The Princess and the Cowboy. Lois Faye DyerЧитать онлайн книгу.
her chubby little legs and feet left damp spots on Lily’s shorts. The toddler’s coal-black hair clung to her cheeks and nape in damp curls. Her green eyes were framed with thick black lashes, and when she smiled at him, a dimple flashed in her cheek next to a rosebud mouth.
The toddler had Lily’s eyes. And his hair and dimple.
He dragged his gaze from the little girl and met Lily’s. Emotions chased across her expressive features—surprise replaced by a swift look of guilt that was quickly banished by the defiant lift of her chin.
Then she slammed the door shut.
Chapter Two
Shock held Justin paralyzed for one stunned moment before he pounded on the door panels. “Lily!”
“Go away!”
“Open the door or I’ll keep this up until your neighbors call the cops.”
The door flew open. “What do you want?” she demanded.
“Let me in.”
“No.”
“Do you really want to have this conversation on your doorstep?” he asked grimly.
Her gaze flickered over his shoulder and a small, forced smile lifted the corners of her mouth. She waved. “Hi, Mrs. Baker. Nice evening, isn’t it?” She stepped back and held the door wide. “Come in,” she hissed at Justin.
The moment he stepped over the threshold, she closed the door and quickly moved farther into the room to put space between them.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“I’m in town. I wanted to say hello,” Justin said almost absently, shock still gripping him. He couldn’t take his eyes off the little girl. “What’s her name?”
“Ava.” Lily gathered the toddler closer, her stance protective. “You’ve said hello, now I want you to leave.”
“Oh, no.” He shook his head. He wasn’t sure of much, since his brain felt as if it had been scrambled by a bolt of lightning, but he did know he wasn’t leaving. Not yet. “Not until you tell me about Ava. She’s mine, isn’t she.” It wasn’t a question. He was convinced he knew what Lily’s answer would be, but he wanted, needed, to hear her say the words.
“No, she’s not yours. She’s mine.”
“Mama.” Ava patted Lily’s cheek, demanding her attention. “Mine Mama.”
“Yes, sweetie, I’m your mama. And you’re my very best girl, aren’t you.”
Ava threw her arms around Lily’s neck and hugged her enthusiastically. Then she laid her head on her mother’s shoulder and smiled beatifically at Justin.
His heart stuttered and he couldn’t help smiling helplessly back at her.
“She’s mine,” he said softly, but with rock-solid conviction.
“You contributed DNA, but that doesn’t make her yours.”
Lily’s vehement words were more denial than confirmation, but Justin’s heart leapt just the same. He’d felt numb for the last two years, and the pound of his heart in his chest after so long was startling.
“I want you to leave,” Lily said quietly.
“We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t. There’s nothing to discuss. Ava and I have a life. You’re not part of it. Go away.” Her voice was a shade less quiet, and a faint tremor shook her.
Ava’s smile disappeared. She looked from Justin to her mother, then back again, her little face concerned. “Mama?”
“Please go. This is upsetting Ava.”
“All right, I’ll leave.” Justin kept his voice even, his tone mild. “But we have to talk. I’ll call you at the shop in the morning.”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she merely nodded, then walked to the door and held it open, closing it silently behind him.
Lily stared at the door. She was shaking, tremors of shock and anger rippling in waves from her midsection through to her arms and into her fingertips. She’d never expected Justin to show up on her doorstep. He must have known Meggie was lying to him when he’d telephoned and then dropped by the shop.
There had to be dozens of women listed in his little black book who would be delighted to take his calls. Why did he have to come looking for her? If she’d thought there was any possibility he wouldn’t move on to greener pastures after he was unable to reach her earlier, she would have been more careful. She certainly wouldn’t have opened her front door with Ava in her arms.
Lily squeezed her eyes shut, trying to erase the image of him standing on her doorstep. He wore polished black cowboy boots, and worn Levi’s covered his long legs and powerful thighs. His pale blue cotton shirt screamed designer-label and she was sure the gold watch on his wrist was a Rolex. When he’d smiled at Ava, dimples dented the tanned skin of his cheeks. With his coal-black hair, piercing blue eyes and muscled body, honed by jogging and long hours working on the Idaho ranch he loved, Justin Hunt was every woman’s dream.
Except mine, she thought fiercely. Justin Hunt is my own personal nightmare. And contrary to her assumptions, he seemed entranced by Ava. The possibility that he might have wanted to know she’d become pregnant with his baby was unacceptable. And frankly terrifying. She shuddered, unwilling to consider that she might have misjudged him.
Ava wiggled, babbling a protest, and Lily realized she was clutching her too tightly.
“I’m sorry, honey,” she crooned, brushing a kiss against the toddler’s quickly drying curls. “Mama didn’t mean to scrunch you.” She shifted Ava higher, the little body a warm, reassuring weight against her chest. “Let’s go put your jammies on and find a book to read before your bedtime, okay?”
Ava responded with her own babbled version of English, her unintelligible sentences liberally sprinkled with “Mama.”
Lily distracted herself with Ava’s nighttime rituals of donning pajamas and reading two Sandra Boynton books with Lily, then she dimmed the lights for fifteen minutes of cuddling in the rocking chair before tucking the sleepy little girl into her crib.
But when she went back downstairs, the house quiet about her, there was no escaping the flood of memories Justin’s visit had caused.
One rainy evening a little over two years ago, Justin had walked into a florist’s shop in downtown Seattle. She’d been there, ordering flowers to cheer a hospitalized friend. While he’d waited to give the clerk his order, they’d chatted. The attraction between them was instant and mutual. They’d flirted, then went next door to share dinner, after which she’d refused his offer of a ride and driven herself home. It wasn’t until the next day that she’d made the connection between his name and the huge HuntCom corporation that was a Seattle household word.
When he’d called and asked her out that afternoon, she’d told him she wasn’t sure she should date one of the playboy Hunt brothers, but he’d laughed and charmed her into agreeing to meet him.
With Justin, she’d broken every rule she’d ever had about caution with men in relationships. She’d let her heart overrule her head and had swiftly fallen head over heels in love with him. He was handsome, sexy, charming and very, very rich. But she’d never indulged in casual sex. Nevertheless, he’d quickly overwhelmed her reservations and within a week, they were sleeping together. Once in his bed, she was committed. When he’d abruptly broken off their relationship, she’d been devastated.
The night he told her goodbye over dinner, she’d been so stunned by his words she hadn’t responded, had been incapable of speech. She’d managed to stand, leave the restaurant and catch a cab for home.
She didn’t leave her house for a week, grappling with heartbreak. Then