Hunter's Bride and A Mother's Wish. Marta Perry. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Marta Perry
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon Love Inspired
Жанр произведения: Короткие любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781408965559
Скачать книгу
us—not yet, anyway.”

      Gran’s wise old eyes studied Chloe. “Don’t think you can fool me, Chloe Elizabeth.”

      Her heart stopped. “What do you mean?”

      “I mean, I can see how well the two of you fit together. You care about him, don’t you?”

      She couldn’t lie about it with Gran looking at her. “Maybe so. But that doesn’t mean it’s going to be a lifetime love or anything.”

      Gran patted her hand. “You just keep in mind that verse I gave you on the day you were baptized. God has plans for you, plans to give you hope and a future. You trust in that, you hear?”

      She blinked back tears, thinking of the needlepoint sampler Gran had made—the one that went everywhere with her. “I’ll try.”

      “Besides, now that Luke’s here, maybe we can help things along.”

      Panic ripped through her. “Don’t you dare do any matchmaking. If things are meant to happen between us, they will.”

      “No harm in helping it along. I want to see another Caldwell bride before I’m too old to enjoy it.”

      “Gran—”

      “Are you ladies having a private conversation, or can anyone join in?”

      Chloe’s breath caught at the sound of Luke’s voice. She’d been so intent that she hadn’t noticed him cross the room to them. She looked up, trying to smile, hoping Gran hadn’t heard that betraying little gasp. Hoping even more that Luke hadn’t heard it. There were no two ways about it—the sooner they got back to Chicago and their normal lives, the better for everyone.

      “Always glad to have a good-looking man to talk to.” Gran fluttered her eyelashes at him outrageously. “Especially one that I haven’t known since he was in diapers.”

      “Gran,” Chloe murmured. Just a few more hours, and we’ll be on a plane. I’ll forget this weekend ever happened.

      Luke’s baritone chuckle was like a feather, tickling her skin. “If you want someone to flirt with, Mrs. Caldwell, I’m your man.”

      “Thought I told you to call me ‘Gran’. Everyone else does. How are you liking Caldwell Cove, now that you’ve been here a spell?”

      “Beautiful,” he said promptly. “Now I know why Chloe is always talking about this place.” He put his arm around Chloe’s waist, and she tried not to pull away. “It’s the most peaceful spot I’ve seen in years.”

      “Well, then, you ought to stay a bit longer.” Naturally Gran would pounce on that. “Spring’s a perfect time for a vacation. Why don’t you two stay on?”

      Chloe waited confidently for Luke’s excuses—they had to get back to the office, he had other plans, anything. They didn’t come.

      “You know, that might not be such a bad idea.” He squeezed Chloe. “What do you think, Chloe? How about if we take a few vacation days and stay for a while?”

      If the rag rug at her feet had jumped up and bitten her, she couldn’t have been more shocked. “Are you…?” Crazy was what she wanted to say, but she bit back the word. “I don’t think you’ve thought this through. We have work waiting for us at the office.” She flashed him a look that should have singed, but he just smiled.

      “Work will always wait.” He turned to her grandmother. “Don’t you agree, Gran?”

      Before Gran could answer, Chloe took a step away, her fingers biting into his arm. “Let’s go out on the porch, dear.” She added the endearment through clenched teeth. “I need to talk with you.”

      Fuming, she tugged him through the crowd, emerging at last onto the porch and a quiet corner. She swung to face him, anger overcoming the deference she usually felt toward him. “What on earth was that all about? Why did you let my grandmother think we might stay longer?”

      “Because we’re going to.” His smile was the one he wore when he crossed swords with a business opponent. “You should know I wouldn’t kid about something like that.”

      The porch floor rocked under her feet like the Spyhop in a storm. “I don’t understand. We’re leaving in a little over an hour. We have tickets for tonight.”

      “We can change those easily enough.”

      “Probably, but why should we?” Her head began to throb. “This charade was meant to last a brief weekend, remember?”

      “Relax, Chloe.” He leaned against the porch railing, but his face was anything but relaxed. “I’m talking business, not romance.”

      From the house she could hear the cheerful buzz of voices, of people having a good time and forgetting everything else in their celebration. But here, the sagging old porch had taken on the air of a corporate office.

      “What do you mean? What business?”

      His gaze seemed to grasp her. “Hotel business. I’m looking into siting the next Dalton Resort hotel here, on or near Caldwell Island.”

      “Here?” She could only gape at him. “I don’t understand.” Then she did, and it hit her like a blow. “That’s why you wanted to come here with me, isn’t it. You wanted to check it out.”

      You didn’t come to help me. Disappointment filled her heart. She’d thought he had done this out of misguided kindness, out of that urge he had to direct everything, because he cared about her. He hadn’t. He’d done it to advance his career.

      He shrugged. “You needed to be bailed out with your family. I needed a good excuse for being here, so I could see if the area was suitable. It is. Now we have to stay until I can decide on a specific site and put the acquisition in motion.” His gaze sharpened. “What’s the matter? I thought you’d be jumping with joy at the idea of bringing a little prosperity to the old hometown.”

      “It means change,” she said slowly, trying to sort out her feelings.

      “Of course, it means change. Jobs, for one thing. You’re not going to tell me this area couldn’t use a nice fat payroll.”

      “I suppose it could.” No more lean times when the fish didn’t run. No need for young people to leave home to make a living. He was right, she should be happy.

      In the room behind them, someone, probably her father, had begun playing the fiddle. “Lorena,” one of her grandmother’s favorites. The haunting air stirred misty echoes of a past that wasn’t forgotten here. It was an odd counterpoint to the discussion they were having. “I’d like to tell my father about this.”

      “Absolutely not.” His voice snapped, and her gaze jerked up to his.

      He glanced beyond her, toward the door, then clasped her arm and drew her to the end of the porch. He stopped there, his back to the house, his arm around her. Anyone looking out would think they were seeing a romantic tryst.

      “Sorry.” His voice lowered. “It’s not that I don’t trust your family, but you know what it will be like if word gets out as to why I’m here. Every landowner in three counties will be trying to con me into paying top dollar for a piece of worthless swamp. We can’t risk it.”

      His arm was warm and strong around her waist. That warmth crept through her, weakening her will to resist. We, he’d said. They were a team, like always. “But…you can’t mean to continue this charade even longer.” She hoped she didn’t sound as horrified as she felt.

      “Why not?” He hugged her a little closer, and his breath touched her cheek. “We’ve been doing a good job so far. There’s no reason for anyone to guess we’re not involved.”

      “I don’t want to tell any more lies to my family.” She tried to pull free, but he held her firmly.

      “You don’t have