McCabe's Baby Bargain

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McCabe's Baby Bargain Page 20

by Cathy Gillen Thacker


  She took a deep breath and blew it out. “No. I’m from New Orleans.”

  From the corner of her eye, she could see a faint smile touch his lips. “So that’s where that lilting drawl of yours comes from.”

  “And yours doesn’t exactly sound Texan. Are you a native Austinite?”

  “No. My family is originally from Florida, but in the past several years most of them, including me, have migrated here to Texas.”

  “I see. So you and your family obviously like it here,” she said.

  “Very much.”

  Savannah sighed as thoughts of her father once again drifted through her mind. Since the day of the family meeting, she’d expected him to be fighting her tooth and nail over this Austin trip. Instead, he’d avoided her completely. Even this morning, before she left the Fortune mansion to catch her flight, she expected him to give her a few parting words of warning. Instead, her mother had informed her that Miles had skipped breakfast to make an early downtown business meeting. So much for worrying about her safety, she thought glumly, much less wishing her good luck.

  “Is anything wrong?” her driver asked.

  Was her state of mind so transparent that a stranger could read her troubled thoughts? She darted a glance at him.

  “No. Everything is fine,” she said. “I’ll just be glad to get to my apartment. I’ve never really cared for flying. Once I’m back on solid ground, I always feel drained.”

  “Have you done much of it? Flying, that is.”

  From the corner of her eye, she could see his left hand resting comfortably on the steering wheel. There was no sign of a wedding band and the fact that she was even bothering to look caused a tinge of embarrassment to warm her cheeks.

  What are you thinking, Savannah? Take a closer gander at this guy. You think he got those muscles from relaxing in a recliner in front of the TV? This man is as far from married as a man can get.

  Clearing her throat, she pulled her straying thoughts back to his question. “I’ve flown across country many times, and overseas. I see it as a necessary evil to get to where I’m going. What about you? Do you travel much?”

  “I used to. But not since I’ve moved to Austin. I guess you could say I’ve already gotten to where I’m going.”

  She smiled at him. “Hmm. That must be nice. To know that you’re in the right place and exactly where you belong.”

  By now, they were traveling a busy highway that led deeper into the city. If Savannah had taken a taxi as she’d originally planned, she would’ve been taking note of her surroundings and the city skyline ahead of them. But Chaz Mendoza’s huge masculine presence was distracting her from seeing Austin clearly for the first time.

  “Is that why you’ve come to Texas? To figure out where you belong?”

  It was a rather personal question to be posed by a stranger, she thought. Especially one who’d been hired to simply drive her from the airport to her apartment. But to be fair, she hadn’t exactly been discussing the weather with him.

  “Not really. I know my roots are in New Orleans. I’m here because I’ve been invited to partake in a study group at the university for a few weeks.”

  “That sounds very impressive.”

  At least someone thinks so, Savannah thought. “I feel honored to be included. It’s something I’ve been wanting and working toward for a long time.”

  “What are you studying?”

  “Epidemiology.”

  “Sorry, you’ll have to explain that a bit more. I’m not a science person.”

  She wanted to ask what kind of person he was, but quickly decided that would be too obvious. The last thing she wanted this man to think was that she was flirting with him. For heaven’s sake, she didn’t flirt with anyone. It wasn’t her nature. Besides, she didn’t have time for such nonsense.

  “Don’t feel badly. Most people aren’t familiar with the word. It’s a study of diseases. Why people get them and what we can do to prevent them—as in finding the biggest risk factors. There are different fields to study in epidemiology. For instance how certain diseases affect society and the workplace and the cost of caring for such illnesses.”

  “And what field are you focusing on?”

  No doubt, he was asking just to make polite conversation, Savannah decided. Most men around her age were turned off by the subject. He might be truly interested if she were discussing quarterbacks in the NFL, or point guards in the NBA, but not medical science.

  “I’m concentrating on the branch that studies why people get diseases and certain illnesses and what we can do to prevent them.”

  “An admirable profession, I’d say.”

  “I like to think so. My studies—” She broke off as she realized she was about to say her studies consumed her life. For some reason she didn’t want this sexy man to think she was little more than a brain in a white lab coat. “They’re very important to me. So that’s why I’m here in Austin.”

  He glanced in her direction and Savannah got the strange impression he was something more than just a driver for the university. The notion shook her, until he smiled and then suddenly everything felt right again.

  “Well, welcome to Texas, Miss Fortune. I hope you enjoy your time here.”

  “Thanks. I hope I do, too.”

  * * *

  This was going to be much harder than he’d ever anticipated, Chaz decided, as he braked the car to a stop in front of the luxurious gated apartment building where Miss Savannah Fortune would be living until she finished her stint at the university.

  Obviously, her father had told her nothing about hiring a bodyguard to protect her while she was here in Austin. And Chaz had yet to find the right moment to tell her exactly why he’d intercepted her at the airport.

  If she’d hadn’t looked so damned beautiful when he spotted her emerging through the doors of the terminal, his brain might have remained focused on his job. And if she hadn’t been so open and warm when he’d introduced himself, he might’ve been able to come right out and inform her that he was working for her father.

  But the sight of Savannah had thrown him for a loop. She’d scarcely resembled the foggy pic Miles Fortune had texted him earlier this morning. It was a good thing the man had warned Chaz she’d be dressed in a cream-colored pencil skirt and a pale pink blouse; otherwise, he would’ve missed her entirely.

  Damn the man! When Miles Fortune had first contacted Chaz about providing security for his daughter, he’d described Savannah as the studious sort, who rarely took her nose out of a book. According to him, she had a very limited social life and made a point of avoiding men entirely. She’d be easy to keep an eye on, Miles had told him.

  Hell, the man was either blind or knew very little about his own child, Chaz thought with a heavy dose of frustration. Keeping his eyes on Savannah Fortune was going to be easy. It was keeping his hands off her for the next few weeks that was going to pose the problem.

  Chaz had assumed he was going to be guarding a meek young woman, whose idea of an exciting evening was to watch an educational channel on TV. This young beauty looked as though she’d be very much at home on the dance floor and in the arms of a very attentive man.

  Trying not to dwell on that image, he peered across the narrow console to see she was leaning slightly forward, peering through the windshield at the entrance of the apartment. The movement caused a long curtain of smooth brown hair to slip forward and partially hide her face. Chaz wanted to reach over and tuck the silky strands behind her ear. Not because he needed to see her lovely features. No, the image of her face was already burned into his brain. He simply wanted to touch her and discover for himself if she felt as soft and womanly as she actually looked.

  “That’s the correct number,” she stated happily. “And the outside certainly looks pretty.”

  Chaz pulled his gaze away from her long enough to study
the entrance to the redbrick apartment. A dark green door with a brass knocker was shaded by the overhang of a square concrete porch. On one corner, a huge planter spilled over with red and pink geraniums.

  The apartment was definitely not typical budget-friendly housing, he decided. It was for the elite class and more like a fancy townhouse than an apartment. But then, he’d not expected anything less from a Fortune.

  “I’d say it appears to be exceptionally nice. Did you rent it sight unseen?”

  She nodded. “Live Oak Lane is supposed to be one of the best gated communities in Austin and I studied photos on their website before I signed the lease. But sometimes pics can be doctored. I’m hoping that’s not the case when I see the inside of the apartment.” She unlatched her seat belt and pulled the strap of an expensive leather handbag over her shoulder. “If you’ll be kind enough to help me get my bags to the door, I’ll let you be on your way.”

  “My pleasure,” he murmured.

  After pushing a button to release the trunk, he skirted the hood to help her out of the car. When she placed her little hand in his, Chaz was instantly swamped with all sorts of protective feelings. Most of which had nothing to do with his job.

  Once she was standing next to him on the concrete drive, she looked up at him and smiled and though he was cursing at himself to step back and wedge a respectable amount of distance between them, all he could do was hold on to her fingers and stare into her hazel eyes. Green, blue or brown, he wasn’t sure which color was dominant, but he was quite certain he’d never seen anything so sparkly or full of life.

  “Thank you, Chaz.”

  “You’re entirely welcome, Miss Fortune.”

  Clearing his throat, he forced himself to drop her hand and turn to the task of lifting her bags from the trunk. As soon as he had them on the ground, she grabbed up a floral tote and a midsized suitcase with wheels.

  “I can manage these two,” she said and headed to the entrance of the apartment.

  As Chaz followed with two bags stuffed under each arm, he glanced furtively around the apartment complex. There were five tenants to the right of Savannah’s flat, four to the left and no second floors to any of them. At least that was a plus for security, he thought. But the beautiful landscaping separating the lawns of each apartment could create a nightmare if anyone decided to hide behind the giant blooming oleanders or bushes of Texas sage.

  When he reached the door, Savannah was already digging through her handbag for the key.

  “Just put them anywhere,” she told him. “I’ll get them inside.”

  He set the bags down and took a deep breath. His time had run out, he decided. There was no more delaying the inevitable.

  “Uh—Miss Fortune, I think—”

  Before he could push the remaining words past his lips, she smiled and offered him her hand in a gesture of farewell.

  “I know what you’re going to say. It was nice meeting this way.”

  “It couldn’t have been nicer,” he agreed, while thinking he could stand here holding on to her hand for hours and never get tired of looking at her plush lips, or short little nose, or those luminous eyes fringed by the longest lashes he’d ever seen.

  “Perhaps I’ll see you around campus sometime,” she said. “But then, I suppose you’re always busy carting people to and fro.”

  He tried not to wince at the deduction he’d allowed her to make of him. “Actually, Miss Fortune, you’re going to be seeing quite a bit of me.”

  Her eyes suddenly wary, she purposely pulled her hand from his. “Oh? I don’t understand.”

  “I’m sorry. I should have explained the moment I introduced myself at the airport. But I...thought it might be nicer if the two of us got to know each other a bit before I sprang the situation on you.”

  She was shaking her head now and Chaz saw a look of confusion and something close to fear fill her eyes.

  “Situation? What are you talking about?”

  “My name is Chaz Mendoza, but the university didn’t send me to collect you at the airport. Your father did.”

  She took a step backward. “Excuse me?”

  “Your father is Miles Fortune of Fortune Investments in New Orleans, right?”

  Although her nod was an affirmative, her eyes were glazed with shock. “Yes, he is my father. But why—”

  Before she could question him further, he said, “He’s hired me as your bodyguard, Miss Fortune.”

  She gasped with disbelief. “Bodyguard! You must be joking!”

  “Hardly. I don’t joke about providing security. From what Mr. Fortune tells me, you could be putting yourself in quite a bit of danger. My job is to see that danger doesn’t get anywhere near you.”

  * * *

  So this was why her father hadn’t spoken to her before she’d departed New Orleans, she thought. He’d believed he’d taken control of the situation by hiring her a bodyguard.

  “This is incredible! I can’t believe my father would go so far as to—” Her gaze swept over him as though she were seeing him for the first time today and then her head began to swing back and forth. “Hire a man to follow me around! It won’t work. It simply won’t work. As of this moment, you can consider yourself relieved of your duties.”

  During the brief ride over from the airport, Chaz had made the mistake of thinking she was different from the wealthy people who often visited his family’s businesses, Mendoza Winery and La Viña restaurant. As they’d made conversation, she’d not come across as a spoiled little rich girl. But she was certainly coming across as one now.

  “Sorry. You didn’t hire me, Miss Fortune. So you can hardly terminate my services.”

  To underscore the fact that he wasn’t going anywhere, Chaz pulled a key from his jeans pocket and unlocked the door.

  Her mouth fell open. “Where did you get that key?” she demanded. “And don’t tell me you’re planning on staying here! In my apartment!”

  Smiling smugly, he pushed the door open and gestured for her to precede him into the building.

  “Don’t worry about how I got a key. And don’t be thinking you can run to the building manager and complain. Your father has already taken care of everything.”

  “That’s what he thinks! There’s no way in hell I’m going to share my living space with a man!”

  Her plush lips flattened to an angry line as she brushed past him, but Chaz was paying very little attention to her outrage as she marched ahead of him. No, he was much more focused on the sweet flowery scent of her perfume and the evocative sway of her round little bottom.

  “Don’t worry, Miss Fortune. You’ll get used to me.”

  Looking over her shoulder, she glared at him. “Never!”

  Something about her ruffled feathers made her even more attractive than when she’d been making polite conversation and Chaz couldn’t stop himself from smiling at her.

  “Never say never, Miss Fortune. It might come back to haunt you.”

  She stomped out of the foyer and as Chaz followed after her, he realized his job as a bodyguard had just taken on a new meaning.

  Copyright © 2019 by Harlequin Books S.A.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from The Austen Playbook by Lucy Parker.

  Coming soon from Carina Press and Lucy Parker,

  Lucy Parker presents opposites attract, as she brings the West End to the English countryside via a Jane Austen–themed whodunit.

  Read on for a sneak preview of

  The Austen Playbook,

  the next book in Lucy Parker’s

  London Celebrities Series.

  The Austen Playbook

  by Lucy Parker

  Chapter One

  A year ago

  After twelve years of performing in the West End, Freddy Carlton had racked up her fair share of unfortunate experiences. Bi
tchy co-stars. Costume malfunctions. Having to stage-snog people with whom she’d had bad dates and even worse sex.

  She’d never forgotten her lines during a public performance.

  “Peanut, it wasn’t that bad.” Crossing her long legs, her older sister Sabrina pushed the basket of hot chips across the table. She’d been trying to stuff food down Freddy’s throat for the past half hour. The conviction that most ills could be assuaged with carbs ran deep in their family. “You covered really well. Barely a pause.”

  Freddy put down her sangria and rubbed her eyes. “Yes. It really saved the day when I quoted a Bruce Springsteen song in the middle of a play set in 1945.”

  In the instant under the lights when her mind had just...blanked, and her stomach had dropped to her shoes, some safety valve in her brain had stepped in and supplied a line. Unfortunately, it had fixed on the last song she’d been listening to in her dressing room to wind down before curtain.

  She supposed she should be thankful she hadn’t trotted out a line from the second-to-last song the radio had infiltrated into her subconscious. She might have responded to her soldier lover’s romantic declaration with an obscene rap.

  “Oh my God.” She pushed aside her glass and briefly dropped her forehead to the table. “Press night. I quoted Springsteen in front of a thousand people on press night.”

  She’d never really screwed up on stage before. Certainly never so bizarrely. She usually confined any major hiccups to rehearsal. She had a reputation for reliability. Affability. Just tell Freddy where to go, what to do, who to be, and she’ll do it. She’d even throw in a smile.

  Generally, the smile was genuine. She loved the stage, she loved her family, and she loved life. With the glaring exception of tonight’s debacle, her career was on the up. She ought to be skipping through the streets.

  Not lying awake at night, not partying too much in the extremely brief gaps between productions, and not feeling physically sick before auditions.

 

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