Marriage On Demand. Susan MalleryЧитать онлайн книгу.
him a view of her pale throat.
“Because of the fire.”
“Fire?” He jerked his thoughts back from their erotic journey and concentrated on what she was saying.
“The one in town a few days ago. I’m sure you heard about it.”
“Just that a couple of old buildings burned down.” He shrugged. “I’ve been working hard this week, and I haven’t been to town.”
“Oh.”
She took another sip of her coffee, then set the mug on the table in front of her. As she bent forward, the robe gaped more, allowing him to see down the front. She had a small build, but the shape of her breasts was perfect. Creamy ivory crested in coral. His mouth grew dry. He clenched his hands into fists and wished to hell she would stay upright.
“The children’s home burned down.”
“What?” He sprang to his feet. “Is everyone all right?”
“We’re fine. We were lucky. It was during the day. The older kids were at school and the younger ones were at the park playing. No one was there, so there weren’t any injuries. But we lost the whole building. All our supplies, the kids’ toys, everything.”
“It’s gone?” He stalked over to the large window taking up most of one living room wall. He didn’t even have to close his eyes to picture the old two-story building. It had been built sometime in the thirties. Most of the bigger rooms had murals. He’d often stood for hours studying those paintings, wondering who the people in the pictures were and what the artists had been thinking as they’d painstakingly worked their art.
He reached the window and braced his hands on the sill. He could feel the chill of the wind and the dampness from the storm. A large bolt of lightning flashed across the sky and the lights in the room flickered.
“Austin?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you all right?”
“What?” He inhaled sharply, as if he could still smell the odors of stew, old athletic shoes and baby powder. “Yeah. I’m just surprised.”
“I didn’t know you had a connection with the children’s home.”
He heard her bare feet on the floor as she walked toward him. He didn’t turn around, but continued to stare out in the darkening afternoon and the rain pouring down. “I lived there for a couple of years.”
He glanced down at her. She stood next to him, staring up. Her mouth hung open. She closed it slowly and didn’t say anything, but he could see the questions in her brown eyes. If he told her the whole story, she’d get all compassionate and misty-eyed. It happened to women all the time. Occasionally he used the story to his advantage, but not today. Not with Rebecca. He didn’t want to encourage her. Not because he wasn’t interested, but because he was.
“You’re an orphan?” she asked, her voice low and sympathetic.
“Not exactly.”
“Then why were you in the home?”
He didn’t answer. He stared down at her, knowing he was giving her what Jasmine had laughingly called the ice glare. She hadn’t been intimidated by it because she hadn’t been involved enough to care. Rebecca swallowed hard as his expression became more forbidding. She looked away and folded her hands together in front of her waist.
He felt as if he’d just kicked a kitten and had to fight the urge to apologize. Damn. What was wrong with him? Why was she getting to him? Was it the unexpected desire he felt when he looked at her? Or was it something more ominous? A whisper of envy for the innocence in her face. The knowledge that he had never been that open to the world, not even when he was a child. Life had taught them very different lessons. He’d always known he wasn’t like everyone else. He’d accepted that fact, had even been proud of it. Until about a year ago, when he’d awakened to the realization that he would always be alone.
“You don’t want to talk about it,” she said, brushing a strand of hair off her face and turning away. Her shoulders slumped.
He swore under his breath. Why did she have to be so easy to read?
“I was transferred there from another home. I was a troublemaker when I was a kid.”
She looked back at him and gave him a sweet smile. “That I believe.”
“I’d hated where I’d been and I’d planned to hate this place. Then at school I met Travis and his brothers. They sort of changed everything for me.”
“I’ve always wondered how the two of you became friends. You seem so different.”
He raised his eyebrows. “In what way?”
She leaned against the wall and tucked her hands in the small of her back. “He’s so open and friendly. Always good for a laugh. And you’re…” She stopped talking and looked up at him. “What I meant to say is that you’re…”
“Yes?” He folded his arms.
Her breathing increased, and with it the rise and fall of her chest. The thick robe parted slightly, exposing her neck and the hollow of her throat. It shouldn’t have been provocative, but the sight of her bare skin made him want to move close to her and touch and taste every inch of her body. He shifted so the natural reactions to his thoughts would be less obvious.
“You’re different,” she said at last. “How exactly did you meet Travis?”
“I tried to beat him up.”
“What?”
He grinned at the memory. “We were both in the eighth grade. I think I’d been in school about two days and I’d already been in four fights. Travis said something about me being a bully. I turned on him. What I didn’t know at the time was that if you mess with one Haynes brother, you mess with all of them. The other three came running, ready to take apart my hide.”
“What happened?”
“I was ready to get the—” he glanced at her “—living daylights out of me, when Travis did the damnedest thing. He took my side against his brothers. They wouldn’t fight him. Then the vice principal showed up and they all defended me.”
“And you’ve been friends ever since,” she said, staring straight ahead with a dreamy expression in her eyes. “That’s a lovely story. Travis must have seen that you were just a scared and lonely little boy.”
Austin was torn between a desire to frighten her back into being afraid of him and surprise that she’d figured out the truth. That was exactly what Travis had seen. Funny, he’d never told anyone that before. But his relationship with Travis and his brothers had been the reason he’d returned to Glenwood. This was the only place he’d ever liked well enough to stay for more than a few months at a time.
“Yeah, well, it was a long time ago.” He pushed off the windowsill and walked over to a desk in the corner by the stairs. “What’s going on with the children’s home? Do you need money?” He opened the top drawer and pulled out a checkbook. “Is that why you came to see me?”
“Not exactly.”
He’d picked up a pen, but now he put it down. Rebecca crossed the room and stopped behind the wing chair he’d been sitting in. She rested her hands on the high back and gripped the fabric. The lights flickered again; the sounds of the storm increased. He could hear the rumble of thunder and the pounding of the rain on the windows.
He would have given his soul to see her slip the robe off her shoulders and walk into his arms. The corner of his mouth quirked up. He didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of that happening. She might have a crush on him, but she wasn’t about to throw herself at him. Just as well. He would have a hard time refusing that kind of invitation.
He studied her face, the high cheekbones, the