His Summer Bride. Joanna NeilЧитать онлайн книгу.
about where she was going to spend the night and how she was going to get there. Did towns this size have rental car offices? she wondered. At least she still had her credit card in her purse so she wasn’t exactly penniless. And there was the legacy from her father. She’d call the lawyer who’d handled her father’s estate first thing in the morning and ask him to wire some money to her.
“Is there anyone you want to call?” Nick probed.
“No,” Gina said shortly, having no intention of telling him why. The story of her life to date made her sound like a fool. But then, maybe she was, she thought glumly. First her mother had used her love to manipulate her, and then some thief had stolen her car. She wasn’t exactly batting a thousand.
Nick digested the uncompromising negative, wondering what she was running from. The frustrated pain in her voice certainly suggested something.
“It’s going to take a while for you to get things straightened out,” Nick said slowly as an idea burst fullblown into his mind, the brilliance of it momentarily stunning him. “In the meantime, I think we could be of use to each other. You’ll need a place to stay, and I could use a temporary housekeeper.”
He gestured with his cast. “With my right hand out of commission, I can’t do much, and what little I can do with my left, I do slowly and badly. Not only that, but I’ve had enough of Bill’s chili to last me a lifetime. Being my temporary housekeeper would give you a place to stay until you sort things out, and would give me a clean house and a few meals,” he said, hoping his explanation sounded credible.
He hadn’t hired a housekeeper already because he hadn’t wanted a stranger intruding on his privacy, but the thought of Gina sharing his house filled him with anticipation.
Gina swallowed against the sudden spurt of excitement that short-circuited her breathing. Surely he couldn’t be offering her a job? At his house? Just the two of them? Alone together?
“Have you done any housekeeping?” he asked her.
“If you mean as a job, no. But I can certainly clean and cook,” she said absently, her mind busily considering his unexpected offer.
She knew full well she should refuse. Prudence demanded it. She might be monstrously attracted to this man, but she didn’t know him well enough to share a house with him.
But the people in the bar did. She remembered how someone in the back had greeted him by name and what the waitress had said about having known Nick all his life. If he had had any unsavory tendencies, surely his neighbors would know about them and react to him accordingly. Secrets were impossible to keep in a small town, weren’t they?
Not only that, but his offer made a great deal of sense. They both had something the other needed. And it would be a wonderful chance to practice relating to a sexy man, she reminded herself.
Strangely enough, the fact that he really needed a housekeeper depressed her. It would have been nice to have thought that Nick was so attracted to her that he was creating the job as an excuse to keep her around. But just because he wasn’t initially attracted to her didn’t mean that she might not grow on him, she assured herself.
Gina felt a sudden flush warm her cheeks at the thought of where she’d like to grow on him. Dangerous, her common sense chided her. A man like Nick Balfour could destroy a woman’s peace of mind. But what a way to go, her emotions countered.
“What kind of work do you do?” she asked in an attempt to find out a little more about him.
Nick frowned slightly. He didn’t want to lie to her, but on the other hand, he didn’t want to tell her the truth, either. Invariably, whenever he mentioned that he was a thoracic surgeon to an attractive woman, he got one of two reactions. Either they saw dollar signs and started sizing him up as a potential husband who could afford to indulge their tastes for luxury, or they launched into a recital of medical symptoms—either their own or someone else’s.
He didn’t want either of those reactions from Gina. He wanted her to see him as a man, without the accompanying baggage of his profession confusing the issue.
Gina watched as his face hardened into a reserved mask, wondering what had caused it. Her question? Had it embarrassed him? Could he have a humdrum, gonowhere type of job and think she might look down on him because of it?
“I’m a technician,” Nick finally said, remembering what one of his more acerbic professors had once said about surgeons. “And I have to have complete mobility in my right hand to work. So for the time being, I’m just marking time while my bone knits. Speaking of jobs, are you on vacation?” he slipped the question in.
“No, I was a data-entry clerk in Chicago. I got fed up with the same old routine and decided I wanted a change. I’d always wanted to see New England in the fall, so here I am,” Gina said.
There was more to her leaving her job than that, Nick decided as he watched the shadows darken her eyes. Something or someone had hurt her very badly to send her running this far.
“Think of my offer as a chance to see the fall foliage up close and in depth.” Nick carefully kept his voice casual. He didn’t want to scare her off with too many questions. For some reason it was becoming increasingly important to him that she stay.
“But I don’t really know you. You could be an ax murderer for all I know,” she blurted.
“The sheriff will vouch for me,” Nick countered.
“You can ask him for a character reference when we report your car stolen.”
Uncertainly, Gina studied the calm, gray depths of his eyes, unsure of what to do. All her life she’d done what was expected of her. What was conventional. Maybe it was time to do what she wanted to. To follow her feelings where they led, and to hell with caution.
Gina took a deep breath and said, “Thank you. I’ll take the job until I can get everything sorted out.”
Chapter Two
“Well, that about covers it, Ms. Tessereck. I’ll get on to the state police with a description of your car,” said the rotund little man whom Nick had introduced as Chief Mygold.
“What do you think the chances are that they’ll find it?” Gina asked him.
He sighed and ran his pudgy fingers over his balding head. “Depends,” he finally said.
“On what?” she persisted, feeling as if she was pulling teeth.
“On who took it,” he said. “If it was a couple of kids who took it to go joyriding, then they’ll abandon it as soon as they’re done, and you should have it back in a day or two. But this being a Friday night don’t argue well for that scenario.”
Nick looked from Gina’s blank expression to the chief’s mournful one and said, “Well, if she won’t ask, I will. What does it being a Friday night have to do with anything?”
“The high school’s football team is playing an away game,” the chief said.
“And all the kids who might have pulled a stunt like that are at the game?” Gina deduced.
“Yep,” Chief Mygold said.
“Which narrows the list of suspects down to whom?” Nick asked.
“Someone who stole it to convert to cash. All your stuff being in the back seat would have only made it that much more tempting. You should never leave things lying in a car in plain sight,” the chief said.
“Sorry,” she muttered, trying not to show her annoyance at his attitude that this was all her fault. First she wanted to get her car back, and then she’d tell him what she thought of his “blame the victim” policy.
“You should have left your stuff at home,” the chief belabored the point.
“Ah, but I was running away from home,” Gina said.