Valentine's Day. Nicola MarshЧитать онлайн книгу.
he knew she would reject that. He would have to bide his time. Maybe once she knew him better, she would trust him. Oddly enough, he wanted that badly. In fact, he ached to do something for her— anything, and he wasn’t sure why he felt that way.
Oh, he knew the mechanics. She’d had tragedy. He cared about her and wanted to do something to help her get over the agony of it. But why did he seem to have this deep, unfamiliar need to do that? He didn’t remember ever having it before, not with anyone outside of his immediate family. Very strange.
Tito came in from visiting relatives in a local suburb. He was surprised to see Cari there, but welcoming enough. Still, he went off to his own room pretty quickly. And Cari knew it was time to get her sleeping arrangements settled.
She didn’t want to stay in the room Mrs. Turner had used. The nanny’s bags were still scattered across the floor, and her clothes were in the closet and dresser. So Max ordered up a rollaway and set up the bed in the baby’s room. That was for the best. She wanted Jamie to have the feeling someone was always there for him. No gaps. No more being left to cry his heart out on his own.
“I actually understand the theory behind what Mrs. Turner meant to do with him,” she told Max as they were arranging the room. “It doesn’t do to let babies think they can manipulate you all the time. But Jamie’s case is special. He’s missing his mom and he needs extra love to make him feel secure right now, not discipline.”
“I think you’re probably right,” Max told her, talking softly so as not to wake the baby. “I sure feel more comfortable with your methods than I did with the nanny’s.”
“Good.” She smiled at him. Everything he said was reassuring her. Still, she knew the best of intentions could evaporate when one was under stress. She wanted to be there in case she was needed as a buffer. There was no substitute for hands-on child care.
“I’m going to need something to sleep in,” she pointed out, looking down at the blue cocktail dress. It gave her a start to notice how low the neckline was. She’d forgotten. Her cheeks felt hot. Looking up, she saw that Max had been watching and was reading her mind. The awareness between them almost made her gasp. She turned away quickly and didn’t look at him again until he left the room and came back with a large T-shirt for her to use as a nightgown.
He began to talk about random things and she realized he was trying to put her at ease again. She appreciated that, but she didn’t feel comfortable. Despite the presence of Tito in the room on the other side of the suite, they were basically alone together. That made him a threat—to her peace of mind at least. He was too potent a force to ignore.
At one point, he made a comment about C.J. and she couldn’t help but give her own take on things.
“She means to marry you, you know,” she said, looking down into the crib at Jamie as he slept.
He didn’t flinch. Coming up beside her, he smiled down at the drowsy baby. “Yes,” he said casually. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that. But I’m afraid you’re right.”
She turned to look at him in exasperation. “How can you be so calm about it? You hardly know her. I mean, you thought I was her last night.”
“I wish I’d been right,” he said dryly, and she gasped, but he was smiling. He turned and gazed at her as though her naiveté amused him. “This is not a love match, Cari. If there is anything to it, it’s more like a business deal.”
“That’s exactly what she told me,” she noted, nodding. “You marry her, your mother gets the ranch. Isn’t that the way it goes?”
“Pretty much.”
She shook her head. “It sounds crazy to me.”
“Life can be crazy sometimes,” he said vaguely, waving her objection away. “But it has its own special logic. People get married for all sorts of reasons. To do it as part of an exchange of goods is one of the most ancient methods in every culture.”
“It seems way too medieval.”
“Really? What will you marry again for, Cari? Love?”
His voice rang with sarcasm at the word, as though he didn’t believe in it. That put her back up a bit, and yet she couldn’t really argue with him when she was going to deny the need to love in her own right.
“I won’t marry again at all,” she said instead. “I don’t need a man in my life.”
He stared at her for a moment, then threw back his head and laughed out loud. “You’re priceless, Cari,” he said. “But this is the way it is. I’ve been dating women for over fifteen years now. I’ve yet to find one I desperately want to spend the rest of my life with. Evidence suggests she’s not going to come breaking out of the woodwork anytime soon. So why not use a marriage to get what I want?”
She snorted. His cynicism appalled her. “The question is, why do you want it?”
“To save my mother’s life.”
That shut her up. She couldn’t help but feel it was a bit melodramatic. She supposed that was the Italian in him. But it left her speechless nonetheless. After all, what would she be willing to do for the people she loved best?
“Not that,” she whispered to herself as he turned and left the room.
She watched him go, then followed him out into the living room, ready to ask him more about this, but he sandbagged her with a question of his own.
“So what did you think of your blind date?” he asked, sinking into the sleek yet comfortable couch.
“Who? Randy?” She flopped down into a chair across from where he was sitting. Her chin rose. “Obviously, he’s perfect for me,” she said with only a tiny touch of sarcasm.
He caught her nuance. “Is he?” Amusement danced in his dark eyes.
“Of course.” She shrugged. “Hand picked, in fact, by my best friend, Mara. And she was right. Can’t you tell?”
He allowed himself a halfhearted grin. “Oh, yeah. Nice guy. Funny guy. I enjoyed him.”
“Me, too.” She punched a pillow. “He’s exactly the sort of man I need.”
“Ya think?”
“Yes.” She faced him frankly. “He’s very calm and very…” She drew in a long, deep breath. “Very ordinary.”
“Ordinary.” He frowned thoughtfully, then raised an eyebrow. He’d never thought of that quality as an attribute. “Is that a plus?”
She nodded. “I’m ordinary. What’s wrong with ordinary?”
He gave her a look. Maybe the word didn’t mean just what he thought it did. “Did I say anything was wrong with ordinary?”
“Ordinary can be okay,” she said a bit defensively. “I come from ordinary people. My father was an accountant, my mother worked in a bank.”
“Do they live in Dallas?”
She shook her head. “No. My mother died of cancer and my father died of a broken heart.”
“Ah.” He nodded. He understood that sort of thing.
“It’s true you don’t get the thrilling highs with ordinary,” she went on. “But you don’t get the bone-rattling lows, either.” She winced, thinking of Brian. “Excitement can be scary when it goes bad,” she added softly.
He noted the haunted look in her eyes as she spoke. There had been some scary excitement in her life, something that had gone badly. Of course, there were the deaths of her husband and child she’d told him about. Tragedies like that could have life-crippling effects on a person. But he had a feeling this was something more deeply rooted in the past, and maybe more specific to one person—for instance, her husband. What else could have made her so wary of a relationship?
It only