Читать книгу Twin Ties, Twin Joys: The Boss's Double Trouble Twins / Twins for a Christmas Bride / Baby Twins: Parents Needed - Raye Morgan - Страница 14

THE funny thing was, despite everything, Mitch was getting more work done here than he had at the office. He could hear Darcy in the other room, talking to her babies, doing housework, playing a CD and singing in that great bluesy voice for the children. It was … sort of nice. Something about being this close to Darcy seemed to put his mind at rest in a strange way.

But maybe he was making too much of it. Probably it was just that he no longer had to waste time wondering how he was going to get her back at work. Now he’d taken work to her. So that problem was solved.

He worked through the afternoon. Darcy stopped by while the babies were down for a nap. He looked up to see her standing behind the French doors and he motioned for her to come on in.

“How’s it coming?” she asked him. She looked a bit edgy, as though she couldn’t get used to his being here in her house. That seemed so different from the reaction he was having, he had to smile, but it did make him a little sad. If only she could accept his good intentions, things would go more smoothly.

“Great. I’m going gangbusters here. But I could use a little feedback from you.”

She hesitated. “All right,” she conceded, dropping into a chair across the desk from him. He got her to help composing a letter, then made her run through some options on a real estate campaign he’d been asked to give some input on. She responded willingly enough, then looked at all his equipment in wonder.

“How did you get all this stuff in here so quickly?” she asked him.

He smiled. “I hire good people. That’s why I need you.”

She made a face at him. “Too much flattery and I’ll stop believing it,” she warned.

He laughed. “That’s what I like about you, Darcy. You’re about the most honest person I know.”

A small smile trembled on her lips. “So I’ve got you fooled, at least,” she murmured.

He grinned, leaning forward. “Listen, I want to get started on the Heartland submission. You know the right people. You know what has to be done to win the competition for the job. I’d like you to start working up an outline of our game plan.”

Her gaze was hooded and it was a moment before she answered him. “What makes you so sure I want you to win?” she asked.

That set him back on his heels. It had never occurred to him that she wouldn’t be in his corner. He frowned, studying her face.

“Why wouldn’t you want me to win?”

She licked her lips. “This development is going to take years. You don’t plan to be here that long.”

He nodded slowly. She had him there. “You’re right. I don’t.”

A spark of something that looked very much like outrage flashed in her eyes. “Then why on earth are you so intent on winning it?”

He drew in a deep breath. He couldn’t tell her that. He couldn’t even articulate his reasons in words to himself. He knew the feelings involved. Oh brother, did he ever know them. But that wasn’t something he could communicate to her. He wouldn’t know where to begin.

He knew it had something to do with proving himself to his father. And it had a lot to do with wanting to make sure Ned Varner didn’t get the contract. But there was more there. Maybe someday he’d be able to articulate it.

“My reasons don’t matter,” he said at last, trying to sound crisp and logical. “What I want to do is prove I can do it if I put my mind to it.”

“And then you’ll walk off and leave the rest of us to pick up the pieces?”

“No.” He frowned, realizing she was dealing with much more than what she was actually expressing in words. There was too much emotion in her voice for this just to be about the Heartland Project. “I’ll set up a team and give it a vision. I would never abandon a project like that. The groundwork will be laid. I’ll do it right.”

There were bright red spots on her cheeks. She rose stiffly. “Talk to me again when you’re serious,” she said.

“I’m very serious,” he responded. But she walked away.

He frowned, somewhat baffled by her behavior. She was upset and he wasn’t completely sure why. Oh, he had some idea that it had something to do with him and her lack of faith in his staying power. But that fear wasn’t based on anything real. She would see that soon, and her misgivings would pass. He really did need her for this project.

Pushing that concern away, he went back to work on some other things he’d been assigned, and a few items he’d taken up on his own. After all, if he was to make an impression in this job, he had to go way beyond the bottom line expectations. Way beyond. Otherwise, what was he here for?

An hour later he was agonizing over a flow chart when he felt something. The hair prickled on the back of his neck. He definitely had the sense of being watched. Maybe Darcy had undergone a change of heart and was hesitating just outside the room.

Turning quickly, he looked up at the wide French doors, expecting to see her there. Instead he found two sets of blue eyes gazing down at him, plus the dark brown eyes of the dog.

“Hi guys,” he said, waving at them.

The only one who responded was the dog, who wagged his tail enthusiastically. The boys didn’t move a muscle. He stopped waving. Par for the course. Dogs always did like him. He seemed to be striking out with little boys however.

Suddenly Darcy appeared. He stopped dead and stared at her. She was wearing tight blue jeans and a black V-neck shirt that plunged to reveal a lot of nice cleavage. Her hair was loose and flying about her face. She looked deliciously sexy. Staring at her, he felt an odd quivering inside. As though she’d read his mind, she threw him a glance so piercing, it might have turned a lesser man to stone. Then she herded the boys and dog away from the window. He watched for a few more minutes, but only the dog came back.

Suddenly he felt a little lonely. It was almost time to call it a day. He contemplated throwing in the towel for now and going in to the main house to join them, but then he remembered that he hadn’t been invited to do that. It might be prudent to wait until he was asked. So he got back to work. He had to do something to pass the time, after all.

Half an hour later he looked up and the boys were at the door again. That made him smile, even though their faces were still stuck on deadpan. They were obviously checking him out. And good for them. He had to admit, they were a pair of darn fine-looking kids—even if he did say so himself.

“Good genes,” he muttered to himself proudly. He waved at them. They stared. He sighed.

“Where’s the dog?” he called to them.

But they didn’t answer. And when he looked up again, they were gone.

It was almost an hour later when Darcy came to ask him if he would like to join her for something to eat.

“I’ve put the boys to bed,” she told him. “So they won’t bother you.”

“They don’t bother me.” He gazed at her steadily. “Darcy, I like kids. Don’t pretend I’m a monster.”

She finally smiled. “Good,” she said. “Now come on before the stroganoff gets cold.”

He loved stroganoff. She’d set places at the kitchen table. Red napkins. Blue plates. He was gratified when she brought out a bottle of white wine and poured two glasses. At least she was going to let this seem like a real meal and not a grudge feeding of necessity. She was still wearing the tight pants and the low-cut shirt and he was feeling definitely warm and toasty all around. He raised his glass.

“To women who brighten our lives,” he said.

“To men who bully and manipulate,” she countered, clinking before he had a chance to draw away.

“That was sneaky,” he protested, but he didn’t pursue it. Things seemed to be going well right now. No reason to rock the boat.

The food was great, from the creamy stroganoff on pasta to the leafy green salad and the cherry cobbler for dessert. They chatted inconsequentially, falling back into the pattern of banter threaded through more serious conversation they had developed in Paris. By the end of the meal, Darcy was laughing and looking as relaxed and happy as he’d ever seen her. And he was burning to take her in his arms.

But he couldn’t do that. Not only would it complicate matters, it would probably result in her kicking him out on his ear, and he didn’t relish sleeping in his car tonight.

He stayed in the kitchen and helped her with the dishes and they talked about ACW, and then about what he’d been doing all these years, staying so far away from Texas.

“Tell me about your work overseas these last few years,” she said, handing him a stack of plates to put away in an upper cabinet.

“What about it?” He reached high and confidently slid the plates into place for her.

She leaned against the counter, watching him. “What is it that draws you so strongly to it? How did you get this way?”

He put away his drying towel, then leaned against the counter facing her. “You know that I joined the Army after my freshman year of college,” he said.

She frowned. “I thought you had a degree.”

“I got that later with the Army’s help,” he said. “I was in Special Forces for eight years. By then I was ready for a change, so I got out and joined a firm that does security work all over the world.”

She nodded. “Okay, I knew that. My impression is that you were doing pretty much the same thing you’d done in the Army, only getting paid better.”

He grinned. “That was just about it.”

“So would you call what you do being a mercenary?” she asked tentatively, as though she was afraid he might take offense at the term. And in truth, he did.

“A mercenary?” he repeated, distorting the word a bit. “No. Being a mercenary has ugly connotations, like being a gun for hire. That isn’t what we do at all. We’re more like …” He thought for a moment, then went on. “Well, like a civilian rescue service. In many countries there is a huge gulf between the very rich and the rest of the population. There are all kinds of outlaws who think the rich are like fat, vulnerable piggy banks, and kidnapping is the way to open the vaults. It’s practically a major industry in some countries. Family members are always being kidnapped and held for ransom.” He gave her his quirky smile. “We specialize in getting them back.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Without paying the ransom, if possible.” “Oh.”

“That’s the major part of our mandate. We also do other things. We find lost cargo shipments. Get political refugees out of dangerous situations. Things like that.”

“I see,” she said, her gaze sliding over the open neck of his shirt, then turning back up to meet his eyes. “I didn’t really understand that. I have to tell you, that makes me feel a little better about it.”

He moved closer, taking in the scent of her hair. “About what kind of work I do?”

“Yes. I was sort of stuck on the outlaw element. Now I see that was wrong and that you could characterize it as humanitarian.”

He touched her cheek, brushing off a crumb that had landed there. Her skin was luminous. She was so beautiful, it made his heart feel full of wonder. “You prefer to think of me as one of the good guys, huh?” he said huskily, leaning closer still. “Of course.”

She looked down but she didn’t move away. He could see the pulse throbbing at the base of her throat. She wanted him to kiss her. There was no way he was going to be able to resist when it was so obvious she wanted his touch as much as he wanted hers.

“Darcy.” “Yes?”

She looked up. He dropped a soft kiss on her lips, light as a feather, then drew back.

“You’d better go,” she whispered, her eyes dark as shadows.

He nodded. “I know,” he said.

But he didn’t go. He kissed her instead. He took her into his arms, sliding his body against hers. She sighed and when his mouth covered hers, her tongue was there to meet his. She felt hot and smooth and as the kiss deepened, she arched her body into his, pressing hard with her breasts, as though she needed to feel his strength against her most sensitive places. Rational thought slipped away and all he could think of was heat and moisture and his mouth on her nipples. When she cried out, at first he was sure she was giving him an invitation, but pretty quickly, even his libido-drugged mind understood she was trying to get him to stop.

They pulled apart, panting and still clinging, but no longer pressed so tightly together. Darcy was the first to manage a coherent sentence.

“Mitch, this is exactly why you shouldn’t be here,” she said breathlessly.

“I know.” He kissed the tender area in front of her ear.

“Then what are you doing?” she cried, trying ineffectually to pull away.

He snuggled into the curve of her neck. “I think we should explore all the possibilities so we know what to guard against,” he murmured.

She laughed softly, but that didn’t change anything. Taking a deep breath, she forced him away.