Читать книгу Strictly Temporary - Robyn Grady - Страница 9

Zack slanted his head closer to Trinity Matthews’s stunned violet-colored eyes and almost forgot that he’d been teasing. Making her pay.

She didn’t know him from a lump of wood. What a laugh that she should make assumptions based on the tripe gossipmongers served up—and how typical. After all, she was one of them—a reporter for some rag-or-other he’d never heard of before today. Most publications shared a common code, turning a castaway line or suggestive photo into a sensation that had nothing to do with the truth and everything to do with building numbers and keeping their parasitic jobs.

Still, he was a good sport. He wouldn’t hold any of that against Ms. Matthews, particularly when she was so darn cute all fired up, blushing and battling her conscience. Would she make a scene if he did the unimaginable and kissed her, or would she melt into his embrace and maybe make the front page herself?

Sorely tempted, his head dropped lower, but at the last moment, his trajectory veered and his attention fell again to the baby. He collected the carrier and headed for the hotel exit. A few seconds later, Trinity Matthews’s heels were clicking double-time behind him.

Outside, from a gray Colorado sky buttressed by mountains, the snow was falling faster. When they were all safely back in the cab, Zack called Child Services on his cell while the meter ticked and Trinity watched the baby. Finally he spoke with a woman who asked for his number and address then said a representative would get back to him as soon as possible. She also said it was her obligation to inform the police of all details, including his. Perfect. Saved him.

As he ended the call, in hushed tones, Trinity asked, “What’d they say?”

“They’ll get back to us.”

“When?”

“When they can.” Soon, he hoped. He slotted the cell away. “In the meantime, we’ll pick up some spare diapers and head over to Mrs. Dale’s.”

When the authorities took away the baby, he’d pay for Trinity’s return fare to the airport. With this good deed done and out of the way, he’d get to sipping that brandy before a toasty log fire. Zack was in half a mind to ask whether Trinity might like to join him, if only to see whether she’d leap at the chance to dress him down or betray her morality for curiosity and accept.

They stopped at a drugstore. The baby was still asleep when Zack returned to load the trunk with two bags of diapers, as well as wipes, additional formula, bottles and three small undershirts and one-piece outfits. As Zack well knew, in any venture, preparedness was the key. Besides, the pink suit had tiny ears on the hood like a cat or bear. Who could pass that up?

The baby was still pushing out pint-size z’s when half an hour later the cab swerved into his neighbors’ long driveway.

Dusk had fallen over the peaceful, largely unpopulated district, which was bordered by giant firs, their branches burdened with the weight of new snow. A lonely streetlamp cast an eerie glow over the wintery ground but no light shone from the Dales’ place. In fact, for the first time Zack could recall, that house appeared quite still.

Deserted.

Trinity was peering out the foggy window, too.

“No one’s home.” Studying the surrounding woods, she sat back and hugged herself. “We should have stayed at the hotel. Do you even get cell reception out this far?”

“If you’re heading back in, you’d want to be quick about it.” The driver upped the wiper speed and blades thrashed triple-time across the icy screen. “This is turning into a storm.”

Fingers threaded on his lap, Zack thought for a moment then gave the driver instructions. “Continue on, a hundred yards down on your right.”

“Hang on just a minute.” Trinity clutched her seat belt like it was the only parachute on a plane going down. “Did you hear what he said? This snow’s not letting up. If we’re going back into town, we need to go now.”

“The authorities have my details. They know where we’re headed. We’ll stay put until they get back to us.”

In the growing shadows, her eyes flashed and those kissable lips tightened. She shook her head. “We’re going back.”

“Not an option.”

“Why not?”

“You mean aside from being smart and staying out of this weather?”

He paused long enough to draw attention to wind gusting and whistling outside. When Mother Nature spoke, people did best to listen. Besides, he refused to set foot inside that hotel again until Dirkins had sufficient time to sweat over his offer. If he checked in tonight, the owner of that hotel would assume Zack had weakened and was prepared to sweeten the offer he’d made. That wasn’t the case, no matter how much Zack sympathized with Dirkins’s personal situation. A death in the family was never easy, particularly, he imagined, when it involved an only son.

The baby shifted. A tiny fist curled into the blanket. Zack held his breath while she yawned, stretched and squeaked at the same time a frown pinched her flawless brow.

He growled. That did it.

“My cabin’s a minute’s drive from here,” he said. “Don’t know about you, but I’d rather dance naked in that snow than be stuck in a cab when she wakes up crying.”

The baby squeaked again, louder this time. Then her nose wrinkled before she settled fitfully again. Trinity pressed her lips together for a considering moment before her hold on the seat belt eased and reluctantly fell away.

“All right. We’ll go to your place.”

Wasting no time, Zack tapped the driver’s shoulder and the cab pulled carefully out of the Dales’ snow-clogged driveway. After the baby was put down again later, before the authorities arrived, he and Ms. Matthews could take time to reflect on the decisions they’d made, perhaps while sitting in front of a crackling fire with that brandy that felt so close now, he could almost taste it.

Despite her stand, animal instinct said she was as attracted to him as he was to her. Could be interesting getting to know her a little better.

Gazing out the window, Zack slowly smiled.

Who was he kidding? Truth was that he’d like to get to know Ms. Matthews, and her attitude, a whole lot more.

At the same time the cab rolled away from Zack Harrison’s address, the full moon peeked out from beneath its heavy blanket of cloud. As a silvery glow illuminated the scene, Trinity could barely stop from gasping and rubbing to clear her eyes.

This was a cabin?

Zack, with the carrier and bags of baby supplies, was already striding through the drifts on his way to the covered entrance of the spectacular A-frame home. Flopping her coat’s hood over her head, Trinity gripped her case and hurried after him. He pushed back the large timber door, flicked on a light and she stepped through into central-heated heaven. Marveling over her new surroundings, she blindly set her case on the hardwood floor.

The lower story was huge and open plan, various details of which hinted at exceptional wealth as well as a rustic homey welcome. To the right, the kitchen area was elevated one step and dressed in soaring polished oak with shining granite trimmings. At the far end of the room, a state-of-the-art media section was laid out before sumptuous connected leather recliners. In the center of a massive slate wall, a significant stone fireplace begged to be lit and have marshmallows toasted over gentle flames. A hallway off the foyer would lead to bedrooms, Trinity decided. As she drew back her hood, her gaze climbed a loft staircase that led to a mezzanine floor encased by carved timber rails.

Zack’s husky words brushed her ear as he passed and explained, “The main bedroom.”

She quivered. Main bedroom. His bedroom. A whirlpool of images swam up in her mind, the most vivid: Zack Harrison relaxing back against a strong, wooden headboard, rumpled sheet draped over lean hips, hard broad chest shamelessly on display, his expression self-assured…roguish and hot.

Hauling herself back, Trinity caught her breath. She wasn’t here to fantasize about sleeping with a man who’d made sexual seduction his favorite personal pastime. Obviously she wasn’t the only female he affected this way. The media spotted a new besotted squeeze on his arm every other month. But dwelling on his charisma—on that blatant sex appeal—had no place here, particularly when she’d made a fool of herself earlier at the hotel. She’d practically dissolved when she’d thought he might kiss her. Her skin flashed hot just thinking how he must have laughed when, eyelids growing heavy, she’d visibly trembled.

But he wouldn’t catch her out again.

While Zack gently set down the carrier and supplies then maneuvered out of his overcoat, Trinity chased the butterflies from her stomach, slipped out of her coat as well then offered a neutral, totally honest statement.

“Your home is beautiful.”

“I don’t spend a lot of time here,” he said, peeling back the carrier’s light blanket, which had acted as a shield for the baby against the falling snow. “I hail from New York, like you. But you already know that.”

She ignored his mischievous, pointed look and continued to study the room. “So this is a getaway?”

“My dad used to spend all his time at the office. To make it up to us, we’d always pack up and head off to Colorado for a break during snow season.” He set his coat on the nearby rack, hung hers, too, then shucked out of his suit jacket before hooking that as well. “When I was older, I kept traveling out and found this area. We’ve got some amazing scenery. Nice people, too—the kind who are never too busy to nod and say hello when you pass on the street. I figured I might as well have a place on hand.”

“But you don’t have a vehicle in the garage?” Or there’d be no need for a cab.

“Engines like to be turned over regularly, so it’s easier to rent something. When I flew in this time, there’d been a mixup with the rental information. I don’t exactly fit inside a bubble car.” He gave his impressive shoulders an awkward roll to make his point then threw a glance toward the kitchen and collected the baby carrier again. “I’ll put on some coffee. We can get her bottle set up while it brews.”

Trinity knew she was stepping on dangerous ground but she couldn’t keep her gaze off the impressive ledge of his shoulders in that white business shirt as she followed him into a large kitchen. The way his well-spaced shoulder blades moved in tandem with his purposeful, measured stride was enough to make her fingers itch to reach out and touch. In these more intimate surroundings—now they were alone—Zack’s presence was a step away from spellbinding. Not that he’d need anyone to tell him that. She certainly didn’t need to dwell on it a moment more.

And yet, as he set the carrier gently down again, wrung loose his tie and studied the baby—brow lined and dark eyes concerned—Trinity was more aware than ever of her physical reaction to his air of authority. His aura of masculine supremacy. That awareness made her flush from head to foot and everywhere in between. The reports were all true.

Zack Harrison must be the sexiest man alive.

“Should we sterilize something?”

Trinity dragged her focus away from the sweep of his full bottom lip then registered and answered his question.

“Yes. Absolutely. A bottle.” Stepping forward, she crouched beside the carrier and examined the baby who, after earlier noises, appeared to have settled again. “I’ll find the directions for the formula.”

Carefully she slipped the bottle and formula canister out from where they rested at the foot of the carrier. Zack found a saucepan while she deciphered the formula’s directions…although her attention wasn’t entirely on the job.

Whistling a vaguely familiar tune while finding a coffeepot, Zack seemed at home here in this setting. And yet he spent most of his time in New York. Did he live in a Chelsea condo or a penthouse on Central Park West? Or was it the presidential suite of a family hotel? Hell, probably every Harrison came home to their very own multimillion-dollar penthouse.

“What’s it like?” she asked, setting the formula down.

His back to her, Zack collected mugs from an overhead cabinet. “What’s what like?”

“Owning all that real estate.” Pimping it out only to those who can afford the exorbitant rates.

“I don’t own Harrison Hotels exclusively.” He pulled one end of his tie. With a zipping sound, the expensive strip of blue silk slid out and dropped in an abstract coil on the counter. “It’s a family business.”

“So you work every day with your parents and siblings?”

She’d always wanted sisters—or rather ones who would stay in her life rather than being moved on to another foster home after they’d become close. After a while, she’d given up wishing and hoping.

For a time, in between “then” and “now,” she’d dreamed of having a family all her own, with a caring husband who would always stand by her, and at least one baby, but preferably two. She’d even picked out names. But over the years her plans had changed.

Zack was answering her question about siblings.

“We have our good days. We’re like-minded in many respects.” He found sugar then milk from a fridge that housed its own high-definition TV. “We’re different in other ways, though. How about you? Do you have family?”

A familiar jab poked her ribs. It was one thing to sometimes think about what she’d once hoped for more than anything in the world. For anyone to ask her outright about whether or not she had any kind of family was quite another.

Trinity focused back on the formula. “Oh, nothing like that,” she said in a remarkably even voice.

“Like what?”

“Like your family. Like…blood.”

Not much of an answer but normally she didn’t like to think about it let alone talk about her past. She definitely wasn’t out to garner anyone’s pity, particularly Zack-I-have-it-all-Harrison. Besides, the past was well behind her. What purpose would bringing it up here serve?

But then, peeling back the formula’s lid, her gaze wandered again to the baby. Her throat closed over and for the first time in a long while she rethought that stand. From as far back as she could recall she’d been a private person. But wasn’t this situation unique? No matter what she thought of his public image, Zack Harrison had given his time and opened up his house, not only to this baby but to her as well. Maybe this once she could share.

“Actually,” she said, her heart beginning to pound, “I was a ward of the state.”

She glanced over her shoulder. About to lift the coffeepot, Zack froze. His focus shifted to the carrier then skated over to her. His gaze penetrated hers so deeply she almost regretted opening her mouth. She wasn’t a freak, just one of many ex-foster kids.

“That’s why…” he began and she nodded.

“That’s one of the reasons why I couldn’t walk away.”

He exhaled a long breath then poured steaming coffee that smelled both bitter and comforting. When both mugs were full, he met her gaze again. The surprise was gone from his eyes, but she wasn’t much happier with the sympathy drawing on the corners of his mouth.

“Did you have a rough time?”

Her smile was thin. “Not everyone can land a Mrs. Dale.”

“But you made good. All these years later working for—”

His brows knitting, he crossed over and handed her a mug while she contained a grin. She’d gleaned from his polite but vacant look earlier in the cab that he’d never heard of the publication.

“I work for Story Magazine.”

“Ah, yes. Story.”

He took a long pull from his mug. She did the same, and almost sighed, the heat and flavor were so good. But while she concentrated on warming her palms, she felt his gaze tracing over the lines of her face.

“Ever interview a successful hotelier who rescues babies as a sideline?” he asked.

Meeting his midnight gaze, she cocked her head and pretended to be intrigued, which, in truth, she was. “Can’t say I have.”

“If you play your cards right, I could be available for questions later.”

“I have a question for you now.”

“I’m all ears.”

She had the darnedest urge to say, When you came so close in that hotel foyer earlier, was it because you really wanted to kiss me or because you wanted to put me in my place?

Of course, she swallowed the urge, retacked her neutral smile and asked instead, “Can I have some sugar?”

He slowly smiled. “You can have anything you want.”

He brought over the sugar bowl. She heaped in a good spoonful and took her time stirring. Leaning around her, he set the sugar bowl on the counter. His arm brushed hers as he tipped back but, although her stomach jumped, she gave no outward sign of how high her pulse had skipped. Rather, she dropped her focus to the baby again, taking in the healthy glow, the plump pink cheeks.

Attention on the baby now, too, Zack asked, “How old do you reckon she’d be?”

“Maybe three months. She looks well cared for.”

“It doesn’t make sense her being left alone like that. There has to be more to it.”

An idea struck and a chill crawled up her spine. “Maybe she was abducted.” It happened, and more than some people might think. Stories that made the news were only the tip of the iceberg. “Perhaps they’d planned a ransom and got cold feet at the last minute.”

His voice was low and patient.

“Is that what happened to you?”

How she found herself in foster care? She shook her head but didn’t feel a need to explain more. A man in Zack’s situation, obviously so involved with his own family and position, couldn’t possibly understand.

The baby gave a squeak. Then she squirmed and blinked open sleepy eyes. Both Zack and Trinity bent over the carrier while the baby yawned and tried to focus. Trinity’s entire body flooded with a warmth she hadn’t known existed—powerful yet soft and syrupy all at the same time.

“Her eyes are blue,” she whispered.

“Do you think she’s hungry?”

As if to answer, the baby let out a whimper, and another. When Zack hesitated, Trinity took control and folded back the blanket. By the time the harness was unclipped and the baby was out of the carrier, whimpers had grown to little sobs. Her heart tugging low in her chest, Trinity held the baby close. She was heavier than she expected but also easier to hold.

“Poor darling,” she murmured against the velvet of that tiny cheek. “She must be wet. I’ll take care of that. Can you handle the bottle?”

“Sure. No problem.” He cast a tentative look at the canister. “You, uh, said there were directions?”

“On the side. Or do you want dibs on first diaper duty?”

He took a long step back. “I’ll have the bottle ready when you come out.”

She was shown to a downstairs bedroom with an attached bath. After she laid the baby on the bed and Zack set down a plastic bag of supplies, Trinity left to find a towel from the bath. Changing diapers could be a messy business; she didn’t want to leave the bedspread soiled. Returning, she noticed a silhouette lurking in the shadows of the bedroom doorway. Zack.

“I wanted to make sure the baby didn’t roll off the bed,” he said.

“At three months or younger, she’s too young to roll.”

Even if she were four months, she wouldn’t be able to roll more than once, and from her tummy to her back, not the other way around. She’d learned that when Nora Earnshaw had cared for an infant for a short time. A seven-year-old Trinity had spent all her spare time with that child. When the baby was taken away suddenly one day, she’d been so heartbroken and lonely; she’d barely eaten for weeks. The only saving grace was that the baby’s new foster home had to be better than Nora’s house. Maybe he’d even been adopted by a couple who never let him cry.

Zack smoothed a hand through his coal-black hair. “Then I guess I’ll get that bottle underway.”

Smiling to herself, Trinity watched him disappear then bent over to touch the sniffling baby’s forehead with her own. To think a big, bossy man like Zack Harrison standing all the way back there. Anyone would think he was afraid of holding this little cherub, of bringing her close, whereas any person in their right mind would find it hard to let her go.

Ten minutes later, Trinity emerged from the bedroom feeling most pleased with herself. The baby wore a fresh diaper as well as an intent, curious expression in her gorgeous robin’s-egg-blue eyes as if she wanted to thank this strange woman but didn’t know how. In the kitchen, his cuffs folded back, Zack was busy shaking a full bottle over his wrist. The image was so incredibly sexy, as well as rather funny and tender, something unfamiliar shifted inside and Trinity cradled the baby all the closer. Did all men look slightly awkward yet undeniably hot when performing this kind of domestic feat? Zack was so focused on his task he hadn’t noticed the liquid spraying on his previously immaculate hardwood floor. Talk about single-minded.

“Milk stains, you know,” she said, crossing over.

His dark eyes flashed as he glanced up then down at the formula sprayed on the floor and his shoes. Grunting, he dropped a nearby dishcloth. Keeping a firm hold on the bottle, he rubbed the cloth over the damp area with a foot.

“The temperature needed checking.”

“If you’d kept going,” she teased, “there wouldn’t be anything left in the bottle.”

With a lopsided smile that did bone-melting things to her pulse, he held the bottle high.

“I’m happy to report the beverage is well mixed and—if I do say so myself—perfectly warmed.”

“In that case…” She made to hand over the baby. “Would you care to do the honors?”

His smug smile vanished. “I’ll take the next shift.”

“She won’t bite.”

“How do you know?”

Trinity wondered what he’d do if she plunked the baby in his arms and told him to handle it. If she’d let him tell her what to do, she’d have been on her way back to New York and he’d be here all alone with an infant to care for. Lucky for him she wasn’t a pushover.

Trinity headed for the open plan area. “I’ll need a seat.”

As he overtook her, a hot palm grazed the small of her back and that unfamiliar feeling filled her middle again, spreading heat up toward her chest and throat. For a mindless moment, she held on to the feeling before dragging herself back. Given Zack’s lack of confidence in this area, it was up to her to stay on top of things.

Wouldn’t this make a great story. Hotelier Magnate Admits To Failings.

Stopping at the dining table, Zack held out a carved wooden chair and, with a flourish, indicated she should sit. Trinity studied the chair’s upright back and wrinkled her nose.

“Maybe something a little more comfortable.”

Frowning, he pushed the chair back in. Next she was shown to one of those sumptuous white leather recliners. Feeling as if she were descending into a cloud, she seated herself. A lever on the recliner’s side was lifted, a footrest whirred out and her legs rose until they were near horizontal. Zack couldn’t have looked prouder if he’d single-handedly closed down a community hall to build yet another skyscraper—which he had just last month.

Finding the baby, accompanying Zack Harrison into the middle of nowhere—this entire evening had been surreal. But reclining here with Zack looming closer left her feeling more than a little edgy. And curious. The media was awash with shots of his recent breakup with starlet Ally Monroe. So who was Zack seeing at the moment? Did he feel any guilt over business decisions that had hurt ordinary Americans? Was he as good in bed as the world envisioned him to be?

After meeting him, she’d wager he was even better. Any woman with half her quota of hormones would sizzle in his presence. Girls had probably mooned over him since middle school.

Zack was standing, legs braced, hands low on his hips. “What else do you need?”

She brought her focus back to the baby, who was peering up, a tiny frown pinching her brow while four little fingers wiggled above the turn of her wrap. “Can I have a hand towel? Something to mop up any excess?”

He handed over the bottle and she watched him stride away, drinking in the way his long, solid legs worked to create such a smooth, fluid gait. A moment later, he handed over a towel and, standing back again, squared those impressive shoulders.

“Good luck,” he said in a mock-solemn tone that pried a smile from her lips.

“I’ll report back on casualties,” she replied, checking the measurements embossed on the bottle’s side before lowering the nipple.

Alert baby blues opened wider. In a heartbeat, the baby had latched on and was sucking like she hadn’t eaten in days. Trinity’s stomach knotted tight. How long had it been since her last feeding? Where was her mother? Child Services knew of the situation, but how long before this little sweetheart was taken away?

Of course, the mother might be off searching for her right now. If that were the case, Trinity hated to think of the agony that woman must be going through. Much like her own mother before—

“No one’s called back yet,” Zack said.

Trinity’s train of thought shifted back to the present. Zack was lifting a dining chair and setting it down beside her. Elbows on knees, he leaned forward and threaded his fingers. Trinity wondered why he didn’t take a seat on a recliner. Maybe he was more comfortable keeping that bit of distance.

“I wonder when the police will arrive,” she said, balancing the bottle in the V of her hand as the baby chugged.

“This weather’s probably holding them up. I’ll flick on the news channel soon to see if anything’s been reported. Maybe give them a call myself to make sure all the right info was passed on.” His gaze on the baby now, his chin tipped up and a shadow of a smile touched his lips. “You look like you’re an old hand at this.”

“She’s the one doing all the work.” And working at full steam!

Outside, the wind howled and, beyond a set of floor-to-ceiling French doors and windows, Trinity watched more snow fall while the baby settled down.

After a time, Zack shifted uneasily. “Shouldn’t she be burped sometime soon?”

“Bet you’ll look like an old hand at it.”

He sat slowly back. “On second thought, you’re doing a great job.”

“For a big, tough corporate type, you really are a chicken.”

“Sticks and stones.”

But, while Zack might be hesitant to be hands-on, he did have a point about stopping to let the baby bring up wind. Trinity drew the near empty bottle from her mouth and, bracing herself, waited for the grumble. When the baby only released a quivering sigh and blinked slumberous, contented eyes, Trinity smiled.

Too easy.

She rested the baby against the left side of her chest while Zack moved to position the towel over her shoulder. Then she sat forward to pat and rub the baby’s warm little back. Trinity’s eyes drifted shut as her heart swelled.

Dear heaven, she felt so small. So precious.

Minutes passed and, still patting, Trinity became curious. Then a little worried. Nothing was happening. Perhaps she ought to feed her the rest of the bottle. Maybe Zack should make another one, too. Or wasn’t she burping her right?

Zack must have read the uncertainty in her eyes. He sent over an encouraging look.

“Give her a chance. Her digestive system’s only new.”

She gave him a look. How do you know so much?

He shrugged. “Lots of nieces and nephews.”

Two minutes later, he was sitting on the edge of his chair, clasped hands resting against his chin, his brow lined. “Maybe pat a little harder.”

Trinity’s back went up. She didn’t need the added pressure. “Maybe you could go and organize your next big takeover.”

“I’m taking a couple of days off.”

“Then maybe go make us something to eat.” Instead of sitting there, watching her every move and making her all jittery.

He stayed put. “How do you know I can cook?”

“Same way you knew I could change a baby.”

He chuckled, then, looking suitably magnificent, he got to his socked feet. “In that case, prepare to be dazzled.”

She rolled her eyes and kept patting. “Let me guess. Macaroni and cheese.”

“You do realize that you are now in the wild. I’m all that separates you from any kind of sustenance and starvation.”

The baby answered for her, with a loud, most unladylike burp.

His jaw dropping, Zack drew a set of fingers through his hair. “Seems her digestive system is working just fine.”

Encouraged, Trinity eased out of the recliner onto her feet then patted some more. The baby rewarded them with another belch. Bringing the baby away from her shoulder to examine her face, Trinity beamed.

“Oh, she looks completely satisfied.”

That’s when the baby burped again. But this time, wind wasn’t the only thing she brought up.