To Love An Older Man. Debbi RawlinsЧитать онлайн книгу.
elevator, her head bowed, her long blond hair falling forward and hiding her face.
“Excuse me?” David said, and her head shot up, her big blue eyes startled and wary. “Can I help you?”
“No.” She pushed out of the chair. “Thank you. I was just waiting for the elevator.”
She was young, really young, just as he’d thought. He gave her a reassuring smile. “Are you here to see someone?”
She bit her lower lip, probably to keep it from quivering, and then pressed the elevator button. “I know it’s late. I promise I’ll leave the building as soon as the elevator gets here.”
A swift and fierce hatred for Tom Snyder gripped David. How could the guy have treated this young woman so callously? She was obviously a wreck, and still she tried to protect him. She could have announced why she was here, embarrass Tom. But she hadn’t.
“I’m not concerned about you leaving the building but I’d like to know where you’re going.”
She stared in surprise. “Why?”
He nodded at the small bag on the floor beside her. “Is that yours?”
“Yes,” she mumbled and bent to pick it up. She looked unsteady as she straightened and he reached for her arm. She jerked away, fear darkening her blue eyes.
“I’m sorry.” He withdrew his hand. What the hell was he doing getting involved? Put him in a courtroom and he could make judges weep. Here, he was no better than a bull in a china shop. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
She shrunk against the wall, her gaze darting down the corridor. Looking as though she wanted to make a run for it.
“I better introduce myself,” he said quickly. “I’m David Matthews.” Recognition registered in her face, but he added, “I own this firm.”
She blinked and then her eyes narrowed as she drew back.
He reached into his pocket and withdrew his wallet. “See?” He showed her his driver’s license, and impulsively placed his thumb over his birth date.
She wrinkled her nose. “I believed you. It’s just that you’re not that old.”
“Pardon me?”
She quickly averted her eyes, her cheeks flushing a deep pink, and she jabbed at the elevator button again.
“At this time of night security shuts down all but one elevator. It’s going to be a while.”
She said nothing, only stared down at her battered pink tennis shoes.
“Beth?”
Her gaze flew back to him. “How do you know my name?”
“I heard you and Tom arguing.” He hated that he made her uncomfortable, had put humiliation in her face, but there was no getting around it. “Where are you staying tonight?”
She briefly closed her eyes and swayed slightly. He squashed the urge to steady her. “Please, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”
“You haven’t. From what I heard, Tom was being…” A total ass. “…less than honorable. Is he still here?”
Beth shook her head, wishing the darn elevator doors would open and swallow her up. She should never have come here. What had she hoped to accomplish? Tommy wasn’t going to budge. All she’d done was totally humiliate herself in front of a stranger.
“I’ll be fine, really. Thank you for asking.” She turned her back on his dark penetrating eyes, and faced the elevator.
“Beth? May I call you that?” he asked, and she jumped when he touched her arm.
“Sure.” She shrugged, and shifted away. His voice was gentle, concerned, and she struggled to hold herself together.
“I know you must be embarrassed and a little frightened.” He paused when she refused to acknowledge him. “I know I would be in your shoes. But you do have to think about the baby.”
A sob caught in her throat. She couldn’t speak even if she wanted to. Not that she had anything to say. He was right, but she felt so darn helpless.
“I have a large house with three guest rooms. You’re welcome to stay the night.”
Of course she couldn’t accept his offer but she still couldn’t speak either. If she did, she feared the floodgates would open.
He pushed a rough hand through his short dark hair, and she realized he wasn’t as calm as he seemed. “I assure you this offer is on the up-and-up. My mother has a suite of rooms on the third floor. Our housekeeper has an apartment over the garage.”
Beth relaxed a little. He was being awfully kind. But surely she’d find a shelter that could take her in for the night. She opened her mouth to refuse, but before she could say a word, her stomach rumbled. She groaned at the loud, obnoxious sound, and muttered, “Must be the baby.”
He smiled. “Let the little guy know I have a fully stocked kitchen.”
“It might be a girl.”
“Of course.”
“It’s too early. I haven’t found out yet.” Oh, God, she was babbling.
He didn’t seem put off, but smiled again. “Just for tonight. Tomorrow you’ll be better rested, the baby’s belly will be full and you can decide what you want to do.”
She shook her head. “Thank you, but—”
“Beth, you have your baby to think about.” His words were quiet, gentle but they cut through her like a butcher’s knife.
She wrapped her arms around herself, recalling the cold damp fog that had started to roll in an hour ago. Foolishly she’d hoped she’d have a nice warm room by now. She sighed and rubbed the slight swell of her tummy. Mr. Matthews was right. This wasn’t only about her anymore. She had the baby to worry about.
Still, it was difficult to bring herself to accept charity. It was a new experience. Even after her parents had died ten years ago, and her brother took charge of both her and the farm, she’d always been self-sufficient.
But she hadn’t had a baby to worry about, she reminded herself. She took a deep breath. “Thank you, Mr. Matthews. We—I’ll accept your kind offer. On one condition.”
His left brow went up.
“I pay you back when I’m able.” She knew he meant nothing by it, but his patronizing expression annoyed her. “That’s how it has to be.”
His forehead creased in thought and he pursed his lips. They were nice lips, not too thin, not too full. Perfect, really. “The thing is, I’ve got to pay my mortgage whether you stay tonight or not.”
She saw the amused glint in his eyes, and folded her arms across her chest and sat down on the upholstered bench between the elevator doors. Fine. If she had to wait all night for the darn elevator at least she’d be warm and dry.
A short startled laugh made her look up. He put on a straight face, but a smile lurked at the corners of his mouth. “Come on, Beth.” He offered her a hand. “Let’s discuss it in the car.”
Her stomach growled again. She tried sucking it in to stop the noise. No luck. “All right, Mr. Matthews, but you know my terms.”
He took the bag from her hand. “I have a condition, as well. Call me David. I may be old enough to be your father but—”
“You are not. I’m twenty-five.” She’d fudged only a little. Her birthday was in a month.
He looked surprised.
She studied the faint smile lines at the corners of his eyes. “How old are you?”
He frowned and cleared his throat. “Let’s get on the road. I’ll