In His Brother's Place. Elizabeth LaneЧитать онлайн книгу.
wait? A pup would help him settle in.”
Angie glanced down at her sleeping son. “So far, he’s settling in fine. But what if we don’t stay? Do you have any idea how hard it is to rent with a dog? If we had to leave the poor thing behind, Lucas would be heartbroken.”
“Why wouldn’t you stay?” He sat upright, leaning toward her. Angie’s pulse slammed as his steely eyes locked with hers. “I’ve told you to consider this your home—yours and Lucas’s.”
Angie felt the jaws of a velvet-cloaked trap closing around her. She shook her head. “It may sound selfish, Jordan, but I can’t give up my whole life to raise Lucas here—and if opportunities lead me elsewhere, then I won’t be leaving alone. I certainly won’t give up my son.”
“But there’s no reason why you’d have to go away to find opportunities. Nobody said you had to give up your life. You’ll have a car. You can go into town, even work if you choose—and you’ll get the chance to meet new friends. In fact, I’m having a party here this weekend.”
“I can just imagine how I’d fit with your crowd—the poor girl from the barrio who got knocked up by your brother!”
Angie saw his mouth tighten. She plunged ahead before he could respond.
“And what about you? You could easily remarry and have children of your own. Then Lucas and I would be nothing but excess baggage. Your wife certainly wouldn’t want us here.”
“Damn it, Angie, why are you making it so hard for—”
His words broke off as Lucas stirred, whimpered and opened his eyes. “Hi, Uncle Jordan,” he mumbled. “Is it time to go home?”
“Anytime you say, buddy.”
He sat up. “Can I ride with you on your horse?”
Jordan glanced at Angie. “That’s up to your mother.”
“It’s fine.” Angie gathered up the picnic things so Lucas wouldn’t see the aggravation on her face. Jordan could have invented a reason to say no. Instead, he’d made her the potential villain. He was good at that—putting her in a position where she couldn’t refuse without sounding like a meanie.
Jordan boosted Lucas onto the front of his saddle and swung up behind him. Lucas’s grin almost split his small face. Angie sighed. She was already losing the battle to protect her son from this manipulative man—a man who was sure to break his trusting young heart.
Jordan spent the afternoon doing paperwork in his office. He’d hoped to see Angie at dinner, maybe mend some fences with her. But he entered the dining room to find the table set for one.
When asked, Carlos explained that Angie was working on her computer. She’d come down earlier and taken a tray to her room for her and the boy.
The message was clear. He’d blown it this morning, offering Lucas a puppy without asking her first, then trying to justify himself. If he didn’t want the woman to pack up and leave, he’d be smart to apologize—on his knees if necessary.
He considered going up to her room, then thought the better of it. Angie needed her private space where she could feel safe, even from him.
Especially from him.
What had gone wrong this morning? He’d wanted the outing to be pleasant. But Angie had been as prickly as a cactus, and he’d pretty much responded in kind. If Lucas hadn’t awakened, their clash might have erupted into a full-scale blowup.
They’d been on edge all morning. But Jordan knew it hadn’t really been about the dog. It had been about Justin.
The old memory flashed through his mind—Justin’s fist crashing into his jaw, then the slamming of a door. Lord, if only he’d known what would happen next… .
But he couldn’t change the past. He could only try to rebuild the future as best he could. That was why he needed Lucas.
Maybe he should come clean with Angie, tell her the whole story. But that would be a bad idea. If Angie knew the truth about how Justin had died, and his own part in the tragedy, she’d never speak to him again. She’d take Lucas and be gone in the time it took to pack her car.
It was after 10:00 p.m. when Angie carried the dinner tray down to the kitchen. Switching on the light above the sink, she took a moment to rinse and stack the dishes.
In darkness once more, she walked out onto the patio. A whimper escaped her lips as she lowered herself to a stone bench. She hadn’t been on a horse in years and her thigh muscles screamed from the morning ride. The long day had worn her out, but before sleep she needed a few minutes to clear her head.
The old Spanish fountain tinkled in the stillness. Beyond the adobe walls, a waning moon hung above the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. The night breeze carried a hint of autumn chill. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Jordan’s voice, from the shadows behind her, kicked Angie’s pulse to a gallop.
“I saw the light come on in the kitchen,” he said. “Is there anything you need?”
She shook her head.
“I missed you at dinner. Especially since I’d planned to apologize for my high-handedness this morning.”
An apology from the almighty Jordan Cooper? Her instincts sprang to high alert. “I was working,” she said. “My clients depend on me to keep their websites updated.”
“Something tells me you work too hard.” His hands came to rest on her shoulders, strong thumbs slipping around to massage the knotted muscles at the back of her neck. The voice of caution whispered that Jordan never did anything without a purpose. Until she was sure what he was after, she should avoid accepting any favors from him. And that meant she should pull away. But his touch was pure heaven. She could feel the tension draining from her tired body. She closed her eyes.
“Feel good?” His hands moved lower to ease the tightness between her shoulder blades. She quivered as his fingers skimmed the fastening of her bra through her thin shirt.
“Mmm-hmm …” she purred.
“Since you’re likely hurting from our morning ride, I can offer something even better. The pool’s drained and covered for the season, but there’s a hot tub on the other side of that wall. Be my guest.”
Once again caution reared its head, reminding her of her resolve not to give in to his attempts to win her over. Yet the thought of that warm water easing her misery was like a siren’s call. But better safe than sorry, Angie reminded herself. “It sounds lovely,” she hedged, “but—”
“But you don’t have a bathing suit? No problem. There’s a dressing room close by. My mother kept robes and a basket of spare suits in there for guests. You’re bound to find something that’ll do for a dark night. Go on, now, you’ve run out of excuses. I’ll get it warmed up.”
This was a mistake, Angie chided herself as she rummaged through the oversize laundry basket. Every minute she spent with Jordan ripped away another layer of her defenses, leaving her raw and exposed. He was so like Justin, yet so different—and in all the wrong ways.
As for the swimsuits, most of them looked as if they’d been here since the 1940s. Here was a black bikini bottom that looked as if it might fit her. But the top was impossibly big. Never mind, she’d just wear her pink T-shirt.
Kicking off her jeans and underpants she pulled on the brief. As an afterthought, she unhooked her bra, worked it out from under her shirt and tossed it onto a bench with the rest of her clothes. Draping a white terry robe over her arm she followed the stone path around the garden wall.
Trust the Coopers not to have an ordinary hot tub. This one was built of native stone set low in the ground like a grotto. On one side, desert plants added to the natural setting. The other side was open to a sweeping view of the mountains.