This was no time to carry on a silent argument with her father. She had some tall convincing to do.
“Your father’s half-right—” Courtney thought for a moment, trying to recall the girl’s name. “Katie.” Courtney smiled at the delicate little face. “It’s more of a business deal where both people involved get something they want.” She doubted that Katie could understand what she was saying, but it was the best she could do. The last time she’d talked to a child, she had been one.
Courtney glanced toward Gabriel. His eyes were polite, but impersonal. And very distant. Apparently she’d scored no points for talking to his daughter.
Katie was right, John mused. There were similarities between Diane and the Tamberlaine woman. It went beyond the physical. She was very sure of herself, sure of getting what she wanted, just as Diane had been. He remembered a time he would have given his late ex-wife everything. Until he discovered that she wanted more.
“And what is it that you want, Miss Tamberlaine?”
There were nice, slow ways to work up to her subject. Diplomatic ways. Given time, Courtney could have framed this discussion artfully. But she didn’t have that luxury. She’d spent it.
Courtney drew a breath, feeling oddly unsteady for a moment, as if she were about to take a dive off a very steep cliff. “What I want, Gabriel, is a husband.”
There were a lot of things he might have expected her to say, but this was not even remotely close to any of them. John’s hand slid off Katie’s shoulder as he stared at the woman standing in front of him. He couldn’t have heard her right. “And you’d like me to build you one?”
The superior look in his eyes had temporarily receded. She rather liked that.
“No, I’d like you to be one.”
It was a joke, of course, but the punch line seemed a long time in coming. He waited and so did she. Finally, he said incredulously, “To you.” It wasn’t even a question, it was an absurd statement. One he fully expected her to laugh off.
Courtney was aware that the little girl was staring at her. “To me.”
Courtney Tamberlaine didn’t appear to be an unstable woman—arrogant, perhaps, but not unstable. Obviously, she had to be. Either that, or she had a very twisted sense of humor. “Did I miss something? Why are you asking me to be—?”
“Are you going to be my mommy?”
Katie had edged her father out of the way and was tugging on the end. of Courtney’s robe. It had slipped completely off one shoulder.
Oh, no, Katie wasn’t going to be pulled into this woman’s bizarre game, whatever it was. John squeezed Katie’s shoulder lightly, moving her toward him. “No, she is not going to be your mommy, Katie. I think Ms. Tamberlaine must be a little muddled and has her months mixed up.” The look in his eyes warned Courtney to drop the charade. “This is July, not April first.”
He was annoyed with her, Courtney thought The realization nudged uneasiness into anger. Who the hell did he think he was, to be annoyed with her? She was the one with the problem, not him. Hell, she was about to make him a rich man through absolutely no merit of his own, except that he’d had the good fortune of being in the right place at the right time.
“I never get muddled,” she informed him icily, then forced herself to smile.. She was negotiating, she reminded herself. “Will you join me on the patio for a glass of lemonade? I’d like to explain this to you. Slowly.”
She’d deliberately enunciated the last word. Her point was not lost on him. Ms. Tamberlaine obviously thought he was slow-witted because he was working with his hands. Pride almost managed to get the best of him. The same pride he’d harbored as he’d worked his way through college, earning an engineering degree while remodeling other people’s kitchens.
That was how he’d met Diane, building new cabinets for her mother. He’d been twenty at the time, and had mistaken aloofness for breeding. He was older now and knew better.
John looked back at the guest house. He worked according to a strict schedule he set up for himself. And she was wasting his time.
Taking Katie’s hand, he nodded toward the structure and began edging away. He noticed that Katie wasn’t eager to follow. “As I said earlier, you’re paying me by the hour and—”
Courtney was in no mood to be put off by excuses. “Then I get to decide how you spend your time earning that money.”
A dark blond brow arched over eyes as green as clovers growing wild in the field. “Within reason.”
Courtney’s smile widened as her eyes swept over Katie. “I am always reasonable.”
John doubted that a woman like Courtney Tamberlaine was reasonable unless she absolutely had to be, but it was her dollar and if she wanted to spend it talking to him under a striped canopy, sipping lemonade, it was her call. Besides, Katie had been behaved for most of the morning. She deserved a break far more than he did.
He nodded and gestured toward the patio. “All right. Let’s see you explain your request and make it sound reasonable.”
Something distant and unformed warned Courtney to take her proposal off the table, turn tail and run now, while she still had the chance. Stubbornness prevented her.
As soon as he released her hand, Katie shifted over to the lady who looked so much like the picture she’d seen of her mommy. A smile beaming on her face, Katie confided, “I love lemonade. It makes my lips tingle.”
Tingle. Courtney bet Katie’s father probably knew a thing or two about making a woman tingle. Those hands looked as if they knew their way around more than just carpenter’s tools.
The thought occurred to her that she might be getting more than she bargained for. But then, she’d always been up to any challenge sent her way. Keeping him in line would be just another challenge.
She didn’t doubt her abilities for a minute.
Courtney placed an arm around the little girl’s shoulders, shepherding her toward the patio table. She was struck by how delicate and fragile the little girl seemed. “You can have as much as you like.”
“Thank you.”
Courtney knew several adults who weren’t as articulate or as polite as Katie. She looked at Gabriel over her shoulder. “How old is she?”
Before John could answer, Katie proudly held up four fingers, wiggling them for emphasis. “Four. I’m four years old.”
Although her size made her seem even younger than that, she had almost an adult bearing about her. Probably got that from her father, Courtney thought.
“She’s very well-spoken for four.” Courtney certainly found her much easier to talk to and like than her father.
His uncle and aunt, the only parents he had ever known, had always talked at him, not to him. John had grown up feeling as if he were only part of the furnishing in their three room apartment, not part of their lives. He’d vowed when she was born that Katie would never feel like that.
“I don’t see any reason to talk down to her.”
His answer was said with feeling. She felt as if they were sparring partners, feeling each other out. “Very admirable of you.”
She saw the way Gabriel looked at Katie as he moved her chair in for her. In a way, Gabriel reminded her a little of her own father. An unexpected sting of nostalgia pricked her as she remembered the way Alexander Tamberlaine had always doted on her, hovering protectively as her mother laughed and said that she wasn’t made of glass.
No she wasn’t, but she had shattered anyway when he died. Yet she had always managed to turn a laughing, carefree face to the world.
She’d fooled everyone.
No one really knew what went on in her head. Not even her father. If he had, he would have trusted her judgment and she wouldn’t be wrestling with this damn albatross he had hung around her neck.
As if I didn’t have enough brains to eventually pick a decent husband.
Courtney took her own chair and was surprised when Gabriel helped her with hers. “Nice manners.”
He wondered if she felt that he needed her approval. “I
bathe regularly, too.”
Amusement lifted the corners of her mouth. “Another commendable quality.” Courtney turned to see if Sloan or Angela, the maid, were anywhere within view. She saw Sloan passing the French doors in the library and signaled for him to come out.
Katie’s mouth dropped open as she watched Everett Sloan walk out onto the patio toward their table. Dressed in black livery—as his post, his training and his heritage demanded—Sloan, at a very thin six foot six, was an imposing sight.
“Who’s that?” she whispered, shifting in her seat to be closer to her father.
Courtney felt herself smiling. She could remember having the same reaction to Sloan. She’d been no older than Katie when the butler had first come to work for her father.
“This is Sloan, Katie. He’ll bring you that lemonade you want.” Courtney turned to look at him as Sloan approached. “Won’t you, Sloan?”
“Right away, Miss.” The somber, impassive face gave way to a slight smile as he looked down at the little girl. “Will that be three lemonades, Miss?”
Courtney glanced toward Gabriel. “Unless you’d like something stronger?”
John had a feeling that he might need something stronger by the time she was finished, but there was still a lot to do. Besides, he had Katie to think of. “Lemonade will be fine.”
She nodded at Sloan, who began to retreat. Struck by a thought, she held up her hand. “Wait.” Courtney looked at Katie. “Any particular color lemonade you’d prefer?”
There wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation. “Pink. It’s my favorite color.”
She couldn’t have said it with more confidence than if she were ordering wine in an expensive restaurant. Amused, Courtney impulsively covered Katie’s hand with her own. “Pink it is.” She raised her eyes to her butler. “Sloan?”
“Pink it shall be.” With a slight inclination of his salt-and-pepper-fringed head, Sloan withdrew to grant the little girl’s request.
Out of the corner of her eye, Courtney could see Mandy watching them from the library. Though it was too far away to see her expression, Courtney had no doubts that her best friend was dying to be included in this discussion.
She could feel Gabriel’s eyes on her, practically penetrating her mind. But if he was curious, he managed his curiosity well. He was waiting for her to pick her time.
Damn, why was there this flutter in the pit of her stomach? This was no different than buying a sailboat, or choosing a new car. And ultimately, except for outward appearances, it was even less binding.
Composing herself, Courtney folded her hands before her on the table and studied the man sitting opposite her. He looked even more virile, more masculine than before. She had to concentrate not to let her imagination drift.
“Are you seeing anyone, John?”
“That’s personal, Ms. Tamberlaine.” Was she continuing with this joke? Just what was her game? She hadn’t really seemed interested in him earlier and she wasn’t really interested in him now, not the way Diane had been, hanging around, trying to strike up conversations with him as he worked, trying to get him to notice her. But Diane had been nineteen and full of pride at her nubile, sleek little body. This one had something else on her mind. And somehow she seemed to think he fit into it
. He was too busy to be the source of amusement for a rich, spoiled heiress.
“Then you are seeing someone?”
There was no one in his life. There was no time for anyone but Katie. She needed him far more than he needed to feel the warmth of a woman’s soft body beside him at night. “I said it was personal,” he replied evenly. “I didn’t answer your question one way or another.”
Impatience drummed at Courtney. She held it in check. Letting it get the better of her wasn’t going to help the situation. “No, you didn’t, but I do need an answer. Are you seeing anyone, or involved with anyone, at the moment?”
She certainly wasn’t shy, he thought, almost amused by her question. But then, he doubted that she’d ever found the occasion to be shy. She probably utilized everything she had to her advantage. There was no doubt in his mind that the stunning figure housed a very shallow woman.
He opened his mouth to answer, but Sloan picked that time to return. The butler slipped three tall glasses from the tray just as unobtrusively as he had entered and placed one before each of them on the table.
With an exclamation of glee, Katie wrapped her hands around the frosty glass. She giggled as she brought it down to her level. Sloan had thought to put a straw into hers and she covered it eagerly with her small mouth.
Courtney saw John eyeing his daughter and could almost feel the breath that he was holding as he waited to see if the maneuver was a successful one.
He cared about the little girl, Courtney thought again. Really cared. A man who felt that way about his daughter couldn’t be all bad. It made her feel a little better about the insanity she was about to undertake.
“So,” Courtney pressed, “are you involved with anyone?”
He had to admit that he was more curious than he should be. “And if I said I wasn’t…?”
Yes! He was free. Gabriel didn’t strike her as the type to play games. And if he was lying, Courtney had the feeling that Katie would have contradicted him with her gentle innocence and mentioned a woman’s name. Courtney breathed a sigh of relief.
Suddenly aware that he was watching her, she released the remainder of it slowly. “Then I would elaborate on my proposition.”
He hoped that whatever she had to say, she would remember that there was a child present. “Go ahead, I’m listening.”
Courtney had always taken pride in not being afraid to face anything. The meek were left behind, ignored, abandoned. She had never been meek and, as far as she recalled, she’d never really felt awkward.
Until now.
Her palms were actually damp, she realized with a touch of wonder and disgust.
It had to do with the man’s eyes. His eyes, such a beautiful green, were looking straight into her. Delving into her. Making her lose her train of thought and confusing her as if she were some unsophisticated schoolgirl instead of a well-traveled woman who could cite friends on both sides of the Atlantic and Pacific.
For reasons she could not put into words, none of that seemed to matter right now.
Maybe a little background was necessary. She needed to arouse his sympathy. If he possessed any. “My father placed great store in the working class.”
Next, she was probably going to tell him that dear old dad made a point of inviting a blue collar worker to share Thanksgiving dinner with them every year. John was well acquainted with the type. He felt the edge of his temper sharpening. “Nice of him.”
That chip of his was growing right before her eyes. Courtney set her mouth, determined. She was never more her father’s daughter than when she felt the odds stacked against her.
Ignoring the sarcasm in Gabriel’s voice, she continued, “He was a very nice man, if a little eccentric at the end.”
The end. That meant the man had probably passed on. John still didn’t see what any of this had to do with him. “And you’re going to get to that part.”
“Yes.” She’d snapped the word out before she could stop herself. Now she probably came off sounding like a shrew, but it was only because she felt herself backed into a corner. “My father wanted to have me marry someone from the working class before I was thirty.”
It took all kinds. Diane’s family had wanted her to have nothing to do with him; they had talked against him until she had “come to her senses” and divorced him. Obviously, Tamberlaine’s father had had a different frame of mind. But why was she telling him this? With her looks, he couldn’t imagine her having any difficulty attracting likely candidates.
Although he could see where her mouth might get in the way.
It was getting late. “I don’t see what this has to do with me.”
Maybe he was thicker than she thought. “I’m going to
be thirty next month.”
What might have passed for a smile lightly creased his lips. “Happy birthday.”
Her eyes held his. Was he being sarcastic? “It would be a great deal. happier if I were married.”
She couldn’t possibly mean… John waited for her to say something that made sense. “And—?”
Courtney leaned over the table, for the moment shutting out the child who was absorbing every word. “And I’m prepared to offer you a sum of money if you’ll be my husband.”
“Then you are serious?”
Unfortunately. “Very.”
John pushed back his chair, the legs scraping along the concrete. “Lady, I don’t know what you’ve been sipping besides lemonade, but this is getting far too weird for me.”
Courtney felt a sudden onslaught of panic overtake her. What if he was her last opportunity to fulfill that ridiculous requirement?
“Wait!”
Gabriel looked at her expectantly and she hurried to continue, silently damning both him and her father. “My father’s will specifies that if I’m not married by the time I’m thirty, the bulk of his money is to be distributed among his favorite charities.”
“And you don’t qualify.” It was hard for him to feel sympathy.
She shrugged. Her father had had good intentions, she supposed. And he wasn’t heartless. “I would get a specified allowance.”
Which was probably twice as much as he’d gotten to see in a good year when he’d been working as an engineer. “That’s more than most people have guaranteed.”
If he was trying to make her feel guilty about wanting more of her own money, he wasn’t succeeding. “I am aware of that,” she replied evenly, “but I don’t want to lose the house.”
It was far too big a house, anyway, John thought. He could have lived very comfortably in the guest house, with room to spare—before the renovations. But he knew that people like Courtney were too rigid and too self-serving to adjust.
Wanted: Husband, Will Train Page 3
