Читать книгу Just Between Friends - Julianna Morris - Страница 12

“It’s the pizza guy.”

Kate’s pulse jumped at the sound of Dylan’s voice coming from the other side of the front door. She took a last look at herself in the mirror and smoothed a strand of hair at her temple.

She’d taken great pains to dress casually in off-the-rack clothing. There wasn’t any need to remind him about her family’s money. Of course, he was very successful now, and his oldest brother’s current financial status made the Douglas fortune look like pocket change, but that didn’t alter the fact that at one time she’d been rich when he was poor.

“I hope that pizza is still hot,” she said, opening the door. “I don’t tip for cold deliveries.”

Dylan grinned. “You shouldn’t open the door without being sure it isn’t some weirdo on the other side.”

“I knew it was you, so there wasn’t any doubt it was a weirdo.”

“You have a real way about you, Katydid.”

Kate stepped back so he could enter. Dylan always seemed so big to her, maybe because he topped her by at least ten inches and eighty pounds of muscle. Lord, he gave her a weak feeling in the tummy. He wasn’t as perfectly handsome as his brothers, but he had a raw sexuality that was powerful and completely irresistible.

A secret smile tugged at her mouth.

Dylan’s rugged good looks caused a stir wherever he went. It wasn’t any wonder that the women he met at fund-raisers were curious about him, and more than a little envious when she showed up on his arm. Of course, the old guard of her grandmother’s generation could be snotty, but she’d seen them bowled over by his charm, nevertheless.

“I brought some wine,” Dylan said, waving a bag.

“Okay,” Kate said unenthusiastically.

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, I know you prefer milk with pizza.” Instead of a wine bottle, he pulled a carton of milk from the bag.

Just like that, he made her feel ten years old again. Milk was for little girls and kittens, not sophisticated women.

“Maybe I’ll have beer tonight,” she muttered, walking into her kitchen. The converted apartment over the garage was the one place on her grandmother’s estate that she liked. The garage had once been a carriage house with living quarters above, and it was hidden from the main house by a stand of trees. She had a private entrance to the estate, so her friends had been able to visit without being scrutinized by Nanna Jane.

Really, her grandmother should have worked for the CIA. She would have made a great spy.

Dylan set the pizza box on the old farm-kitchen table she’d rescued from a junk heap. Kate automatically opened the cupboard to get some plates, then shook her head. Dylan always said regular people didn’t eat pizza off plates—they just grabbed a napkin and chowed down.

“Have you…mmm…decided…” Her voice trailed, instincts telling her that he wasn’t ready to discuss anything beyond dinner. “That is, do you want beer or wine? I have your favorite beer, and I think I have some red wine, too.”

Dylan restrained his grin. “Milk is fine. You don’t need to have a drink on my account.”

“I’m over twenty-one, I can drink alcohol.”

“Yeah, but you don’t like it.”

She gave him a narrow look that announced he was on extremely thin ice. “This is about you thinking I’m still a child, right?”

“Chugging beer isn’t going to change my opinion one way or the other,” Dylan murmured. Kate was so cute with her feathers ruffled that he enjoyed shaking her up now and then.

She thumped two glasses on the table. “You’re impossible. A total pill.”

“I know.”

Dylan spied a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth and shook his head. She really was a sweet kid.

All afternoon he’d been thinking about her crazy plan to get married. He supposed that it was natural Kate would turn to him for help—he’d been playing protective big brother ever since they’d met. Despite her family’s money, she’d had a lonely childhood, spending more time with the family servants than with her family. When he’d come with his dad to wash the cars and do yard work she’d tagged along, always at his heels, asking questions and making him feel…

He sighed.

Might as well admit it, Kate had made him feel big and important, even though he was just a skinny youngster wearing hand-me-down jeans and T-shirts. In a funny sort of way she still made him feel big and important whenever they were together, teasing and calling him her best friend.

“Such a serious face.” Kate opened the carton of milk and filled their glasses. “If you behave yourself you can have a wine milkshake later.”

“And if I don’t behave, what do I get then?” Dylan’s voice deepened provocatively, startling him.

Where had that come from?

He’d never flirted with Kate. She was a bright, annoying kid who he was fond of, but he’d never considered anything romantic with her. Heck, he’d seen her knobby knees when she was a youngster and listened as she bemoaned her flat chest. Not that she was flat-chested any longer. In fact, she had a very nice set of measurements. So nice it was…he hastily put a brake on his unruly thoughts.

Kate blinked, obviously surprised. Then she tossed her head and gave him a slow smile. “You’ll get something better than a wine milkshake, that’s for sure.”

Dylan didn’t have time to decipher the expression in her eyes before she spun around and grabbed a shaker of crushed red pepper from the counter.

“Do you want fresh-grated Parmesan on your pizza?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Uh…I think they included some. Not fresh-grated, but good enough,” he muttered, still trying to sort out what had just happened. For God’s sake, he’d actually been flirting with a girl he regarded as a kid sister. Romance with Kate had never occurred to him, and if it had, he would have laughed at the idea. She was too rich, too flighty, too everything.

“Okay.”

She set the hot pepper sprinkles next to his glass of milk, which made him grin despite his inner turmoil. Kate didn’t like spicy food, which was why he always ordered their pizza as half vegetarian and half meat-lover’s special. She’d eat a couple pieces of the vegetarian and he’d have the rest.

Yet his smile faded as he gazed at the table. Kate had bought a special shaker and filled it with crushed red pepper after the time the restaurant had forgotten to include any with their order. She might be a royal pain, but she was fiercely loyal to her friends. Nothing was too much trouble when Kate Douglas was on your side.

A stab of guilt hit Dylan. Was it really such a sacrifice to marry her for a year? They got along pretty well, and it wasn’t as if he was dating anyone seriously. In fact, a convenient not-really-a-marriage with Kate would get his mother off his back about finding a nice girl. Now that three of her children were happily wed, Pegeen O’Rourke was even more determined to see the rest of them married off. It was something to think about.

“Earth to Dylan,” Kate intoned, jolting him back to the present. She dropped into a chair and rested her chin on her hand. “I’m hungry, how about you?”

“Right,” he muttered. “Hungry.”

A spicy fragrance rose from the large pizza inside the box, and they ate quietly for several minutes. Silences between them had always been comfortable and natural, but Kate’s earlier proposal had changed all that. He was crazy to even consider marrying a spoiled princess with the staying power of a soap bubble. Everything about her was delicate, from her golden hair and sea-green eyes to the arches in her small feet. She didn’t have a clue about the tough things in life.

Of course, if they did get married it wouldn’t be real. They’d be like roommates, with separate lives and separate beds. Legally, they’d end with a divorce, but as far as his conscience was concerned, it would be an annulment. A marriage that hasn’t been consummated isn’t a marriage in the first place.

“You aren’t having any hot pepper,” Kate said, shifting uncomfortably.

She couldn’t understand the peculiar expression on Dylan’s face or the way he stared at her. It wasn’t desire or affection—more like she had spinach caught in her teeth.

He shook the red pepper on his pizza and continued eating. She glanced around her cozy home and thought about what it would be like to share it with someone. She’d hate losing the carriage house because of Nanna Jane’s will, but it would be worse to lose her best friend. Maybe she should just tell Dylan she’d changed her mind and was giving up the estate.

Yet when Kate opened her mouth, the words stuck in her throat. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life wondering about what might have been. It was hard enough having spent her entire adult life pining after a man who thought she was still a kid. So instead of saying anything, she bit into a second slice of pizza.

She wanted to be like Great-Grandfather Rycroft Douglas, who threw his hat in the wind and dug for gold in the land of the midnight sun. That’s where she wanted to spend her honeymoon, in Alaska, celebrating the rebellious spirit she’d inherited from him.

All at once the corners of Kate’s mouth turned down. If she married Dylan—and it was a big if—there wouldn’t be a real honeymoon. Darn it all. She didn’t know whether to be angry about the conditions in Nanna Jane’s will or grateful for the opportunity.

“What’s wrong, Katydid?” Dylan asked quietly. “Are you thinking about your grandmother’s will?”

Her startled gaze flew to his. “How did you…?”

“I can tell you’re unhappy about something, and that’s the most obvious cause.”

Well, she had been thinking about the will in connection to Dylan and what the future might bring. Her spirits lifted. He’d sensed she was unhappy. It wasn’t a declaration of love, but it was better than nothing.

Kate shrugged and drank the last of her milk. “I’m all right,” she said noncommittally. She knew enough about Dylan to know she couldn’t push.

He reached across the table and drew his thumb across her upper lip. Heat rose in her cheeks both from his touch and the realization that she’d left a thin line of milk on her mouth. Lord, what her grandmother would have said about such unladylike impropriety. Kate didn’t care about the impropriety, but she hated looking ridiculous. Yet Dylan’s dark eyes were curiously warm.

“Dylan?” she whispered.

For a long moment he just stared at her lips. The breath caught in her throat and a tingling sensation crept across her nerves. Was he thinking about kissing her, or just wondering what it would be like? She’d only thought about it a few thousand times, but who was counting?

“I…I’ve been thinking about what you said…suggested this afternoon,” he muttered. “If we do it, we’ll need to sign a prenuptial agreement. It should be clear when we end things that we each keep what we owned before the marriage. Your grandmother’s lawyers can draft the thing—they’ll probably insist on it, anyway.”

The hope cascading through Kate came to a crashing halt.

A prenuptial agreement?

That’s what he’d been thinking about?

“You think I’d try to take part of your business?” she gasped. “How could you even begin to think such a thing? I don’t want a penny of your money. That’s absolutely the most ridiculous, unbeliev—”

“Whoa.” Dylan clamped his hand over her mouth. “Dammit, that isn’t what I meant. Your grandmother’s property alone must be worth more than my construction business, not to mention your trust fund and everything else. I’d just want to make it clear that I’m not interested in your family fortune.”

Annoyed, Kate nipped the callused palm of his hand with her teeth. He yanked his hand away with a low growl.

“So you want to save your pride with a pre-nup,” she snapped. “Announce to the whole wide world that you don’t think our marriage will last. Shall we publish the details in the Seattle Times classifieds, or do you think a simple announcement to our friends and families will be enough?”

Frustrated, Dylan ran his fingers through his hair. “It wouldn’t be a real marriage, so what does it matter what everyone thinks?”

She gave him a baleful look.

If Dylan didn’t already know what mattered, he probably wouldn’t ever know. It wasn’t just wounded pride—though her pride was already plenty wounded—it was something more fundamental. Dylan was her best friend; she trusted him in ways she’d never trusted anyone. She didn’t want a prenuptial agreement because legal agreements were for people who didn’t trust each other.

Unfortunately, she needed a reason that a pragmatist like Dylan O’Rourke would accept.

“It has to look like a real marriage,” she said. “Or the lawyers will make trouble. A pre-nup might seem suspicious.”

Dylan frowned. “Won’t they want to protect you just in case? At the very least your father will insist on me signing something. I don’t think he likes me that much.”

A pang went through Kate. Her father wasn’t the protective type—sometimes she wondered if he remembered her name.

“I doubt it,” she said dryly. “Father and Mother are in Europe for a few months. I doubt they’ll even come back for the wedding.”

“Katy—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kate said hastily, not wanting Dylan to feel sorry for her. “But you should know that Grandmamma’s will says we have to live on the property for a year as husband and wife.” It was the truth, and she was quite certain her grandmother’s snooty lawyers would scrutinize the situation like a gaggle of gossiping old biddies.

“You mean we have to live in that mausoleum?” Dylan groaned.

Kate’s heart jumped because it sounded as if he’d decided to help her. “The will just says we have to live on the property, so I thought we’d stay here in my place.”

“Here?”

“It seems easiest, especially since the big house needs a huge amount of work to be comfortable,” she said, trying to sound practical. Dylan was the kind of man who’d want a practical wife, and she had every intention of being the best wife in the world. “We’ll just be housemates. Of course, everyone has to believe it’s a real marriage,” she added hastily.

He glanced around her kitchen with an unreadable expression. “Your place is a little small,” he murmured.

Well, duh.

The last thing Kate wanted was to move into Nanna Jane’s mansion with its dozens of cold rooms and echoing space. She wanted them to live in a place where Dylan couldn’t avoid her, no matter how hard he tried.

It wasn’t as if she was being terribly deceitful, or anything. If he really thought about it, he’d realize how she’d been in love with him forever. And if he still didn’t feel the same about her after being married for a year, she’d agree to an uncontested divorce.

But Dylan was still looking thoughtful, so she pushed aside the possibility of failure and leaned forward. “What’s wrong with my place? It’s not that small and your company did the work to modernize it, so you know it’s in good condition.”

“Hmm…yes.” He scratched the side of his face. “But this is a great old building and there’s a lot of room for expansion. You’ve talked about enlarging—so this would be a good time to get it done. I really think it’s best.”

Kate shrugged in defeat. “All right. Draw up the plans and send me the bill.” So much for a crowded living space pushing them together. The forced intimacy would have helped—now she’d have to think of something else.

Dylan looked scandalized. “I couldn’t do that.”

“Why not? It’s just like the last time.”

“Like hell. Husbands don’t charge their wives for work they do.”

Much as Kate enjoyed the oblique reference to being Dylan’s wife, she didn’t think it was right for him to work on the converted carriage house without getting paid.

“That isn’t fair,” she objected.

“Tough,” he said, still sounding offended. “You won’t change my mind on this, Katydid. As a matter of fact, you’ll have to get used to not getting your way on everything. I’m not spending the next year saying ‘yes’ to you.”

He set his jaw, looking so endearingly macho and stubborn that a quiver went through her stomach. There’d always been a core of strength and certainty in Dylan that fascinated her. He was like a giant boulder in the middle of a river that water had no choice but to flow around. No matter what he might say, she’d never been able to talk him into anything that he didn’t actually want to do.

“Do you understand, Katydid?” he said insistently.

Her chin rose. “I understand. I’m not as spoiled as you think, and that’s something you’ll have to get used to.”

The level note in Kate’s voice made Dylan’s eyes narrow. He had the uncomfortable feeling he’d missed something significant, but he didn’t know what. Hell, women were a complete mystery. If he didn’t comprehend his own sisters, what made him think a woman like Katrina Douglas would be any easier? She lived in an ivory tower, and he lived in the real world.

“I just…all right,” he said finally. “When do you want to…uh…?”

“Get married?”

The easy way she said “married” made him wince. At least it was only for a year, and he wouldn’t have to feel responsible for her getting hooked up with the wrong man. Anyway, taking care of Kate was such a habit he wasn’t sure how to stop.

“Yeah, married,” Dylan muttered.

“It needs to be before my birthday, that’s all.”

“Okay, the sooner we do it, the sooner it’ll be over with. We don’t have to do one of those big society weddings do we?” he asked. “Your grandmother didn’t make that a requirement, did she?”

“No, just that I get married and live with my husband on the Douglas estate.”

“I’m surprised she put something so specific in the will.”

“I’m not,” Kate said glumly. “Grandmamma might have been old, but she had a mind like a steel trap. She was probably suspicious that I’d try to get around the conditions of my inheritance.”

Dylan’s breath caught in his throat as Kate stretched slowly, arching her back like a silky little cat. She took her time, reaching her hands toward the ceiling, her body twisting sensuously. It was totally innocent, and totally devastating to his already shaky peace of mind.

When she lowered her arms again she smiled lazily. “Sorry. I haven’t been sleeping well with so much to think about. It’ll be better tonight now that we’re getting things settled.”

Great.

She was going to sleep like a baby, and he was going home to a cold shower.

Gritting his teeth, Dylan ordered his body to stop behaving like a teenager with his first case of lust. This was Katydid, for heaven’s sake, he didn’t have any business getting stirred up over her. She’d asked for his help because she trusted him. Besides, it was temporary insanity. He’d get over it and then everything would be the same between them.

Ignoring the voice inside his brain that was laughing sarcastically, he leaned forward.

“How do you want to handle the ceremony?”

Kate drew a circle on the table with the tip of her finger. “How about going over to Victoria? Your brother’s wedding there was beautiful.”

A frown creased Dylan’s forehead. Victoria, British Columbia, was popular with courting couples, and the O’Rourke women had raved endlessly over what a romantic setting it had been for Kane and Beth’s wedding. But it didn’t seem right for him to marry Katydid in a place intended for lovers, not when they were just friends making a paper commitment for a year. It was much easier thinking about it that way—a paper commitment. Not really a marriage.

“I’d rather keep it smaller, here in Seattle,” he said after a moment. “Maybe just the two of us in a civil ceremony at the courthouse.”

Kate’s eyelids dropped instantly, yet he thought he saw disappointment in their sea-green depths before it was hidden. But surely she didn’t want a romantic wedding—or worse, a church wedding. There was something sacrilegious about going into a church and promising to love, honor and cherish when you were planning to get divorced in a year.

“Won’t your mother be disappointed?” Kate murmured after a moment. “I know how much she enjoyed it when Kane and the others got married. We could ask her pastor to do the ceremony. It wouldn’t have to be a big deal.”

Dylan winced.

Much as he wanted his mother to stop pestering him about settling down, he didn’t want to hurt her. But she’d be both worried and appalled if she knew the truth about why he was marrying Katydid. Fond as she was of Kate, she’d say they were making a huge mistake by using the sacred institution of marriage for something other than love. He was a little uneasy about it himself, but it wasn’t as if they’d really be married.

No sex, for one thing.

Lord, the next year was going to be dismal.

Unfortunately, sex deprivation didn’t seem like a good enough reason to say no. Dylan cleared his throat. Kate was so innocent, she probably didn’t have a clue about what she was asking from him.

“Katydid…I just don’t feel comfortable about having some preacher speak words over us.” His inexplicable physical reaction to her was causing another kind of discomfort, but she didn’t need to know about that.

A stillness crept over Kate until she slowly nodded. “I see. So we’ll do it at a courthouse, or wherever civil ceremonies are offered.”

Swell, now he felt like a selfish crumb.

Husbands probably felt like that a lot, so he was getting off to a good start. Moreover, it didn’t even make sense because Kate knew the ceremony wasn’t supposed to mean anything. So why did he feel guilty?

He sighed. “Look, I know you wanted—”

“No,” she interrupted quietly. “You don’t know. It’s fine. We’ll have a civil ceremony and explain that we were in too much of a hurry to wait for a big wedding. That should satisfy the lawyers. They’ve been nagging me about the deadline, anyway, so they should understand.”

Dylan searched Kate’s face, trying to guess what was going through her head. If she thought anyone would understand their marriage, then she was fooling herself. Katydid was like a shaft of moonlight—beautiful and unattainable, with quicksilver emotions and a pedigree of snobbish old wealth and privilege. While he was the son of down-to-earth Irish immigrants who’d worked hard and made a place for themselves in a new country.

They were utterly incompatible.

The only reason anyone might be deceived was because of the charity events she’d dragged him to over the years. Of course, his family had often hinted about something between them, but he’d always laughed it off.

Now they were the ones who’d be laughing.