Husband Needed. Cathie LinzЧитать онлайн книгу.
stared at her blankly. “The list?”
“The list of errands you want me to run.”
He took exception to her maternal tone of voice. “Listen, I already have a mother, I don’t need—”
“It’s my understanding that you’ve already driven your mother to distraction,” she interrupted him to say. “That’s why your uncle hired me.”
Jack glared at her. “Okay, so I don’t like people fussing over me.”
“I’ll remember that. Your uncle felt that you would prefer someone objective assisting you rather than being ‘fussed over’ as you put it.”
Actually what Jack’s uncle had said was “My nephew is impossible! If you can handle him, you can manage anything and I can assure you that I’ll throw more work your way than you’ll know what to do with.” As a member of the Chicago Board of Trade, Mr. Enteman could throw a lot of work her way with other traders who were too busy to handle the details of their daily lives. This could be the break she and Diane were waiting for, their first big account.
Meanwhile, Jack was reconsidering his position. He supposed there were worse things than being waited on hand and foot by a beautiful woman like Kayla. He’d noticed that she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Which meant what? That she was divorced? Available?
“We got off on the wrong foot here, no pun intended,” he said, fitting the padded handle of the crutch under his arm. “What do you say we start over again? How about telling me your daughter’s name?”
“It’s Ashley.”
“Hey, Ashley, I’m sorry I was yelling before,” Jack said in his most charming voice, the one he’d been told on more than one occasion could charm the wings off an angel.
But his charm apparently didn’t work on little girls, since Ashley refused to even look at him, just burrowing her face even further into her mother’s shoulder.
Not that Jack should complain, since the kid’s actions did manage to shift the neckline of the black angora sweater Kayla was wearing so that it displayed the intriguing hollows of her collarbone and the soft curve of a shoulder. A flickering flame of awareness teased his senses and warmed his appetite.
His gaze leisurely traveled upward, from the creamy skin of her throat over a chin that looked like it could be stubborn, to her lips.... Very nice lips. Her cheeks were flushed, with anger or attraction? When his eyes finally reached hers, he got his answer—she met his perusal head-on. She was looking at him as if he were a low-life and she a queen. Jack wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or intrigued.
Women had always found him attractive—he wasn’t conceited about it, he was simply accustomed to it. He had gray eyes and a way with women; both were mere facts. Over the years there were plenty of women who’d found him to be irresistible.
But not this one. This one was eyeing him with complete indifference and just a twinge of impatience. Jack saw no hint of attraction in Kayla’s blue eyes, not a smidgen of sympathy at his being laid up with a broken leg. Maybe it was time to bring up the fact that he was a firefighter—that usually got women’s attention.
“Did my uncle tell you that I was injured in the line of duty?” Jack asked her.
“No.”
Didn’t the woman have any curiosity? he irritably wondered. “I’m a firefighter.”
“That’s nice.”
Nice? Nice?! That’s it? Okay, so swinging his crutch at her had not made the best of first impressions. But he could make up for that. “Look, why don’t you and your daughter sit down while I write up the list. As you can see, it takes me a while to get around.” He’d never had to use the sympathy angle before, but hey—if it worked...
It didn’t.
“You moved fast enough swinging that crutch of yours,” Kayla replied.
Ah, so she wasn’t going to make this easy on him, was she? Okay. That was fine by Jack. He hadn’t had a challenge like this in years. Well, actually, he’d never had a challenge quite like this, but he was man enough to rise to the occasion.
And the way her angora sweater clung to her curves did indeed make a certain part of his anatomy rise. She was tall, only about four or five inches shorter than his own six feet. And she wasn’t wearing heels. In fact, she was wearing practical-looking black flats.
“In those clothes, you don’t look old enough to have a daughter,” he murmured.
Kayla narrowed her eyes at him. She knew damn well he was practicing his charm on her. She also knew that he was aggravated it wasn’t working. Good. It served him right—for scaring the heck out of her, swinging his crutch at her and nearly decapitating her.
It didn’t matter that he had the most intriguing eyes she’d ever seen—a blend of blue and gray. They were like smoke. In contrast, his dark lashes and eyebrows were a commanding combination. His hair was equally dark and somewhat on the wild side, which she had a feeling matched his own personality. Somewhat on the wild side.
He had the powerful build of a man who was used to physical activity. His shoulders were exceptionally broad, straining against the sweatshirt he wore. And the running shorts displayed his muscular legs, the calf muscles well developed. All of him was well developed, for that matter.
But if he thought she was going to melt, now that he’d turned on the sex appeal—the heated looks from those smoky eyes, the devilish grin from lips a sculptor would have loved—he was sadly mistaken. She’d already been put through the grinder by a pro. Her ex-husband, Bruce, had been as good-looking as they came. She’d fallen in love with him at first sight and had scarcely been able to believe her luck when he’d finally asked her out. It had been her first month at college. By the end of the year, she’d dropped out and they’d gotten married. The next five years had flown by as she’d been busy working to put her husband through medical school—only to have him dump her when he’d finished his internship.
That had been nearly three years ago and the hurt was still there, if not the love. Kayla had used part of the divorce settlement she’d received to start up Errands Unlimited with Diane. After all, Kayla had been running Bruce’s errands throughout their marriage. Yet as a working mother, she knew how little time there was in a day, and had often wished she’d been able to afford to hire someone to do the million and one things that needed to be done in a day that had too few hours.
And now she had the chance to prove herself to Jack’s uncle, with the reward being her first big account. Yes, this job was an important one, not that Kayla intended to let Jack know that.
She intended to keep things strictly professional. She didn’t care how attractive the man was. Her ex-husband had been hunk material. On the outside. She’d discovered too late that he was just a jerk at heart.
“The list,” she reminded Jack.
“Right.”
As Kayla watched him struggle to maneuver himself over to the couch she had to steel herself against giving in to her immediate impulse to rush over and help him. It wasn’t in her nature to just stand by when someone needed assistance.
“Mommy, you’s huggin’ me too hard,” Ashley complained.
“Sorry, baby.” Kayla kissed her daughter’s forehead. “We’ll be going soon...”
A string of curses filled the air as Jack hit his big toe on the leg of the coffee table.
“Mr. Elliott, I’d appreciate it if you’d watch your language around my daughter!”
The outraged primness of Kayla’s voice made Jack want to...kiss her. She had the kind of mouth for it. Soft and full. Downright lush.
Shifting Ashley from one hip to the other, Kayla said, “If you can’t write up the list now, I’ll come back later....”