Читать книгу Tall, Dark & Gorgeous - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 13

LOGAN was not looking forward to this meeting. But it had nothing to do with his mother being there—and everything to do with Darcy’s presence!

Logan had done as she’d asked, and telephoned his mother this morning—at a time he knew she would be up. After years of working in the theatre, mornings were not Margaret’s best times. Except that he knew she was filming for a television series at the moment, so her hours were not quite so antisocial; in fact, she sounded quite cheerful when she took Logan’s call.

Logan wished he felt as cheerful. But, after a virtually sleepless night, he was feeling tired and bad-tempered. He had laid awake for hours thinking about Darcy Simon, trying to fathom out why it was she affected him in the way she did. It did not help to improve his temper this morning that he simply hadn’t been able to come up with an answer!

Blaming his reaction on a smile just wouldn’t do. For goodness’ sake, it was only a smile!

Darcy was nothing like the women he was usually attracted to: beautiful, self-confident, emotionally independent women. Darcy was only beautiful when she smiled—and that wasn’t too often when around him, thank goodness. Her self-confidence could do with a little working on too. As for her emotional independence—he had lost yet another handkerchief to her tears!

So why was it that he couldn’t get her out of his mind, that even last night, when he had gone to the restaurant, it had been in an effort to make sure everything was once again right with her world?

Then to cap it all, he had deliberately set himself up for yet another meeting this week with his mother—for Darcy’s sake!

He closed his eyes momentarily. A pint-sized girl, with smoky grey eyes, and hair the colour of a fox’s fur in the rain filled his mind; a girl, moreover, who had kicked him in the shin, and threatened to throw a glass of wine over his head! Come to think about it, his personal life had been in an uproar from the moment he’d first met her!

No doubt his secretary, Karen, in light of her view that his life lacked surprise and spontaneity, would consider Darcy’s unpredictability to be good for him. She would be wrong! He wasn’t at all comfortable with the twists and turns things were taking at the moment.

‘You’re frowning again, Logan,’ his mother remarked at his side as he drove them both to the hotel where they were to meet Darcy for afternoon tea, Logan having picked her up from her apartment ten minutes earlier.

‘If I am it’s because I do not appreciate being dragged into the complexities of your personal life,’ he clipped. After years of avoiding his mother’s turbulent private life, he was not amused at being thrust into the centre of it in this way.

His mother shrugged. ‘You arranged this meeting, Logan, not I.’

‘Because Darcy asked me to, and for no other reason.’

‘Hmm,’ his mother murmured thoughtfully. ‘I may have asked you this before, but—just how well do you know Daniel’s daughter?’

He gave her a cold glance. ‘I don’t,’ he snapped—at once assaulted with the memory of Darcy in his arms, of the naked softness of her body.

His mother looked puzzled. ‘You told me the other day that the two of you are friends.’

‘Were,’ he corrected. ‘And even then that was probably too strong a description of our relationship. Since you came into the equation, an armed truce is probably a better way of describing how Darcy views things between us.’

‘Yet you were the one she asked to set up this meeting between the two of us,’ his mother said slowly.

‘Only because her father didn’t stay around long enough to do it himself!’ Logan pointed out.

His mother swallowed hard. ‘I hurt Daniel very badly when I broke our engagement.’

‘Then why did you do it?’ Logan exploded.

‘What choice did I have, when you refused to help me?’ his mother told him bluntly.

Logan’s hands tightly gripped the steering wheel. ‘Don’t turn this around on me—’

‘I’m not, Logan.’ She sighed, reaching out to lightly touch his arm. ‘I’m just pointing out that I did tell you what I intended doing if Darcy couldn’t be talked round. Daniel wasn’t willing for me to meet her. And you refused to help me…’ She paused. ‘There seemed no other way.’

‘You could have done what you usually do—blast away and not worry who gets mown down in the process,’ he said nastily.

His mother looked at him, with a sad expression. ‘One day, Logan, I hope that you and I might be able to sit down and talk over the past like the two adults we now are. I said “one day”, Logan,’ she inserted firmly as he would have made a deriding reply. ‘So,’ she asked briskly. ‘Daniel tells me that Darcy is a level-headed, kind-hearted young lady; what’s your opinion?’

Logan was so taken aback by the unexpectedness of the question that, for a few moments, he wasn’t able to formulate an answer. Even when he did, it wasn’t an answer he could give to his mother! Because he found Darcy tempestuous, not level-headed, and as for kind-hearted—! Anyway, the state of Darcy’s heart, kind or otherwise, was something he didn’t want to know about!

‘My opinion is that you wait until you meet her and judge for yourself,’ he replied noncommittally as he drove down to the basement car park of the hotel.

Maybe having his mother around for this meeting with Darcy wasn’t such a bad thing after all, he decided, after taking one look at Darcy as she sat in the hotel lounge waiting for them to arrive.

Why had he never thought her beautiful? Today, in a bright red trouser suit—that should have clashed with that vivid red hair, but somehow didn’t—teamed with a black blouse, both fitting the slenderness of her body perfectly, and her hair loose and gleaming down to her shoulders, her eyes huge, lashes thick and long, blusher colouring her cheeks, a bright red gloss on her lips, Darcy was absolutely gorgeous!

In comparison, his mother had played down the dark sensuality of her own beauty, wearing a demure grey skirt suit with a black blouse, even her make-up was less pronounced today; she wore only a light blusher on her cheeks, and a pale peach lip-gloss.

Logan had no doubts that both women had made these changes to their appearance in expectation of meeting the other. His mother he didn’t give a care about; she played a role so often it was difficult to know with her what was real and what wasn’t. But the effect on Logan of this totally different-looking Darcy was one of stunned silence.

Making him fully aware that it wasn’t only her smiles that could render him speechless!

Maybe he could just introduce the two women and make his excuses? Because he wasn’t sure he could actually sit here, with his mother on one side of him, and Darcy on the other, looking the way that she did, and behave normally!

But, the introductions over, instead of making his excuses and leaving, he found himself sitting down with the two women, even agreeing to take tea with them when the waiter came over to take their order!

Willpower, Logan, he told himself disgustedly. Quite—wherever was it?

But he very quickly realised as the two women looked warily at each other that it was going to be up to him to break this initial awkward silence.

‘Were you busy at lunch-time today?’ he asked Darcy conversationally.

She seemed relieved to speak to him, hardly seeming to be able to even look at Margaret. ‘Not too bad.’

Logan wasn’t altogether sure he believed her; she still looked very tired to him. ‘Have you heard from your father?’ he asked.

‘No,’ she answered flatly, shooting his mother a brief look beneath lowered lashes.

Obviously she was wondering if Margaret had heard from Daniel Simon, Logan realised disgustedly. Well, if Darcy wasn’t going to ask her, he was!

He looked at his mother with narrowed eyes. ‘What about you?’ he pressed.

Margaret Fraser took her time answering, crossing one slender leg over the other, before looking up at him with unemotional blue eyes. ‘Logan, I— Ah, tea.’ She smiled up at the waiter as he began to place tea things on the table in front of them.

The young waiter—predictably!—couldn’t take his eyes off Margaret as he went about his duties, obviously wondering if this really could be the beautiful actress Margaret Fraser, but he was too polite to actually ask.

Logan viewed the young man’s reaction with a totally jaundiced eye. He had been seeing this reaction to his mother’s looks all his life, had found it to be the height of embarrassment when introducing her to schoolfriends, followed by university friends—the fact that she was old enough to be their mother making no difference! Old or young, men were always bowled over by the way his mother looked.

Darcy, he could see, looked slightly green as she also noted the young man’s response to Margaret Fraser.

‘Shall I pour the tea?’ his mother offered lightly once they were alone again.

She could damn well answer his question, was what she could do!

‘Go ahead,’ he told his mother dryly. ‘And while you’re at it, tell us whether or not you’ve heard from Daniel.’

Was it his imagination, or did his mother’s grasp of the teapot tremble slightly as he repeated the question…?

If it did, she quickly brought it back under control, graciously leaning forward to hand Darcy her cup of tea. But Logan wasn’t fooled for a minute; his mother might be a wonderful actress, but he had known her too long to be taken in!

‘Well?’ he pressed again once she had given him his own cup of tea.

His mother gave Darcy a small smile. ‘He was like this as a child, you know,’ she remarked. ‘Dogged!’ She shook her head. ‘He had learnt to walk by the time he was nine months old, could talk by the time—’

‘Mother!’ Logan interrupted her, heated colour on the hardness of his cheeks. ‘I’m sure Darcy has absolutely no interest in hearing when I walked, talked, or, indeed, any of those other normal childhood achievements!’

His mother raised dark brows. ‘Is it my imagination or are you a trifle tetchy today, Logan?’

A trifle—! One day he really was going to wring her neck for her! ‘No, it isn’t your imagination, Mother,’ he bit out through gritted teeth. ‘As I have already explained to you, I do not appreciate being dragged into this mess!’

‘Then, my dear Logan,’ his mother returned calmly, putting one slender hand on his arm, ‘why don’t you just leave Darcy and I to it? I’m sure we both appreciate the fact that you’re a busy man. I can easily get a taxi back later. I’m sure we can manage without you—can’t we, my dear?’ She turned to Darcy.

Logan also turned to Darcy. He was only here because of her, and he didn’t appreciate being dismissed by his mother as if he were some errand boy who had completed his job! If Darcy now did the same thing—!

Darcy pulled a face. ‘I’m sorry, Logan, I really didn’t think…Of course you must go. I’m sure you have other things you need to do.’

‘Fine.’ He slammed his teacup down on the table before standing up. ‘I’ll leave, then.’ Without waiting for further comment from either of them he turned and strode out of the hotel.

To blazes with the pair of them! He had done as Darcy had asked him, his mother had accepted him accompanying her to the hotel, and now he had been dismissed by both of them!

He was so angry he almost forgot he had driven here, that his car was still parked in the basement of the hotel. Which only served to increase his anger; between the two of them, his mother and Darcy were making a complete mess of his ordered life—and him!

Darcy watched Logan leave with a certain amount of dismay, concerned that he had left in a temper, and not exactly relishing the idea of being alone with his mother, either. But, by the same token, she didn’t think the two of them would talk frankly with Logan present, which was something they needed to do.

‘I shouldn’t worry too much about Logan,’ his mother cut gently into her thoughts. ‘He has a hot temper—which he hates. Logan likes to be in control, you see,’ she explained affectionately. ‘But a temper is often something beyond our control. However, as I said, don’t worry, his temper is hot, but it quickly goes cold again.’

It seemed quite strange to be sitting here discussing Logan with someone who knew him so intimately; not only did Margaret know when he had walked and talked, she had also been the one to care for his every need as a baby. It was hard to envisage a totally helpless Logan…!

‘I’m not worried,’ she assured Margaret. ‘I’m just a bit sad that he seems to be angry with both of us.’

His mother laughed. ‘I’m used to it; Logan has been angry with me most of his life, for one reason or another. But I can see how it would be upsetting for you,’ she said almost questioningly.

Because she wondered just how close Darcy and Logan were…?

Darcy wished she knew the answer to that herself. Last night—Better to forget last night, she instantly berated herself. But even today, Logan had telephoned his mother and set up this meeting, as Darcy had asked him to, had driven his mother here. That didn’t seem like the actions of a man who was completely indifferent to her.

She had even dressed up today, was wearing more make-up than she usually did, in the hope of showing herself in a different light to Logan. Too often he had seen her as a weeping mess, or hot and tired from working in the kitchen; she had wanted to show him that she wasn’t always like that. For all the notice he had taken of her chic appearance today she might as well not have bothered!

Darcy gave a dismissive shrug. ‘He’s been very kind,’ she answered Margaret Fraser noncommittally.

‘Hmm, most unLoganlike,’ his mother offered thoughtfully. ‘Oh, don’t misunderstand me, Darcy,’ she continued. ‘I think my son is a pretty wonderful man: kind, caring, considerate, very much the gentleman. It’s just that, usually, he tends to hide it very well.’

Darcy couldn’t help it; she smiled. It was such an accurate description of the man she had come to know this last week that she couldn’t do anything else. Logan was all of the things his mother said he was, and he really didn’t like people to realise that.

‘That’s better.’ Margaret smiled back warmly, leaning forward to pick up the plate of delicacies that had arrived with their tea. ‘Have a cake, Darcy,’ she invited. ‘We can both think about our waistlines tomorrow!’

Margaret Fraser didn’t look as if she needed to think about hers at all, slender but shapely. But then, neither did Darcy normally—so she took one of the offered cakes, a nice gooey, chocolatey one.

‘We couldn’t do this in front of Logan,’ Margaret continued before biting into the chocolate e´clair she had chosen. ‘There’s simply no way of eating a fresh-cream cake with any degree of ladylike delicacy!’ she said, before dabbing with a napkin to remove some of the excess cream from her mouth. ‘I love your father very much, you know, Darcy.’

The remark was so unexpected Darcy almost choked over her second bite of chocolate cake!

They had been talking about waistlines and cakes, for goodness’ sake; where had that last remark come from?

She looked across at the older woman, finding Margaret looking straight back at her, her gaze steady and direct, all pretence totally gone as that gaze revealed the full extent of her emotions.

This woman really did love her father…

Darcy swallowed hard before moistening her lips. ‘Logan asked you a question before he—left,’ she began slowly. ‘Do you know where my father is?’

Margaret’s gaze didn’t waver. ‘Yes.’

Darcy’s breath left her in a relieved sigh. ‘Is he okay?’

Again Margaret met her gaze head on. ‘Yes.’

Darcy nodded. ‘That’s all I need to know.’

Margaret smiled slightly. ‘Can you imagine Logan accepting my answers as easily?’

‘No,’ Darcy answered honestly. ‘But then, he doesn’t have the same interest in my father’s welfare that I do.’

‘No.’ Logan’s mother sighed. ‘Logan’s interest, unfortunately, is much closer to home. I made a bad second marriage,’ Margaret enlarged at Darcy’s questioning look.

She frowned. ‘I don’t think—’

‘It’s relevant, Darcy,’ the older woman told her quietly. ‘Logan was eleven when his father died, twelve at the time I remarried—not a good age for any boy to be presented with a stepfather!’ She looked sad. ‘More to the point, he disliked Malcolm intensely. What I wasn’t aware of, for some time, was that the dislike worked both ways. My husband Malcolm, without my knowledge, was an absolute brute to Logan. So much so that when he was fourteen, Logan informed me that he hated my husband, and me, and moved to Scotland to live with his grandfather. It took me several more years of being married to Malcolm before I realised exactly why Logan had gone. By which time our own relationship had been irrevocably damaged. He’s never forgiven me,’ she concluded sadly.

Darcy really didn’t think they should be discussing Logan in this way, and yet a part of her wanted to know, wanted to try and fathom what made Logan the man that he was. The things Margaret had told her already answered some of the questions she had about him. His willingness to help her, for one thing; he obviously knew exactly what she was going through at the thought of her father’s second marriage.

Except, because of the little time she had spent talking to her, Darcy didn’t think she was going to hate Margaret Fraser…

‘He was a child still,’ Darcy excused Logan’s behaviour.

Margaret shook her head in disagreement. ‘Adulthood, unfortunately, hasn’t changed our relationship. As far as Logan is concerned, I let him down when he needed his mother the most.’ She stared Darcy right in the eye. ‘Which is precisely why I won’t come between you and your father.’

Darcy had already realised that. But she wasn’t the child Logan had been at his mother’s remarriage; she was twenty-five years old, far too old to have any say in her father’s life any more. Besides, now that her initial shock at the idea had dissipated, maturity meant she simply couldn’t be that selfish.

‘Daniel told me that, if the two of us ever met in the right circumstances, I would like you,’ Margaret said hesitantly. ‘He was right.’

Darcy drew in a shaky breath. ‘He told me the same thing about you,’ she admitted gruffly. ‘And, again, he was right. When you next speak to him, would you please tell him—?’

‘Why don’t you tell him yourself?’ Margaret suggested warmly. ‘After he telephoned me yesterday I— It was very difficult when Logan called for me earlier. You see—your father is at my apartment, Darcy,’ she admitted awkwardly. ‘I couldn’t bear it when I knew how deeply upset he was, and so I—’

‘It’s all right, Margaret,’ Darcy cut in happily. And it was—she was just relieved to know where her father was. ‘Does he know the two of us are meeting this afternoon?’

‘I didn’t tell him,’ Margaret confirmed. ‘He would probably have insisted on coming with me if I had, and—Can you imagine Logan’s reaction to that?’ she said knowingly.

After witnessing the way he behaved towards his mother, and hearing his anger directed towards her father—yes, she could imagine only too well!

‘Do you think my father is likely to suffer a heart attack if I arrive back with you now?’ she prompted lightly.

‘Probably.’ Margaret laughed softly. ‘But he’ll quickly get over that when—’ She broke off.

‘When…?’ Darcy prompted.

Margaret gave a small smile. ‘I was being presumptuous, jumping two steps ahead.’

‘Because you believed I would give my blessing on your marriage to my father?’ Darcy easily guessed. ‘That isn’t being presumptuous, Margaret; I should never have objected in the first place. Even if you were absolutely awful—which you aren’t,’ she added hastily.

‘I wish you could convince Logan of that,’ Margaret told her almost wistfully.

Logan!

It wasn’t just a possibility now that he might be her stepbrother—it was a fact!

How on earth was he going to react to knowing that…?