“Can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear,” Mrs. Malone had told her more than once while she was growing up. Mrs. Malone had run the children’s shelter where she had spent most of her youth, and the message had stuck that much more because Mrs. Malone had meant it to be kind. To prevent her from being set up for any future disappointments. “A girl has to know her limits, you know,” she’d firmly asserted.
And Greer knew hers.
“I’m Greer Lawford,” Greer finally said, retreating to the persona she was most comfortable with, the one she had created when she’d forged out into the corporate world. That Greer was strong and confident, good at whatever she did no matter what it was she chose to do.
In high school she’d discovered that she had an aptitude for learning, and ever since, she had made a point of acquainting herself with whatever world she ventured into. Not just learning about it but mastering it. Like a person deprived of one sense, she made the others that much more sensitive and acute in order to compensate. In her case, she figured that what she lacked was looks. She was determined to make up for it with brains.
And by making herself indispensable to the person she worked for. Which was why she was here when she would much rather be behind a desk, manning phones and pulling together the two hundred and twenty-nine different strings that were involved in making this holiday reunion a success.
She forced herself to return Alyssa’s smile. “I work for Mrs. Megan Maitland.”
Alyssa looked at Rafe. “Maitland. Is that your mother?”
Bethany was trying to chew on one of his buttons. Rafe drew it away from her mouth. “My aunt, according to Greer.”
Why was it that every time he said her name, she had the impression he was going to follow it with a full-bellied laugh? Greer wasn’t that ridiculous a name, she thought defensively.
Alyssa looked surprised and oddly tickled. “Hey, I didn’t know you had a family.”
Rafe shrugged dismissively. He didn’t really like talking about any of his family.
“A very large family,” Greer said before Rafe had the opportunity to say anything. She had a feeling there was a disclaimer on his lips and she didn’t want to give him a chance to utter it. “And Mrs. Maitland wants to gather everyone together in Texas for a big family celebration this year.”
Her arms devoid of the baby, Alyssa smoothed down her shirt and looked at Rafe with what appeared to be a touch of hope. “Sounds like fun. You going to go?”
Afraid he was going to say no, Greer jumped in to answer. “Yes, he is.”
Dark brows drew together over a nose that could almost be called delicate. Greer wondered if he resembled his mother or his father.
“Don’t get carried away with this engagement thing,” he warned her. “I can still do my own talking and my own answering.”
“Engagement?” Alyssa echoed. Curiosity quickly painted itself across her fine features along with more than a touch of disappointment. “When did all this happen?”
“It didn’t,” Rafe told her, switching Bethany to his other side. The area around half his buttons was wet from the toddler’s questing mouth and grasping fingers. “I figured an ‘engagement’ was the best way to keep Bethany and my word to Rory and Lil.”
“But it’s not real.” Alyssa sounded as if she wanted to make perfectly certain of that fact.
“No, it’s not real,” Rafe assured her.
“Oh.” Alyssa nodded, obviously understanding what he was saying.
But she didn’t, Greer thought, and she decided it was time someone filled her in. She turned, looking at Rafe. “I think we’ve come full circle, Mr. Maitland.”
“I think if we’re going to be engaged, you’d better call me Rafe. And,” he added, shaking his head at Bethany, who was once again reaching for his shirt and the fascinating buttons, “you’d better learn how to talk a whole lot plainer than that.” Rafe looked at Greer, his brow raised. “What do you mean, full circle?”
She could feel Alyssa studying her. Her discomfort grew. “Well, I asked you to explain to me why you need a fiancée and you were about to tell me when the door opened.” She spared Alyssa a glance.
To underscore his point, Rafe grasped Bethany by the waist with both hands and held her up. The little girl laughed and cooed, then clapped her hands as if this were a familiar game between them.
“This—” he nodded at Bethany “—is why I need a fiancée.”
Greer still wasn’t quite following him. “Your daughter?”
“Not yet.” Lowering her, he tucked Bethany against him again with a practiced movement Greer found intriguing. Most men she knew were uncomfortable with children that size. “But she will be once I can file adoption papers.” His face grew grave. “In order to do that, I have to have clear claim to her.”
“And you don’t,” Greer guessed. For someone who gave the impression that he was a man of few words, he certainly seemed to like stretching things out.
He scowled, thinking of the threat that Lil’s relatives posed. “No, not right now.”
Still confused, Greer looked to the other woman for a further explanation, but there was no enlightenment coming from that quarter.
“I’d better be getting back,” Alyssa announced suddenly, as if she’d just become aware of the time. “I have to be putting dinner on the table soon. Mr. Owen doesn’t like to be kept waiting. If you need anything—” she underlined the word, looking at Rafe “—just call. Nice meeting you,” she added as an afterthought, glancing at Greer. The next moment, Alyssa slipped out the front door.
“Same here,” Greer murmured, her voice utterly flat.
Rafe caught the uncomfortable note in her voice and looked at her curiously.
She didn’t care for the way he seemed to be continually scrutinizing her. It made her feel awkward, as if she were found wanting. To get his attention off her and back to her yet unanswered questions, Greer nodded at Bethany. “Whose baby is that?”
Because of the hour, Bethany had begun settling down. He knew that Alyssa had already changed and fed her. He stroked the fine, dark hair. “She belonged to Lil and Rory Butler.”
Greer picked up on the past tense. “The friends you mentioned earlier?”
“You were paying attention.” A minor smile gracing his lips, Rafe nodded his approval.
If there was one thing these schoolmarm types were, it was sticklers for detail. He figured that having her in the courtroom as his fiancée might impress the judge enough to make him see things Rafe’s way. After all, he was young, with his whole life in front of him, and the Prestons were well past their primes. Too old to be taking care of a one-year-old, really, he reasoned.
“I always pay attention,” she informed him.
He didn’t like the coolness in her voice. You would have thought he’d insulted her.
“Good.” His voice was crisp, matching hers. “Then I won’t have to repeat myself. Lil and Rory were killed in a car accident a little more than a month ago. I always knew they wanted me to be Bethany’s guardian, but it’s not really the kind of thing you pay attention to when the people you’re talking to are twenty-three years old and in perfect health.”
If he had paid attention, maybe he would have tried to talk them