Lone Star Millionaire

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Lone Star Millionaire Page 12

by Susan Mallery


  He settled next to her on the floor. A large area rug covered the bleached hardwood. After grabbing a cushion from the sofa, he shoved it under his head and prepared to get comfortable.

  “How do you know?” he asked. “I might enjoy fashion. So what is hot for fall?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You like those detective shows, or the business reports. This is only on another half hour, then you can change it.”

  “That’s okay. I want to watch this with you. We can bond.”

  On their trip to the grocery store, he’d picked up a couple of parenting magazines. He needed the information to get the jump start he needed to catch up on this parenting stuff. It was harder than he’d thought. One of the articles had mentioned parent-child bonding, using television as a neutral medium.

  He pointed at the screen. “That dress is nice.”

  The garment in question was long and black, with very little top and, when the model turned, almost no back. “Well, not for you,” he amended.

  Anastasia rose to her feet. They’d spent most of the three days they’d been in California outdoors. Despite the sunscreen Sabrina had insisted they all wear, his daughter was getting a faint tan. She’d gained a little weight and her face had lost its pinched look.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked. “I don’t want to bond with you. Watch your own stuff and leave me alone.”

  The sharp anger in her voice shocked him. In the past couple of days, they’d actually been getting along. What had happened to change that? “Anastasia,” he said, his tone warning.

  “What? What are you going to do to me?”

  “Anastasia, I—” A thought distracted him. He sat up and looked at her. “Who named you? Was it Janice or your adoptive parents?”

  “My mother,” she said, emphasizing the last word. “My real mother. Not Janice.”

  “Was it a family name? It seems a little old-fashioned.”

  “You want to talk about my name?” she asked. “You’re Calhoun Jefferson Langtry and you think my name is funny?”

  He realized he’d hit a nerve. “It’s not funny. I think it’s very pretty, if a little unusual.”

  “I don’t care what you think.” Her hands curled into fists and her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t care about you at all because you never cared about me. Why didn’t you use birth control? Why didn’t you check on Janice? Why did you just go off and leave her? She died!” Her voice rose. “She died and I was all alone and no one cared about me. You’re supposed to be my father. You’re supposed to care, and you didn’t even bother to find out the truth. You should have come for me.”

  She seemed to fold in on herself. Her shoulders hunched forward and her face scrunched up.

  “Anastasia.”

  But he was too late. She turned to the stairs and raced up. Seconds later he heard her bedroom door slam shut.

  Cal rose to his feet and stared after her. What had happened? He’d come in to join her while she watched television. Instead of sharing some quiet time together, he’d obviously hurt her terribly and sent her from the room in tears.

  “You okay?”

  He turned and saw Sabrina standing in the doorway. “I’m the wrong person to ask.” He pointed to the ceiling. “She’s the one crying.”

  “I don’t know. You look a little shell-shocked to me.”

  Cal sank onto the sofa. “What the hell happened? One minute we were discussing TV shows and the next—” He shook his head. “I’m the last person in the world to be raising a kid.”

  “For what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing.”

  Then why did he have a knot in his gut and a cold, ugly feeling that he was destined to hurt the child he only wanted to love? “About what?” he asked.

  “You didn’t tell her the truth about Janice. She told you she was on the pill, didn’t she?”

  “Yeah, but that’s not something I felt I should share with a twelve-year-old. Anastasia’s right. I should have checked. Somehow. I should have done a lot of things differently.”

  The problem was, he could be as logical as he wanted. Janice had lied. That wasn’t his fault. He’d tried to get in touch with her, but she hadn’t wanted him to find her. He had excuses for all of his daughter’s accusations, save one—that he should have known about her. He bought into that theory, too. Even now he found it hard to believe that he’d had a child and never once sensed her presence in the world. He should have known. If he was any kind of father, he would have known.

  “You’re beating yourself up for being human,” Sabrina said. “For what it’s worth, I think that’s a waste of time. You can’t change that, and you can’t erase the past. Today is what’s important.”

  “Explain that to her,” he said, jerking his head toward the ceiling.

  “Oh, I intend to.”

  Sabrina left the room. She wished there was more she could say to Cal. His obvious concern and pain touched her. She wanted to find the right words to make it all better. Unfortunately only time would allow him and Anastasia to form a relationship. That and maybe a firm dose of reality.

  She walked into Anastasia’s room without knocking. The girl was curled up on the bed, her back to the door. She clutched her teddy bear against her chest.

  “For one kid, you sure put out a lot of water,” Sabrina said lightly as she sat next to the preteen and pulled her into her arms.

  Anastasia came willingly. Sabrina stroked her hair and rocked back and forth. “I know,” she murmured. “I know how it feels, and before you snap at me and say that I don’t, I’m going to remind you that I lost my parents, too. Remember? I know this is painful and scary. The most scary part is that you’re starting to like him and you don’t want to. After all, what if he changes his mind and sends you to the state home? Or what if he dies, too?”

  Anastasia raised her head. Tears streaked her face. Behind her glasses, her eyelashes were spiky and wet. She sniffed. “How’d you know?”

  “It’s not so hard to figure out. I worried that Gram would die, or that I’d lose one of my sisters. Most of the time I didn’t really care about my brother because he was a real pain.”

  The joke earned her a slight smile.

  Sabrina brushed away the tears. “Cal is a pretty great guy. He’s never been a dad, so he’s gonna make some mistakes. It wouldn’t be so bad to cut him a little slack. You’re the experienced one in the group. Maybe you could help him along. He’s got flaws, but he’s not a quitter. He’s committed to you, Anastasia. He’s not going to send you away.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Of course I do. I make all his appointments and he hasn’t talked to anyone about getting rid of you.” Sabrina took a deep breath. “He’s just as scared as you are. He has this idea that he could really mess you up. We both know that’s not true, but he believes it. See, when he was growing up, his parents didn’t bother with him. They were gone a lot, and they thought he and his sister were just in the way. The staff took care of them. But the staff was always changing, so there wasn’t ever anyone to worry about him, or love him. He wants more for you.”

  “But he was rich.”

  “He was lonely. And you know what that feels like, right?”

  Anastasia nodded. “I get scared, and then I say stuff I don’t really mean.”

  “He knows that, but it would be nice if you could tell him yourself. Honey, he just wants to love you and take care of you. I think you two could have a wonderful relationship, but you need to meet him halfway. He’ll never take the place of the father you remember, but there’s still room in your life for him. It’s okay to love them both. Hearts are funny that way. No matter how many people we love, there’s always enough room for one more.”

  Anastasia hugged her bear close. “You think so?”

  “I promise.”

  That evening Cal stared at the television, but he wasn’t paying attention to the show. He was straining to hear something from upstairs. It had been a coupl
e of hours. Sabrina had come down and said to let Anastasia work it out for herself, but he wasn’t sure he could take much more of this. He felt that every time he turned around, he was doing something else wrong.

  He heard footsteps and looked up. Anastasia paused in the entrance to the room.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi, yourself. You okay?”

  She nodded. “I’m—” She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry about what I said before. I didn’t mean it. Sometimes I just—” She shrugged. “You know. Say stuff. I don’t even want to. It just comes out. I’m sorry.”

  He crossed to her in three strides. Once he reached her side, he didn’t know what to say. “Anastasia, I—”

  She stared at her feet. “I know. It’s pretty dumb, huh?”

  “Not at all.” He reached out and took her hand in his. “It makes sense. But thank you for apologizing. That takes a lot of courage.”

  She raised herself up on tiptoe, pressed a kiss to his cheek, mumbled a quick “good-night” and raced up the stairs. Cal stood staring after her. He felt like Sally Field at the Academy Awards all those years ago when she’d said, “You like me, you really like me.”

  His daughter liked him. Hot damn.

  He knew he was grinning like a fool and he couldn’t help it. Anastasia had made him very happy. He crossed the room and stepped out onto the porch. Sabrina stood at the railing, staring out over the water.

  “Did you tell her to apologize to me?” he asked.

  Sabrina turned toward him. In the half light spilling out from the living room, her red hair looked darker than usual. Shorts exposed long legs, although a loose T-shirt kept the top half of her charms completely covered.

  “Anastasia?” she asked, then continued without waiting for an answer. “Of course not. I did talk to her and explain that you were her father and willing to meet her more than halfway. It was up to her to make the rest of the journey. I’m glad she decided to make it easy.”

  He shifted from foot to foot. “I know this is really dumb, but she kissed me good-night. For that second I felt like her dad.”

  “You are her dad.”

  He moved next to her and looked out at the water. Lights from boats reflected in the moving surface. “I can sniff out an oil field a hundred miles away, but I don’t know the first thing about raising a daughter. And I’m obviously a lousy judge of women. I still believe I should have known what Janice was doing, but I never guessed.”

  “This is getting redundant, Mr. Langtry. None of that is your fault. You were willing to take responsibility as soon as you found out about your daughter. That’s what matters. Let the past go, Cal. Worry about today and maybe a little about tomorrow. You and Anastasia have a chance to be a family together. Don’t let go of that.”

  He hoped Sabrina was right. “I like her,” he said. “I know she’s a real brat at times, but I like her.”

  “If you can say that after everything she’s said to you, then you’re going to be a great father.”

  Cal bumped his shoulder against hers. Sabrina bumped him back, telling herself the action was just playful. He was thrilled that Anastasia had apologized for what she’d said. It was a big step in forming a bond. He had every reason to be happy.

  She was happy for him. At least that’s what she told herself. She was also on fire from standing so close to him. Had he always generated this much body heat or was she just now noticing it? And when had it gotten so warm in the evenings around here? She thought it was supposed to be cool at night.

  She had to get out of here, she told herself. Before she said or did something really stupid. Her hormones were out of control, she couldn’t stop thinking about Cal. If only he would dress in his suits, or even jeans. But the shorts were driving her crazy, what with the way they left his powerful legs bare. Sometimes on the beach, he wore no shirt at all and exposed his flat belly and the dark hair that taunted her. She wanted to put her hands on him and see if he was as hard as he looked.

  She swallowed. Hard. Bad, bad choice of words. It made her think of other things being hard, of—

  Stop it! she commanded herself.

  “Thanks, Sabrina.”

  Before she figured out what he was going to do, he turned toward her and pulled her close. She was too stunned to resist or pull back, then suddenly she found herself pressed against him—chest to chest, thigh to thigh, his face inches from hers.

  “You’re the best, little lady,” he said, deliberately exaggerating his drawl.

  He was teasing and she was slowly melting. Well, at least he would never know how she felt, or how much she wanted him to kiss her. Pride wasn’t much to keep her company, but it was going to have to be enough.

  “Thank you, cowboy,” she said, but her voice sounded funny. Low and husky.

  Cal’s expression shifted from teasing to something else. Dear God, please, he couldn’t guess. That would be too humiliating for words.

  “Sabrina?”

  She started to pull away. Really. That was her intent. But without warning, he dropped his head slightly and pressed his mouth to hers. Then she couldn’t move, she couldn’t think. She could only feel… The soft, firm pressure of his lips against hers, the way his hands cradled her so gently, the heat of him, his strength, the wanting that flooded her until she thought she would drown in the sweetest way possible.

  She told herself it was a “thank you” kiss, that it didn’t mean anything. But the seconds ticked by and he didn’t bother pulling away. If anything, he deepened the pressure, as if testing…or waiting. For her? For a reaction? For her to jerk back and slap him, or did he want something else from her? Surrender?

  Involuntarily, because she sure hadn’t given them permission, her hands crept up his chest to link behind his neck. She raised herself up on her toes and angled her head slightly. That was it. She didn’t do a single thing about his lips pressed against hers, but apparently the other cues were enough because he began to move.

  He parted his lips and brushed them back and forth against hers. The gentle caress stole the last strength from her legs and she sagged against him. Her blood raced faster as a tingle started in her toes, working its way up her body, setting tiny fires of need as it went.

  She’d thought about kissing Cal. Sometimes, when it was late and her defenses were down, she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like, but all that wondering hadn’t even come close to reality. The taste of him, his scent, the powerful wall of muscles supporting her—he was so much more than she could have dreamed. She wasn’t even sure this was real. Maybe it was a fantasy brought on by the night.

  “Sabrina.”

  His voice was thick with desire. A shiver of anticipation rippled through her. As if he read her mind, he opened his mouth a little more and touched the tip of his tongue to her bottom lip. If she hadn’t already been leaning against him, that single stroke would have brought her to her knees.

  She clung to him. Her fingers curled into his muscles as she clutched his shirt. He, too, wore shorts, and the hair on his legs tickled her skin. Her breasts swelled, her nipples grew hard, and between her thighs the ache increased as her body grew slick in anticipation of a hoped-for invasion.

  His tongue swept into her mouth and she was carried away. Everywhere he touched, she melted and wanted more. So much more. It was chemistry, or maybe physics, the attraction of magnets that sealed themselves together, or maybe molecules binding into more stable compounds.

  One of his hands cupped her head, as if to hold her in place. As she answered his kiss, his touches and strokes, with playful forays of her own, she knew she had no intention of pulling back. But she liked the feel of his fingers in her hair.

  With his other hand, he followed the curve of her hip, then moved around to squeeze her rear. The contact brought her pelvis forward. She felt his hardness, the proof that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. As she’d always wanted him. It was—

  Her heart froze in her chest, her breathin
g stopped and she knew she was going to die. Right there on the porch on Balboa Island. Words replayed in her head. As she’d always wanted him. It couldn’t be true. Not that. Not Cal. She knew better. He didn’t really care about her, not as a woman. He didn’t care about anyone romantically. She knew that. Falling for him would be incredibly stupid. She’d protected herself…hadn’t she?

  Cal stepped back. “Sabrina, what’s wrong?”

  She realized she’d stopped kissing him and had dropped her hands to her sides. She shook her head, more to clear it than to answer his question. “Nothing. I’m fine. It’s just…” She touched a hand to her lips. “I’d better go upstairs now.”

  “Sabrina, wait. I’m sorry if I offended you. I didn’t mean—”

  But she was already running up the stairs and she couldn’t hear him. She hurried to her room and closed the door behind her. Her heart had resumed beating in her chest, but now it was pounding so hard she thought it might explode.

  As she crossed to the window to stare out at the night, she fought against the tears burning in her eyes. It had happened. She hadn’t known, or she would have tried to stop it. She knew better, but in this case, that wasn’t enough. Perhaps she’d been foolish to think she could escape. Close proximity and genuine affection had conspired against her. For an assortment of reasons, some that made sense and some that didn’t, she’d fallen in love with Cal.

  When had it happened? These past few weeks? She leaned against the window frame and closed her eyes. No, it had been longer than that. She wasn’t sure how long, but at least a year. Maybe she’d always loved him.

  A single tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. She brushed it away. There was nothing to be done, she told herself. She was already making plans to leave, so she would be safe. Her only concern was to keep Cal from finding out the truth. In the best-case scenario he would be momentarily interested, but it would only be in the chase. Once he caught her, he wouldn’t want her. The worst-case scenario would be that he would only pity her, and she couldn’t stand that.

  Best of all was for him to never find out. Once she was free of him, she would find a way to get over him. Then she would be fine. It wasn’t as if she was going to love him forever.

 

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