Читать книгу Expecting His Baby - Sandra Field - Страница 8

PROMPTLY at four o’clock the cab turned into Judd’s driveway. The ornate iron gates were open, leading into stands of mature birch, oak and evergreens, where the snow lay in soft drifts: a small forest in the midst of the city. Then Lise was dropped off in front of the house. Except it wasn’t a house. It was a mansion.

Right out of her league.

The night of the fire she hadn’t taken time for anything other than working out where the bedrooms were in the family wing. Now she stood for a few moments, gazing upward. Despite the trampled grass, and the scaffolding against the damaged wing, it was a beautiful house, U-shaped, the lower story built of gray stone, the upper shingled in sage-green cedar. Rhododendrons and azaleas were clustered against the stonework; immaculate snow lay over an expanse of lawn bordered by tall pines. A tree house nestled in the branches of a maple, while a small pond had been cleared for skating. For Emmy, thought Lise, admiring the way the late afternoon sun gleamed orange and gold on the windows.

It was a very welcoming house.

It didn’t fit what she knew of Judd Harwood.

She carried her bag of gear across the driveway, climbed the front steps and rang the doorbell. Almost immediately, Judd opened the door. “Please come in,” he said formally. “I told Emmy you’d be here soon.”

He was wearing dark trousers with a teal-blue sweater. No man should look that good, Lise thought. It simply wasn’t fair. His features were too strongly carved to be considered handsome; it was the underlying energy, his sheer masculinity that was so overpowering. She said with a careful lack of warmth, “Hello, Judd, nice to see you,” and walked past him into the house.

The foyer with its expanse of oak flooring was painted sunshine-yellow, a graceful spiral staircase drawing her eye upward. An eclectic array of modern paintings intrigued her instantly with their strong colors and sense of design. By the tall windows, the delicate branches of a fig tree overhung clay pots of amaryllis in brilliant bloom.

Color. Warmth. Welcome. The only jarring note was, elusively, the smell of smoke. Confused and disarmed, Lise blurted, “But it’s beautiful.”

“What were you expecting? Medieval armor and poisoned arrows?”

Patches of red on her cheeks, she looked him full in the eye. “Where’s Emmy?”

“In the guest wing—we’ve had to seal off the family wing. So the playroom’s makeshift, and a lot of her favorite toys couldn’t be rescued.” His mouth tightened. “She was clutching her favorite bear when you found her…she won’t let it out of her sight even though it stinks of smoke and I’m sure acts as a constant reminder.”

“Plush,” Lise said. “She told me his name while I was carrying her out of the attic.”

For a moment Judd’s eyes were those of a man in torment. “The fire chief figures it was a fault in the wiring. The housekeeper and her husband raised the alarm—they live in a cottage just behind the house, they had family visiting them that night. The baby-sitter had a headache, she’d taken so many painkillers she was out like a light on the couch. If it hadn’t been for you, Lise…”

Lise couldn’t stand the look on his face; with an actual physical effort, she kept her hands by her side when all she wanted to do was smooth the lines of strain from around his mouth. “If it hadn’t been me, it would have been Dave or one of the other firefighters,” she said noncommittally. “Why don’t you take me to the playroom?”

“Yeah…Maryann, the housekeeper, is up there with Emmy.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “What’s in the bag?”

“You’ll see.”

“Here, let me take your coat.”

As he reached out for her sheepskin jacket, she quickly slid out of it, not wanting him to touch her. He said, “So you haven’t forgotten.”

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand him. “There’ll be no repeat.”

“Not here. Not now.”

“Nowhere. Ever.”

He raised one brow. “Are you daring me, by any chance?”

“Emmy, Judd.”

“I didn’t get where I am today without taking a risk or two—you might want to remember that.”

She said amiably, “Oh, I take risks, too. But I choose my risks. Show some discrimination.”

“Whereas I go after every available female?”

“Plus a few that aren’t. Me, for instance.”

“Lise,” Judd said flatly, “are you involved with Dave?”

She could lie, tell him that she and Dave were a number. And if she did, she had the feeling Judd would leave her strictly alone. But she’d never been any good at lying, and she’d waited too long. “There’s no easy answer to that question. Yes. No. Neither one cuts it.”

“I don’t think you are,” Judd drawled. “Just as well, considering the way you kissed me.”

“And how many women are you involved with, Judd?”

“Platonically, several. But I don’t have a lover, if that’s what you mean. Haven’t had for some time.”

His eyes were fastened on her face; he must have been aware of her quickened breathing. “Do you expect me to believe that?”

“Yes,” he said in a hard voice, “as a matter of fact, I do.”

“Then you’re clean out of luck.”

“The media can make a hotbed of romance out of a handshake, it’s how they earn their keep—you might want to remember that.”

She said coolly, “No smoke without a fire.”

He had the audacity to laugh. “I shouldn’t argue with the expert—but there’s no fire without some basic chemistry. Until you came along, I’d been doing just fine without either one.”

Into her mind flashed an image she’d never been able to forget: Judd and Angeline in the back garden in Outremont. Locked in each other’s arms, kissing in a way that had shattered her adolescent naiveté. “You and Angeline had chemistry.”

“Initially, yes.”

“So it doesn’t last.”

“Not if there’s too little else to support it.”

“Not if one of the partners transfers it elsewhere,” she flashed. “Even if I am arguing with the expert.”

“You listen to me for a minute! I’m a very rich man—money equals power in our society, and power’s an aphrodisiac. So yes, there are women after me. All the time. But, like you, I prefer to exercise choice. And what’s easily available isn’t always what’s desired.”

“I’m not playing some sort of hard-to-get game!”

“I never thought you were.” Briefly Judd touched her cheek, removing his hand before she could back off. “I have the feeling you’re just being yourself. And you have no idea how refreshing that is, after the circles I move in.”

“Who else would I be but myself?” she said with some asperity.

“When we’re talking my kind of money, you’d be surprised what hoops people will jump through.” Restlessly he moved his shoulders. “Let’s go find Emmy—I’ll carry your bag.”

She trailed up the stairs behind him, wondering if she’d ever had such a disturbing or inconclusive conversation. Had it been a drawing of battle lines? A stating of two mutually incompatible points of view? Or of Judd’s intention to pursue her regardless of her wishes?

Did she want the answer?

The stairs opened into another generous hallway with an exquisite Persian carpet in faded shades of red and blue. The two paintings, unless she was mistaken, were a Matisse and a Modigliani. She should be wearing something by Chanel or Dior, Lise thought with wry humor. Not khaki pants, a tangerine sweater and loafers, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Then Judd opened a paneled door. “Emmy?” he called. “Lise is here.” And Lise followed him into the room.

It was a charming room, painted eggshell blue, with a child’s four-poster bed canopied in white muslin. Lise’s feet sank into the carpet. “Hello, Emmy,” she said.

Emmy was dressed in denim overalls, her straight dark hair shining in the light. Her blue eyes—Angeline’s eyes, Lise thought with a twist of her heart—were fastened on the bear in her arms. Plush. Who still reeked of the smoke of her nightmares. “Hello,” Emmy said, and didn’t look up.

Lise hadn’t rehearsed any course of action, trusting she’d know what to do when she got there. She watched Judd drop her bag on the carpet and walked over to Emmy, hunkering down beside her. “Your dad says you’re having nightmares about the fire.”

“Mmm.”

Still no eye contact. “I expect I looked very scary,” Lise said matter-of-factly. “So I brought my uniform with me, so you can see what it’s all for. Why I have to dress up in all that stuff.”

Trying not to favor her sore arm too obviously, she pulled out her long waterproof pants with their silver braces, and the boots with the strips of fluorescent tape on them, and began talking about them in a quiet, uninflected voice. She moved to the jacket, the straps for the oxygen tank, and her helmet with its protective shield, trying them all on as she went; and was steadily aware that Emmy was listening, even though the child was giving nothing away. Then, finally, she took out her mask, and saw Emmy’s dark lashes flicker. “See, these are the head straps, they’re adjustable. And this black coil connects with the oxygen tank I carry on my back. Feel it, you can make it longer and shorter. Sort of like a Slinky toy, did you ever have one of those?”

Tentatively Emmy reached out her hand, poking at the coil. “It changes the way I look,” Lise said, and held it up, putting her face behind it. “But it’s still me. Nobody scary. Nobody who needs to be in a nightmare.” Lowering the mask, she put all the reassurance she possibly could into her smile.

“It’s too big for me,” Emmy said.

“Yes, it is. It might fit Plush, though.”

Emmy blinked. “Do you think he wants to wear it? Isn’t he scared of it, too?”

“Why don’t we try it on and see?”

With some reluctance, the little girl passed over her bear. Carefully Lise fastened the mask to his face, tightening the straps around his caramel colored fur. “There,” she said. “He doesn’t seem to mind it, does he? In fact, he looks rather dashing, don’t you think?”

“Maryann wants to put Plush in the washing machine with lots of soap so he won’t smell of smoke,” Emmy said in a rush. “But I don’t want her to. I keep him around all the time. That’s why he was in the attic with me.”

Emmy had given Lise the perfect opportunity to satisfy her curiosity. “Were you in the attic because you were running away from the fire?” she asked with a careful lack of emphasis.

For the first time, Emmy looked right at her. “Oh, no. When my dad’s away and I’m lonesome, I sleep in the attic.”

And does that happen often?

Fortunately Lise hadn’t asked the question: merely thought it. But she was aware of a steady burn of anger that Judd could so cavalierly leave his daughter alone while he went off on business trips. Or so-called business trips, the ones where he was with a woman. How could he?

“Well,” she said easily, “I’m really glad it was me who found you and Plush. You were both very brave to keep each other company. He’s earned a pot or two of honey for that, I’d say—if he’s anything like Pooh Bear.”

As Emmy gave a small chuckle, Lise’s lips curved in response. “A little something at eleven,” Emmy said shyly.

To her dismay, Lise wanted very badly to hug Emmy; and knew it would be the wrong move. Too soon. Too much. She said gently, “Would you like to take Plush’s mask off?”

Her small fingers very nimble, Emmy loosened the clasps and eased the mask away from the bear. “He likes it better without it,” she said.

Lise laughed. “So do I. It has its uses, but it’s not what you’d call comfortable.” With no ceremony, she started shoving all her gear back in the bag. “All these clothes make me as fat as Pooh the time he got stuck in Rabbit’s front door.”

If she’d hoped for another of those sweet smiles from Emmy, Lise was disappointed. The child was clutching Plush to her chest, and in some very real way had retreated from her. Had she, Lise, reached Emmy? Helped in any way that would be lasting?

A tap came at the door, and a plump elderly woman in a flowered housedress came in the door carrying a tray of tea and cookies. Judd introduced Lise to Maryann, the housekeeper, who gave her a disconcertingly keen look before leaving the tray and closing the door behind her. Emmy drank a glass of milk and ate an oatmeal cookie, answering Lise’s artless questions with unfailing politeness and no warmth whatsoever. In the course of her job, Lise often visited schools, and rather prided herself on her rapport with children. But whatever her gifts in that direction, they weren’t working today, she thought unhappily, wondering why it should matter so much that a small, blue-eyed girl should rebuff her.

It was a relief when Judd got up and said casually, “I’m going to carry Lise’s gear downstairs, Emmy, and drive her home. Maryann’s in the kitchen and I’ll be back in a few minutes. Say goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” Emmy said, looking at Lise’s shoes rather than her face. “Thank you for coming.”

“You’re welcome,” Lise said, infusing her voice with genuine warmth. “It was nice to meet you, Emmy.”

Emmy, pointedly, said nothing. Lise trudged downstairs behind Judd. Standing in the gracious foyer, she asked, “Do you think I did any good?”

Judd said ruefully, “I very rarely know what my daughter’s thinking, and yes, I would suspect you did. You handled it beautifully, Lise, thanks so much…and now I’ll drive you home.”

Lise didn’t want Judd within fifty feet of her apartment. Not after the last time. “I have a couple of errands to run,” she said, “I’d rather get a cab. And I’m sure Emmy needs you more than I do. So she won’t get lonesome again.”

“Do you think I’m not blaming myself?” Judd said harshly. “Give me a break.”

“Angeline always complained about how much you were away.”

His lips tightened. “I’m sure she did.”

“Is there a phone nearby? For the cab?”

“You’re in an almighty rush to be out of here.”

She was; she was terrified he might touch her again, and the alchemy of his body transform her into a woman she scarcely knew. Then Judd took her by the arm, and Lise’s whole body tensed. He said tautly, “I have a proposal…and hear me out before you say anything. Emmy’s out of school for the next few days, it’s March break. I want to get her away from the house and the smell of smoke and all the repairs, so we’re going to Dominica—I have a property there. I want you to come with us.”

“Me?” Lise squawked. “Are you nuts?”

“I’m both sober and in my right mind,” Judd said curtly. “For one thing, I’d like you to be around in case the nightmares persist. Secondly, it’s a small way I can thank you for saving her life. And thirdly, you’re on sick leave and very obviously at a loose end. I could even add a fourth incentive. It’s March in Montreal—wouldn’t anyone rather be on a beach in the West Indies?”

Lise had never been south. Never lazed on a tropical beach or swum in a sea the color of turquoise. For a moment sheer longing to do something so irresponsible, so remote from her normal life, caught her in its grip. Palm trees. Papayas and mangoes. A holiday. A real holiday away from emergencies and sirens and the tragedies that inevitably went with the job. Away from weeping women, charred ruins, smashed cars on an icy highway. Away from the three or four men at the station who would never accept her as someone who could do the job as well as they, no matter how hard she tried. She was so tired of it all. Ten years’ tired.

A holiday with Judd.

How could she even be contemplating such a move? She was the one who was nuts. Trying to tug free, Lise said in a raw voice, “I can’t, it’s a ridiculous idea.”

“Give me one good reason why you can’t go.”

For a horrible moment Lise couldn’t think of one. “Emmy doesn’t want me around,” she blurted.

“She’d get over it.”

“I’d be using you.”

“You let me worry about that.”

“Judd, I can’t go! I’ve never in my life gone away with a man who’s a stranger and I’m not going to start now.”

“Come on, we met years ago, I’m not exactly a stranger.”

She stared up at him. He was smiling at her, a smile of such calculated charm that all her alarm bells went off. Judd was obviously expecting her to capitulate. In bed and out? she wondered, and heard herself say, “Anyway, there’s Dave.”

“There’s also the chemistry, Lise. Between you and me. The kind that starts conflagrations.”

Willing her knees not to tremble, Lise glared up at him. “Let’s have some plain talk here, Judd Harwood. I’ll spell it out for you. You’re quite a guy. Tall, dark and handsome nowhere near describes you. You’re sexy, rich and powerful, your smile’s pure dynamite and your body would drive any woman from sixteen to sixty stark-raving mad. Why wouldn’t I respond to you? I’d have to be dead in my grave not to. But it doesn’t mean a darn thing—I don’t even like you, for Pete’s sake. So please don’t feel flattered that I just about fell into your arms, it’s nothing to—”

Judd said flatly, “Great snow job, and I don’t believe a word of it.”

“That’s your ego talking!”

“Dammit, Lise,” he exploded, “there’s something about you that’s different. I don’t normally ask a woman I’ve spent less than three hours with to go away with me and my daughter. Especially my daughter. You can trust me on that one.”

“Whether I trust a single word you say is completely irrelevant. I’m not going to Dominica with you. I’m not going to the local grocery store with you. Now will you please call me a cab?”

Judd stood very still, looking down at her. Her eyes were as brilliant as emeralds in sunlight, and her face was passionate with conviction. She wasn’t playing hard to get, he knew that in his bones. But she was wrong. Dead wrong.

What was Dave to her? And what had Angeline told her over the years?

He couldn’t answer either question. All he could do was add two more. When was the last time a woman had said no to him? Or had turned down an all-expenses trip to a tropical paradise?

Never.

He didn’t like it one bit. So what was this all about? His bruised ego, as Lise had suggested?

He was damned if this was just a question of hurt pride. It had to be about more than that.

About more than the ache in his groin and his passionate hunger to possess her? His thoughts stopped short. He said tightly, “I’ll call a cab. If Emmy has more nightmares, will you come back?”

“If you’re in Dominica, I won’t be able to, will I?” Lise said, tossing her head.

The light through the tall windows caught in her hair, an alchemy of gold and copper. His body hardened involuntarily and with an impatient exclamation Judd turned away, taking his cell phone out of his pocket and dialing the nearest cab station. Four minutes, he was promised. So he had four minutes to persuade a stubborn, red-haired woman to change her mind. Casually he turned back to face her. “You’re right,” he said, “it was a crazy idea, I allowed my concern for Emmy to override my common sense. Sorry about that. Anyway, you must have been south before, lots of times.”

“No. How long before the taxi comes?”

“A couple of minutes. Come off it, Lise, you must have been to Bermuda or the Bahamas. Or at least to Florida.”

“The furthest south I’ve been is Boston and who do you think would take me on a romantic tryst to the tropics? The fire chief?”

Why not Dave? “You don’t need me telling you you’re a beautiful woman. So don’t pretend there haven’t been men in your life,” Judd said tersely.

“Sure there have been. They stick around until the first time I get called out on emergency and I’m gone for six hours. Or until my first string of night shifts when I come home exhausted at 6:00 a.m. and have to sleep all day so I won’t be a basket case the next night. Or until they get jealous of me spending all my working hours with men. Be honest, Judd—you wouldn’t like it any better than the rest of them.”

Her hours of work didn’t bother Judd in the slightest; he could put in some pretty horrific hours himself. It was the danger she was exposed to that made the blood run cold in his veins. But he wasn’t about to tell her that. “Dave knows the score,” he said, “he works shifts as well. So why haven’t you gone south with Dave?”

“He’s never asked me,” Lise said airily. “Oh, there’s the cab. Bye, Judd.”

He picked up her bag of gear and followed her outdoors. “We haven’t seen the last of each other.”

She gave him a dazzling smile as she opened the door of the taxi. “Have a great time in Dominica.”

He reached in front of her and deposited the bag on the back seat. When she stooped to follow it, he pulled her into his arms, twisting her around and kissing her hard on the mouth. Before he could lose control, he stepped back, letting his arms fall to his sides. “See you,” he said.

Her nostrils flared; her cheeks were bright patches of color. “Over my dead body,” she snapped, clambered into the back seat with none of her usual grace and slammed the door. The cab disappeared into the trees round the curve of the driveway.

Ordinarily Judd’s next move would be to send an extravagant spray of orchids. Or a bottle of Dom Pérignon along with a big box of the world’s most expensive chocolates. Or all three. Somehow he didn’t think any of the above would cut much ice with Lise.

So what was he going to do? Let a female firefighter defeat him? Cut his losses and forget he’d ever met her?

He’d seen another side of her upstairs in Emmy’s bedroom; allied to a volatile mixture of courage and passion, he could now add sensitivity, warmth and humor. She’d even made Emmy smile. Perhaps, he thought painfully, Emmy needed Lise as much or more than he did.

Need her? He, Judd Harwood, needing a woman? All he needed was Lise’s body. He’d better not forget that. If he could only slake his hunger for her, make love to her the night through, he’d be able to put her behind him and forget about her, just as he always had with every other woman but Angeline.

He’d vowed after Angeline left that he’d never fall in love again, and he’d meant every word of it.

The woman wasn’t born who could change his mind on that score.