Pregnancy Countdown. Linda Randall WisdomЧитать онлайн книгу.
had no trouble nabbing the culprit. And Mark had suffered detention after school for three weeks. He hadn’t minded. It had been worth it.
“Can I come in?”
He didn’t miss the indecision shadowing Nora’s eyes before she finally gave a brief nod. She called out to her dog and waited as the bulldog lumbered back up the walkway. Brumby rotated his head just enough to look back at Mark with a gaze that was suspicious at best.
“I was invited,” he informed the dog as he followed Nora into the house.
“One of my neighbors called me to say there was a strange man lurking across the street from my house. She was ready to call the police, but I informed her you were fairly harmless,” she told him as she made her way to the rear of the house. “Of course, if you’d rather have the police hauling you in I can call her back and tell her to feel free to make the call. She loves nothing better than to call in anyone she considers a pervert. You’d make her day.”
“Gee, thanks for saving my dignity. Such as it is.” He found himself walking carefully as Brumby still tried to keep himself plastered against Mark’s leg.
Nora eyed his shirt covered with swaying palm trees and hula girls. “Have you ever had a parrot try to built a nest on you?”
“Not lately.”
Mark sniffed. If he wasn’t mistaken, he could smell cinnamon and a few other scents that could only add up to one thing, cookies fresh from the oven. He closed his mouth before he embarrassed himself by drooling. There was no hiding his hopeful expression.
Nora sighed. “I suppose you want some of my cookies.”
He opened his mouth, ready to throw out one of his infamous lines loaded with innuendo. Luckily for him he closed it in time.
Nora glared at him as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.
“Yes, please,” he said meekly, shifting over to lean against the counter. He watched her place several good-size cookies on a plate. She opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a carton of milk. A filled glass soon followed the plate to the table. A soft snuffling sound attracted her attention. “No cookies,” she told her dog in a firm voice. “The vet said you have to lose five pounds.”
A rumbling response from the bulldog told them his opinion of the diet. He settled back awkwardly on his haunches. His tongue lolled happily as he gazed up at his mistress with adoring chocolate-brown eyes.
Nora didn’t miss that a pair of sizzling blue eyes were also watching her. Except, instead of adoration, she saw something more fundamental in his stare. Her first instinct was to look away, so she forced herself to return his steady gaze. She wasn’t about to let Mark know he left her feeling unsettled.
Without taking his eyes off her, Mark pulled the chair out on the other side of the table. When Nora settled herself in it, he carefully pushed it forward before walking around to the opposite chair and sitting down. He picked up a cookie.
“Oatmeal?” he questioned. She nodded. “Please tell me these don’t have raisins in them.”
“I firmly believe oatmeal cookies should only come with chocolate chips,” Nora told him, aware of his extreme dislike for the tiny wrinkled fruit.
He bit into one and groaned with delight. “Still warm,” he muttered, taking a second bite. “Damn, these are good!” He paused. “Please don’t tell my mom I said that or I’ll never get any cookies out of her again.”
“You’re safe. It’s your mother’s recipe,” she replied.
Mark polished off the rest of the cookies in record time. He cast a beseeching look in Nora’s direction.
“Brumby begs a lot more eloquently.” She carried the plate over to the counter and put a few more cookies on it then dug a dog biscuit out of a box and tossed it in Brumby’s direction. The dog’s jaws promptly parted long enough to catch the biscuit before snapping shut. A low rumble of satisfaction sounded deep in his throat after he finished his treat. He looked up with hopeful eyes.
“You are so pathetic,” she sighed as she tossed him another biscuit.
“Spoiled is more like it,” Mark muttered then grabbed his plate before she could take it away from him. “Well loved,” he amended.
“You’re as pitiful as the dog.” She used a spatula to place the rest of the cookies on a cooling rack. When she finished, she turned around. “Care to tell me the real reason you’re here?”
“I wanted to make sure that you were all right.”
That wasn’t the answer she had expected.
“I’m fine,” she said shortly.
Mark didn’t take his eyes off her. “After—”
“We had sex, Mark,” she said flatly. “No promises were made, no declarations given, no strings attached. Let me make this perfectly clear to you. I haven’t been sitting by the phone in hopes you’d call. I didn’t expect you to show up with flowers and candy and spouting love poems. It was just one night, Mark,” she said in a voice that sounded forceful. “I needed some comforting that night. It was nothing more.” She ignored his wince at her blunt word choice. She mentally put his expression down to a fragile male ego. Not that what she said might matter to him. That she might matter to him.
Mark leaned back against his chair, one arm draped along the back.
“Don’t ignore the truth, Nora. We had more than a one-night stand,” he said softly.
“I was grieving for a beloved relative,” she stated just as softly. “I was vulnerable.”
“Don’t try to say I took advantage of you.”
“I’m not saying that!” She paused and took a deep breath. “You’re off the hook, Mark.”
He shot to his feet so fast his chair fell backward onto the floor.
He blew up at her. “Off the hook? Who the hell said I thought something that ridiculous? Dammit, Nora! Can’t a guy just stop by to see a woman? Can’t he come over to see how she’s doing when she’s been through a rough time without her thinking the worst of him?”
“Are you saying you came by here without an ulterior motive?” She smiled when she saw the guilty flicker in his eyes.
Bingo!
“I was worried about you.”
His simple statement doused the fury still roaring inside her like a cold shower. Nora collapsed against the counter. Her hands gripped the edge so tightly the knuckles turned white from the strain.
“I’m fine,” she managed to say eventually but not convincingly.
“No, you’re not.”
She laughed. “Are you calling me a liar?”
“Only someone who’s lying to herself.” He walked over to her and gently pried one of her hands away from the counter’s edge. His thumb gently caressed the inside of her wrist in a manner that wasn’t the least bit intimate. “Pulse a little too fast. Pupils reacted a little quickly. Shallow breaths,” he recited. He smiled at her look of surprise. “Honey, you forget I’m a trained paramedic. I can recognize the signs of full-blown panic a mile away.”
She snatched her hand back. “I am perfectly calm.” That wasn’t panic in her voice, was it? She hadn’t counted on her emotions getting the best of her. “Dammit, Mark! Why are you here? We had a nice night, but that’s all it was. Afterward, you were supposed to go your way while I went mine. You weren’t supposed to return to the scene of the crime!”
He looked affronted. “I don’t recall doing anything illegal.” He screwed up his face in thought. “Well, maybe in some states people could consider that one thing…” He paused with a meaningful look.
“Stop