Kitabı oku: «Sultry»
He was too old for her, in years and in experience.
As far as the world was concerned, he’d lived a lifetime compared to her.
He had to stop thinking of her in such a personal way. More than that, he had to get her out of his place now, before he did something he would regret for a long time to come.
He didn’t want to lose his job. He liked working here. He had hoped to remain here as long as he wanted. When he got bored he would move on. That was the way he liked it—no ties that bound, no one to worry about but himself.
Until he’d seen Lindsay, that is.
He wanted her. No use denying that any longer. But he wanted a lot of things he couldn’t have. Lindsay was just another in a long list.
“Good dialog, provocative chapter endings that literally force a page turn, and a streamlined writing style…”
—Library Journal on One Summer Evening
Sultry
Mary Lynn
Baxter
www.mirabooks.co.uk
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
Special thanks to my friend Dr. Laura Horne
for coming to my rescue with her medical expertise.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
One
Summer 2000
“Okay, how badly is he really hurt?”
Lindsay Newman tried to keep the tremor out of her voice, but she couldn’t. Her father, a retired heart surgeon, had been injured in an automobile accident. She was afraid the truth concerning his condition had been kept from her.
“Like Tim told you on the phone, it’s not serious.” Peter Ballinger frowned, knitting his thick, dark brows together. “Cooper’s not serious. He’s going to be all right.”
Lindsay peered at her friend Peter long and hard, trying to pick up on any hint that he was lying to her. Her efforts proved futile. Underneath his bland but handsome facade, his conviction didn’t appear to waver. It was then that her insides seemed to turn loose. Before they had been tied in tiny knots. Now she could breathe and function like a human.
“Ah, here are your bags.”
Lindsay looked on as Peter motioned for a bellman to tackle the three pieces of large luggage, all the while continuing to breathe deeply. She couldn’t believe her trip to London with a couple of friends had ended on such a frantic note.
She had been gone almost four weeks when her brother Timothy called and told her about their father’s accident. She had taken the first plane out. Yet it seemed like an interminable amount of time had passed since she’d boarded that jet at Heathrow and arrived in Garnet, Mississippi.
It wouldn’t be long now before she actually saw for herself that Cooper was not in jeopardy; the limo was waiting to take them straight to the family estate.
“So were you having a good time?” Peter asked once the luggage was loaded and they were on their way.
Lindsay didn’t answer for a moment, still irritated at having seen Peter at the airport instead of her brother. However, she knew why Tim hadn’t come. A doctor himself, he was most likely by Cooper’s side, which was where he belonged.
Still, seeing Peter hadn’t been to her liking. Although he professed to love her, she knew better. He wanted her; she wouldn’t deny that—although she suspected it was the family money he wanted more.
Peter was from a family rich in lineage, but short on cash. She thought that a rather ironic situation, since he was a banker, banking being considered a “suitable” position for a Southern gentleman.
And Cooper was urging her to marry this stuffed shirt. She had met Peter at a charity function and ended up dancing with him several times. He’d asked her out the following week, and she’d gone.
Even though she saw him quite often after that, she never considered him anything other than a friend, someone to go out with, no strings attached. He’d been fun, harmless and at loose ends.
Peter, however, had other ideas, especially after he met Cooper. They formed an instant rapport, and Cooper saw him as the perfect match for his daughter.
From then on, Peter turned into a man with a mission, becoming more of an aggravation than an asset. Unfortunately, that hadn’t changed, and she was getting fed up.
“Lindsay?”
Shaking her head to clear it, she faced Peter once again and gave him an aloof smile. “Sorry, I’m having trouble concentrating.”
“I understand,” he said in his smooth voice. “Now that you’re back, what are your plans?”
“I think that should be obvious,” Lindsay said with a slight sting in her tone. “First of all, I’m going to see to Daddy.”
His perfectly shaped mouth stretched into a thin smile. “Of course.”
His words were not without their own sting, and she knew why. While Peter respected Cooper and saw him as an ally, he also resented her father because of her attachment to him.
“I gather you don’t want to talk about us.”
There is no us, she was tempted to say, but didn’t. “No, Peter, I don’t.”
“Dammit, when are you going to think of yourself? Do something for yourself?”
Lindsay’s irritation burgeoned into anger. Nonetheless, she managed to hang on to her control, though her voice was cold as icicles. “I’m happy with my life the way it is, thank you.”
Once she’d said that, Lindsay turned away, hoping he wouldn’t see the flush that covered her features, a tell-all that she hadn’t exactly told the truth. But the demons she was wrestling with weren’t any of his business.
Other than clenching his jaw a bit tighter, Peter showed no emotion. But he dropped the subject and didn’t try to break the silence that fell between them. Finally the driver braked the limo inside the gates of the mansion grounds.
For a second Lindsay didn’t move. It was good to be here. She loved this old home. Her gaze roamed over the huge flower garden set amidst the perfectly manicured grounds of this fine old Mississippi mansion, one that had been in the family for generations. However old it might be, it was in mint condition, having been refurbished and redecorated on several occasions.
One day this estate would be hers. Tim didn’t want it, she knew, having been given several acres of adjoining land where he and Eve had built a lovely home of their own.
“Thanks for meeting me,” Lindsay said, once they were standing outside the vehicle.
Peter nodded, then leaned and grazed her cheek with his lips. “Any time.”
Before Peter made it to his car, Lindsay was inside and dashing up the stairs.
“Lordy, child, is that you?”
Lindsay stopped for a second at the top of the circular stairway and whipped around. “Oh, hi, Dolly. I was wondering where you were.”
The housekeeper’s round face broke into a huge grin. “I was comin’ to the door as fast as I could get there. Only you were faster.” Dolly’s grin fled as she placed her hands on her equally rounded hips. “You don’t look so good. You’ve lost weight.”
“Don’t hover, Dolly. I’m okay. After I see Daddy, I’ll give you a hug.”
“The tea cakes will be coming out of the oven about then. Meanwhile, you skedaddle. He’s waitin’.”
The instant Lindsay entered the master suite, her brother rose to his feet, met her halfway and gave her a brief hug, which she returned. Then her eyes sought the man who was in the bed, propped against massive pillows.
“Oh, Daddy—” Her voice broke as she crossed to his bedside, grasped his hand, then bent and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
“Ah, hell, I’m fine. Don’t fuss so.” Cooper cut his eyes over at Tim. “If I had my way, I’d be on the golf course right now.”
“Dream on,” Lindsay muttered, looking toward her brother, then back to Cooper. “I have to say, you don’t look like you’ve been run over by a truck.”
“I don’t feel like it, either.”
Lindsay scrutinized him. If not for the brutal-looking circles under his eyes, circles that heretofore hadn’t been there, and the purplish spot on his right cheekbone, no one would have known he’d just experienced a life-threatening trauma. Dr. Cooper Newman was still a striking figure.
Blessed with deep-set, piercing green eyes, a thick head of silver hair, and a tall lean frame, he was downright good-looking. When he was dressed for success, no one would guess he was in his middle sixties.
“Well, he has a concussion to prove it,” Tim said in a firm tone.
Lindsay’s gaze shifted back to her brother, who did not have anywhere near the commanding presence Cooper had. Yet in all fairness, Tim, who looked like their mother, Emily, had no trouble holding his own.
Perhaps if he didn’t wear glasses and have a mustache, there might be more of a resemblance between father and son, Lindsay had always thought. At thirty—four years her senior—Tim was tall and fine-looking in his own right, with light brown hair and dark brown eyes, the same as hers—eyes they had inherited from their mother.
“What about his heart?” she asked into the silence, her voice anxious.
“My ticker’s ticking right along,” Cooper snapped before Tim could answer.
Lindsay raised her eyebrows at her brother. “Is it?”
“So far, so good. Other than what’s visible, and the fact that his muscles have to feel like he’s been in a war zone, he came out of the fiasco relatively unscathed.”
“Thank God for that.”
Cooper made a strange noise. “Would you two stop talking about me as if I’m not here?”
Lindsay cut her gaze back to Cooper and smiled. “You haven’t even said you were glad to see me.”
“There was no need for you to come home,” he muttered darkly.
“I disagree. That’s precisely what I should’ve done.”
“Dad’s right, you know,” Tim said. “You could’ve remained in London. I had everything under control.”
“I know you did, but I had to see for myself. Anyhow, I was ready to jump ship, so to speak.”
“Bored, huh?” Tim asked.
Lindsay ignored the mocking smile that seemed itching to break across his thin lips. “A little.” She shrugged, unsure of what else to say. She hadn’t sorted through all the emotions that were warring inside her as yet, so she couldn’t share them with anyone.
“Now that’s a problem I could love,” Tim said.
Cooper snorted, then glared at his first-born. “That is your problem. You don’t want to work.”
“That’s not true,” Tim countered mildly.
So mildly that Lindsay picked up on the insincerity behind his tone. It was obvious Cooper had, too, for he snorted again, this time with more disgust.
Tim’s face flooded with color, but he didn’t say anything.
In order to fill the growing and uncomfortable silence, Lindsay asked, “How long do you have to stay in bed?”
“Through today only,” Cooper said fiercely.
Tim merely looked at him. “We’ll see.”
“No, you’re the one who will—”
“Hey, time out!” Lindsay exclaimed. Then, turning back to Tim, she added, “Now that I’m home, I’ll see that he behaves.”
Cooper’s eyes shone with disapproval. “I’m not at all happy you cut short your trip and deserted your friends.”
Tim held up his hands. “I’ll let you two duke that out. I’m gone.”
“Don’t go. Not yet, anyway,” Lindsay said quickly. “Dolly’s making some tea cakes.”
Tim halted with a smile. “In that case, I’ll meet you on the porch.”
Once her brother had left, another silence descended over the room. Finally Cooper broke it. “You’re a good daughter, Lindsay.”
“I try,” she said, not sure where this conversation was leading. His out-of-the-blue statement took her aback. Rarely did Cooper compliment her on anything. Yet there were moments when he was warm and appreciative of her and what she did for him. These moments she treasured.
But by and large, he made more demands than anything and expected them to be carried out. Within the confines of the house and grounds, one soon learned that Cooper ruled and didn’t like to be crossed.
“Sometimes you try too hard.”
Lindsay almost shivered, thinking how difficult he was to love, and how much he tried to make both Tim and her bend to his strong will.
“How’s that?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.
“You know. It’s time you married and had children. You’re certainly not getting any younger.”
How well she knew. At twenty-six, she had never even lived away from home. She had remained here, occupying her own suite. When she wasn’t busy raising money and heading her favorite charity, she acted as Cooper’s hostess when he entertained, which was often.
To the outside world looking in, she had everything money could buy.
“I want you to stop dallying and set a wedding date.”
Lindsay rubbed her forehead. “You know I don’t want to marry Peter.”
“Why the hell not?”
“You know that, too. I don’t love him.”
“So what?”
“Daddy!”
“You’ll learn to love him. It’s that simple.”
Lindsay felt as if she were beating her head against a rock. He was one stubbornly opinionated man. “Simple? I don’t think so.”
Cooper’s features turned cold. “I’m counting on this marriage. Please don’t disappoint me. Do it.”
Two
When Lindsay walked out onto the porch, she paused for a moment, feeling a sudden but added sense of homecoming, thinking that houses without porches were like diamonds without the sparkle. They were missing something truly special.
“Hey, your tea’s waiting.”
Lindsay forced her limbs to move, reaching for the glass of iced tea her brother held out to her. After nodding her thanks, she gazed at the beauty that surrounded her, drawing the sweet smell of roses into her lungs.
Summer.
This was her favorite time of the year, especially on a day when the sun was about to call it quits.
“You look beat,” Tim said, his head cocked to one side, eyeing her carefully.
“I am. Actually, I feel like someone beat me.”
Tim almost smiled. “Not someone, but something—jet lag.”
“That and worry about Daddy.”
“You should feel better about him now.”
Lindsay made her way to the white wooden railing and leaned against it, feeling the gentle breeze ruffle her hair. “I do, but I’m still concerned about his heart.”
Tim sipped his tea, then shrugged. “That’ll always be a concern, that’s for sure. But at least the wreck didn’t seem to put any extra stress on it.”
“I hope that continues to hold true,” Lindsay said in a slightly unsteady voice.
“We both know there are no guarantees in this world.”
Lindsay’s own heart skipped a beat. “Are you trying to tell me something?”
“Nope. At least, nothing you don’t already know. Accident or no accident, Dad’s heart could stop at any time.”
Although Lindsay hated to face that brutal fact, she had no choice. Admitting that, however, hadn’t been easy. Even though Cooper had had several attacks already, caused by a defect that couldn’t be fixed with bypass surgery, she had refused to acknowledge that he wasn’t immortal. He’d always been so big, so full of life, so larger than life, that she couldn’t imagine him not being alive.
“On the bright side of all this,” Tim added, “Dad could live to the ripe old age of ninety-five, going full steam ahead.”
Lindsay sipped on her tea. “He’s definitely in that mode now.”
Tim’s lips twisted. “What’s he on your case about this time?”
“Same old thing, only he came right out and gave me an ultimatum for setting a wedding date.”
“Why the hell don’t you just tell him you’re not going to marry Ballinger, and be done with it?”
Lindsay’s eyes flared. “I already have, but he still refuses to take no for an answer.”
“Well, I’ll admit you have a problem. When the old man digs his heels in, it’s his way or the highway.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Lindsay said.
Tim merely shrugged.
Lindsay crossed to the antique swing, which was comfortably cushioned in a floral pattern. Once she was seated, she held her silence, setting the swing in soft motion.
“Would you be willing to help me out?” she asked at last, feeling her insides unwind.
“Depends.”
“Maybe if you talked to him.” She was testing uncharted waters, as she rarely ever asked her brother for anything, especially when it pertained to something personal. She never felt she could count on him.
“Wow, hold on a minute. You’ll have to take care of this one on your own. It’s your baby, you’ll have to burp it. Besides, I’ve got enough problems of my own.”
She still couldn’t count on him, she thought, and not without a trace of bitterness. “Problems seem to go hand and hand with this family,” she said on an emotional note. “And that shouldn’t be. Both of us have the best of everything.”
Tim cut her a sharp glance. “Speak for yourself.”
Lindsay cringed against the whine underlying his succinct statement. It grated on her nerves.
“Oh, come on, Tim, you should be on top of the world. You have a wonderful wife, a practice that other doctors would die for, since you took over all Daddy’s patients. And what about your side business, your chain of pharmacies? My God, you shouldn’t have a worry in the world, especially a financial one. Yet—” Lindsay broke off when she saw the scowl darken his face.
“I always seem to be broke,” Tim finished with a sardonic laugh. “Was that what you were going to say?”
“Yes, and I don’t understand why, unless you’re still playing the stock market and losing.”
“You got it.”
Lindsay glared at him. “You’ve got to stop.”
“I’m trying, only it’s not that simple.”
She knew her brother was addicted to playing the market. From the look of despair on his features, she suspected he might even have depleted the trust their mother had left each of them.
“It is that simple, brother dear. Just stop playing Russian roulette with your time and money.”
Tim clenched his jaw. “Sorry, I forgot I was dealing with Miss Perfect, who never makes any mistakes.”
Lindsay flushed, then murmured, “That’s a cheap shot.”
“Maybe, but it’s the truth. If things were simple, you wouldn’t still be here under Daddy’s roof, at his constant beck and call.”
“You don’t know that,” Lindsay said tersely, her eyes flashing.
“The hell I don’t. And what do you have to show for getting up every morning? I don’t see you setting the world on fire.”
Following that outburst, Lindsay fell silent, her insides churning. He was right, of course. Who was she to be giving advice? To date, she hadn’t done anything with her own life that counted for a hill of beans, except her work with the women’s shelter. And at times even that failed to use up all her energies.
But she hoped to change all that. In fact, she’d been mulling over an idea for some time now and had worked herself into the excited stage. Even so, she wasn’t ready to share her innermost thoughts with anyone, least of all her brother.
“Look, sis—”
“If you’re about to apologize, don’t. I had it coming. But I wouldn’t count me out—not just yet, anyway.”
Tim didn’t respond. However, a few minutes later, after their glasses of iced tea were empty, he broke the silence. “Do you ever think about Mother?”
That starkly spoken question so surprised Lindsay that, for a moment, she couldn’t say anything.
“Hell, you don’t have to answer that,” Tim said, his features pinched. “Just forget I asked.”
“Of course I think about her.” Lindsay’s chest constricted. “Every day.”
“Me, too.” His tone was harsh, but with a sad undertone.
Lindsay felt a sting behind her eyelids and blinked. She dared not cry—not now, not when she was already feeling vulnerable from Cooper’s accident and his pressuring her to marry a man she didn’t love. If the tears ever started, she might not be able to stop them.
“Do you ever ask yourself why she did it?”
“You know I do,” Lindsay responded softly, staring into the agony twisting her brother’s face, agony that she knew was duplicated on hers.
“Sometimes I hate her,” Tim muttered fiercely, “for what she did to us, to our family. Maybe if Garnet was bigger, without the Peyton Place mentality, it would’ve been different.”
Lindsay curled her nails into her palms and felt them pierce her skin. But that pain was nothing compared to the pain in her heart. Heart pain—through the years, she had learned it was the worst kind. Once it got its grip on you, it wouldn’t let go.
“Sometimes I hate her, too,” Lindsay admitted. “And no matter where we lived, it would not have been different.” Her voice caught. “But she was sick. Believe me, I understand that now.”
“I know you do.” He paused, then added, “God, if it had been me who had…” His voice trailed off.
“Found her lying in her own blood, dead,” Lindsay whispered, barely getting those words out before her own voice faded into nothingness.
Tim blanched, then nodded.
In some respects, Lindsay couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with Tim. Always before, he’d refused to talk about their mother’s untimely and tragic death from a self-inflicted gunshot wound.
At the time, he had retreated into his own shell of personal pain and fear. She hadn’t faulted him then, nor did she now. Besides, she’d been too distraught herself to think about anything other than her own broken heart and shattered dreams.
Even though Cooper was the strong one in the family, the one who made the major decisions, Lindsay had nonetheless adored her mother, even if it had been from afar. She had learned early on that Emily was different from other mothers.
Emily had had deep bouts of depression, which often sent her away from home for long periods. It hadn’t been until Lindsay was older that she realized her mother was in a private sanitarium for treatment, something Cooper was ashamed of and tried to cover up by refusing to acknowledge or discuss his wife’s problem.
Only after Lindsay found her mother’s blood-splattered body and plunged into that same world of dark depression did Cooper respond.
“Lindsay, are you all right?”
Jerking her thoughts out of the past, Lindsay tried to swallow back the panic that suddenly threatened to overwhelm her. No, she wasn’t all right, she wanted to scream. Instead, she made the swing go faster, as if to outrun her mind.
Why now, of all times, did Tim have to bring up their mother’s suicide?
“Of course you’re not all right,” Tim muttered, seemingly more to himself than to her.
Lindsay licked her dry lips. “I’m okay, really. Mother was not something I expected to discuss, that’s all.”
“Me either,” Tim admitted, his weak chin jutting slightly. “I don’t know what the hell came over me.”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to feel guilty for talking about her.”
“But I do,” he said harshly. “It all happened so long ago.”
“The summer I graduated from the university and you were in med school,” Lindsay acknowledged in a dazed voice. “Even at that, it seems like yesterday.” Her voice had suddenly turned hoarse, and she cleared her throat.
“Let’s change the subject, okay?” Tim said abruptly. “‘To hell with her’ is the way I see it. If she didn’t want to stay with us, then we’re better off without her.”
“Tim, please, don’t talk like that. What would Daddy think?”
“Who gives a damn? Haven’t you ever considered that he just might be partly to blame?”
“Of course I’ve considered it,” she responded, a wealth of sadness in her tone.
“His stable of women has always been the talk of the town.” His tone was bitter. “Because of that, I’m sure Mother was the brunt of a lot of jokes.”
“Tim, don’t do this, to yourself or me. It’s not healthy, for more reasons than one.”
“You know, life sucks.”
Lindsay blew out a heavy breath, realizing the tiny moment of closeness she had felt with Tim earlier had disintegrated. He was once more his brooding, untouchable self, while she was becoming anxious, a feeling that frightened her. She didn’t want to talk about Cooper’s penchant for women or dissect his role in her mother’s death. It wasn’t healthy.
“I’d rather not talk about this any more,” she said stiffly, voicing her thoughts.
His face darkened. “Ditto.”
Lindsay stopped the swing. “I guess I’d best get back and check on Daddy.”
“Ah, he’s all right. If not, we’d have heard.”
Lindsay didn’t argue. However, she got out of the swing, walked back to the railing and stared into the distance. What a lovely and tranquil place, she thought, aching for some of that tranquility to filter into her soul.
“Why do you stay?”
Lindsay gave her brother a taxing look, trying to curb her temper. Another unsettling question out of the blue. This was a side of Tim she hadn’t seen in a long time. He usually had very little to say to her. “You know why.”
“No, I don’t. He’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He’s just too selfish and ornery to do so.”
“It’s not all him.” Lindsay’s voice suddenly shook. “I’ve never wanted to be by myself.”
“I can understand that.”
A short silence followed his bleak words. Lindsay broke it by saying, “My main concern right now is convincing Daddy once and for all that I’m not going to marry Peter.”
“Well, good luck. You’ve got a daunting task ahead.”
Another silence ensued as Lindsay’s eyes returned to the colorful grounds. It was then that she saw a man sauntering across the nearby lawn as if he owned it. He was a big man, with a loose, long-limbed gait that bespoke of self-assurance, if not a bit of arrogance.
An attractive hunk, she thought wryly, unable to remember the last time she’d been affected by any man. Of course, she wasn’t affected by him, she corrected herself quickly, except in a purely objective way. After all, he was obviously an employee, and much too old for her, to boot.
Still, her gaze lingered. He had a strong, rugged profile, and dark hair that curled slightly at his nape. But it wasn’t his face that held her attention. It was from the neck down.
He was shirtless, and even from where she stood, she could see the contour of his body. And a fine body it was, too.
For a moment Lindsay forgot all about Cooper, Timothy and—especially—Peter. She was intrigued and wondered who the man was, though she had never before taken an interest in the people who maintained the huge estate.
As if he sensed he was being watched, he swung his head sideways, and their eyes met. She was trapped. Caught staring. Her face flooded with color, especially when he seemed to be surveying her with guarded eyes.
What was he thinking? More to the point, why did she care?
Suddenly, his brows arched in a deliberate and dismissive gesture, then he turned his head.
Lindsay didn’t know why, but that look irritated her no end. She had never considered herself a snob, but she felt like putting him in his place, wherever that might be.
She yanked her gaze away from him and back to her brother. “Who’s that man?”
Tim’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean Mitch Rawlins?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”
“He’s our new estate manager.”
“Don’t you mean head gardener?” Lindsay asked in a catty tone.
Tim gave her a perplexed look, then said with a touch of mockery, “I’d say he’s a bit more than that. Why do you want to know?”
“No reason,” Lindsay snapped, even as her hungry eyes once again sought the man out.
Three
Mitchum Rawlins, known as Mitch by his friends, continued to stare at the boss’s daughter. Or rather, the lady of the manor, he corrected himself with a smirk, long after she had turned her haughty little nose up and away from him.
He wondered if she thought her snubbing him made any difference. His smirk deepened as he rubbed his stubbled chin. Having only been working on the estate as its main caretaker for a month, he’d never had the opportunity to meet Lindsay Newman firsthand. Word had it that she had gone to Europe. He guessed her old man’s accident had brought her back home.
While she was in no way hard on the eyes, she caught his attention mainly because everything about her seemed to radiate a restless energy. And usually, where there was energy, there was passion.
Although she appeared on the thin side, she was still well-proportioned. Her small, jutting breasts and narrow waistline bore that out. But it was the strawberry-blond hair swirling around her face that was the eye-catcher.
He would bet anything she had the freckles that usually went along with that coloring. He would also bet she had dark eyes. As for her age, he was less sure about that. He’d put her somewhere in her middle to late twenties.
Finally realizing what he was doing, Mitch let go of a stinging curse, then forced his mind off the spoiled brat who wouldn’t have cared if he took another breath.
The last thing he needed was to have anything to do with Dr. Newman’s daughter. More to the point, he didn’t want anything to do with anyone, especially a woman.
For the first time in years, he was sleeping like a baby. Using his hands, he did an honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay. Suddenly Mitch peered down at those large, tanned hands, which were both callused and strong, and thought again what a lucky son of a bitch he was.
When his wife, Wendy, left him and his other job became intolerable, he’d walked away in the opposite direction, leaving behind a world filled with responsibilities and sleepless nights.
Regrets?
None whatsoever.
Anything would beat what he’d done and where he’d been. Now he felt free in every sense of the word. He could grow anything, build anything, repair anything. God-given talents—all of them. And he was using them wisely. The only thing that bugged him was an occasional loneliness, a real need to touch and be touched by another human.
But that feeling didn’t come often or last long. Nope, he wouldn’t change the new direction his life had taken for a minute, nor was he about to let a woman anywhere near him, certainly not an obviously spoiled brat like Lindsay Newman.
Still, he found himself casting another glance in her direction. His stomach tightened. He had never even talked to her, for God’s sake. And yet the intensity of the attraction he felt for her was staggering. It was as if his eyes had caught sight of an unattainable “perfect” woman and a lust-adrenaline cocktail had hit him in the gut.
Well, he would just have to get over it. He was not about to self-destruct over another woman, no matter how hot he was for her.
He turned and stomped back inside his living quarters.
But even after he had slammed the door behind him, Mitch kept seeing the lovely lines of her face, something that made him mad enough to bite a ten-penny nail in two.
What was wrong with him? What was there about her that had brought about the impossible? Stirred him up? Maybe he had been alone too long. Maybe it was time to scratch this sudden itch before it got any farther out of control. Maybe he should call up an old girlfriend and enjoy a roll in the hay. Even if the lady of the manor wouldn’t be interested, he knew several who would.
Nah.
In the end, it wouldn’t be worth it. The price was too high. He would just take a cold shower, drink a cold beer, then crawl into a cold bed.
Alone.
“Still feeling better, Daddy?”
It was the evening after she had returned from her trip that she decided to pay Cooper an impromptu visit. She hadn’t seen him all day, as she’d been busy unpacking, reading through mail and returning phone calls.
Even though she knew he was okay, she couldn’t blot out the morbid trick her mind continued to play on her. She envisioned walking into her daddy’s suite and finding him on the floor, dead, just like she’d found her mother.
“I’m still fine,” he said in a gruff voice. “I wish you wouldn’t fuss so.”
“I wish you’d do like your cardiologist told you and take it easy,” she said. “Which didn’t include playing a round of golf.”
Cooper’s bushy white eyebrows drew together. “I see Dolly’s been running her mouth.”
“That’s right.”
“Well, I didn’t play,” he announced in a petulant tone. “I just rode around with a friend, and I’m none the worse for it. And as you can see, I’m already in bed, though I don’t like it, mind you.”
Probably because he was without a woman beside him, Lindsay thought, recalling her conversation with her brother. Like Tim, would she ever accept the unvarnished truth that her daddy was a ladies’ man, that he had most likely been unfaithful to her mother? She doubted it. After all these years, that fact still rankled. Yet he’d never married again, which had always puzzled her. But then, she had never pretended to understand her daddy, and knew that she never would.
“You look nice, my dear,” Cooper said, bridging the short silence.
“Thanks,” Lindsay murmured, looking not at him but out the French doors.
“Are you about to have dinner?”
“Shortly.”
“With Peter?”
Lindsay smothered a sigh. “No. I’m dining alone, actually.”
“You shouldn’t be,” he snapped. “I’m sure Peter would be more than happy to join you.”
Lindsay wanted to lash out and say that Peter was his pet, not hers. But she didn’t. Instead, she told him, “I didn’t feel like company. I’m still suffering the effects of jet lag.”
“I meant what I said last night, Lindsay.”
So much for her good intentions. However, she hadn’t been called her father’s daughter for nothing. She could be—and often was—as stubborn as he was.
“Daddy, I—”
He held up a hand, halting her flow of words. “I know what you’re about to say.”
“Then let me say it.”
Cooper’s lips tightened. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“I know, but—”
He interrupted again. “It’s past time you were married.”
“That way of thinking is archaic, Daddy. I’m only twenty-six years old, for heaven’s sake.”
“That’s beside the point, and not even the most important issue. No young woman of your prestige and status should be without a husband.” He paused, as if to let his words sink in. “I’ve already pointed that out countless times. How long is it going to take before it soaks in?”
Lindsay flushed and bit down on her lower lip.
“It’s just not proper. Your mother would have agreed with me one hundred percent.”
Lindsay bristled but continued to hold her tongue, again wise enough to know that now was not the time for a final showdown, not when he was recuperating from a nasty accident. Yet his old-fashioned attitude sent her irritation factor soaring off the charts.
“We’ll talk later, Daddy.” She made her way toward the door.
“Good night, my dear.”
She swung back around and smiled, though not with her eyes. “Good night.”
Thirty minutes later, Lindsay was sitting in the parlor, sipping on flavored coffee from the silver pot that Dolly had left on one corner of the table. She had just finished a delicious meal in the small, less formal dining room and was feeling her eyes grow heavier by the minute. Moments after they closed, she heard the doorbell chime.
Groaning inwardly, her lashes fluttered open and she saw Peter standing in the doorway. Oh, brother, she thought, her heart plummeting.
“I hope I’m not intruding.”
“Hello, Peter,” she said, not bothering to hide her aggravation.
If he picked up on it, he didn’t show it. He crossed to the couch and sat down on the opposite end. “Dolly let me in,” he said inanely. “She thought you might enjoy some company, said you seemed lonely.”
Boy, was Dolly in big trouble. “I’m not lonely. I’m exhausted.”
“In that case, I won’t stay long.”
A silence fell between them.
Peter didn’t have to say anything for her to know that he was mentally shifting gears, getting ready for what he hoped was the big and final pitch.
“Lindsay, you already know how I feel about you.”
She deliberately set her cup down on the tray and looked at him. “I know that you don’t love me.”
He was obviously stunned by her bluntness and seemed to scramble for a suitable reply. “You don’t know any such thing.”
“Look, Peter, this is not a good time—not when I’ve just arrived back home and not so soon after Daddy’s accident.” God, did she sound like a broken record or what?
He let out a deep sigh. “All right, Lindsay. But you should know, I’m not going to go away.”
She hadn’t thought he would, not because he loved her, but because Cooper wanted him in the picture. And for whatever reason, Peter seemed content to be led by the nose.
Unwittingly, the thought crossed her mind that the “gardener” she had seen earlier could never be coerced into doing anything he didn’t want to do. The set of his jaw and his air of self-confidence had said as much. But then, like her brother, Peter was weak in many ways. If she were to marry him, they would live in the big house, in her suite, which was something her daddy also wanted.
Would there ever come a time when pleasing Cooper wasn’t important to her? Or would the legacy of her mother’s suicide always force her to feel overly dependent on the one parent she had left, even when he didn’t always deserve the level of her devotion?
“I don’t know about you,” Lindsay said suddenly, “but I need some fresh air.”
Before Peter could respond, she was up, had the French doors open and was out on the cozy side veranda. Peter followed suit with their cups. It was when she reached for hers that her hand froze.
Him. Again.
“Lindsay, what’s wrong?” Peter demanded.
“Er…nothing.” She forced a smile, and with fingers that weren’t quite steady, she took the cup.
However, her eyes never strayed off Mitch Rawlins, who was standing on the front porch of his cottage, leaning against a post. Even though he was too far away for her to see his eyes, she sensed he was also staring at her.
Lindsay’s heart raced, and her palms turned sweaty. Before she could begin to sort through this explosive and unexpected reaction, Mitch pushed his big body away from the post. Yet his gaze seemed to be stuck on her.
She stiffened as a myriad of emotions charged through her. This was the second time she’d seen this man. Both times she’d responded in an animalistic way. Her face flamed. It was purely physical, she told herself, which in itself was crazy.
The feeling would go away, she assured herself, forcing down the desperation closing in on her.
Yet there was something about him, something about his razor-stubbled face and big body, that messed with her hormones. Suddenly she felt torn between her body’s betrayal and her mind’s determination to keep her distance.
“Damn,” she muttered.
Peter gave her a strange look. “Did you say something?”
“Don’t pay any attention to me,” she said lamely. “I was just thinking out loud.”
“Care to share?”
“No,” she said bluntly.
She heard his sharp intake of breath and knew that she’d angered him. But when he spoke, his tone was conciliatory.
“Well, it was a good idea to come outside. The evening’s lovely.”
Lindsay didn’t bother to respond. She was too busy watching Mitch turn and saunter back into his house. Only after he disappeared did she release her breath.
Four
“Good morning.”
When she heard Mary Jane Morgan’s voice on the phone, Lindsay’s face brightened. M.J., as she was affectionately called, had been her friend since grade school. A divorcée with no children, she worked as a paralegal for a prestigious law firm.
“Hey, I was thinking about you,” Lindsay said, reaching for her coffee cup and taking a healthy sip, hoping the caffeine would nudge her into action. She hadn’t slept well; as a result, she felt a tad hungover.
“But not enough to call me, you wretch.”
Lindsay laughed. “Hey, give me a break. I just got home.”
“Excuses, excuses.”
“So when are we going to get together?” Lindsay asked, already feeling much better. M.J. was like a strong tonic. Her jaded sense of humor could cure almost any ills, especially hers.
During the months and years following Lindsay’s mother’s suicide, she didn’t know what she would have done without M.J., who had stuck by her side through the worst of times.
Even though her own life hadn’t been littered with roses, Mary Jane never complained. She’d gotten divorced shortly after she married, having learned her husband was gay. That blow had been so severe, it had taken her a long time to get over it. Now, however, she was on the prowl again, a fact she would readily admit. Her honesty about it tickled Lindsay.
“So how’s the lord of the manor?”
Only M.J. could refer to Cooper in such a manner and get by with it. But she did it in such an unmalicious way that Lindsay never took umbrage.
“He’s still lording over everyone.”
M.J. giggled. “Figures. All joking aside, how’s he doing?”
“He’s good, which is actually a miracle, considering what he’s been through.”
“Then you really didn’t have to cut your trip short—but I’m glad you did. I hate it when you’re gone. I don’t have anyone to whine to.”
“Well, it’s good to know I’ve been missed—for whatever reason,” Lindsay said drolly.
“So what’s up now that you are back? Same old one and two?”
“I hope not.”
“Don’t knock it, my friend. I could handle being spoiled and rich and a lady of leisure.”
“So that’s what you really think of me,” Lindsay said with forced lightness, trying not to take what her friend said as anything other than a joke. “Some friend you are.”
“I’m just green with envy, that’s all. But hey, I was only teasing. You know that. You do more for others than anyone I know—or will ever know, for that matter.”
“I’d do more if only Daddy was more understanding,” Lindsay said. He’s after me big time to marry Peter.”
M.J. groaned. “I thought you had that all settled before you went to Europe.”
“I thought so, too, but I guess I was mistaken.”
“I hope you’re not weakening. Peter’s a jerk.”
Lindsay sighed. “I agree one hundred percent. However, Daddy thinks he’s the man for me.”
“Screw whether you love him or not, right?”
“Right.”
“If it’s grandkids he wants, why doesn’t he go knock on Tim’s door?”
“Because Tim would tell him to butt out in a heartbeat.”
“So why don’t you do the same thing?” M.J. hesitated. “Don’t you think it’s past time? You’re strong now, Lindsay. You’ve come a long way, and you don’t need Cooper like you once did.”
“I know, M.J. It’s just that old habits die hard.”
“What you ought to do is move out of that house, get an apartment.”
Lindsay was silent for a long moment, choosing her words carefully—not that it would do any good. Mary Jane could read her like a book without a cover. “You’re right, only I don’t have the guts. I’ll admit it.”
“At least you’re honest.”
“But I do have something in mind.”
“Oh?” Mary Jane’s voice perked up considerably.
“Don’t ‘oh’ me. I’m really serious.”
“Are we talking about a plan, or what?”
“I guess you could call it a plan. Yeah, that’ll work.”
Lindsay could picture Mary Jane’s petite features scrunched in a frown while the wheels were turning inside her head.
“So?”
“So I’ll tell you about it another day, over lunch.”
“That’s a dirty trick to play on me.”
“Well, it’ll get you out of that office for a little while, anyway.”
“I’m out today.”
“Only because it’s Saturday,” Lindsay pointed out. “And the day’s not over yet.”
“Boy, have you got my number.”
“Just like you’ve got mine.”
M.J. laughed. “So are you going to the shelter?”
“Maybe this afternoon.”
“Any news from there?”
“No,” Lindsay said. “But then, I haven’t called Rita.”
Rita Thomas, director of the women’s shelter, was another person Lindsay adored and could identify with, the main reason being that they had both suffered great heartaches in their lives.
Even though Lindsay hadn’t been associated with the shelter all that long, her newest charity project had quickly turned into one she was quite passionate about.
“Call me when you’re ready to share the big secret.”
“Actually, my news involves the shelter.”
“That’s great, especially if it keeps you out of the shrink’s office.”
“So far, so good,” Lindsay said.
“Well, I’ve certainly seen a difference in you since you took the shelter under your wing.”
“We’ll see if it pans out.”
“My, but you sound mysterious.”
“Well, you’ll just have to put your curiosity in cold storage for a while longer.”
“Whatever. Meanwhile, get rid of that prick Peter.”
Lindsay’s lips twitched. “Yes, ma’am. Talk to you later.”
The instant she placed the receiver back in its cradle, her smile fled. She wished Mary Jane hadn’t mentioned Peter again. The thought of him could ruin her day.
She got up and stretched. When Mary Jane called, she had just finished dressing in leggings, a long shirt and her running shoes. Now she was ready to hit the outdoors. Losing sleep had definitely put a damper on her body and her spirits. However, a trek outdoors would remedy that. It would also serve as a morale booster for when she approached Cooper later with her idea—something she didn’t have to put off, since he was definitely on the mend.
Still, it wasn’t a discussion she was looking forward to.
A few minutes later, Lindsay strolled through the kitchen. “Morning, Dolly.”
“Mornin’, child. Want some breakfast?”
Lindsay kissed her on the cheek. “Not until after I exercise.”
Dolly snorted, her black eyes looking Lindsay up and down. “That’s the last thing you should be doing. You need some meat on those scrawny bones.”
“Don’t start. Exercise keeps me sane.”
Dolly merely sniffed this time, but kept her silence.
“So where’s Daddy? Has he been down?”
“Hours ago, or so it seems. He’s having coffee with some of his men friends.”
“That’s a good sign.”
Dolly positioned her hands on her hips. “You should worry more about yourself than him, you know?”
“I know.”
Lindsay smiled, walked out the door, and immediately wavered. For a late June morning it was hot and muggy, a rarity. The eighties was the norm. She shuddered to think what the remainder of the summer would bring. She considered returning to her room and putting on shorts. But she didn’t. It wouldn’t hurt her to perspire; if nothing else, it would clean out her pores.
Suddenly Mitch Rawlins came to mind, and her good mood instantly disappeared. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from wondering if he ever broke a sweat. Somehow, she doubted it. After all, he had a crew to do the manual labor.
That was why, when she rounded the corner of the big house and saw him in the flesh, she pulled up short, barely able to keep her mouth from flying open.
She was shocked enough at having come upon him unexpectedly, but the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt made matters worse. And droplets of sweat were flying off him as he dug a shovel into the rich earth.
She stood mute and swallowed hard. What to do? For some inexplicable reason, she wanted to turn and run. Yet she wanted to stay put, too. The latter won out, especially when he stopped what he was doing and faced her.
“Mornin’,” he said in a low, mocking tone, though he was looking at her with something akin to a fluid passion that seemed to link them.
“Hi,” Lindsay responded in a breathless voice, while her eyes—half wild, half afraid—stared greedily at him.
Was her face red? Probably. She couldn’t stop staring, totally captivated by his six-foot-plus frame, her gaze homing in on that bare chest matted with dark crisp hair that curled its way down to his navel, stopping at the waistband of his jeans.
And though she had no intention of taking her gaze any farther, she did, then jerked her eyes upward again, warmth climbing into her cheeks.
Heat boiled inside her suddenly, and her insides felt scalded. Jerking her gaze away from him, she schooled her features to show none of the turmoil raging inside her.
“You’re Lindsay Newman,” he said in a low, easy-sounding voice.
Lindsay forced her eyes back on him. “And you’re Mitch Rawlins.”
He gave her another mocking smile at the same time that he took several fingers and wiped a thick layer of sweat off his forehead. Besides having a billboard body, his face was easy on the eyes, though not handsome in the true sense of the word. His features were too strong and his beard too heavy, giving the impression that he needed a shave, which in itself was a bizarre turn-on.
His eyes were a dark blue, complementing his dark hair, which had a gray streak running through it, another turn-on. While his looks had certainly garnered her attention, it was the fact that he was actually working the ground himself that upped her curiosity another notch.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked, interrupting the growing silence.
His words were pointed, which boiled her blood again, but for a different reason. “I can’t think of anything,” she said, forcing a casualness to her tone that she didn’t feel.
“Well, then you won’t mind if I get back to work.”
His straight-from-the-hip directness drew both her anger and her admiration. “What are you going to plant there?”
He paused, raised his head, and though his lips twitched, she couldn’t say he was smiling.
“Do you really care?”
This time that directness hit a raw nerve. Nonetheless, she didn’t blink. “Not really.”
The corners of his sculptured lips rose in a real smile. “Didn’t think so.”
Even if she’d wanted to move, she couldn’t have. The power of that smile held her feet to the ground. “I guess I’ll see you around,” she finally managed to say.
He leaned on his shovel. “Probably will.”
She watched the sweat trickle down his belly before she lifted her eyes to his. Though the contact was brief, it was lethal.
“Have a good day, you hear?”
His drawling words broke the spell and jolted her into action. She turned and took off, her heart beating faster than her feet could possibly run.
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