The Ready-Made Family (Silhouette Special Edition) Page 4

  “Wait,” Harrison commanded, his tone going from icy and gruff to warm and husky. “Sorry to growl. I wasn’t expecting anyone—the perils of having a gorgon for a secretary. She wouldn’t let the devil himself into my office during a meeting.”

  Isa pulled her ragged composure around her and re- sorted to the teasing humor she used with him. “Be- cause he’s already present?” she suggested, giving him a bold once-over.

  Her quip drew a snort of surprised laughter from Ken, the financial genius. People didn’t talk to Harrison Stone like that and get away with it, she surmised.

  Well, she was just full of surprises, and the biggest one was still to come.

  Harrison’s eyes crinkled attractively at the corners as he, too, chuckled. He came to her. His hand on her arm stopped her departure. He reached around and closed the door she’d just opened.

  “You’ll pay for that smart remark,” he promised. “Later.”

  A thrill of longing coursed through her. She fought to maintain her equilibrium. Blackmailers had to be tough. They couldn’t fall for sexy smiles and bedroom eyes.

  “Stay.” He gestured toward the wall of books. “Help yourself. There’s an easy chair that’s made for reading. It’s one of my favorites.” Now he was all charming host, seeing to her comfort and entertainment.

  “That’s okay. I can fend for myself. I’m not a child that has to be indulged or entertained.”

  Keeping her expression neutral, but pleasant, she let him guide her to the leather recliner and remove her jacket. He laid it over the arm of a matching chair.

  “Believe me, I don’t think of you as a child.” His smile was purely male.

  She settled in the chair while he leaned over the pol- ished walnut table between the two easy chairs and turned a three-way reading lamp to its brightest setting. He pointed out the button so she could adjust the recliner to the angle she wanted. Then he went back to his desk and the work there.

  “Now,” Ken said, resuming their conversation, “I’ve found a better supply of turquoise, so we’re okay on that.”

  Isa selected a book on birds of North America and silently leafed through it while listening to the conver- sation from the other end of the room. The two men were totally engaged in the business of wheeling and dealing.

  Any illusions she might have cherished about having a special place in Harrison’s life had been dispelled by his abrupt reaction to her interruption.

  That was good. She’d needed to be reminded that life was real. Illusions had no place in her plans.

  At six, she drifted into the kitchen and looked through the cabinets and refrigerator. Apparently Har- rison didn’t allow time for eating when engrossed in contracts and such.

  She found some frozen pasta and green beans. That was a start. A can of crabmeat. A bottle of white Cha- blis. Ah. She had the makings of a meal.

  While the pasta was heating in the microwave oven, she prepared a cream sauce, added the can of crabmeat, sprinkled in some Parmesan cheese and voilà!

  “Dinner,” she yelled down the hall at seven.

  The two men arrived almost before the word died away. “I meant to take you out tonight,” Harrison said rather sheepishly. “You’ve been a sport today.” He brushed a kiss across her forehead as she passed him with the bowl of green beans.

  Ken stared in shock at this display. Apologizing even in a roundabout way obviously wasn’t the boss’s style.

  The men washed up in the utility room next to the kitchen. She’d already set the dining room table and brought the food in. On an impulse, she lit the four candles in a crystal candelabra and placed it in the cen- ter of the table.

  When Ken and Harrison appeared, she took the host- ess position at the table and smiled graciously. “Gen- tlemen, please be seated.”

  She watched Harrison’s expression to see how he would handle her taking over like this. To her relief, he merely grinned and took his place to her right. Ken sat in the remaining chair.

  Isa picked up a fork when the men were settled. They began on the salads. After eating the pasta dish, the green beans with sesame seeds and hot rolls, she served coffee and warm cookies, also found in the plentiful freezer.

  Harrison leaned toward her, his wineglass raised in a salute. “To a delightful and multitalented guest.”

  His eyes left no doubt in her mind about which tal- ents he referred to. Warmth crept around her heart. She looked away from his admiring gaze.

  “Hear, hear,” Ken echoed. They drank to her.

  “Well, back to work. We should be finished in another hour,” Harrison told her when they’d eaten. “Leave the dishes. I’ll take care of them later.”

  After he and his controller left, she cleaned the kitchen by herself and went to her room to prepare for bed. So much for getting to a man’s heart through his stomach….

  Harrison slipped through the hall like a sneak thief in his stocking feet. It was almost midnight. Isa had been a jewel all day. A forebearing one. Most women demanded all a man’s time and attention, especially on a weekend at a mountain retreat.

  That was probably why he’d never brought anyone up here. He didn’t have many moments to spare for the required mating rituals that females demanded. Except Isa didn’t make demands.

  She didn’t need attention every minute, either. She could amuse herself. And she could cook. Yeah, she was a paragon of womanly talents. All of which he liked.

  Coming to her door, he paused, then knocked as qui- etly as he could. He’d hoped she would wait up for him. The need to see her was strong. He fought a battle with himself and lost.

  He tried the knob and found the door unlocked. He slipped inside and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark.

  Going to the bed, he stopped beside it. She was asleep, one arm curled over her head, the other across her rib cage. The covers were tucked neatly over her breasts.

  The moonlight highlighted the curve of her prominent cheekbones and the smoothness of her brow. She looked incredibly young and vulnerable in her long-sleeved nightgown, her hair spread over the pillow like black silk.

  Desire tore at him. Oddly, not all of it was sexual. There were other emotions mixed in. He hadn’t had the time to get involved with a woman in years, not since his college sweetheart had gone home for Christmas vacation and returned engaged to a senator’s son.

  He smiled. He’d taken it hard at the time, but later, he’d been glad. She’d turned into a nagging shrew, he had heard.

  Suppressing the urge to climb under the covers with the sleeping beauty, he turned and padded out, going down the hall to his moonlight-flooded room and mem- ories of holding her.

  Isa opened her eyes when she was sure Harrison was gone. Her heart had nearly leapt out of her chest while he’d stood there watching her. It had taken all the con- trol she could summon to feign a deep and peaceful slumber.

  After waiting a half hour, she couldn’t stand the sus- pense another minute. If she was going to act, she’d better get on with it. Before her nerve ran out.

  Reminding herself of all the reasons she was carrying out this dangerous plan, she dressed in black. Taking a tiny flashlight from her purse, she tiptoed down the stairs to the study Harrison had used earlier.

  Thank goodness he was such an organized person. The contract was lined up on his desk, along with the various reports Zeke Merry had demanded. If what she’d learned the past month was true, the crotchety old man would walk out of a deal if every single detail wasn’t to his liking.

  Unless he married her, Harrison would find out how Mr. Merry reacted to the contract being cancelled.

  All the doubts she’d ever felt dropped on her shoul- ders. It took more energy to be a thief than she’d ever realized.

  Without giving herself time to consider further, she scooped the contract and reports into a black nylon case. She laid some paper out to replace the items in case Harrison noticed the real stuff was missing before she was ready for him to do so.

&nbs
p; Feeling like a snake, she slithered back up the stairs to her room. Now where could she hide the nylon bag until she could make good on her proposition for him?

  Her bedroom would be the first place Harrison checked, so her suitcase was out. In the shower, she decided. She’d hang it over the showerhead. No one would think of looking there.

  So how come she had?

  Better try someplace else. An obvious place. That was least noticed, she’d once read. Hide in plain sight.

  Where was an obvious place no one would ever think to look?

  Under the mattress, of course.

  Ha. Ha. Very brilliant.

  After another ten minutes of considering, she fol- lowed her instincts and hung the bag in the back of the closet. There in the shadows no one would notice it, even in daylight. Maybe.

  At one, she crept back into bed, but no matter how many sheep she tried to count, they kept turning into shiny metal bars…prison bars. She got up and moved the incriminating evidence twice.

  As the sun backlit the eastern edge of the mountains, Isa put on a pot of coffee. Clouds were moving in from the west. She wondered if that meant snow or rain.

  “Good morning.”

  Every muscle in her body jumped. She jerked around to face Harrison. She could feel the blood drain from her face. She must look as guilty as a deacon caught in a bawdy house.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” His smile was slow and easy. “You’re up early.”

  Her blood circulated again as she realized he wasn’t going to attack her and demand to know what she’d done with the loot.

  “Yes. I’m not usually a morning person.”

  “Aren’t you?” His softly drawled question added other shades of meaning to the words, layer upon layer, as if they had been lovers a long time. As if they were real lovers.

  His eyes gleamed as he gave her a thorough once- over that left her trembling like an aspen leaf. She was acutely aware that over her nightgown she wore the same robe he’d wrapped around her after their sojourn in the hot tub. She hadn’t expected him to be up at this time of the day after working so late.

  “No, but it is rather nice to greet the day when ev- erything is all fresh and…” She’d started to say pure, but that didn’t seem quite appropriate. “And new.”

  She refocused on her task and turned the water off. She carefully poured every drop into the coffeemaker and flipped the switch. In a few seconds, its friendly gurgle filled the tense silence of the kitchen.

  No, only she was tense. Harrison had a lazy grin plas- tered on his face. What was he so pleased about, any- way?

  But then, why shouldn’t he be pleased? He’d lived a life of luxury while her family had scraped by on prac- tically nothing.

  His father had sent him to Yale. She’d won a schol- arship and worked her way through college. She’d paid her way through high school, too, buying her own clothes and supplies.

  But life would be different for Rick. He was going to have his chance, no matter what she had to do to secure it.

  “Come here,” Harrison coaxed in a soft voice.

  “What for?”

  His assurance that she would do as his bidding caused an unexpected jolt of anger to race over her. She fought a quick battle with her temper while trying to look sassy and only mildly interested in his answer.

  She attributed her grumpiness to lack of sleep and the jumpy state of her nerves. After all, she’d never set out on a life of crime before this.

  His chuckle preceded him across the room. “Hmm. If the lady won’t come to the mountain, the mountain will have to come to the lady. The mountain doesn’t mind as long as the end result is the same.”

  He stopped no more than an inch away. The manly scent of him washed over her. He’d showered before coming down, and he smelled as fresh as a pine tree.

  Her throat closed. The air wheezed in and out of her lungs like a rusty accordion. When he braced his hands on the counter on each side of her, she went hot and dizzy.

  When she drew a calming breath, balsam aftershave, soap and talc assailed her. If warmth had a scent, that was part of it, too—his male warmth, his bigness, his masculine gentleness.

  She inhaled carefully, as if she were a thin crystal container ingesting some potent liquid.

  Careful. She had to keep her wits.

  “Isa,” he murmured.

  She heard the need, saw the raw hunger in his eyes. “Shall we have breakfast?” she asked, not meeting his gaze.

  “Isa,” he said again. This time it was a growl of demand.

  Taking a steadying breath, she gave him her full at- tention, her expression artfully bland.

  Harrison felt a rush of anger when Isa finally met his gaze. Her expression was the same unreadable one he’d seen a hundred times in the past month. It was as in- triguing as an unopened package, as frustrating as a misplaced set of keys.

  When she looked at him like this—her face so still and composed, her mouth curved into the barest sug- gestion of a smile—it seemed as if he could see forever in her eyes.

  Until he realized a mist whirled and eddied in those green, mysterious depths, obscuring the alluring secrets her enigmatic smile promised she’d reveal to him and him alone.

  “Hell,” he said.

  That startled her. For a second, he thought he saw wariness and some other emotion in those soulful eyes, then it was gone. She smiled brightly at him.

  “Curses so early in the morning?” she chided, laugh- ing at his ill-concealed temper.

  He leaned over her and inhaled deeply. “You smell good,” he murmured. “Like a field of crimson clover. Makes a man think of things….” He nuzzled her ear. “Like early-morning romps.” He kissed the corner of her eye. “Like lying in a bed of grass.”

  She laid her hands, palm down, on his chest. Not in a caress, he noted, but to hold him at bay.

  Raising his head, he studied her face, or what he could see of it. She kept it averted from him.

  “What is it?” he demanded, puzzled by her attitude. “Are you embarrassed at being here with me?”

  “No, of course not.”

  She held his gaze until he sighed and rested his fore- head on hers. Ah, God, the sweetness of it, the mind- boggling delight in holding her, touching her, kissing her….

  He abandoned the flight of fancy and brought his mind firmly back to earth. “Believe me, I was as sur- prised by the fire between us as you were. I can’t re- member another woman affecting me like that.”

  For a second, she went utterly still. Her eyes searched his. “How?” she asked. “What do you mean?”

  “Well…” He grinned and kissed her upturned nose. “When I think of you, I get all. breathless and dizzy. And when I see you, it gets worse. The first time I laid eyes on you, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. Do you think I should see a doctor?” he teased, keeping it light.

  In the most subtle of shifts, the mist filled her eyes, obscuring whatever thoughts she might have revealed.

  “It doesn’t sound too serious. Probably a good night’s sleep will take care of it. The coffee is ready.”

  Before he quite knew how it happened, she’d dipped under the barrier of his arm and removed two mugs from the cabinet. She poured them each some coffee and left his on the counter while she went to the window to gaze out at the lake.

  “Clouds are moving in. Do you think it will snow?”

  He grabbed the mug and followed her. It came to him that he’d been following her lead all month. Maybe it was time for him to call the shots.

  “Maybe.” He stopped at her side and sipped the hot brew while trying to decide exactly what shot he wanted to call. “I can’t decide what to do about you,” he ad- mitted.

  “What do you want to do?”

  With any other woman, the words would have been provocative. With this one, they were an added layer of confusion. She sounded sincere.

  “Take you to bed—”

  “That might not
be wise,” she broke in.

  “And keep you there for a month, or two, or three.”

  Fascinated, he watched a delicate pink tint climb up her neck and into her cheeks. Again, he wished they were alone at the cabin.

  “But I have business to attend to,” he said. He sounded disgruntled even to himself. Damn, he really was going off the deep end.

  “Just think of all that money you’re going to make,” she reminded him. “I, um, need to go upstairs and dress. I’ll just be a minute.” She left the kitchen without looking back.

  Harrison stood there, watching her until she disap- peared up the stairs to the bedroom level. Frowning, he turned back to the glazed, doubled-paned window. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was running from him. The question was…why?

  He didn’t get a chance to ponder the question. Ken came down to breakfast a few minutes later. He set his controller to scrambling eggs while he stuck a pan of store-bought biscuits in the oven, then started sausage patties cooking.

  When Isa returned, this time wearing loafers and jeans with a white turtleneck under a green cable-knit sweater, she set the table in the breakfast nook. They discussed the coming storm while they ate.

  He noticed she was all demure composure as she talked to Ken as if they were old buddies. Jealousy was something new to him, but damned if he didn’t feel it toward his old friend and college chum, who seemed to put Isa at ease with his corny jokes.

  Glancing at his watch, he realized he didn’t have time to solve the mystery of Isa Chavez this weekend. But sometime soon, he promised himself, he’d find out what made her tick.

  “I’d like to go over those figures one more time,” he said to Ken. “We’re running a pretty close margin on profit, and I want to make sure we’ve accounted for every dime.”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll do the dishes,” Isa volunteered.

  “I’ll help,” Harrison insisted. “You did everything last night.”

  In the end, they all three worked together. Then Har- rison and Ken headed for the study. He was worried about selling off a slice of the mine. It was only twenty percent, but the mine had belonged to his family. He picked up the papers on his desk.