From Fortune To Family Man. Judy DuarteЧитать онлайн книгу.
so it was an easy jump to make. Either way, she wasn’t the type of woman Kieran dated.
When Dana turned away from the kitchen counter with a bowl of macaroni salad in her hand, she caught Kieran studying her. For a moment, something stirred between them—a spark of some kind. Maybe a flash of chemistry. He’d dated enough to know when an attraction was mutual.
But if he was right about what he’d sensed, she seemed to get over it a lot faster than he did.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“No.” Hell, no. He’d merely zoned out, caught up in a momentary fixation. He shook off his wild thought. “I... I just wasn’t sure what to do next.”
“Would you take this salad, along with the others on the counter, to the dining room and place them on the table?”
“Sure.” Glad to have a job to do, one that would take him out of the kitchen and away from her, he took the bowl and did as instructed.
What was the matter with him? Even if he did find Dana attractive and interesting, she’d dated Zach. It wouldn’t be right to think of her in a...well, in a romantic way.
So he’d better get his mind on either someone or something else. Quickly.
* * *
Dana reached into the drawer nearest the oven and pulled out a couple of pot holders. But she couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder to see Kieran carry the first of the salads out to the dining room. The man might be well-dressed and gorgeous, but he was completely out of place in a kitchen, let alone one that was built in the 1950s.
Even when he wasn’t dressed in a stylish gray Armani suit, the corporate vice president seemed to be cut from a different bolt of cloth than Zach. Kieran was made from expensive silk, like the fancy yellow tie he was wearing, while Zach had been made out of rugged and durable denim.
It was impossible not to compare the two men, to note their good qualities or admire their close friendship, although now that Zach was gone, there was no longer any reason to.
Dana returned to her work and pulled a ham from the oven, leaving two casseroles still baking inside.
When footsteps sounded in the open doorway, the kind made by Italian loafers and not cowboy boots, she turned to see Kieran return, his hands now empty.
“What next?” he asked.
She put the hot pan on the stove top, then set the pot holders on the counter. “Would you mind slicing this ham?”
“No, not at all.”
“There’s a serving platter in the small cupboard over the fridge. There might also be a couple of trivets in there. I’ll need them to hold the casserole dishes.”
His brow knit together. “What’s a trivet?”
She couldn’t help but smile. He’d probably been raised with a housekeeper, a cook and a nanny, so it was no wonder that he didn’t know his way around a kitchen. But she had to give him credit for trying to help and to fit in. “A trivet is a small little rack that keeps a hot dish from resting directly on the table.”
“Got it.” He brushed past her, leaving a soft trail of that mountain fresh scent in his wake.
She couldn’t help taking a second whiff, appreciating his unique fragrance. But that’s the only arousing awareness she’d allow herself. She shook off her momentary attraction, took the pot holders in hand again, removed the two casseroles from the oven and placed them on the stovetop.
After Kieran set the platter on the counter, he removed the trivets from the cupboard. “Why don’t I put these on the table so they’ll be ready for those hot dishes?”
She thanked him. Then, in spite of her resolve to keep her mind off him and on her work, she watched him go. She’d never been interested in men like Kieran, although she had to admit he was more than attractive. At six feet tall, with light brown hair and blue eyes, he was a killer combination of bright and sexy. Most women wouldn’t think twice about setting their sights on him, but Dana was more the down-home type. And she knew most men considered her to be a little too quirky to notice her in a romantic way.
In addition to the obvious, Kieran was also a member of the renowned Fortune family. And Dana had no family at all.
Of course, that didn’t mean she’d been left destitute. Before their fatal accident, her parents had set up a trust fund for her, and last year, on her twenty-fifth birthday, the money had been released. She’d used most of it to purchase and to renovate a run-down house in Hyde Park that was built in the 1940s.
Still, even though she was a property owner and had a small nest egg, she wouldn’t fit into the social circles in which Kieran and his family ran—nor would she even want to try. Not when her idea of a perfect afternoon was a trip to an antiques shop, where she scoured vintage photos, or a lazy walk through flea markets, where she searched for hidden treasures.
No, she’d feel completely uncomfortable hobnobbing with Kieran and his rich family and friends. Heck, she sometimes felt out of place in 2017 Austin, which was one reason she loved walking in her quaint, historical neighborhood.
So why complicate matters when she liked her life just the way it was?
“I’m finished,” Kieran said, as he reentered the kitchen yet again.
Dana was finished, too. Not just getting the food ready, but comparing the different lives she and Kieran lived. Besides, even if she ever did consider going out with a man like him, it would never work out. From what she’d heard, Kieran dated a lot of gorgeous women, and Dana would never agree to be one of many.
She had a good life—and a busy one. She wasn’t lacking anything other than a family of her own. And now that the Lawsons had invited her to come around more often, she’d be able to maintain and nurture the relationship she had with them.
It might not be the perfect setup for the holidays and other lonely days, but it was close enough to be a darn good substitute.
* * *
The call Kieran had been dreading came only a week after Zach’s funeral, while he was in his office at Robinson Tech.
“Sam’s in the hospital with angina,” Sandra said. “It’s pretty serious this time, and I’m not sure how long he’ll need to stay. They’re talking about surgery.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Kieran asked.
“I have a babysitter at the house with Rosie. The granddaughter of a neighbor. The girl is good with kids and responsible, but she’s only fourteen. She’ll be able to handle things for a while, but I have no idea how long I’ll need to be here with Sam.”
“Don’t worry about Rosie,” Kieran told her, even though his own concern about the child’s well-being, especially with him in charge of her, was mounting by the second. “I’ll pick her up and relieve the sitter. But if you don’t mind, since I’m not too far from the hospital, I’ll stop by to see you and check on Sam first.”
“Thanks, Kieran. He’d love to see you. He’s on the third floor, in room 312.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes—maybe less.”
Sandra paused a beat then asked, “What would we do without you, Kieran?”
He could ask her a similar question. How in the world will Rosie be able to get by without you?
“I’m happy to help out whenever and however I can,” he responded.
“Bless you, honey. I’ll see you soon.”
After disconnecting the line, Kieran told his assistant to cancel an afternoon appointment and to reschedule tomorrow’s board meeting. Then he left his high-rise office and drove to the hospital. The direct route he took reminded him of the times in weeks past that he’d traveled that same stretch of road on his way to see Zach