Читать книгу Hired: Cinderella Chef - Myrna Mackenzie - Страница 8

CHAPTER FOUR

TWO HOURS LATER, Darcy blew out a long breath. She had made it through the evening. Barely. Every time she’d entered the room, she had had to decide where to look. Those two gorgeous little boys were at one end of the table. Just one glance had nearly made her heart break and made her wonder…would her child have had those chubby little elbows, those huge, innocent eyes? The pain she thought she’d conquered had hit her like a sledgehammer, dredging up emotions she’d learned to suppress.

Darcy only hoped her hastily pasted-on smile had hidden her distress. Her inability to face children was not something she wanted to discuss.

After that, she had avoided looking toward the boys and had concentrated instead on doing her job and on the adults. Whenever she’d entered the room, Patrick’s sisters had seemed to be talking about women. Specifically, Patrick and women. More specifically, Patrick and Angelise Marsdon. Apparently the lovely Angelise was quite a catch. And no question about it, Patrick was…he was…

An image of smoldering green eyes and dark hair assailed her. Sudden, unexpected heat suffused Darcy’s body, and as if her physical reaction was like some sort of magic beacon, she heard Patrick’s telltale masculine steps nearing the kitchen. Caught off guard, she felt the plate she’d been holding slide from her hands, and she had to practically throw herself from her chair to catch it before it hit the floor.

“Darn it!” she said, hugging the expensive piece of china to her chest.

“Are you all right?” Patrick’s deep voice was laced with concern as he came through the doorway. Darcy braced herself for the physical reaction she felt whenever he was near. Not a surprise. Probably every woman on earth had that same reaction. It was meaningless, she reminded herself as she nodded at him.

“I’m fine. I just nearly broke a plate that probably cost more than a Mercedes.”

He frowned.

“It’s all right, though,” she said, holding out the plate to show him.

“I don’t care about the plate,” he told her. “That’s not what’s worrying me.” But obviously something was.

Patrick was angry. At his sisters but also at himself. It had been obvious all through dinner that Cara and Amy and Lane had an agenda where Darcy was concerned. Angelise’s name had been mentioned several time in Darcy’s presence, and while the food had been melt-in-your-mouth perfect, his sisters had offered only the most rudimentary of compliments and they had maintained a distant air.

“I’m sorry,” he told Darcy when everyone had gone home. “They’re grown up and yet despite two of them being married and mothers, they’re still young in too many ways. I’m sure I made some mistakes and indulged them too much to make up for their lack of real parents, but their manners are usually much better than this. I’ll talk to them.”

Darcy shrugged. “What did you expect them to do? Faint over my apple tart?”

“A few oohs and ahs wouldn’t have been misplaced. It was the stuff men have killed for, and that cinnamon scent wafting off of it…” He groaned.

Darcy’s eyes opened wide as if she was startled, as if he had done something sexual. Well, maybe he had. There was something very sensual about a woman who smelled like cinnamon and vanilla and could create masterpieces with those talented hands of hers.

Abruptly Patrick shut down those thoughts. What in hell was he doing? Darcy was his employee. As such, there were barriers he wouldn’t cross.

“Your sisters were perfectly polite. They said the food was very good.”

They had, but these were the three sisters who had been born speaking in superlatives. Something was amiss. He had the feeling he knew what it was. Darcy was prettier and more talented than any of his other cooks had been.

“My sisters have decided they’re going to choose a wife for me, and you’re an attractive woman. I think they see you as a potential wrench in their plans.”

And that blush did amazing things to her skin. Dammit, he had to stop thinking like that. Where were his principles and his self-control?

“They were disappointed that Ms. Marsdon wasn’t invited,” she said.

“I know. Angelise tops their list. They’ve been trying to match me up with her for years.”

“Are you going to allow yourself to be matched?”

He raised a brow.

“Sorry,” she said, looking sheepish. “Cop training. Be direct, get to the point. Wade in and ask the tough questions.”

“Do you miss it?” he asked, then shook his head. “No, don’t answer that. None of my business.”

She laughed. “I just asked you if you were going to get engaged to a woman I’ve never met. You’re my boss and I’m asking you personal questions. And you’re apologizing to me for being nosy?”

“All right. I’ll be nosy. Do you?”

She looked him straight in the eye. “I wanted it very badly. I was good at it. It meant getting respect. I was going to do something important. I was going to save the world. But that’s all done now.”

“Don’t make the mistake of thinking that what you do now isn’t important.”

“I cook.”

“You feed people, you nourish them.”

“Oh, you’re good. No wonder your sisters are worried that every woman you hire is going to fall in love with you.”

He gave her a look, tried to think of what to say, tried not to want her to be a little bit interested in him so that he could get closer to her so he could taste that sassy mouth.

No.

Had he thought that or had she said it?

“No, don’t worry. I’m not going to fall in love with you,” she said. “When I had my accident I was engaged to be married.”

She hesitated.

“I see,” Patrick said. Or at least he was beginning to. Who was that guy, he wondered? What kind of an obtuse idiot had he been?

“This isn’t something I talk about,” she said, her voice dropping to a mere whisper.

“You shouldn’t have to. Your privacy is sacrosanct, Darcy. I promise you that. I won’t ask.”

She looked up and stared directly into his eyes. “If this is going to cause your sisters even one moment of concern, that can’t be good for anyone. I don’t want there to be strife between you and your sisters or concern about my role here, so they—you—need to know that I’m not some starry-eyed romantic looking for love. After my accident, my fiancé…well, suffice it to say that I’m not stupid enough to start down that road again.” Her body was rigid. Her pretty brown eyes were troubled, and it was obvious how uncomfortable she was discussing this, but she had done it to reassure him.

Patrick had to work hard to control his anger. “It sounds as if your fiancé was the stupid one. Some men don’t deserve what they’re given.”

She sat stone-still for several seconds. Then she sucked in a long, visible breath. “So, are you going to marry Angelise Marsdon?” she asked, catching Patrick off guard. Clearly she wanted to change the subject. Only a total jerk wouldn’t take the hint.

“I don’t know. Maybe. Eventually. Now that the girls are grown I’ll eventually marry someone and Angelise and I have been friends for a long time. We grew up in the same world. We have similar interests.”