Читать книгу From Single Mum to Secret Heiress - KRISTI GOLD - Страница 9

Three

Her car was back, and so was the man who’d been foremost on her mind all morning long. All night, too.

Hannah peered out the window and watched Logan emerge from her aged blue sedan dressed in a long-sleeved black shirt, faded jeans secured by a belt with a shiny buckle and dark boots. Her heart immediately went on a marathon, the direct effect of an undeniable attraction she’d experienced all too well last night. That attraction had given her the courage to kiss him, something she normally wouldn’t have the audacity to do. But by golly she had, and she’d liked it. A lot.

Hormones. That had to be it. Those pesky freaks of nature that made people act on impulse. She made a point to banish them as soon as she climbed out of bed. Granted, when he’d called to say he was bringing the car back, she’d made certain she looked more presentable than she had during their first meeting. She’d dressed in simple, understated clothing—white capri pants, light green, short-sleeved shirt and rhinestone-embellished flip-flops. Of course, she had put on a little makeup and pulled her hair back in a sleek, low ponytail. The silver hoop earrings might be a little much, but it was too late to take them off unless she ripped them out of her earlobes.

When the bell rang, Hannah automatically smoothed her palms over the sides of her hair and the front of the blouse. She measured her steps to avoid looking too eager, even though she wanted to hurl herself onto the porch and launch into his arms. Instead, she gave herself a mental pep talk on the virtues of subtlety before she slowly opened the door.

He greeted her with a dimpled grin and surprisingly stuck out his hand. “Mornin’. I’m Logan Whittaker, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Hannah didn’t know whether to kick him in the shin or kiss that sexy look off his face. She chose option three—play along for now—and accepted his offered handshake. She noticed the calluses and the width of his palm as he gave her hand a slight squeeze before he released her. “Good morning, Mr. Whittaker, and thank you for returning my car.”

“You’re welcome, but after last night, you should call me Logan.”

Cue the blush. “I’m trying to forget about last night.”

“Good luck with that because I sure can’t forget it. In fact, it kept me tossing and turning most of the night.”

She’d experienced the same restlessness, not that she’d admit it to him. “Do I need to drive you back to the lodge?”

“Nope,” he said. “One of the valet guys will be here in about ten minutes.”

Must be nice to have people at your beck and call, but she supposed that perk came with money. “Are you sure I can’t drop you off? It’s the least I can do.”

“I’m sure, but I’m not leaving until we discuss your inheritance and my proposal.”

No amount of money would ever convince her to agree to sign a nondisclosure form, even if she had no intention of aligning herself with the Lassiters. And that’s the way it would stay. “I haven’t changed my mind about the money, and the jury’s still out on the other, to coin a legal phrase.”

“Well, since you haven’t ruled it out, I think you should let me in to argue my case. I’m housebroken and I won’t destroy the furniture.”

The sexy dog. “I suppose that’s okay, but I have to warn you, the place is a mess, thanks to my child and the plumbing problems.”

He had the gall to grin again, revealing those damnable dimples and perfectly straight, white teeth. “I promise you won’t regret hearing me out.”

She already did when he brushed past her and she caught the subtle scent of his cologne. Even more when once they moved inside, he turned and asked, “Where do you want me?”

An unexpected barrage of questionable images assaulted Hannah, sending her mind in the direction of unadvisable possibilities. Clearly those inherent female desires she’d tried to bury in everyday life weren’t completely dead. That was okay, as long as she didn’t act on them. Again.

She swallowed hard and bumped the door closed with her bottom. “Let’s go in the dining room.” A safe place to interact with Mr. Charisma. “Actually, the floor’s wet in there, so we can stay in here.” First, she had to clear the worn floral couch of kid debris.

Before she could do that, Logan presented a frown that didn’t detract from his good looks one iota. “Leaky pipe?”

“You could definitely say that. I managed to cut off the water under the sink, but this morning I got up only to discover the valve is leaking, too. Now the flood waters are trying to take over my kitchen.”

“Tough break.”

When Logan began rolling up his sleeves, Hannah’s mouth dropped open. “What are you doing?”

“I’m pretty handy when it comes to pipe problems.”

“That’s not what you said yesterday.”

“I’ve learned not to reveal my skills. Otherwise I’ll be hounded every time someone has a plumbing issue. But for you, I’m willing to take a look.”

She’d already taken a look. A covert look at his toned forearms threaded with veins, and the opening in his collar that revealed tanned skin and a slight shading of hair she’d tried not to notice last night. “Now I get it. You’re really a repressed plumber masquerading as a lawyer.”

His reappearing smile had the impact of a jackhammer. “No, but I am good with my hands.”

She’d bet her last buck on that. “Thanks for offering to help, but it’s not necessary. A real plumber should be here today.”

Now he looked plain cynical. “Good luck with that, too. They don’t get in a big hurry on a Saturday.” He winked. “Besides, I’ll save you that weekend rate and check it out for free.”

He did have a valid argument, and she really liked the free part. What would be the harm in letting him peruse her pipes, or anything else of hers he’d like to peruse? She seriously needed to get a hold on her self-control. “Fine, but you’re going to get wet. I did.”

“Not a problem. Getting wet isn’t always a bad thing.”

Logan’s suggestive tone wasn’t lost on her. “Since you insist, be my guest.” She pointed toward the opening to the dining room. “Just swim through there and keep going. You can’t miss the kitchen sink.”

Hannah followed behind Logan, covertly sizing up his butt on the way. A really nice butt, not that she was surprised. He happened to be one major male specimen, and she’d have to be in a coma not to notice. Still, she refused to let a sexy, dark-eyed, dimpled cowboy attorney muddle her mind. She’d let him fix her sink and say his piece before sending him packing back to Cheyenne without her.

Logan grabbed a wrench from the counter, lowered to his knees and stuck his head into the cabinet beneath the sink. Hannah leaned back against the counter to watch, unable to suppress a laugh over the string of oaths coming out of the lawyer’s mouth.

“Sorry,” he muttered without looking back. “I need to tighten a fitting and it’s not cooperating.”

“Is that the reason for the leak?”

“Yeah. It’s a little corroded and probably should be replaced eventually. But I think I can get it to hold.”

At least that would save her an after-business-hours service call. “That’s a relief.”

“Don’t be relieved until I say it’s repaired.”

A few minutes passed, filled with a little more cursing and the occasional groan, until Logan finally emerged from beneath the cabinet and turned on the sink. Seemingly satisfied, he set the wrench aside and sent Hannah another devastating smile. “All done for the time being. Again, it needs to be replaced. Actually, all the pipes should be replaced.”

Hannah sighed. “So I’ve been told. The house was built over forty years ago and it’s systematically falling apart. I just paid for a new furnace. That pretty much ate up my reserves and blew my budget.”

He wiped his hands on the towel beside the sink. “If you claim the inheritance, you’d never have to worry about a tight budget.”

She couldn’t deny the concept appealed to her greatly, but the cost to her principles was simply too high. “As I’ve said, I have no intention of taking my share.” Even if J. D. Lassiter did owe her that much. But money could never make up for the years she’d spent in a constant state of wondering where she had come from.

Logan leaned back against the counter opposite Hannah. “And what are your intentions when it comes to my invitation?”

“I just don’t see the wisdom in running off to Cheyenne on what will probably be a wild-goose chase.”

“But it might not be at all. And you would also have the opportunity to meet some of the Lassiters, in case you decide you’d like to connect with your relatives since you wouldn’t be bound by the nondisclosure.”

“I’m not interested in connecting with the Lassiters.”

He studied her for a few moments, questions in his eyes. “Aside from your in-laws, do you have any family?”

Hannah shook her head. “No. I’m an only child and so was my mother. My grandparents have been gone for many years.”

“Then wouldn’t it be good to get to know the family you never knew existed?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I’ve gone all these years without knowing, so I’m sure I’ll survive if I never meet them.”

“What about your daughter? Don’t you think she deserves to know she has another family?”

The sound of rapid footsteps signaled the arrival of said daughter. Hannah’s attention turned to her right to see the feisty five-year-old twirling through the dining area wearing a pink boa and matching tutu that covered her aqua shirt and shorts, with a fake diamond tiara planted atop her head. She waved around the star wand that she gripped in her fist and shouted, “I’m queen of the frog fairies!”

Cassie stopped turning circles when she spotted the strange man in the kitchen, yet she didn’t stop her forward progress. Instead, she charged up to Logan, where she paused to give him a partially toothless grin. “Are you a frog or a prince?”

Possibly a toad in prince clothing, Hannah decided, but that remained to be seen. “This is Mr. Whittaker, Cassie, and he’s a lawyer. Do you know what that is, sweetie?”

Her daughter glanced back and rolled her eyes. “I’m not a baby, Mama. I’m almost six and I watch the law shows on TV with Shelly. That’s how I learned about lawyers. They look mad all the time and yell ‘I object.’”

Hannah made a mental note to have a long talk with the sitter about appropriate television programs for a kindergartner. When Cassie began twirling again, she caught her daughter by the shoulders and turned her to face Logan. “What do you say to Mr. Whittaker?”

Cassie curtsied and grinned. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Whittaker.”

Logan attempted a smile but it didn’t make its way to his eyes. In fact, he almost looked sad. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Your Highness.”

Being addressed as royalty seemed to please Cassie greatly. “Do you have a little girl?”

His gaze wandered away for a moment before he returned it to Cassie. “No, I don’t.”

“A little boy?” Cassie topped off the comment with a sour look.

“Nope. No kids.”

Hannah sensed Logan’s discomfort and chalked it up to someone who hadn’t been around children, and maybe didn’t care to be around them. “Now that the introductions are over, go pick up your toys, Cassandra Jane, and start deciding what you’ll be wearing to school on Monday since that takes you at least two days.”

That statement earned a frown from her daughter. “Can I just wear this?”

“I think you should save that outfit for playtime. Now scoot.”

Cassie backed toward the dining room, keeping her smile trained on Logan. “I think you’re a prince,” she said, then turned and sprinted away.

Once her daughter had vacated the premises, Hannah returned her attention to Logan. “I’m sorry. She’s really into fairy tales these days, and she doesn’t seem to know a stranger. Frankly, that worries me sometimes. I’m afraid someday she’ll encounter someone with questionable intentions. I’ve cautioned her time and again, but I’m not sure she understands the risk in that behavior.”

“I understand why that would worry you,” he said. “But I guess you have to trust that she’ll remember your warnings if the situation presents itself.”

Hannah sighed. “I hope so. She’s everything to me and sometimes I’d like to keep her locked in her room until she’s eighteen.”

He grinned. “Encased in bubble wrap, right?”

She was pleasantly surprised he remembered that from the night before. “Bubble wrap with rhinestones. Now what were you saying before we were interrupted by the queen?”

“Mama! Where’s my purple shorts?”

Hannah gritted her teeth and spoke through them. “Just a minute, Cassie.”

“Look, maybe this isn’t a good time to discuss this....” Logan said.

She was beginning to wonder that same thing. “You’re probably right. And it’s probably best if I say thanks, but no thanks, to your proposal, although I sincerely appreciate your offer.”

When Logan’s phone beeped, he took the cell out of his back pocket and swiped the screen. “The driver’s here.”

“Then I guess you better go.” She sounded disappointed, even to her own ears.

He pocketed his wallet then unrolled his sleeves. “Do you have a pen and paper handy so I can give you my info?”

Hannah withdrew a pencil from the tin container on the counter and tore a piece of paper from the nearby notepad. “Here you go, but don’t forget, I already have your card.”

He turned his back and began jotting something down. “Yeah, but you don’t have my home address.”

She swallowed hard. “Why would I need that?”

He faced her again, caught her hand and placed the card in her palm. “In case you change your mind and decide to spend a few days as my guest in Cheyenne.”

Oh, how tempting that would be. But... “I would have to ask my friend Gina if Cassie could stay with her. And I’d have to suspend my job search, even though that’s not going anywhere right now.” Funny, she sounded as if she was actually considering it.

He took a brief look around before he leaned over and brushed a kiss across her lips. “If you do decide to come, don’t worry about calling. Just surprise me and show up.”

With that, he strode through the living room and out the door, leaving Hannah standing in the kitchen in a semi-stupor until reality finally set in. Then she snatched up the cordless phone and pounded out a number on her way to the bedroom, where she closed the door. As soon as she heard the familiar hello, she said the only thing she could think to say.