Читать книгу Single Father: Wife and Mother Wanted - Sharon Archer - Страница 12

MATT GARDINER.

Caitlin froze on the threshold of the lounge, her fingers tightening around the spine of her book until she was sure something would break. It’d been six hours since he’d walked into the kitchen. Six hours that she’d used to prepare for this meeting. She’d convinced herself she was ready.

But she was so wrong.

What was he doing in this room? Doreen said he and Nicky lived in an apartment upstairs. Shouldn’t he have been tucked safely up there?

But, no, his long body was sprawled in a recliner, head tilted back on the cushioned rest, eyes closed. Dark shadows beneath his eyes made him look oddly vulnerable. The difficult twenty-four hours of routine work and after-hours emergencies that Doreen had described earlier must have caught up with him.

His mouth was slightly curved, the bottom lip invitingly full. Caitlin frowned. She didn’t usually notice these details about men. To be sure, she didn’t want to notice them about this man in particular.

A moment later, his mouth moved. Her eyes followed the tip of his tongue as it made a leisurely pass over his lips, leaving them glistening.

Stifling the need to gulp in air, Caitlin retreated, one painstaking step at a time. But the door, having opened so quietly inwards, gave a tiny protesting squeak at her attempt to shut it slowly. She stopped, her gaze snapping back to Matt.

The brilliant green eyes were open, watching her progress with interest. He smiled slowly, as he levered the recliner into an upright position.

‘Well, well. Caitlin Butler-Brown. We meet again.’ Straightening to his full height, he stretched briefly. The movement made the fabric of his polo shirt hug his leanly muscled torso. His well-worn jeans rode low on narrow hips. He ran a hand over his hair, smoothing wayward tufts. ‘Come in.’

‘I didn’t mean to disturb you.’ She clutched the book in front of her, a flimsy defence against his physical appeal.

‘Bit late to worry about that, Caitlin,’ he said cryptically, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

The gleam in his eyes made her feel like succulent prey venturing into a predator’s lair. Instinct made her want to run, but she could find no plausible reason to refuse to enter the room. Especially since that had plainly been her intention before she’d seen him.

‘Can I get you something to drink?’

‘Not for me, no. Thank you.’ The last thing she needed was alcohol. The unfamiliar pull of attraction she felt around him left her feeling skittish and vulnerable. Even the smallest level of intoxication might give her the illusion that she could handle him.

She sent him a cool smile and chose a chair beside the wood-burning heater. Instead of returning to the recliner, he followed her across the room and sank onto the end of the sofa nearest her chair. The arrangement seemed uncomfortably intimate. In her peripheral vision, she could see his long legs stretched out, sock-clad feet pointing towards the flickering warmth of the fire.

‘Mum tells me she had an angina attack while you were here this morning.’

‘She did, yes.’ Thank goodness Doreen had come clean, thought Caitlin. At least that was one deception off her conscience.

‘Thank you.’

‘For what? I didn’t do anything.’ Worse, she had a nagging concern that her arrival might have precipitated the attack. Though there was nothing concrete to confirm her suspicion. ‘She had everything under control.’

‘I know. But I like knowing someone was here with her.’

Caitlin hesitated a moment. ‘Is she well enough to have guests? I’d rather not stay if you think it’ll put her under too much stress.’

‘She manages her condition pretty well.’ He smiled wryly. ‘Besides, I don’t think I’d dare try to stop her running the bed and breakfast now. There’s nothing she enjoys more than a houseful of guests to pamper.’

Guilt made Caitlin’s smile feel strained. She wasn’t just a guest, she was the bearer of bad tidings. Why had her father turned his back on his sister and this wonderful ancestral home for more than half a lifetime? He’d swapped the certainty of belonging for a nomadic life with her mother.

And yet, in the last days of his illness, it was this place and his sister that his thoughts had returned to—family that he’d left behind all those years ago. Would Doreen want to know the news that her younger brother was dead? Was she even well enough to handle it? No possibility now of reconciliation.

‘So you staying here is a happy coincidence, isn’t it?’ Matt’s voice rumbled into her musing.

‘A happy coincidence?’ she said blankly, trying to pick up the thread of the conversation. His comment, coming on the heels of her thoughts, jolted her badly. ‘I—I’m sorry. What were you saying?’

Was he toying with her? Did he suspect there was more to her visit?

‘I was wondering how I’d be able to track you down.’

‘Why—why would you want to do that?’

There was a small, charged silence.

‘I have something you’ll want.’ Laughter and something warmer lurked in his eyes as he leaned on the arm of the sofa and watched her.

Flirting. There was nothing sinister going on. He was just flirting with her, and her conscience had imbued his words with deeper overtones.

Just flirting? she mocked herself silently. A pulse thumped frantically in her throat and it was all she could do not to put a protective hand up to cover it.

‘Is that so?’ She swallowed, willing herself to relax. ‘I can’t imagine what it might be.’

‘You can’t imagine…anything?’ His mouth tilted into a small teasing smile. ‘I’m stricken.’

‘Sure, and don’t you look it,’ she said, struggling to keep her expression bland.

‘Perhaps if you tried harder, something might come to mind.’

‘Matt, could you—?’ Doreen’s head appeared around the door. ‘Oh, Caitlin. Sorry, dear, I didn’t realise you were in here as well.’ The older woman looked from one to the other and back again.