Predicting Rain?. Mary Wilson Anne

was sub par, and it bothered him that Eve thought that was even an option. “No, that won’t do.”

      He heard Eve’s exasperated sigh. “Well, Mrs. Ferris says she has to be out of here in three or four days at the latest, so what choice do you have? Oh, I know, your mother!”

      That idea never even saw the light of day with him. “No, not Mother.” She was busy somewhere in Italy, and she had barely responded to his situation with Victoria. “Get a good nanny,” had been all she’d said. He knew that when his father had passed away, she’d been stunned, but determined to keep living the life she wanted to live. He’d made sure she could, but he never looked to her as a source of support for him. He’d never known a time when she’d been strong or independent. And nothing had changed in the past ten years.

      “Then what do you want?” Eve asked.

      He’d never thought of himself as chauvinistic, but right then, he really wanted Eve to say she’d stay with Victoria and be there for her until they could meet for a vacation. But he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Part of him worried that their marriage would not exactly be smooth sailing. Right now, the only options he had were to have Victoria stranded in London with another stranger or the option he knew he had to choose. He took a breath then said words that he barely had time to measure. “Bring her here on your way to Mexico.”

      “What?” Eve sounded shocked, as if he’d told her to walk on water.

      “You’re flying to Acapulco, so make a stopover in Houston and bring her with you.”

      She laughed again, but this time there was little humor in it. It was more nervous disbelief. “Are you bonkers? How can you take care of her and do your job?”

      He didn’t have a clue, but he said, “I’ll work it out. Just get Mrs. Ferris to pack Victoria’s things, then let me know when your flight arrives.”

      “Okay,” she murmured. “But what about our holiday after you’re done there?”

      He couldn’t even think about that. “We’ll work it out.”

      “I’ll hold you to that,” she said softly. “I’ve missed you.”

      “I’ve missed you, too.” Suddenly the idea of Eve in Houston was very tempting. If she could stay over a day or so, to get Victoria settled and to spend time with him, that wouldn’t be all bad. “Let me know when you’re arriving.”

      “We’ll try to get out of here in three days. And, Jack?”

      He had things to do, and his mood shifted. He wanted to get off the phone and get on with things. “Yes?”

      “I love you.”

      He closed his eyes again. “I know.”

      “No, love, you’re supposed to say, ‘I love you, too.’ If you love me.”

      He exhaled and felt the tension building inside him. “Love you,” he said.

      “No, say, ‘I, Jack, love you, Eve,’ the way most fiancées would do.”

      “Eve, not now,” he said tightly.

      “Okay,” she said. “I can wait.”

      He exhaled. “Call?”

      “Sure. As soon as I know. Now I have to make the child understand what’s going on. Not that I think she understands much of anything. But I’ll try…just for you.”

      Victoria understood, he didn’t doubt that. She just didn’t react to anything. He wished there was some way to get into her mind to see what was going on. “You’re terrific.”

      “Absolutely, and remember that,” Eve said, then the line went dead.

      He slowly hung up, and tried to figure out where to start. Zane was gone, Matt hadn’t shown up yet. Rita. He could ask her about nannies or baby-sitters. She seemed to be indispensable to both Matt and Zane. Maybe she could find someone to step in and be with Victoria, and possibly get something set up in the loft for the little girl. If he had to, he’d move to another place, as long as he could be hooked up to the office wherever he went.

      He turned to go and find Rita, but stopped in his tracks, stunned to see Rain standing in the open door of Zane’s office, watching him. It was as if the thought of the loft had conjured her up, making her materialize not more then ten feet away from him. But he could see her breathing, could almost catch a hint of that flowery essence that clung to her. She was very real.

      Rain. With her hair sleekly pulled back form her finely boned face, exposing how large her eyes were, he could see a faint suggestion of freckles dusting her small nose. She was in tailored dark slacks, an almost prim white top and—he looked down—no bare feet. White dress sandals. Even without her tie-dyed T-shirt and loose hair, she didn’t look as if she belonged here at all.

      Rain faced Jack Ford from the doorway to Zane Holden’s office, and knew that his shock at seeing her had been as great as her shock seeing him moments ago. She’d expected Lindsey Holden, a woman who had almost attained sainthood in the eyes of the people she’d just talked to. Even the personnel man had almost waxed poetic about how much the woman had done for the day-care center.

      But it wasn’t Lindsey she was facing now. It was the man she’d heard on the phone moments earlier, his back to her, speaking in a low voice. She’d watched the way his shoulders tested the fine fabric of his silky shirt when he took a breath, then said, “Love you.” They must have been said to his fiancée, but they were said with something of a throwaway. As if they weren’t nearly as important to him as they should be.

      Now he was looking right at her. Actually, he was looking her over. From her head to her feet, then back to her face, and she couldn’t begin to read his thoughts. She hated it when a person was so closed that you had to guess at what they were thinking and feeling.