry.”

“Some eighteenth-century playwright, I think. Sorry. St. Vincent’s influence lingers like cheap perfume. Tell me, did you have him run a background check when you hired her, or after you decided to have her?”

“I prefer to have as many facts as possible before entering into any agreement. Marriage is as potentially treacherous as any other partnership, and I don’t know Claire as well as I knew Maggie.”

“True. Which makes me wonder…you seem to have given up on getting Maggie to marry you pretty easily.”

“I haven’t abandoned my goal. I’ve simply changed one element.”

“The identity of the bride, you mean?”

This conversation was beginning to irritate Jacob. “What made you think someone was living with Claire?”

“Shameless eavesdropping. Her door was open when I came down the hall, and I caught the last part of a conversation she was having with someone named Danny. I didn’t catch a last name.” He paused. “From things she said about some repairs, it was obvious he’s living in her house. Or else she’s been living in his.”

Jacob’s mind sorted through the data in the report he’d been reading when Michael arrived last night. “Danny is her cousin. They’re close. He probably needed a place to stay, since he’s out of work more often than he’s employed.” Was Danny important to her? It seemed likely. Jacob considered what that might mean to his plans. The way to succeed in any deal was to learn what the other person wanted badly enough to give up what you wanted in return.

“Sometimes cousins are too close.”

Jacob’s mouth crooked up. “Who’s being cynical now?”

“Cynicism is one legacy from our father we don’t have to wait to claim.”

Memories of Randolph West always conjured mixed feelings. “True. I still hope to avoid part of his legacy, however.”

Michael grimaced. “Yeah. Which is why I wasn’t surprised you picked Maggie. You aren’t as resistant to the married state as Luke and me, and Maggie is pretty much the type you would settle on. She’s not the sort to tie a man into knots. Claire McGuire, though, surprises the hell out of me.”

“You don’t think I’m as susceptible to beauty as the next man?”

“Her looks are more complication than explanation. Why her, Jacob?”

Why, indeed?

She was kind. He hadn’t expected that. It was the sort of kindness that rose naturally from a warm heart, brimming over onto those around her, charming without the intention to charm. Cosmo had been won over within moments of meeting her, not because she was beautiful—that could have caused all sorts of problems—but because she simply, sincerely, liked him. Accepted him, tattoos, prison record and all.

She liked and enjoyed Ada, too. What was more, Ada liked her, and Ada was a harder nut to crack than Cosmo. And she smiled at Jacob’s jokes. That could have been courtesy or tact, but most people didn’t even know when he was joking. She did.