"Austin?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you all right?"
"What?" He inhaled sharply, as if he could still smell the odors of stew, old athletic shoes and baby powder. "Yeah. I'm just surprised. "
"I didn't know you had a connection with the children's home."
He heard her bare feat on the floor as she walked toward him. He didn't turn around, but continued to stare out in the darkening afternoon and the rain pouring down. "I lived there for a couple of years."
He glanced down at her. She stood next to him, staring up. Her mouth hung open. She closed it slowly and didn't say anything, but he could see the questions in her brown eyes. If he told her the whole story, she'd get all compassionate and misty-eyed. It happened to women all the time.
Occasionally he used the story to his advantage, but not today. Not with Rebecca. He didn't want to encourage her.
Not because he wasn't interested, but because he was. "You're an orphan?" she asked, her voice low and sympathetic.
"Not exactly."
"Then why were you in the home?"
He didn't answer. He stared down at her, knowing he was giving her what Jasmine had laughingly called the ice glare.
She hadn't been intimidated by it because she hadn't been involved enough to care. Rebecca swallowed hard as his expression became more forbidding. She looked away and folded her hands together in front of her waist.
He felt as if he'd just kicked a kitten and had to fight the urge to apologize. Damn. What was wrong with him? Why was she getting to him? Was it the unexpected desire he felt when he looked at her? Or was it something more ominous? A whisper of envy for the innocence in her face. The knowledge that he had never been that open to the world, not even when he was a child. Life had taught them very different lessons. He'd always known he wasn't like every one else. He'd accepted that fact, had even been proud of it. Until about a year ago, when he'd awakened to the realization that he would always be alone.
"You don't want to talk about it," she said, brushing a strand of hair off her face and turning away. Her shoulders slumped.
He swore under his breath. Why did she have to be so easy to read?
"I was transferred there from another home. I was a troublemaker when I was a kid."
She looked back at him and gave him a sweet smile. "That I believe."
"I'd hated where I'd been and I'd planned to hate this place. Then at school I met Travis and his brothers. They sort of changed everything for me."
"I've always wondered how the two of you became friends. You seem so different."
He raised his eyebrows. "In what way?"
She leaned against the wall and tucked her hands in the small of her back. "He's so open and friendly. Always good for a laugh. And you're…" She stopped talking and looked up at him. "What I meant to say is that you're…"
"Yes?" He folded his arms.
Her breathing increased, and with it the rise and fall of her chest. The thick robe parted slightly, exposing her neck and the hollow of her throat. It shouldn't have been provocative, but the sight of her bare skin made him want to move close to her and touch and taste every inch of her body. He shifted so the natural reactions to his thoughts would be less obvious.
"You're different," she said at last. "How exactly did you meet Travis?"
"I tried to beat him up."
"What?"
He grinned at the memory. "We were both in the eighth grade. I think I'd been in school about two days and I'd already been in four fights. Travis said something about me being a bully. I turned on him. What I didn't know at the time was that if you mess with one Haynes brother, you mess with all of them. The other three came running, ready to take apart my hide."
"What happened?"
"I was ready to get the—" he glanced at her "—living daylights out of me, when Travis did the damnedest thing. He took my side against his brothers. They wouldn't fight him. Then the vice principal showed up and they all defended me. "
"And you've been friends ever since," she said, staring straight ahead with a dreamy expression in her eyes. "That's a lovely story. Travis must have seen that you were just a scared and lonely little boy."
Austin was torn between a desire to frighten her back into being afraid of him and surprise that she'd figured out the truth. That was exactly what Travis had seen. Funny, he'd never told anyone that before. But his relationship with Travis and his brothers had been the reason he'd returned to Glenwood. This was the only place he'd ever liked well enough to stay for more than a few months at a time.
"Yeah, well, it was a long time ago." He pushed off the windowsill and walked over to a desk in the corner by the stairs. "What's going on with the children's home? Do you need money?" He opened the top drawer and pulled out a checkbook. "Is that why you came to see me?"
"Not exactly."
He'd picked up a pen, but now he put it down. Rebecca crossed the room and stopped behind the wing chair he'd been sitting in. She rested her hands on the high back and gripped the fabric. The lights flickered again; the sounds of the storm increased. He could hear the rumble of thunder and the pounding of the rain on the windows.
He would have given his soul to see her slip the robe off her shoulders and walk into his arms. The corner of his mouth quirked up. He didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of that happening. She might have a crush on him, but she wasn't about to throw herself at him. Just as well. He would have a hard time refusing that kind of invitation.
He studied her face, the high cheekbones, the wide mouth, and tried to figure out what it was about her that made him want to break all his rules. Some of it was her crush. It was tough not to be flattered when a woman like her acted like a fool in his presence. Normally women fawning over him made him uncomfortable enough to start checking for the closest exit. But Rebecca was different. Maybe it was because she watched him with such adoration. Ironically it was her high ideals that would keep her safe from him. There was just enough decency left in him not to want to destroy her false image. If Rebecca Chambers knew the truth about him, she would run screaming in the opposite direction.
He was doing her a favor by keeping the truth a secret. He ignored the voice inside that whispered he might not just be doing it for her. That maybe he had something to gain. Maybe her blushes and stammerings and long glances fed some empty, almost dead part of his useless heart.
She raised her hands and grabbed her hair, pulled it back into a ponytail, then released the long curls. She was a fairytale princess, he thought, then scoffed at his own fancy. Get real, Lucas, he told himself.
"I need your house," she said, and drew a deep breath as if preparing to deliver a long speech. "Oh, God, I know what you're thinking. It's too much to ask. I wouldn't ask you except I've been everywhere else. I have twenty kids sleeping in the school auditorium, but they can't stay there indefinitely. The state has assured me I'll have money to build a new facility, but in the meantime, I'm on my own. Travis suggested I see you. He said there's an empty house on your property that'd be big enough. We wouldn't be a bother."
"Somehow I doubt that."
She took a step closer. Her hands twisted together, the fingers lacing and unlacing. "Oh, Austin, you're my last hope. I've checked around town. The problem is I don't have any money. I have some, but I need to replace food and clothing and toys. People in town have been great, but it's not enough. We'd only need the house for about three months." She grimaced. "Gosh, that sounds so long. I could split the kids up, but I hate to do that. David is just seven. His parents and older sister were killed in a car crash. He's pretty normal, considering what's happened to him. He talks and still does his schoolwork. But he can't seem to make friends. He stands outside all the games the other children play. He watches them. Even when they invite him, he won't join in. It's been six weeks since the accident."
She rubbed her palms together, then held out her hands pleadingly. "He has relatives, but they're too busy fighting over the e
state to care about a seven-year-old boy. The deal they've all worked out is whoever gets control of the money is willing to be stuck with the kid." She shook her head. "Stuck. He's sweet and funny and very bright. If I can find a family willing to adopt him, I'll petition the court for custody. In the meantime, we're the only family he has."
He tried not to think about the lost boy, but deep in his chest he felt a familiar ache. "Rebecca, I don't see—"
"Then I have to make you see." Her voice became husky. "Oh, Austin, there are so many children. There are the twins. They've been abandoned by their alcoholic grandmother And Melanie, she's just f-five." Her voice cracked. "Her uncle… His older brothers had done bad things to him, so he took it out on Melanie. The doctor's aren't sure if she'll ever be able to have children."
He cursed under his breath and stood up. In three strides he was standing directly in front of her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and shook her gently.
"Hush, Rebecca. It's okay. What I started to say is that I don't think it's going to be a problem. You're welcome to the house. For as long as you need it."
She blinked several times and he realized she was fighting tears. Through the thick layer of the robe, he could feel her slender shoulders tremble. There were dark circles under her eyes and lines of weariness around her mouth. "Really?" she asked.
"Really. Have you been handling all of this alone?"
She nodded. Her head dipped toward her chest. "I haven't hired a new assistant since Elizabeth went on maternity leave." She sniffed, then raised her head. Her smile was a little shaky, but it hit him like a right hook to the jaw. "I can't tell you what this means to us."
He released her and stepped back. Great. He'd just gone up three points in her estimation. He didn't need to fuel her case of hero worship.
"It's nothing," he said, flicking his hand dismissively. "The house is empty. You'll have to rent some beds and stuff. I'll pick up the tab for that."
When her big eyes got bigger, he grimaced. "I'm not doing this for you, Rebecca," he said bluntly. "I'm doing it for the kids and because the people who ran the home were good to me when I stayed there. This isn't anything but a business deal. I'm paying an old debt. Don't make it more than it is. "
Judging by the light in her eyes, he hadn't made his point well enough.
"This is wonderful!" she said. She tugged on the belt around her waist. "I was so afraid of what would happen if you'd said no." She laughed. "I can't tell you how uncomfortable it is sleeping in a cot in the elementary-school auditorium."
"Why have you been staying there?"
"I lost my night supervisor, and I haven't been able to hire someone to replace her. About a month ago, I moved into the home. It was easier."
"You lost everything in the fire, too." It wasn't a question.
"Not everything, exactly. I had some stuff in storage."
He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her until all the bad things went away. He wanted to hit the stairs running and never look back. "Saint Rebecca," he muttered.
"What?"
"Nothing." He shook his head. "Let me guess. You've been doing this all by yourself. Coordinating where the kids are going to stay temporarily, finding a new place, collecting clothes."
"You sound as if I've done something wrong. The children are my responsibility."
He felt old and tired, and far too cynical to spend time with someone like her. In his ugly little world, very few people went out of their way to do more than they had to.
He was as guilty as the rest of them. It was easier to stay detached that way. Easier to forget why he couldn't get involved…
"Did I say something to offend you?" she asked.
He looked at her, at the long dark hair, at her big eyes and the trembling set of her mouth. From the top of her head down to her unpainted toenails, she was alien to him.
He leaned toward her and s11pped his hand over her shoulder to the nape of her neck. She stiffened but didn't move. Despite her recent shower, he could smell the sweet scent of her body. It reminded him of vanilla and sunshine, nothing like the musky Oriental fragrances his lovers normally favored.
Her skin was as smooth and warm as he'd imagined. His thumb traced a pattern on her spine, then he curled his fingers into her hair. Her expression held no fear, only faint anticipation and a trusting calm that made him want to bellow with impatience.
"Who the hell are you, Rebecca Chambers?" he asked. "What are you doing in my life?"
"I don't know how to answer that," she whispered.
His other hand reached for the collar of the robe. It would be so easy to grab the thick material and jerk it open, exposing her to his gaze. Would she fight him or submit willingly?
He touched the terry cloth, moving back and forth, but didn't go near her skin.
"Have you ever gotten a ticket?" he asked.
She nodded. "I forgot to put enough change in the meter."
A parking ticket. He almost groaned. "Ever been really stoneface drunk?"
"No"
"Had sex with a stranger?"
She blushed and shook her head. Her eyes never left his. He saw the flash of fear, but it was gone before he could read it. "Have you ever, in your entire life, done anything bad?"
Her gaze dropped to his mouth, then to the floor. "No."
He released her and stalked away. Figures.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"To call the tow truck and get you the hell out of here."
There was a brilliant flash of lightning, followed by a boom of thunder. The building shook as if God had reached down and bumped it. The lights inside flickered once, twice, then exploded into darkness. He stumbled into an end table and swore. If the power was out, the phone lines were down for the night. He was stuck here. And so was she.
* * *
Chapter 3
« ^ »
"Are you all right?" Rebecca asked as Austin stumbled in the darkness.
His answer was a mumbled curse.
She stood where he'd left her, in the middle of his living room. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, and her knees felt weak.
He'd touched her. Even thinking about his brief caress sent the blood racing through her veins. His hand on the back of her neck had been hot and hard. He'd stared at her as if he wanted to devour her for dinner, then dish up the remains for breakfast. She wasn't sure she would have refused him.
Even though it was dark and there was no one to see her blush, she covered her cheeks with her palms. How could she think that about him? A crush was one thing, but casual sex with a man she barely knew was something quite different. Oh sure, she'd thought about making love with Austin hundreds of times. But thinking and doing were two different things, weren't they?
Have you ever had sex with a stranger?
He would never know the images his question had evoked. She'd already seen Austin naked, so it wasn't difficult to picture him aroused. His body had been all that she'd imagined. Before she'd slammed the bathroom door shut, she'd seen his long, powerful legs, the breadth and definition of his chest. Between his thighs she'd seen dark curls and his … his organ!
In all her twenty-nine years, she'd only ever seen one other man naked. Wayne had been blond and built like a bear, all thick limbs and barrel-chested. He'd been an all-American linebacker at college their senior year. Everything about him was so different from Austin's lean grace, and dark, demonic, good looks. Wayne had been someone she'd laughed with, someone who had grown up with the same rules and goals as she had.
Wayne had understood about values, about the importance of other people's feelings. Wayne had been warm and sensitive. Austin was none of those things. He was a loner. She'd always wondered about his past, but she'd never thought he would have lived in the Glenwood children's home. She'd heard that he'd been wild as a teenager, breaking rules and the law, getting into trouble. Even now he lived up to his j reputation. Between his self-made fortune, his gold earrin
g and his women, he flouted the conventions of their small town. He was nothing like Wayne, nothing like herself. So why couldn't she stop thinking about him?
The sun had set behind the clouds, taking away the last of the light. From another part of the loft, drawers were being opened and slammed shut. After several minutes she heard the scratch of a match, then a weak flicker of light danced off the far wall.
"You might as well come into the kitchen," Austin called out. "I don't have enough candles for the whole place. Can you see your way?"
"I'm fine," she said, and wondered if she had the courage to take him up on his less than gracious invitation. She'd hoped he found her at least slightly attractive. But her answers to his questions had pointed out to both of them that she was far from his type. A man with a reputation of being the devil himself wouldn't be interested in a woman like her.
She walked around the wing chair and toward the light. Austin stood by the phone, staring at the receiver. He banged it once against the wall and listened. Then he slammed it back in place.
"The line's out."
"I figured as much," she said.
He planted his hands on his hips and stared at her. "Looks like you're stuck with me for the night."
I don't mind.
She didn't say the words, but she must have thought them pretty loudly because Austin stiffened, raising his head slightly and staring at her. He reminded her of a wildcat catching scent of its prey.
Squat candles sat in saucers around the kitchen and on the butcher-block table. The flames danced in time to a rhythm she could neither feel nor hear. The storm raged around them, but for once she wasn't afraid of the lightning or the thunder. It was as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist. She was alone with this man. Time had disappeared, along with common sense. She had this night. Ignoring the fact that she was naked under his robe and feeling extremely vulnerable, she balled her hands into fists and promised herself not to waste it.
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