“I meant it when I warned you not to tell anyone I was a softy. I have a habit of dishing out free snacks to the kids who hang out before their parents get home from work. One of these days I'm going to have to declare bankruptcy.”
A glowing heat spread through him and settled in the center of his chest. “Doesn't make for good business.”
She lifted her shoulder slightly, delicately stroking her fingers on one of the rose petals. “No. But it makes me feel good. Not the bankruptcy part. I just don't like to see these young kids hanging out on the streets.”
Jonah couldn't agree more. It was precisely the reason he worked so hard building youth centers and homes for runaway kids. “There's absolutely nothing wrong with that.”
She took another whiff of the roses and chuckled. “Look at us standing here in the foyer when we have this great big house to move around. Are you hungry?”
“As a matter of fact I am. I worked through dinner.”
He followed her down the center hallway, hearing his shoes echo off the tile floor as they always did. He glanced down at Maggie's feet and noticed she was barefoot.
“You’re going to catch your death of cold if you don’t put on some slippers,” he said.
“I hate shoes and can’t stand wearing them around the house. Once I get home it’s the first thing I take off. But the tile is a little cold.”
“At least put on some socks.”
“We already had dinner,” she said, glancing back over her shoulder as she walked ahead of him. “I hope you don't mind we didn't wait for you. Mary wasn't feeling very well, so I suggested she go to bed early, and I took care of dinner for the rest of us.”
“The rest of us?”
“The staff.”
He stopped walking just short of the kitchen door. “You cooked dinner for the entire staff?”
She swung around, peering up at him with wide blue eyes. “Yes.”
“They don't usually have dinner in the main house. All the apartments above the carriage house are equipped with kitchens.”
“That's what they said. But I felt a little guilty that I couldn't remember some of their names and I wanted to get to know them. With me working during the day, I won't have that opportunity so I invited them for dinner. Is that a problem?”
He shook his head, but she'd already turned again and pushed through the kitchen door. “I'm sure the last thing you wanted was more work after cooking for hundreds of people all day.”
“Mary said the same thing. But I don't cook all that much at the coffee shop. I have a regular cook working the kitchen with Virginia until the afternoon. Since Mary wasn't up to cooking tonight, the timing was perfect. Anyway, it was no big deal. I just threw together a quick spaghetti sauce and salad.”
She yanked the refrigerator door and started pulling out bowls of leftovers.
“Is Mary ill?”
“Her arthritis is acting up. She said it always does after working in the garden and when it rains.”
Jonah dropped his briefcase on the floor by the kitchen door. In all the years he'd known Mary, he'd never been aware that she had arthritis. Yet Maggie knew. And after only one day. Mixed feelings filled him.
“Did she call her physician?” he said, hearing the worry in his own voice. How could he have never known that Mary had this condition?
“I don't think so. She said it wasn't necessary.”
“She's been...” He let his voice trail off. This conversation should be happening in a completely different way. Instead of Maggie filling him in on what was going on in his house, he should be easing her into the household.
“I was thinking, though, we really should move her room to the first floor. With arthritis of the knees, it would really make it more convenient than having to climb all those stairs.” Maggie gave him a sympathetic look, as if she were reading his mind. To her credit, she didn't expound on the fact that he'd been clueless.
“Have you already spoken with her about it?”
She was at the microwave, punching in the required number of minutes to heat his dinner. Her back was to him, but when she turned around, she suddenly looked as uncomfortable as she'd been in the foyer.
“I'm suddenly thinking I should have discussed it with you first.”
His first thought was yes, they should have discussed it. But a more important thought kept nagging at him. He should have already known and been the one to inform Maggie.
He cleared his throat. “What did she say?”
“That she loved the view of the garden. But I think she didn't want to be a bother to anyone. I practically had to drag it out of her that she had arthritis at all. It was only after I told her about my grandmother's hands that she admitted it.”
“Mary is a very private person,” he said quietly. Pressing his fingers over the bridge of his nose he squeezed his eyes to help wash away the blurred feeling that engulfed him. How could he have been such a senseless idiot all this time?
“You know, they have those chair lifts you can install on the staircase that are almost like a sitting elevator.”
“I've heard of them.”
“If Mary feels funny about moving her room, maybe we could install one on the back stairway. This way she won't feel shy about having everyone see her using it.”
Jonah stared at Maggie, a warm feeling of remembrance flowing through him. It was odd. He and Maggie had just been married and there were no memories of her for him to draw on. But it was the feeling that was oddly familiar. She seemed so much a part of this house after one day, as if she'd been here for years.
“What is it? You don't like the idea of a chairlift?”
He blinked out of his trance. “I think it's a fabulous idea.”
“What are you staring at?”
“I wasn't aware I was staring.”
She looked down at her big T-shirt and ran her hand over her front as if she were suddenly self-conscious.
“You are,” she said softly.
Maybe he had been staring. He'd been looking at Maggie and wondering how they'd come to this, how she could possibly fit so perfectly here. And how he'd never noticed the way her nose tilted up just slightly or that she had tiny freckles lightly peppering her cheeks, making them look rosy.
He cleared his throat. “It's just, look at us, sitting here discussing important details like an old married couple.”
The microwave beeped, indicating the dinner plate she'd prepared was heated. As if on auto-pilot she grabbed a pot-holder, opened the microwave door and retrieved his dinner.
“Hey, I resent the old part,” she said, dropping the plate on the table. “I'm only twenty-three.”
She was ten years younger than him. Somehow he'd missed it when they'd signed the marriage certificate. He should have known that before they got married and it seemed quite odd to be learning it now. But as of right now, they would be learning everything about each other.
She poured him a glass of wine without asking whether or not he wanted one, as if knowing in advance that he had a glass of wine with dinner every evening. She set the uncorked wine bottle on the table and slipped into the stool next to him at the table.
“You're not joining me?”
She shook her head.
“Oh, that's right. You can't drink alcohol in your condition.”
She chuckled, resting her elbow on the table and her chin on her palm. “And if I don't want to get as big as this mansion, I have to keep myself from eating two dinners every evening.”
“I hadn't thought of that.”
Jonah was used to eating dinner alone here at the house since it was rare for him to bring any of his dates to his home. He just wasn't used to someone watching him while he ate alone. He lifted his fork and remembered the question he'd been waiting to ask her all day.
“Are you free next Friday evening?”
Her eyebrows slid upward, a hint of mischievous interest dancing in her eyes. “Are you asking me on a date, Sir Jonah?”
He smiled wryly at the inflection in her voice with the use of his formal title. “Sort of, but I'll understand if you have plans already since it's rather short notice.”
“Gee, let me consult my social calendar,” she said, giggling. “What do you have in mind?”
“I'm afraid what I have to offer may not be quite what you're thinking. The Foundation is having a charity event to raise money for the Haven House, one of the organizations I'm starting in America. I've already set the same program up in England with great success. I thought we'd give it a go here. It'll be formal, a black tie affair.”
“That tux of yours is getting more use than the Southeast Expressway this week,” she teased, laughing the way she did when she was feeling lighthearted.
That much he already knew about her. Maggie loved to laugh. And he liked this part of her a lot. So much of his life had been filled with rules and regiment. It was nice to be with someone who was uninhibited that way.
“Sounds like it might be a good time. For me anyway. But for you, I guess it will be all work, huh?”
He shrugged and swallowed a bite of food before he spoke. “It's a lot of networking. I'm trying to raise money and win support for the project.”
“Networking. You mean schmoozing, right?”
He chuckled. “Exactly.”
“I can schmooze. I do it all day at the Coffee Drop. People come in and tell me all their problems over a cup of coffee and pie.”
He smiled at her reference to the first day they'd met. “Right. But don't feel you have to for my benefit. Just having you there as my wife will be an asset.”
“I promise I'll do my best to stay awake. Doesn't make for good PR when the head of the organization's wife falls asleep in her soup.”
He laughed again. “That could cause some headlines.”
As he took a sip of wine, he noticed her smile had lost a little of its zeal. A soft sigh escaped her lips.
She pulled at her waistband and grimaced. “I'm going to need to go shopping for a dress. I don't have anything I can just pull out of my closet for a black tie affair. Especially now.”
“It gives you an excuse to start shopping for that massive wardrobe you were boasting about. And I insist you let me buy it for you,” he said resolutely.
She straightened her backbone, lifting up in the stool, about to protest, but he forged ahead.
“This is something out of the ordinary. You shouldn't have to spend an outrageous amount of money on a dress you wouldn't otherwise purchase.”
Maggie shook her head. “It wouldn't be right.”
“Think of it as a gift. I am allowed to give my wife the occasional gift once every now and again, aren't I?”
She took a deep breath, a hint of a smile tilting the corners of her mouth. “I suppose.”
Maggie relaxed back on the stool. She really didn't want to accept Jonah's money, but this was more of a gift. Knowing what an evening gown and the labor for alterations could cost, she conceded.
“Thank you, Jonah.”
He nodded once, his gaze lingering on her face a little longer, revealing a measure of warm satisfaction in his eyes. Not one of having bested someone else by winning an argument, but a delightful sense of pleasure that she allowed him the gift.
He was right about one thing. There was something very comfortable about sitting there in the kitchen talking with him. He was unlike any of the men she'd ever known. He didn't just have his own agenda, spending his days making more money on top of the millions he already had. He truly cared about other people and was trying to make a difference. Maybe that came from already having more money than he could ever spend in five lifetimes. Something told her that it was just plain Jonah, and she truly liked that about him.
Still, she couldn't understand how he could be so warm and caring, yet at the same time, keep himself so closed off. He'd been worried about Mary and seemed genuinely shocked when Maggie had informed him of her arthritis. How could they have lived under the same roof for so long and he not know something so basic? It was clear as day to Maggie when she'd come home earlier and saw Mary struggling to climb the stairs.
Her grandmother had arthritis of the hands. It always kept her from quilting, something she dearly loved doing in her spare time. As a child, Maggie used to sit on the sofa next to her grandmother and help her pick out scraps of fabric to make squares. Her grandmother had always promised to teach her someday, but by the time Maggie was in junior high school, the arthritis was too much and her grandmother stopped quilting.
Jonah finished his plate and instinctively she brought it to the sink. It wasn't that he'd expected her to clean up after him, or make his dinner for that matter. It was just something natural, probably inbred in her from years of working at the coffee shop. She laughed softly, realizing for the first that she'd never lived with a man before. Her grandfather had died when she was too young to remember and she had never met her own father.
Jonah moved in behind her. The light breeze with his movement was followed by the warmth of his body, and the scent of his aftershave, tickling her senses. She reached forward and twisted on the faucet, half trying to move away, half longing to sink backwards against him.
He placed his large hands on her shoulders, and gently kneaded them. “Thank you for getting me dinner, but you don't have to wait on me, Maggie.”
“I'm not.”
“Why don't you go on up to bed. I can put these things away and let the dishes soak,” he said, his voice low, like a gentle roll of thunder running across the sky.
“That's okay. I can get them.”
“No, it's not okay. You're exhausted. I'll bet you stayed awake a lot longer than you would have if I'd come home at a decent hour.”
She shrugged and when she did, the hand that was on her shoulder brushed against her cheek. She couldn't help herself. She leaned into his touch, letting the electric charge zing through her body.
“I didn't want to go to sleep tonight with bad feelings between us.”
She swung around to face him and his hand fell away, yet he didn't step backward. They stood inches from each other, no longer touching, but connected instead by this intense energy. Heat simmered in his dark blue eyes. She could almost hear his heart crashing against the walls of his ribs with each rise and fall of his chest.
His gaze fell to her lips, lingering there for a brief moment until it drifted upward. His eyes locked with hers.
Tension instantly engulfed the air around them. Something needed to be said. It was fine for the two of them to sit and talk and laugh, and forget circumstances that brought them together. But when Jonah looked at her like he did right now, when the moment either of them were forced into any amount of intimacy the way married couples were, she realized they were complete strangers.
He nodded once. “I figured as much. I promise I'll be home earlier tomorrow.”
She offered up a smile, not sure if she could trust her voice to speak.
Maggie no longer felt uncomfortable in Jonah's home, just something about the roles they were playing made her feel she should reach out, wrap her arms around Jonah's broad shoulders, and give him a kiss goodnight. If they'd married out of love, that's exactly what she would do. And when that kiss was over, she'd take him by the hand and pull him with her up the wide staircase, down the hall to their bedroom so they could continue what they'd started.
But they didn't share a bedroom. They only shared a name. And only for one year.
Maggie knew she could act as Jonah's wife, go to parties, and play the role if it meant that at the end of the year her baby would have a father to call his own. No teasing and taunting would follow him throughout his life. But she'd have to make doubly sure she didn't let her heart fall into the trap of thinking that when Jonah looked at her like he was right at that moment, with eyes burning with an emotion she didn't dare acknowledge, that these feelings, these emotions swirling through her were real.
She absolutely had to reme
mber that Jonah wasn't her husband out of love. He was hers in name only.
# # #
Chapter Eight
Jonah's gold watch gleamed under the crystal chandelier as he flipped his wrist to check the time. The hands hadn't moved any faster than they had they first three times he'd checked in the last ten minutes. He was going to have to get used to being married and waiting on a woman to finish dressing before going to a charity event. His annoyance grew rapidly during the twenty minutes he waited in the foyer for Maggie to meet him downstairs.
He knew it was more nerves than annoyance though. This was the first public appearance for the two of them as husband and wife. Most of the contributors didn't know about their marriage. He hadn't thought to have Denise, his new secretary, put an announcement in the Globe. But it didn't really matter, since tonight during dinner he would introduce Maggie to everyone as his new wife.
It would be a shock, especially to his partner, Cameron Seaborn. In the last few weeks, he hadn't had much time to think beyond whipping this fund raising dinner into shape. And, of course, adjusting to married life with a woman he hardly knew.
Last he'd spoken to his longtime friend, Jonah was still planning to marry to Catherine. He had confided little about his grandfather's plans for Wiltshire, knowing that Cameron didn't agree with Jonah's need to hold on to the estate in England. The events of Cameron's childhood had given him cause to feel that life was too short to hold on to the past.
Cameron would eventually understand Jonah's motives and get over the shock of him switching brides at the last minute. If he didn't, then it didn't really matter. They had a deep enough respect for each other not to let their personal decisions get in the way of business, and more importantly, their friendship.
But that was Cam. Jonah wasn't foolish enough to think everyone would take the news so easily. Just in case, his press secretary was ready with a statement should anyone ask for details of his courtship or lack of it, with Maggie. Although in the past the press had given positive publicity to the Haven House for Young Wanderers project, Jonah knew how their loyalty could quickly shift, giving them an opening to run with a scandal as soon as they found out Maggie was pregnant.
The Knight and Maggie's Baby Page 9
