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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.”