Kitabı oku: «Twin Ties, Twin Joys: The Boss's Double Trouble Twins / Twins for a Christmas Bride / Baby Twins: Parents Needed»

Twin Ties,

Twin Joys

The Boss’s Double Trouble Twins Raye Morgan

Twins For A Christmas Bride Josie Metcalfe

Baby Twins: Parents Needed Teresa Carpenter

www.millsandboon.co.uk

The Boss’s Double Trouble Twins

Raye Morgan

Dear Reader,

A tough guy from an old romance showing up on your doorstep, a past in Paris, a present in Texas, and a pair of adorable twins in your life—sometimes I wish I didn’t just write these things. How fun to actually live them!

On second thought, the emotional highs and lows would surely wear me out pretty quickly. Much better to read about them than try to untangle them in your own life. That is exactly what makes fiction so much fun!

I hope you enjoy the ups and downs of the romance of Darcy Connors and Mitch Carver. Love those Texas guys!

Happy reading!

Raye Morgan

About the Author

RAYE MORGAN is a fool for romance—even in her own family. With four grown sons, love, or at least heavy-duty friendship, is constantly in the air. Two sons have recently married—that leaves two more to go, and lots of romantic turmoil to feed the idea machine. Raye has published over seventy romances and claims to have many more waiting in the wings. Though she’s lived in Holland, Guam and Washington, DC, she currently makes her home in Southern California with her husband and the occasional son. When not writing, she can be found feverishly working on family genealogy and scrap-booking. So many pictures—so little time!

To the harried but happy mothers of twins everywhere.

CHAPTER ONE

MITCH CARVER hesitated as he came into the bright, shiny new chrome and glass office he’d been assigned. Everything in him was rebelling. How many times had he vowed he would never work here in his family’s company? And yet, here he was.

He swore softly to himself, looking at the huge desk, the sleek computer, the neatly stacked books—the shackles of a businessman’s life. And then he caught sight of himself in the reflection from the floor-to-ceiling window. He was wearing a suit, for God’s sake. The hair that was usually long and untamed, the better to let him slip unnoticed into life on the wild side, had been trimmed short and neat. The beard and mustache were gone. It had been years since he’d looked so conventional. And he hated it.

“You win again, Dad,” he muttered dryly. But only for one year. That was all he’d promised.

A sound turned his head. It was coming from what he assumed must be his new executive lounge. He stared at the closed door. He’d been told this entire floor was empty—a clean slate he was to fill with his own entrepreneurial genius, such as it was. Something—or someone—had been overlooked. There seemed to be humming going on.

A feminine voice sang out, low and bluesy.

Mitch cocked an eyebrow. This was interesting. The voice was incredibly sexy.

Then her voice trailed off as though she’d forgotten the words.

He bit back a grin. There was definitely a woman in his brand-new washroom. A stowaway. Maybe a squatter. And if she looked anything like she sounded … The hair on his arms was bristling—always a good sign.

Surely she hadn’t been left here on purpose, just for him. But you never did know. This bore looking into and was certainly more interesting than any business he was going to be conducting today.

“Hello,” he called out.

There was no answer, but suddenly a weird hush hung in the air.

“Who’s there?” he tried again.

Nothing. He frowned. He couldn’t leave it at that.

“I’m coming in,” he warned, waited a moment for a response, then tried the door. It opened to his touch and there stood a young woman, dripping wet and naked except for a fat, fluffy towel, which was slipping precariously.

“Hey!” she cried, reaching quickly to stop the towel’s impending dive toward the cold tile floor.

“You!” he said in turn, wondering for a fraction of a second if he was dreaming. This was a face, after all, that had haunted his sleep for months a year or so ago. A face—and a body—he couldn’t forget, even while slogging his way through the Brazilian rain forest or trekking past the hidden villages that dotted the foothills of the Himalayas. He’d known her for how long? Less than forty-eight hours. And yet, out of all the women he’d ever met, she’d stuck in his thoughts like … like the refrain of a low, bluesy song you couldn’t get out of your mind.

Yeah, he told himself cynically. A guilty conscience will do that to you.

Guilty for treating a woman such as this like a one-night-stand. Guilty for seducing a woman whose relationship to an old friend had never been made exactly clear. Guilty for letting a strong attraction take over and push away all concerns about anything but his own raging desire. He could try to blame it on the exotic intoxication of a Paris night, but he knew very well it had been his own fault. She’d bewitched him, but he’d asked for it.

“Mitch Carver?” she said, dark eyes wide with shock.

He grimaced. The feeling was mutual. No one liked to face a reminder of his own weakness.

“Darcy Connors,” he recalled, noting her confirmation as she nodded, looking numb. “Did I get the wrong office?” he asked her quizzically. “Or are you just passing through?”

She was still staring at him as though she were seeing a ghost.

He shrugged. “Never mind. I’m always happy to share with an old … uh … friend,” he said, silently cursing himself for hesitating before the word. “Carry on. I’ll just go and …”

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, clutching the towel up to her chin. “I thought you said you’d never come back to Texas.”

He wasn’t any happier to see her than she was to see him, but he was beginning to feel she was overdoing it a bit. The tragic look she was giving him was hardly fair. After all, he wasn’t an ax murderer or anything like that.

“I’ve said a lot of things I shouldn’t have in my time,” he admitted. “Things change. Sometimes you’ve got to eat a little crow. See this?” He gestured toward his mouth. “Covered with feathers at the moment. That was one tough bird.”

She frowned as though she was still too surprised at seeing him to get his little joke. He took in all of her, the dripping hair, the shimmering drops on her thick eyelashes, the creamy skin and those long, lovely, silky legs he remembered from that moonlit night.

That unforgettable moonlit night. For just a moment it flooded back, the soft air, the sound of water parting as the Bateau Mouche moved along the Seine, a distant jazz singer, notes from an accordion, lights making patterns against a set of statues, trees, wrought-iron balconies. She’d shivered slightly and he’d put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to keep off the chill. She’d curled up against him and whispered something and he’d laughed, catching her scent and turning….

Wow. Snap out of it, he told himself sharply, remembering exactly why this woman was so dangerous to him. For some reason she’d appealed to his senses in a basic, primal way he couldn’t ignore. And looking at her now, he knew nothing had changed. Everything about her seemed to tug at his libido.

And that just didn’t make any sense. She wasn’t his type at all. She had “happily ever after” written all over her. And he was a “here today, gone tomorrow” type of guy. Oil and water. They didn’t mix well and it was dangerous to try. At least that was the way it was in his world.

“So you’re not in France anymore,” he noted.

She stared at him so intensely, he almost took a step backward, and at the same time, he realized there was one thing that had changed. She’d fallen for him that night just as hard as he’d tumbled for her. He’d seen it in her eyes, felt it in every move she made. But that was all gone now. Her gaze was wary and speculative. Her body language was defensive. She looked like a woman who expected to be under attack. And she definitely wished he hadn’t shown up on her doorstep.

That triggered his curiosity. He knew why he wanted to stay away from her. But why did she want to stay away from him? Was she angry that he hadn’t tried to contact her in the last two years? Or did it have something to do with that same guilt he was feeling?

“No, I’m not in France anymore,” she admitted. “I transferred to Atlanta first, but they needed me here, so I packed up again and moved to the San Antonio area. And here I am, in Terra Dulce.”

Here she was. Which meant they were going to be working in near proximity for the next year. He nodded, not really sure why that gave him such a feeling of foreboding. After all, when you came right down to it, they hardly knew each other. Just because they’d shared that one night in Paris didn’t mean they had to be buddies. They didn’t have to see each other socially just because they had both landed back in the same town. They would probably just greet each other in the halls now and then and leave it at that. He wasn’t going to be here all that long, anyway. Keep it casual. That was the ticket.

“I heard about what happened to Jimmy,” he said softly, mentioning the friend whose Paris apartment was the place he and Darcy had met. Jimmy had been killed in a race car incident just days after Mitch had left France for Brazil. “Sorry I didn’t hear in time to make the funeral.”

She looked nonplussed for a moment, then nodded.

He could have said more. He could have explained that he was in a South American jail about the time Jimmy was being eulogized, not sure if he was going to make it out alive himself. Of course, he obviously had been released. The odd time in various jails was just one of the minor drawbacks of his chosen line of work. But that seemed a bit much to lay on her at the moment.

Jimmy had been their tie, and at the same time, what might now stand between them. Mitch and Jimmy had been childhood friends. They’d lost touch after high school, but he’d heard that Jimmy was working in Paris, and when he was passing through, he’d looked him up. He’d found his old friend changed and a bit distant, but he’d also found Darcy. She was living with Jimmy but it was never clear to him just what their relationship was, and he had to admit, he hadn’t really wanted to know. She had seemed eager to get out of the tiny, cramped apartment so the two of them had left Jimmy behind and taken in the sights and sounds of the French city. Very quickly it had been as though Jimmy didn’t exist. For the next day and a half, they had been so wrapped up in each other, nothing else seemed to matter.

“He was a great guy,” he said gruffly.

She winced, then nodded again, biting her lip. “Yes. It was a shame.” But after a moment, she was issuing a significant look his way. “Do you mind?” she said, nodding toward her towel.

“Oh. Sure. Sorry.” He started to close the door, then stopped. “Wait a minute. You haven’t told me what you’re doing here. I thought this was my new office.”

She blinked at him, searching for words. “I … uh …” She shrugged helplessly. “I was the victim of an industrial accident. One of our financial department geniuses dumped his café latte on me.”

He stared at her. “From head to toe?” he asked, noting her wet hair.

She nodded. “He was on the second floor catwalk and I was down in the lobby….”

“Okay. I get the picture.” He couldn’t resist a quick grin. “He must have been really mad at you.”

She opened her mouth, obviously to protest his characterization of the incident, but he held up a hand. “Never mind. I’ll leave you to your grooming tasks. Nice to see you again, Darcy.”

She’d been turning away but her head snapped back around at that, as though she thought she might have caught a joking reference to her too-revealing appearance and she glared as he quickly closed the door.

Once outside, he stopped for a moment, like a man checking out his body parts after a risky maneuver. Everything was still in one piece. Everything, that was, except his peace of mind. It looked like he was going to have Darcy Connors back in his life, one way or another. And that was something he hadn’t counted on. When he’d agreed to come back and work in his family’s company he had assumed Darcy was still in Paris. It hadn’t occurred to him that she might be working at the home office.

He took a deep breath and told himself things would be different. He wasn’t passing through on his way to danger and adventure this time. He had other things on his mind and a better perspective. He wasn’t going to let a provocative woman tangle up his emotions. He would keep his libido in check.

But damn! It wasn’t going to be easy. There was something about that woman that appealed to him in ways he didn’t understand. And that low, sexy voice just knocked him out. It appealed to him in ways he understood too well.

Steady, he warned himself.

Straightening his tie, he started for the elevator. He didn’t want to be standing here waiting when she emerged.

Darcy was in shock. Mitch Carver was back. The man who had been unreachable, unfindable and unfathomable for the last two years was suddenly back and very much available, and that meant she was finally going to have to do what she’d been unable to do all this time—tell him about the twins.

Of course she had to tell him. But … A feeling very like panic fluttered in her chest. Yes, she was going to tell him, but not right now. She wasn’t ready. She hadn’t prepared. She’d pretty much accepted that it might never be possible to tell him. And now, suddenly, it was. So how was she going to do this?

She groaned, her shoulders slumping. If only she’d had some warning. Lately it seemed everything came at her so fast, she was never ready. And that meant she always seemed to do the wrong thing. Like this morning. Knowing the office was empty and unused, she’d been sure she would have time for a quick shower before anyone even noticed her missing from her desk on the second floor. And what happened? Mitch Carver showed up to catch her at it. Of all people! She’d never dreamed that could happen.

When she’d heard a Mr. Carver was coming in to take over Property Acquisitions, she’d assumed it was Craig Carver, Mitch’s cousin, who she’d heard was transferring from the Dallas branch of the family firm. She’d never met Craig. Unfortunately she couldn’t say the same about Mitch.

Closing her eyes, she swayed in silent agony. How was she going to do this? How was she going to tell this man she barely knew that he was the father of her two children? That what had seemed like a romantic interlude, a chance encounter, a fleeting intimacy, had turned into a lifetime commitment? One mistake, one night of letting down her legendary guard, a one-time retreat from a lifetime of caution, and she was destined to pay the price forever. And so was he.

Not that her babies weren’t worth it. She couldn’t even think about them without smiling. They were her joy, her life. But their father was her dilemma and her complication. And now she had to tell this man who had made no secret of his determination never to settle down, never to live a conventional life, that he had a pair of anchors, whether he liked it or not.

She knew he wouldn’t be happy about it. Would he hate her? Hate them? It was clear he wouldn’t want to let anything as mundane as children get in the way of his work. She wasn’t real clear on just what he did out there in the world. She had the impression he went where people paid for his services, but she was also pretty sure he spent more time using his brain than his brawn. Nevertheless, there was plenty of danger involved, and she knew from what he’d told her that the excitement was intoxicating to him. He loved it. So what was he doing here?

A speedy wipe-down with the towel and then she was slipping into the fresh clothes her friend Marty had supplied: a jersey top and a cute denim skirt. Both were a little large for her slim figure, but they would do.

She rolled the soggy dress she’d worn to work that day in the towel, fluffed her shoulder-length blond hair under the wall hair dryer for a few minutes and peeked out into the office to see who was there.

No one. Super. In just moments she was back on her own floor, her own desk in her sights, when someone called from behind.

“Hey, Darcy!”

It was Kevin, he of the errant café latte. She kept walking, but he caught up with her.

“Hey, I really, really am sorry.”

He looked sorry. He was young and bright and he seemed to have something of a crush on her, but he certainly did look sorry.

“Forget it,” she said shortly, reaching out to pick up the papers filling her in-box.

“Really Darcy, it was an accident. I just leaned over the rail to look at you and the cup slipped and …”

“Sure, Kevin. I understand. Don’t think another thing about it.” She began riffling through the papers, though she didn’t see a thing. She was wondering where Mitch was—mainly so that she could avoid him. She needed time to think.

“I’d love to make it up to you, Darcy,” Kevin was saying, looking puppy-dog hopeful. “I thought maybe I could take you out to …”

Kevin’s suggested destination was to remain forever unknown. Before he got the name out, the elevator doors across from her office opened and Bill Monroe, her amiable boss, stepped into their conversation.

“My office, Darcy,” he said, cocking a stern forefinger her way. “Right now.”

“But …” She glanced at the clock on the wall over the elevator. “I really don’t have time this morning. I’m running a little late and I’ve got people waiting for some research I’ve been doing and—”

“Forget that,” Bill said flatly. “I need to talk to you right away.”

There was a grim look on his normally jovial face as he headed for his office. Kevin shrugged dejectedly and disappeared down the stairs. Darcy sighed, stowed her things away and looked up to find Mitch coming toward her.

“Oh, hi,” she said awkwardly. It gave her quite a start to have him casually turning up where she wasn’t used to seeing him. It also gave her an opportunity to really look at him, and for a moment, that was what she did.

He looked so different, it was a wonder she’d recognized him right away. She flashed back to that weekend in Paris and what he’d looked like then. She’d been sharing a small place with Jimmy ever since she’d arrived in Paris. Apartments were impossible to find in the area near where they both worked at the same company. Their mothers had been best friends, so they’d known each other forever, and it had seemed only natural to share a place.

When she’d heard that Mitch was dropping by, she’d had a few seconds of excitement before she’d reminded herself that he wasn’t coming to see her. He probably didn’t even remember who she was. So when the doorbell had rung, she’d gone to let him in, not expecting much but pleased to be seeing someone from home. Opening the door, she’d found him standing there and her world had fallen out of the sky.

He’d been completely wild, totally exotic, like a fictional hero. His hair was a long, thick tangle framing his outrageously handsome face. His body had been spectacularly displayed in a tight, clinging shirt and torn jeans that molded to his muscular legs like something that had grown to cover him. He was reeking with attitude and looked like a young freedom fighter, a rebel, a revolutionary, ducking in out of the street to evade a pursuer. Even now, the memory of how provocatively fine he’d looked took her breath away.

She’d fallen for him like a ton of bricks, right there in the doorway to Jimmy’s tiny flat. Not that it should have been surprising. After all, even though she hadn’t seen him for years, she’d had a crush on him since she’d been a child. Of course, he’d never noticed her in those days.

Only, this time he did.

“Hey,” he’d said, looking deep into her eyes. “Hey yourself,” she’d said back, looking dreamily into his.

“What’s your name?” he’d asked, proving her theory.

“Darcy,” she’d responded, just as glad he didn’t remember the awkward girl who’d mooned after him in the old days.

“I’m Mitch.”

“I know.”

He’d smiled and she’d swooned toward him.

“Want to run away with me?” he asked her softly, leaning even closer.

She’d nodded without hesitation, knowing it was just banter, but answering in all sincerity. “Yes,” she whispered.

His gaze had seemed to devour her hungrily and for one long moment, she’d lost herself in his blue eyes.

“Hey, Mitch,” Jimmy had called out from the kitchen. “You finally got here.”

And she’d pulled back, thinking the moment was over, that the relationship between the two men would be the focus of the rest of the day. But she’d been wrong. The magic that had sparked between them didn’t fade. As soon as they got the chance, they’d gone out into the city together, and things had gone from pure delight to rapture.

At first she’d looked on that exciting weekend as a mistake, but one that was just too delicious to really regret—a romantic episode she would treasure forever. It seemed the kind of thing you read about in books or saw in movies. He’d come into her life at just the moment she had felt most lost and lonely and reminded her of what joy in living could be like—and then he’d gone.

And then she’d realized she was pregnant.

She watched as he approached her now, looking so clean-cut and handsome—not a rebel at all. But she knew that exciting body still lay under the suit coat and hints of that crazy untamed spirit still lurked in his eyes if you looked hard enough. The packaging had changed, but he was still the same guy.

Was she still the same girl? Not on your life.

CHAPTER TWO

“WHAT are you doing on this floor?” Darcy asked for lack of anything better to say.

Mitch shrugged. “I got a message from Bill Monroe.” He noted the startled look on her face in reaction to that news. “You, too?”

She nodded. A feeling of dread was beginning to build inside her. If this was what she thought it might be …

He inclined his head. “Lead on, McDuff,” he muttered.

She bit her lip and led the way into her boss’s office. Bill rose and shook hands with Mitch, murmuring a greeting. Still standing, he got to the point.

“Darcy, I hate to lose you. But you’ve been assigned to the new department Mitch will be heading.”

She blanched, though by now she’d been expecting this very thing. “What?” She shook her head.

Surely this wasn’t written in stone yet. “No.” She turned to Mitch appealingly. “No!” Surely he would do something to stop this.

And he looked as though he wanted to. “Interesting,” he said. “But there’s been some mistake. You see, I won’t need an assistant. I’ve already got a secretary picked out and—”

“Darcy isn’t a secretary. She’s a property analyst. And her area of expertise resides smack dab in the center of your new project.” Bill dropped an armful of folders on the desk as though that settled the matter. “You can take these with you.”

Darcy’s heart sank. That meant Mitch was taking over the Bermuda Woods development. She’d been working on that one for months. There was no way she was going to get out of this, was there? She stared into Mitch’s eyes and he stared right back into hers. She’d forgotten how gorgeous those eyes were, deep blue and dangerous as the sky on a stormy day. Those eyes were the first thing that had intrigued her when she’d met him in Paris. She winced.

Don’t think about Paris, she told herself sharply. Not now.

“You know, I really can’t do this,” she said, looking at her boss brightly, giving it one last try. “I’ve got a desk full of work. Mr. Grayson is waiting for my report on the Clemson release.”

The older man glowered at her. “Sorry, Darcy,” he said stiffly. “You’ve been assigned to Mr. Carver. You can take it up with the board, but as far as HR is concerned, you’re working up there now.”

She swallowed hard and tried to smile. The man was droning on, giving Mitch some last-minute instructions on paperwork, but she wasn’t listening. This was disastrous. She couldn’t work for Mitch. She could barely look at him. Once he’d found out about the twins …

“They want these forms to be filled out before you leave this evening,” Bill was saying to Mitch. He sent a regretful look Darcy’s way. “I hate to see you go,” he told her, “but my loss is Mitch Carver’s gain.” He smiled at the younger man. “Her expertise is going to be invaluable to you. You’ll see that soon enough.”

Nice words, but she hardly heard them. She took up the folders and carried them back to her own desk, the one she was going to spend the day clearing out. Mitch came behind her.

“Want me to carry some of those on up for you?” he asked.

When she flashed him a look, he added, “Look, Darcy, I’m not any crazier about this than you are.”

She turned on him, thinking if that was really the case, he could have tried a little harder. “You ought to have some pull, being the boss’s son and all. Can’t you do something about this?”

He grimaced, raking fingers through his thick hair distractedly. “I’m pretty much in the position of the returning prodigal right now. I don’t have too many favors owed me. But I’ll see what I can do.”

“Good.” That seemed to be all she wrote as far as rays of hope were concerned. She didn’t think holding her breath until she turned blue would be effective at this point. “You’ve got to do something.”

“Do I?” Turning back toward her, he cocked an eyebrow.

“Yes. Of course. You know we can’t work together.” “Can’t we?”

He looked genuinely puzzled and she realized he had no clue why she might feel that way. Not yet, anyway. Once he knew about the twins, he would understand. She was going to tell him … just as soon as she figured out how.

But that was just the problem. She had no idea what his reaction would be. She knew he didn’t want a family. He’d been very clear on the point that night when it had seemed they were opening their hearts to each other. So he wasn’t likely to take this as good news. She’d assumed he would resent her dropping this bombshell in his lap—maybe even try to wriggle out of facing it. But he didn’t know about them yet, so why was he acting as though he wanted to keep distance between them as much as she did? She could think of only one possible reason—he was afraid she might want to resume their affair and he didn’t want any part of that.

Just the thought of that sparked a flash of anger, but she pushed it back. After all, wasn’t that exactly what she was feeling as well?

“I’ll do what I can,” he was saying, turning to go. “I’ll let you know.”

She nodded and watched as he strode toward the elevator.

“Who’s the hottie?” asked a voice at her elbow.

She started, then grinned feebly at Cindy, her officemate who had come up to stand beside her.

“Looks like he might be my new boss,” she said ruefully.

Cindy laughed, shaking back her thick, ebony hair. “Oh the agony of it all,” she said, amusement dancing in her green eyes. “Listen, I’m willing to take your place if it will make you feel better.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Darcy said, wishing that sort of trade was actually possible. But once she’d heard what Mitch’s assigned area would be, she knew she was on shaky ground for a transfer. This was her project. Getting him transferred would be more logical. And that hardly seemed likely.

Still, there had to be some way.

Mitch should have felt right at home in the sleek offices of ACW Properties. His grandfather had started the company sixty years ago. His father had been CEO of the San Antonio branch ever since he could remember. He’d played in these halls as a child, had part-time jobs here in high school, did a summer internship. And in those days, it had all seemed natural to him.

But his relationship with his father had been destroyed shortly after his freshman year at college. In reaction, he’d rejected every part of the life his family had expected him to follow. Coming back now had been a bitter pill to swallow. It had taken emotional blackmail to make him do it.

Now he was being escorted through the building by Tanya Gayle, the long and lanky director of Human Resources. She’d offered to give him a tour of all the new facilities and from her sideways glances, he had a feeling she was offering a lot more than that. Luckily, once he’d realized he wasn’t going to get out of it, he’d had the presence of mind to bring along Paula Pinter, his new secretary and the woman who had baby-sat for him here in the office as a child. There was nothing like the addition of a sweet, gray-haired older woman to tamp down the fires of office romance.

Tanya escorted him into the workout room as though she’d been personally responsible for it herself, explaining as she went how it was company policy that each employee take an extra fifteen minutes at lunch to get in some exercise.

“Really. Who made that decision?”

“Your father, I imagine.”

“No kidding.”

Mitch raised an eyebrow. That seemed a bit ironic, considering the way his father used to spend his lunch hours in the old days.

The Carvers had always been community leaders. To the outside world, they looked like an ideal family. But the public face had been in many ways a false one. Mitch and his brother Dylan spent part of their youth covering up the truth about their father’s drinking and the ugly fights that sometimes tore apart their homelife.

Pushing away bad memories, he glanced around the room, noting a full complement of employees in colorful workout uniforms. And then his eye was caught by Darcy on a treadmill. She had on earphones and was working hard, looking determined. He watched her for a moment. Paula noticed where his gaze was directed.

“That’s Darcy Connors,” she said helpfully. “She’s down here every day, a real role model to us all.”

“Yes, she’s worked hard to get back that trim and girlish figure,” Tanya chimed in. “And she’s done a great job. We’re all jealous.”

Mitch frowned. Get back her girlish figure? Where’d it gone? It had certainly been present when he’d known her before. He turned to ask Tanya what she meant, but Paula had pulled out a bright jersey tank top in the company colors with his name on it.

“Surprise!” they said in unison.

He swallowed his question and tried to look pleased.

“Put it on,” Paula urged.

“Right now? Right here?”

“Why not? Come on. We’ll see if it fits.”

He shrugged. Why not, indeed? He was here for the year and he might as well make the best of it. Fitting in with the crowd was part of that, he supposed. So instead of getting his exercise racing after bad guys in the jungle, he was going to get on machines, was he? Oh well. Yanking off his tie, he began working on the buttons of his shirt.

Darcy had developed the habit of spending most of her lunch hour on the treadmill. Not only did she get a good workout, but it also gave her the time and space to set her mind free and think things through. And today she had a lot to think about.

All the other machines were filled with other employees. She paid no attention to them, but when Mitch arrived in the room, somehow she sensed it. Biting her lip, she tried to stay focused and ignore him. But finally she had to turn her head, just in time to see him begin to pull off his crisp white shirt. She held her breath, and when she realized what she was doing, she closed her eyes for a moment, cursing softly.

When she opened them again, she saw that beautiful body and steeled herself. And then she saw something else. There across his chest was a jagged line of scarring that she knew hadn’t been there when she’d known him. It looked fiery and painful and she gasped so loud, heads turned all up and down the room. He looked up and her gaze locked with his, but only for seconds.

She stumbled on the treadmill, losing her pace and almost losing her balance, her heart beating wildly. That beautiful body and that ugly scar. His skin had been smooth and flawless when she’d last seen it, touched it. What on earth had happened to him?

She drew a deep breath, reminding herself she wasn’t going to let emotions tangle up her life again. Whatever had happened to him was none of her business. She had two babies to raise and protect and that was enough for her to deal with.

Turning up the mileage on the treadmill, she worked harder, hoping to blot out his presence on the other side of the room. But she was beginning to wonder if she was ever going to be free of him again. And suddenly her mind was full of what it had been like two years before, right after Mitch had left for South America.

She’d been walking on air. Of course he’d told her he wasn’t in the market for a lasting relationship, and she’d accepted that at the time. But something deep inside had whispered lies of wishful thinking to her. Those two days had been magic. She’d never known a man like Mitch, never felt the crazy excitement, the overwhelming affection, the deep and undeniable need she’d felt with him. They had been so good together. She knew he felt the same way. She knew he was just as reluctant to leave her as she had been to let him go. She’d been so sure he would contact her again, despite everything he’d said. How could two people fall madly into love for a weekend and then walk away without a backward glance? It just didn’t seem possible.

One week went by. Then another. She was still so sure that she would hear from him soon. With Jimmy totally wrapped up in his racing, spending every free moment at the track, and things at work more difficult than she’d ever expected, she felt very much alone. And then came the horrible afternoon when Jimmy’s Formula One car crashed during a practice run. He was rushed to the hospital and died later that night. Darcy had been the one to call his mother with the news—the one to accompany his body back to Texas, the one who supported his mother at the funeral. For days that was all she could think about.

And then she realized she was pregnant.

By then Mitch had seemed very far away. And when she couldn’t find him or get in touch with him, she began to resent him—as though he’d done this to her and then run out on his responsibilities. Again, it was like something out of a book or a movie, only now it had turned from romance to dark drama. A character study in male dependability.

She’d had her babies. She’d gone through it all alone. It wasn’t easy, but she was managing. And suddenly, he’d turned up again.

It was all wrong. Things weren’t happening in the right order. If only she’d been able to get hold of him right when she realized the babies were on the way. She knew he had no interest in being a father. He’d told her as much that night in Paris—and by the time she knew she was pregnant, she was ready to believe what he’d said was the last word after all. She wouldn’t have asked all that much of him. But at least he would have been moral support. She wouldn’t have had to make all the decisions on her own. There would have been someone to share things with, even if just in letters or phone calls.

Okay, she was starting to sound whiny now, even to herself. Enough. This was a situation, but she could handle it. She’d toughened a lot over the last two years. She’d handled everything up to now pretty well, hadn’t she? And she could do this, too.

Turning off the machine, she grabbed a towel, wiped her face, then threw it around her shoulders, turning to step off. And there was Mitch, waiting for her.

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t stop.

“Are you stalking me?” she asked, brushing past him and trying to ignore the lovely bulging muscles his company tank top revealed.

“I’d only be doing that if you were avoiding me,” he pointed out. “Are you?”

Turning back, she looked at him. Her first thought was that he had some nerve accusing her of being ellusive. He was the original Houdini in her life. But as her gaze met his, she felt her resentment melting. It was those huge blue eyes with those gorgeous dark lashes. She was a sucker for that look—always had been.

“No, of course not,” she said. And silently, she raged at herself. “Wimp!”

“Good. Because I think we need to talk. Why don’t you meet me in my office in half an hour?”

She nodded. This was it. Her heart was pounding. “Okay,” she said, then turned and marched toward the women’s locker room.

He was right. They did need to talk, about so many things. The question was, should she tell him now? Could she tell him now?

“We’ll play it by ear,” she told herself reassuringly as she slipped into her work clothes. But that was no good. She knew she was just giving herself an out that way. With a sigh, she rejected that and got back to business. There had to be a hundred different ways to broach the subject and get it over with. Why was it that she couldn’t think of any?

Focus! she ordered herself as she started walking back to her desk. Think! And once she started trying a little harder, ideas began to come to her. Not that any of them were any good. Still, she’d started the juices flowing.

There really were so many options. There was the blunt method. She could walk into his office, plunk a picture of the almost-fifteen-month-old twins down on the desk in front of him and say, “Look at these. See any resemblance?”

Dropping down into her chair, she made a face. A bit crass, perhaps. But it was a start. Leaning on her elbows, she frowned, deep in thought.

How about writing him a memo—make it businesslike? “Attention Mr. Carver: This memorandum is meant to inform you that you are the father of twins. Please deal with this situation immediately.”

She wrinkled her nose.

Well then, how about using the office loudspeaker? “Attention employees. All fathers of twins please meet with Darcy Connors in the conference room right away. Mitch Carver, this means you.”

A more subtle approach? “Uh, Mitch, you know when you left me in Paris? You didn’t just leave me. In fact, you left behind a legacy, and it’s been growing ever since.”

Too obscure. He would think she meant the Parisian waitresses were still talking about him. And they just might be, but that wasn’t the issue here.

She glanced at the clock and her heart jumped. She didn’t have much time left. She had to think of some way to do this, fast, and do it right. Closing her eyes, she tried to concentrate. Her twins deserved a father who didn’t completely reject them. And it was up to her to provide that for them. The way she approached this might make all the difference.

A few minutes later she was walking into his office and she still didn’t have a plan. She did have a rough idea of what she might say, but she didn’t get a chance to say it. Mitch rose from behind his desk to greet her, taking her hand in his and staring down into her eyes in a way that reminded her of how he’d looked in that Parisian doorway, blasting all thought right out of her mind and leaving only a thrilling electricity running through her veins and a bittersweet yearning in her heart.

“I’ve got to tell you right up-front, Darcy,” he said, not releasing her hand. “I’ve talked to a few people and there’s no chance to get your assignment changed. The only way we’re going to avoid working with each other is if one of us quits.”

She nodded numbly. She’d pretty much accepted that already. But he was still holding her hand and as long as he was doing that, her mind wasn’t going to work very well. She gave a tug, but he wasn’t letting go.

“I think I understand why you don’t think we should be working together,” he was saying earnestly. “But that’s just it—I agree. You don’t have anything to worry about. I swear, I’ll make sure everything stays on a businesslike level. We’ll work as colleagues and that will be it.”

“Good,” she said thickly. “Now can I have my hand back?”

He looked down and actually seemed startled to realize he was still holding it. “Oh. Sure. Sorry.”

He let go and she took a step back to get a bit of distance from him and settle her emotions. If just having her hand in his was going to send her into a tailspin, she was in big trouble. She had to get control of herself.

Taking a deep breath, she stared at his tie and tried to get it together. Now was the time. They had the privacy she needed. There was a pause in the conversation. It was the perfect opportunity. She ought to launch into a speech that would prepare him for the revelation. She tried to make herself do it. Looking up into his face, she searched for the words.

If not now, when? she prodded herself silently. Come on. Get it out there.

CHAPTER THREE

DARCY opened her mouth. Her lips actually formed a word. But as she gazed up into his clear blue eyes, she just couldn’t go through with it. The right words weren’t there yet. They weren’t coming to her.

“So what do you think?” Mitch asked, looking at her in the deep, probing way he had, that way that gave her the false feeling he saw only her, cared about only her, and would treasure her forever. “Can you work with me?”

“I … I don’t know,” she said, her voice sounding scratchy from the effort to speak at all. It was that intimate look that made her so crazy. She realized that now. She had to avoid his gaze at all costs. “That all depends. There’s something …”

“We’ll give it a try,” he said when she faltered. “I’m sure we can do it. And it’s only for one year.”

One year! In one year, the twins would be talking. Talking? They would be writing novels! They would be learning to catch a ball. They would be giving wet baby kisses to the ones who loved them. Would that include Mitch?

“One year?” she repeated numbly.

He nodded. “That’s all I’ve committed to. One year. And then I’m going back overseas.”

“I see.”

Well, wasn’t that just typical? Full commitment wasn’t his thing, was it? Resentment rose in her again.

“I… I guess I’m just surprised to see you working back here at all,” she noted distractedly. “The last I heard you were smuggling arms into Nepal or something.”

Amusement flashed across his handsome face. “Who told you that?”

“Someone at Jimmy’s funeral, I think.”

He shrugged, his gaze suddenly hooded. “He didn’t get it quite right. It wasn’t Nepal, and it wasn’t arms.”

“What was it?”

He paused just long enough to make her think whatever he said was going to be something he probably made up.

“It was rock concert T-shirts, into a country which shall remain nameless,” he said at last. “I do still have my Fifth Amendment rights.”

She barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes. “That you do, but you’re the only person I’ve ever known who actually feels he needs to use them,” she said a bit caustically.

“Actually we were just importing the shirts.” He paused, and then added softly, “And then ‘exporting’ a few political refugees.”

“I see.” She knew he was involved in dangerous things overseas. He’d told her a few hair-raising tales that night in Paris. And she was pretty sure the story behind that new ugly scar across his chest was going to fit right into one of those scenarios. “I guess you were just born to be a businessman, weren’t you?” she added wryly.

He laughed softly. “Of a sort.”

She bit her lip. Now that was something to keep in mind: Don’t make the man laugh. He looks too good doing it.

“So is that why you’re back?” she asked quickly. “Are you on the lam?” Where had that phrase come from? She didn’t know, but she kind of liked it. It fit. “Is Interpol after you? I guess you got tired of being shot at and decided to come home for a rest, huh?”

He groaned, sagging down into a leather chair and stretching his long legs out before him. “You watch too much television.”

“Then why did you come back?”

He looked up at her and smiled sweetly. “My mother asked me to.”

She stared at him. Because his mother asked him to? That didn’t fit in with the always-a-rebel, devil-may-care, to-hell-with-convention image she had of him. And now here he sat in a suit and tie—looking like he was ready to take the business world by storm. It seemed his mother had a bigger influence on him than she’d thought.

Mitch’s parents had been another dilemma for her. Her impulse had been to tell them about the twins soon after she’d known she was pregnant. The fact that Mitch was so adamant about wanting nothing to do with them was what had made her hesitate in the beginning.

And the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if she really wanted them getting involved in how she raised her children. Without knowing how things really stood with their son, did she dare let that happen? If there had been a different attitude, she might have told them.

But at first, she kept thinking Mitch would show up in one way or another. Or at least, that she would find a contact point. And that once she’d settled things with him, he should be the one to tell his parents.

She actually tried to talk to his mother at the company memorial service held for Jimmy. The woman had been gracious in a distant way, but when Darcy had tried to ask where Mitch was, she turned frosty fast.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t talked to my oldest son for a long time,” she said. “You’ll have to find some other way to get in touch with him.”

After that, she realized that if she went directly to the Carvers and told them about her pregnancy, they would immediately assume she was after money. She had to admit, a little financial aid would have come in very handy at that time. But once she’d thought things through, she knew it was just too dangerous. Money bought influence and got lawyers involved. It was much safer to take care of things herself.

That meant, sadly, that the Carvers were deprived of their grandchildren, and the twins were cheated out of grandparents, but she couldn’t see a way around that at the time.

“So there’s actually something you respect,” she said slowly. “Your mother. That’s sort of touching.”

She’d meant it as a barb, but once the words were out of her mouth, she realized it was true.

“You’re damn right I respect my mother. Have you met her?”

“Yes. She’s a lovely woman.”

“That she is.”

She frowned, thinking back on the things he had told her almost two years before. “It was really your father you had the quarrel with, wasn’t it?”

His face hardened. “That’s something I’m not going to discuss.”

Yes, she remembered now. All the bad feeling in the family revolved around some sort of feud with his father. And it obviously still burned deeply in him.

“You know, Darcy,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “I didn’t find out about what happened to Jimmy until just a few weeks ago.” He frowned and muttered, “I really ought to go by and pay my respects to his mother. I always liked her.”

Darcy nodded. Mimi was great. In fact, it was Mimi, Jimmy’s mother, who had taken her in when she had the twins. She was living with her right now. Mimi had health problems and Darcy had two little babies who required looking after. They needed each other and they seemed to have the perfect fit, for now.

“You really have been out of touch, haven’t you?” she noted. “How did your mother manage to find you?”

“She hired a private investigator.”

So he hadn’t even contacted the mother he claimed to be so close to. She frowned. This lack of family feeling did not bode well for his having any interest in the boys. But she’d known that all along.

“So all those things you said when we knew each other in …” She had force herself to say the name of the city. “In Paris …”

“Ah. You remember Paris, do you?” He pretended to be surprised.

She frowned, looking away. “Of course, I remember Paris.”

“But you’d like to forget,” he said softly, then grimaced. “Why do I get the feeling that what happened in Paris is looming over us like … like this giant vulture ready to pick apart the bones of our relationship?”

“Relationship?” she responded tartly. “Do we have a relationship? I thought that was one of those things you vowed never to have.”

He sighed. “Tell you what, Darcy. I’ll make you a deal.”

Folding her arms, she looked at him sideways.

“What sort of deal?”

“Look. Facing reality, we’re probably going to be working together. It would be best if we could fix things so that’s possible. So why don’t we just put Paris behind us? That was then. This is now. We’ve both changed. Circumstances have certainly changed. A lot of water under the bridge.” He shrugged. “Let’s start over again. Completely new.”

He rose and stuck out his hand. “Hi. I’m Mitch Carver. And I’m very pleased to meet you, Darcy Connors. I’m sure we’ll work well together.”

She stared at him and found her hand enveloped in his once again, but she couldn’t join in the general good cheer he was trying to promote. Act as though Paris never happened? Sorry. There were two little impediments waiting for her at home that made all this impossible.

Still, his touch had power. She felt his energy, his inner strength, and especially, his raw, masculine appeal, just in the warmth of his hand. Her pulse began to race, as though something exciting was about to happen. Startled, she pulled her hand out of his.

“You are so arrogant,” she told him gently, wishing she could will away his attractive presence. “You think you can wipe out the past, just by deciding to.”

“Of course. Why not?”

She shook her head. “I think you still have a lot to learn,” she said, regarding him narrowly.

Okay, she finally had a plan. She would think things over tonight, develop a method of attack, and give it to him in the morning. It would probably be best to do that somewhere outside of work. After all, she had no idea how he was going to react, but she did have a feeling it was going to be messy.

“Tell you what,” she said, turning to go. “Meet me tomorrow morning at The Jumpin’ Bean. You remember where that is, don’t you? Seven-thirty. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

He frowned, rising to see her out, his gaze suddenly alert. “What is it?”

She shook her head. “Tomorrow,” she said. “Will you meet me?”

He shrugged. “Of course.”

She nodded. “Okay. See you tomorrow.”

And she left his office feeling a little better about the future. At least she had a plan.

“Look at that, boys,” Mimi Foster announced in her slow Texas drawl. “Your mama’s home!”

Darcy swept her two toddlers up in her arms, laughing as they babbled at her happily and Sparky, Mimi’s little white fluffy dog, danced around her, barking noisily.

“Oh hush, Sparky,” she said, and to her babies, “My little ducks, I’m so glad to see you.” She cooed, kissing one and then the other and holding both tightly. “Have you been good for Mimi today?”

“They’ve been perfect angels, both of them,” Mimi lied kindly. A tall, slender woman, she favored exotic caftans and chandelier earrings.

“Right. I’ll just bet they have.” Darcy sighed as she put them back down in the playpen. Looking around the tidy front room of the modest Spanish-style house she’d been sharing with Jimmy’s mother since she’d come back to Terra Dulce in the San Antonio area, she shook her head. “Oh, Mimi, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Darcy, darlin',” the older woman said, rising and giving her friend a hug. “You know the three of you are my family now. Without y’all I would just wither up and blow away.”