Thirty Day Affair. Maureen ChildЧитать онлайн книгу.

      By the next evening, Keira was running on adrenaline. She’d hardly been able to sleep the night before; memories of Nathan Barrister and the feel of his hands on her had kept her tossing and turning through some pretty detailed fantasies that kept playing through her mind.

      Ridiculous, really. She knew the man would be here for only a month. She knew he wasn’t interested—he’d made that plain enough every time he looked at her. But, for some reason, her body hadn’t gotten the message.

      She felt hot and itchy and…way more needy than she’d like to admit.

      Apparently it had been way too long since she’d had a man in her life. But then, the last man she’d been interested in had made such a mess of her world that she’d pretty much sworn off the Y chromosome.

      Then grumpy, rich and gorgeous Nathan Barrister, rolled into her life and made her start rethinking a few things. Not a good idea.

      She spun her straw through her glass of iced tea and watched idly as ice cubes rattled against the sides of the glass. It felt good to sit down. She’d been running all day, first calling an emergency meeting of the town council so she could tell them about Nathan’s donation. And, she smiled as she remembered, Eva Callahan had behaved as expected, slumping into a chair and waving a stack of papers at her face to stave off a faint.

      Once the meeting was over she’d had to take care of a few other things, like depositing that check, talking to the contractor about the renovations to the clinic, settling a parking dispute between Harry’s Hardware and Frannie’s Fabrics and finally, coming here to the Lakeside Diner.

      Being mayor of a small town was exhausting, and it was really hardly more than an honorary office. Her duties consisted mainly of presiding over town council meetings once a month, playing referee to adults old enough to solve their own problems and trying to raise money for civic projects. And yet, she seemed to always be busy. She didn’t have a clue how the mayors of big cities managed to have a life at all.

      But then, Keira thought, isn’t that the way she wanted it? Keeping busy gave her too little time to think about how her life had turned out so differently from what she’d expected. She picked a French fry off her plate and popped it into her mouth. Chewing, she glanced around the crowded diner and took a deep breath. Here, no matter what else was going on in her life, Keira could find comfort.

      The Lakeside Diner was a tiny coffee shop and more or less a touchstone in Keira’s life, the one constant she’d always been able to count on. Her parents had owned and operated the diner before her and she herself had started working here, clearing tables, when she was twelve.

      Then, when her parents died, Keira had taken over, because there was her younger sister, Kelly, to provide for. Now, she had a manager to take care of the day-today running of the diner, but when she needed a place to sit and recharge, she always came here.

      The red Naugahyde booths were familiar, as was the gleaming wood counter and the glass covered cake and pie dishes, the records in the jukebox her father had loved hadn’t been changed in twenty years. Memories crowded thick in this diner. She closed her eyes and could almost see her dad behind the stove, grinning out at her mom running the cash register.

      This diner—like Hunter’s Landing—was home.

      “Hey, Keira. Can I see it?”

      She opened her eyes, startled as an older woman slid onto the bench seat opposite her. Sallye Carberry grinned, and held out one hand dotted with silver rings.

      “See what?” Keira asked.

      “The check, of course,” Sallye prompted. “Everyone in town is talking about it. Margie Fontenot told me that she’d never seen anything quite so pretty as all those zeros. I just wanted an up close peek at it.”

      “Sorry, Sallye,” Keira said, taking a sip of her tea. “Already deposited it.”

      “Well, darn.” The older woman slumped back against the seat and huffed out a disappointed breath that waved the curl of bangs on her forehead. “That’s a bummer.”

      Keira laughed.

      Sallye waved one beringed hand. “That’s okay, I’ll settle for meeting the man himself. I hear he’s a real looker. He is coming to the potluck so we can all get a look at him—I mean thank him—isn’t he?”

      There was the question.

      She knew damn well Nathan wouldn’t want anything to do with the town or their potluck dinner. She knew he didn’t want their thanks and was pretty sure he wouldn’t want to see her again any time soon. So anyone with a grain of sense would keep her distance, right?

      The last thing she should do was go back to the lakeside mansion to see a man who wanted nothing to do with her.

      And yet…

      Keira checked her silver wristwatch, saw she had a couple of hours until six and took one last sip of her tea. Sliding from the booth, she looked down at her late mother’s best friend and nodded. “He’ll be there,” she said firmly.

      Three

      Nathan felt like a prisoner.

      And damn it, he shouldn’t.

      He preferred being alone.

      But this kind of alone was too damned quiet.

      He stepped out onto the deck overlooking Lake Tahoe and let the cold wind buffet him. His hair lifted in the icy breeze, and he narrowed his eyes as he stared out over a snowy landscape. Silence pounded at him. Even the soft sigh of the lake water slapping against the deck pilings seemed overly loud in the eerie stillness.

      The problem was, Nathan thought, he wasn’t used to this kind of alone. Other people considered him a recluse but, even in his insular world, there was more…interaction.

      He traveled constantly, moving from one of his family’s hotels to the next. And on those trips he dealt with room service personnel, hotel managers, maids, waiters, the occasional guest. No matter how he tried to avoid contact with people, there were always some who he was forced to speak to.

      Until now.

      The plain truth was he hated being completely alone even more than he hated being in a crowd.

      His fists tightened on the varnished wood railing until he wouldn’t have been surprised to see the imprint of his fingers digging into the wood. He was used to people jumping when he spoke. To his employees practically doing backflips to accommodate his wishes. He liked dropping in on his favorite casino in Monte Carlo and spending the night with whatever blonde, brunette or redhead was the most convenient. He liked the sounds of champagne bottles popping and crystal clinking, and the muted sound of sophisticated laughter. He was accustomed to picking up a phone and ordering a meal. To calling his pilot to get his jet ready to leave at a moment’s notice.

      Yet now he knew he couldn’t go anywhere.

      And that was the real irritant chewing at him. Nathan hadn’t stayed in any one place for more than three or four days since he was a kid. Which was exactly how he wanted it. Knowing that he was trapped on top of this damned mountain for a damned month was enough to make him want to call his pilot now.

      Why he didn’t was a mystery to him.

      “Hunter, you really owe me big time,” he said and didn’t know whether to look toward heaven or hell as he uttered the words.

      Hunter Palmer had been a good guy, but reaching out from beyond the grave to put Nathan through this should have earned him a seat in hell.

      “Why did I come here in the first place?” he whispered, asking himself the question and knowing he didn’t have an answer.

      Old loyalties was not a good enough reason.

      It has been ten years since