Читать книгу Millionaire Mavericks: The Oilman’s Baby Bargain - Day Leclaire, Michelle Celmer - Страница 13

The trip home was the longest and most miserable in Lexi’s life. It was raining as they boarded the ferry to the mainland and the ride was a choppy one, launching her already questionable stomach into turmoil. The first leg of their flight was delayed due to weather and they missed their connecting flight. They were stuck in the London airport for six hours waiting for the next available departure, and when they finally took off for Texas, the flight was so turbulent she spent most of it in the bathroom in a scene straight out of The Exorcist.

The entire time, Mitch didn’t say a single word to her.

When they reached Houston, she was so relieved she felt like dropping to her knees and kissing the ground. She just wanted to go home and crawl into her own bed. But as they were climbing into the limo, Mitch reminded her that all of her things had been moved into his townhouse and that was her home now. On the bright side, he didn’t seem any happier about it than she was. Her misery wasn’t as hard to swallow when she knew he was right there with her.

Located on a golf course in what was by far the most affluent neighborhood in Maverick County, Mitch’s townhouse was anything but small. The front door opened into a foyer and spacious living area. It smelled of furniture polish and faintly of Mitch’s aftershave. The decor, to her surprise, was very homey and welcoming. Not what she would expect from a house occupied exclusively by a man.

There was a formal dining room and enormous kitchen with every modern device known to man. On the countertop sat a huge bouquet of flowers, two champagne glasses and a bottle of sparkling fruit juice chilling on ice. Beside it was a note penned in Tara’s handwriting that read, Congratulations and welcome home!

At Mitch’s questioning look, she said, “It’s from Tara, my assistant.”

He gestured to the nonalcoholic drink. “I guess it’s safe to say she knows you’re pregnant.”

“She’s my best friend. I tell her everything.” Well, almost everything.

“That’s sad,” he said.

“What? That I tell her everything?”

“No, that you have to pay someone to be your best friend.”

How did he always manage to hit the rawest nerve? But she refused to let him know that he’d hurt her feelings. She lifted her nose at him and said, “That’s a little hypocritical coming from a man who had to buy his wife.”

She braced herself for a sarcastic comeback, but instead, the hint of a smile tipped up the corner of his mouth, catching her off guard.

“Your room is on the second floor,” he said. He backtracked through the house to where he left her bag by the stairs. He grabbed it and started up, and she followed him.

“Dry cleaning is picked up and dropped off Mondays and Thursdays. It will be your responsibility to see that it’s left on the porch.”

“Fine.”

“I have a cleaning service in Monday, Wednesday and Friday.”

“What about a cook?”

“I’m not home enough to warrant it. I usually eat out or order in. But if you want to hire someone, I won’t object. And of course when we move, we’ll need a full-time staff.” He led her to the first room on the left. As far as she could see, there were three other bedrooms.

It was a typical spare bedroom, with genderneutral furnishings and decor, but Tara had placed several of her things from her bedroom at her father’s estate around the room. Photos and keepsakes mostly, as well as her books.

She peered into the walk-in closet and saw that Tara had also arranged all of her clothes and shoes, and in the bathroom she found her makeup and toiletries.

Mitch stood in the doorway watching her. “Is it satisfactory?”

It was more than adequate, but she said, “I suppose, if this is the best you can do.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Well, the master suite is larger, but then, you would have to share it with me.”

Like that would ever happen. “Where is your room?”

“Why? Are you planning another midnight visit?”

“Actually, I need to know so I can avoid it.”

He flashed another wry grin. “End of the hall on the right. The third floor is the den and my office. I would appreciate it if you didn’t go up there.”

Which meant that would be the first place she investigated.

“Just up the road is the community center. There’s an exercise room and tennis courts. There’s also a pool, although I’ll warn you that bathing suits are not optional. Unless you want to get yourself arrested.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll only walk around naked inside the house.”

He didn’t look as though he believed her, which would make actually doing it all the more fun.

“I’ll need a space for Tara to work.”

“She can have the room across the hall. I’ll call my real estate agent so we can start house hunting.”

She still didn’t see the need for anything bigger than this, but he was the one paying the bills, so who was she to argue? “I’d like to unpack and change, and I have a few phone calls to make,” she told him.

“Okay,” he said, but he didn’t move. At her questioning look he added, “Oh, did you want me to leave?”

“Please.”

“I should probably check in with my girlfriend, anyway. Let her know I arrived home safely.”

She wondered if he really did have a girlfriend, then figured he probably just said he did to annoy her. If he cheated on her and her father found out, Mitch could kiss his support goodbye. She smiled sweetly and said, “You mean the girlfriend who needs occasional reinflation?”

He smirked. “I’ll be unpacking if you need me,” he said as he left, closing the door behind him.

She sat on the bed and looked around. She would have to thank Tara for setting up her room. It made her feel a lot less like an interloper.

She turned on her cell phone and found she had half a dozen messages from her father and two from Tara. Since she wasn’t quite ready to face her father yet, she called Tara first. They hadn’t spoken since before the kitchen disaster—she’d been too embarrassed to admit how she had botched Tara’s seemingly simple instructions.

She dialed and Tara answered on the first ring. “Welcome home! Did you see your surprise?”

“I did, thanks. And thank you for arranging all of my personal things.”

“I’d love to take credit, but that was your husband’s idea.”

It was weird enough when she thought of Mitch as her husband, but to hear someone else say it felt like the final nail in her coffin. “That must have been before he decided he hates my guts.”

“Oh, my gosh! What happened? I thought things were going really well.”

“They were. He didn’t even seem to care that I completely botched breakfast, flooded the kitchen, and nearly burned the house down making dinner. And the sex? Amazing. Everything was great, right up until the second I told him I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, no, Lex. Was he really that upset?”

“I don’t think it was the baby so much as the fact that he thinks it’s Lance’s.”

“He what!?” she shrieked, obviously outraged. “You told him the truth, right?”

“There didn’t seem to be much point. I doubt he would have believed me. He apparently thinks he knows the kind of person I am. I figure, why shatter his illusion?”

“Oh, Lex, I’m so sorry.”

“I guess the worst part was that I thought for the first time in my life, someone really saw me, you know? I thought he cared.” Lexi was mortified to realize that she was welling up. Enough of this. She had to pull herself together.

“Maybe if you told him the truth—”

“There’s no point now. I can never trust him again.”

“You’re going to have to tell him eventually.”

Yes, but for now, she would make him suffer a bit. Make him as miserable as she was. “Could we talk about something else?”

“Sure, Lex,” she said, sounding hurt. Why did it feel as though whatever Lexi said or did, it was never right?

They talked briefly about setting up a temporary office for Tara in the townhouse, and then she called her father.

In lieu of hello, he snapped, “Why didn’t you call? You should have been home hours ago.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to say, “Hi, Dad, nice to talk to you, too.” But she had never had the courage to speak to him that way. One wrong move and he might shut her out completely. Stop calling altogether.

“Our flight was delayed due to bad weather,” she said. “We just got home.”

“Well, I was concerned.”

Just not concerned enough about her to come to her wedding, or call her while she was in Greece.

“Would a call have been too much trouble?” he asked sharply.

She could have asked him the same thing, but of course she didn’t. “No, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

That took the edge off his tone. “How was your vacation?”

“Greece was wonderful.” It was the company she could do without. Although she couldn’t deny that they’d had several very good days.

“You, Mitch and I will be meeting for dinner tomorrow evening at the Cattleman’s Club,” he said. Demanded, really.

“I’ll have to ask Mitch if he’s available.”

“If he wants my support, he will be. Seven o’clock. Don’t be late. I’m flying in from D.C.”

He was flying all that way just to have dinner? She wondered what she and Mitch had done to deserve that. “We’ll be there.”

They disconnected and she set her phone down. She should probably give Mitch the good news.

She changed into a T-shirt and cotton capri pants, then went looking for Mitch. She started to walk toward his bedroom, then changed her mind and decided this would be the perfect time to snoop upstairs. She tiptoed quietly so he wouldn’t hear her, and what she saw as she reached the top took her breath away. The entire floor was one large, open room. At one end was Mitch’s office, which consisted of a slightly cluttered desk, file cabinet and bookshelves lining one wall. Across the room was a media center with a huge flat-screen television and a whole cabinet full of electronic equipment. Not to mention a wet bar. Everything was dark polished wood with comfortable-looking chocolate-brown leather furniture. One hundred percent male.

She crossed to his office area, running her fingers across the back of his chair, wondering if she should take a peek inside his desk. Just to annoy him, of course.

“I should have known I would find you up here.”

She turned to find Mitch standing at the top of the stairs, arms folded over his chest.

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t come up here.”

She shrugged. “I believe you issued an order. I never agreed to it. This is nice, though. Very macho.”

“Is there a particular reason you’re up here?”

To annoy you. “I was looking for you.”

“Really? Because I told you I would be in my room, unpacking.”

“I must have forgotten.”

“What did you want?”

“To warn you that my father has invited us to dinner at the Cattleman’s Club tomorrow night at seven.”

“I’ll have to check my schedule.”

“That’s what I told him. He said that if you want his support, you’ll be there.”

“Well, then, I guess I’ll be there.”

“That’s what I told him.”

“My brother left me a message. He said that Kate would like you to join her for a welcome-to-the-family lunch on Thursday.”

“Family?”

“She is your sister-in-law.”

Oddly enough, Lexi hadn’t even thought about that.

She had a family now—someone other than her father, that is. But she couldn’t help wondering if it would be weird going out to lunch with the woman who had stolen her fiancé. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.”

His expression darkened. “You think you’re better than her?”

“Of course not! Kate seems wonderful. I just thought it might be awkward.”

“Fine, I’ll tell Lance you don’t want to go.”

“I didn’t say that. I’ll go, okay?”

He shrugged, as though it didn’t matter either way to him, yet she had the distinct feeling it did. “She said to meet her at the Cattleman’s Club café at one.”

She nodded, wondering how she was going to get there. If she asked Mitch to send a car for her, he would probably just accuse her of being spoiled. Unfortunately, her father had never allowed her to learn how to drive. Having his driver take her everywhere was just another way for him to keep track of her every move. Maybe Tara could drive her. And maybe, if she asked Tara nicely enough, she might teach Lexi to drive. She was twenty-four years old. It was high time she began asserting her independence.

“I talked to the real estate agent. We have a 10:00 a.m. appointment tomorrow. He said he has several properties to show us.”

“That was quick.”

“I called him last week and told him we’d be looking. The state of the economy being what it is, he said if we decide to buy, there’s a huge selection right now. Building new would take considerably longer.”

She shrugged. “Whatever you want. As long as I’m free by four.”

“Why?”

“I have an appointment with my gynecologist.”

His expression darkened. “Speaking of that, I think it would be best if we kept the…situation to ourselves.”

She was tempted to tell him that the situation had fingers and toes and a beating heart, but she didn’t see the point. He obviously wasn’t ready to acknowledge the life growing inside of her. “Fine.”

“Also, I think it would be best if people are led to believe that we’re happy.”

She pursed her lips. “Then maybe we should forget those cooking lessons and get me some acting lessons, instead.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit. In Greece you had me snowed.”

That’s because I wasn’t acting, you moron, she wanted to shout. But what good would it do? His mind was made up about her and she would never forgive him for it, so they were more or less at an impasse.

“Define happy,” she said.

“I think we should act like newlyweds, show each other affection.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “How much affection?”

“I’m not suggesting we publicly maul each other. I’m talking about little things like holding hands, and maybe occasionally smiling at each other.”

“But no kissing,” she clarified. Not that she didn’t enjoy kissing him. Quite the opposite. Every time his lips touched hers she got so hot her brain shortcircuited. If that happened she might do something stupid, like sleep with him again. And because he did amazing things to her body, she knew once wouldn’t be enough. If she slept with him too many times, she might begin to forget how awful he was.

“No kissing,” he agreed.

Good.

So why did she feel disappointed that he hadn’t put up at least a tiny fuss?

His cell phone rang and he looked at the display. “It’s Lance. I have to take this.”

“I’ll be in the kitchen getting something to eat.”

She brushed past Mitch and headed downstairs, hearing him call after her, “The fire extinguisher is in the pantry.”

Smart-ass. She should burn the place down just to spite him.

“Welcome home,” Lance said when he answered. “Did you get my message?”

“Yeah. In fact, I just talked to Lexi. She’ll meet Kate for lunch.” He didn’t mention that Lexi hadn’t looked all that thrilled with the idea. Mitch knew that she and her father looked down on people of Kate’s past station in society.

“I’m glad,” Lance said. “Kate is pretty excited about having a sister-in-law.”

“Seriously?”

“The truth is, she credits Lexi for us finally getting together. If I hadn’t planned to marry Lexi, Kate probably never would have quit, and I would still be walking around with my head in the clouds, not realizing how important she is to me.”

That was an interesting way to look at it.

“Speaking of marriage,” Lance said, “how was the honeymoon?”

“It was okay,” Mitch told him, which wasn’t a total lie. It had gone pretty well, right up until the moment Lexi showed her true colors. Unfortunately, if Mitch was honest about how truly miserable he was, not only would Lance feel guilty as hell, he might want to know why. It would be best for everyone involved if even Lance believed Lexi and Mitch were happy.

“Just okay?” Lance hedged.

“Better than okay,” Mitch said. “I think this just might work out.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said, sounding relieved.

Mitch wasn’t yet sure how he planned to handle the news of Lexi’s pregnancy. Lance wasn’t stupid. He would do the math and realize when she’d conceived. Mitch would just have to admit to his brother that he and Lexi slept together in D.C. He could lie and say they were drunk, claim they had been so out of it they had forgotten to use protection. He just hoped Lance wasn’t too pissed at him, although Mitch wouldn’t blame him if he was.

But that could wait a while, at least another month or two, until Lexi started to show.

“Any news about the fire?” he asked his brother.

“Whoever set it knew what they were doing. Darius hasn’t been able to trace a thing.”

“What does he think about Montoya? Is he even capable of pulling something like that off?”

“If he is, we’ll find out.”

Mitch couldn’t help wondering if Lance was so determined to pin the fire on Alex Montoya that he would wrongly accuse an innocent man. “What if it wasn’t him?”

“He’s the only one with motive.”

“We don’t know that for sure, “Mitch countered.

“Hey, by the way,” Lance said, “Darius asked that we meet him at his office next Wednesday evening.”

“Did he say what for?”

“He said we had some business to discuss, but he wouldn’t say more than that.”

“Does it have something to do with the fire?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Sure, I’ll be there.” He was sure that by then he would need a night away from his wife—if they hadn’t already killed each other.