by Desiree Holt
“No, I was awake.” After an unbelievable dream about you so hot I’m still shaking. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Yes. That is…”
“That is?” she prompted. She couldn’t imagine this man ever fumbling for words.
“I was just thinking maybe I came across too strong tonight.” His voice was slightly hoarse, and she caught the edge of anxiety. This must really be damn important o him. “I wanted to make sure I hadn’t scared you away.”
Too strong? She swallowed a hysterical laugh. A bulldozer would have been softer.
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Just turning a lot of things over in my mind.”
“I’m sure you are.” He cleared his throat. “Actually, I’m feeling kind of guilty. I don’t think I realized I’d be asking you to turn your life upside down quite so much.”
“Please don’t worry. But I think we’d better hang up now. I’m still trying to sort through everything, and the night isn’t getting any longer.”
And I need to go to sleep and not dream about you.
“Of course. I‘m sorry,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have called this late in the first place.”
“No, it’s all right. Really.”
Another pause. “To tell the truth, I think I was afraid you might decide I was totally crazy, pack up and leave.”
“Not a chance.” Though, after the dream, the idea had occurred to her. How could she agree to a sexless marriage with a man she wanted inside her every time she saw him? “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Thank you for that. And Tara? Whatever you decide, I want you to know it won’t cost you your job.”
Now she really did want to laugh. If she turned him down, how on earth could she go back to their everyday work arrangement—and keep dreaming at night—as if nothing had changed?
“We can discuss it if that turns out to be the case.”
“Well, then.” He seemed reluctant to break the connection. Again, silence stretched across the line. “See you in the morning.”
“Good night.”
More restless now than ever, she went to the kitchen and made herself a cup of tea, sipping at it and staring out the window as if the answer waited for her out there somewhere.
She could only hope.
* * * *
At six in the morning, Cole finally gave up trying to sleep, showered and dressed. The child was still asleep, as was the dreadful housekeeper the last agency he’d called had sent him. If he didn’t get her out of the house soon, he might have to shoot her.
Entering his office, he was surprised to find Jake already waiting for him.
He grinned at Cole. “Figure to dodge me by being an early bird? Not a chance. So. How did it go last night?”
“Please.” Cole shook his head. “I’ve already had the speech from Sean. I woke him up in the middle of the night to tell him you’re both right. I’m a fool.”
And what a conversation that had been, prompting that incredibly stupid phone call to Tara.
Jake frowned at him. “Does this mean she turned you down?”
“It means she said she’d give me an answer today.” He sat down beside his desk and pretended to busy himself with a stack of change orders.
“You look as if you haven’t slept in a year.”
“That’s how I feel.”
Especially after the fantasies that popped into my head when I tried to sleep and now won’t get out of my mind. Tara naked in my bed. Tara with her legs spread wide and her swollen, pink cunt—
“Cole?” Jake’s voice cut into his mental wanderings. “Did you hear me? I asked how she reacted to the ‘No Sex’ clause?”
Cole frowned, remembering a mixture of relief and disappointment. “Actually, I think she was relieved.”“Well.” Jake ambled toward the door. “I’d wish you good luck, but if Tara says yes, she’s the one who’ll need it.”
Cole said nothing. He was too edgy to argue and so uptight he was afraid he’d crack if he bent over. Although he tried, it was impossible to concentrate on the work orders in front of him. He brewed himself at least six cups of coffee from his handy Keurig coffeemaker. Within half an hour, his stomach had a sour feel and his head was buzzing from a caffeine high. His looked through the open doorway to Tara’s desk at least every two minutes, although she always got there on the dot of eight.
When she finally arrived, his entire body cramped. What if she said no? What were his choices? What if she said yes? Could he marry a woman his body suddenly craved with desperation and commit to a no-sex future?
She was dressed in her usual jeans and a blouse, clothes he had found decidedly unsexy where she was concerned. But today his mind imagined the satiny skin beneath it, and he wondered what her breasts would be like free of their restraining bra. If her nipple were large or small and how they would taste. How it would feel to be inside her. Was she tight? Would she be so wet for him it didn’t matter?
Jesus! What the hell is wrong with me?
He watched her stow her purse in a bottom desk drawer, boot up her computer and call the answering service for messages. Finally, she just sat there with her hands folded, not moving.
She wasn’t making a move to come into his office. His head ached, and his stomach churned with anxiety. Was she trying to find a way to let him down easy? Had his stupid phone call in the middle of the night killed any possibility of the bargain he’d presented? Frustrated, he tore off the sheet of paper he’d been writing on, crumpled it into a ball and threw it hard against the office wall.
“Is it safe to come in?”
He looked up. Tara stood at the office door, a tentative smile on her face.
“Of course.” He blew out a breath.
“You look as if you’re chewing steel,” she told him.
“I probably could right now.” He motioned her forward. “Please. Come in.”
She closed the door, probably to give them privacy in case anyone wandered in, then leaned back against it. Had she slept at all after he’d called? Or had she spent the night as he had, confounded by the whole situation? He gritted his teeth with the tension.
At last, she took a deep breath and let it out. “Before I give you my answer, it would help to go out to your house and see Molly. If I’m going to be her…mother, I don’t think that’s an unreasonable request.”
Cole’s body tightened. Of course. She’d want to see what she was getting into. Maybe that would be the last nail in his coffin, but he nodded. “No problem. When do you want to go?”
“I think the sooner the better. Mornings are usually the quietest around here. I can forward the calls to the answering service and, of course, let Jake and Sean know we’ll be leaving.”
Cole could well imagine what those two would think.
“All right. Let me know as soon as you’re ready.”
Before nine o’clock, they were heading out I-10 in a tension-filled silence. Whatever sexual overtones might have popped up unexpectedly were certainly absent now.
Cole’s house was located in Alamo Heights, a suburb of old money and executive wealth, He’d fallen in love with the architecture of the Georgian colonial and enjoyed living there until his life fell apart. Now, despite the oleanders and bougainvillea blooming in colorful profusion and two large crepe myrtles covered in soft lilac blossoms, everything looked cold and lifeless to him.
“It’s beautiful,” she commented, turning toward him.
If you only knew.
Cole felt as if Armageddon was just beyond the doors. He had deliberately not called to give the housekeeper any warning, wanting Tara to understand completely what she was walking into.
“Don’t think the outside is an indication of the inside. I have an excellent lawn service.” His voice was taut as a rubber band. “You may be in for more of a surprise than you thought. The housekeepers haven’t done as good a job as the yardmen. This one can’t seem to walk and chew gum at the same time.”
“Where do you ge
t them?” She raised one eyebrow in curiosity. “The housekeepers, I mean.”
“An agency. And this isn’t the first one I’ve tried. I’ve gone through six in as many weeks.” Did that make him sound like an impossible perfectionist to work for? But surely she knew from the office how he was. And if anyone could make order out of chaos, it was Tara.
He took a deep breath, feeling as if he were about to plunge off a cliff. “All right. Let’s go on in.”
Tara had been prepared for a sterile environment, with a little girl tended to by robots on an orderly schedule. Robots who had no idea how to relate to a child. What greeted her was beyond anything she’d imagined.
A sharp voice drifted out from the kitchen. “Take this bottle. Open your mouth now or I’ll throw this away.”
Tara couldn’t believe the animosity in the tone. But the room they stepped into was worse than any irritable voice. All around them was total disorder, the accumulation of neglect evident. The housekeeper sat in one of the kitchen chairs, a bottle in one hand, a screaming child in the other.
Tara was stunned. Had Cole even noticed what was going on here? She looked at the distressed baby and felt her heart lurch. At the center of the maelstrom was the most adorable infant she had ever seen. A fuzz of dark hair framed a pixie face with round cheeks, now more red than pink. Thick lashes fringed warm dark eyes and dimples flashed at the corners of her mouth. She was dressed in a onesie that was stained in the front and from the odor in the kitchen none to clean.
She spied Tara and Cole and began to scream even louder.
The housekeeper turned, startled. “Oh! I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting you, Mr. Cassidy.”
Tara could believe that.
Cole cleared his throat. “Mrs. Randall, this is Tara McKee.”
“Hello.” She got up from her chair, juggling the baby and sighed. “I’ve been trying to get this bottle into her for ages without any success.”
Cole made no acknowledgement of anything, simply stepped back as if removing himself from the scene.
Tara’s mind processed everything. So this was the reason for the urgent proposal. This woman obviously didn’t like children, at least not this one. And her housekeeping skills wouldn’t win any awards. Why on earth would she take a job caring for a house and child if she hated doing it? And why didn’t Cole at least get a cleaning crew in here once in a while? Had he just washed his hands of everything to do with his personal life?
This is a nightmare. But the baby. Oh, that heartwarming child so badly needs someone to love her.
What on earth had happened in this house to bring it to the brink of such destruction? She looked at Cole, hoping for some kind of explanation, but he simply stood near the wall, his posture stiff and unyielding. Every line of his body shouted aversion to the whole thing. She would have thought him cold and unfeeling if not for the torment in his eyes. His gaze begged her, Please don’t judge me so quickly.
So many emotions bubbled up inside Tara that for a moment she had trouble maintaining her composure. It included a pain that had never left her heart, a secret she hadn’t felt the need to share with Cole. This was a disaster, and sooner or later, she had to get to the bottom of this. But not right now, when there were more urgent matters.
Suddenly, Molly hiccupped, stopped crying and reached her tiny arms out to Tara. And Tara’s world turned upside down. Gone in an instant were her fears and misgivings at sharing a house with Cole and her dismay at what faced her. With one gesture, Molly Cassidy had become the focus of Tara’s world, and an unusual feeling of calm settled over her.
She was getting something she’d never thought to have, and that alone would help her do this. She could make it work. All she needed was to get past the emotional landmines she knew awaited her. She stepped over to the chair.
“May I?” Without waiting for an answer, she dropped her purse on the counter and lifted the baby from the housekeeper’s arms. As she nestled her cheek against the soft skin of the baby’s face, she felt a painful hitch in her heart. Tears pricked the inside of her eyelids, threatening to run down her cheeks and she blinked hard to contain them.
“She needs cleaning up,” Mrs. Randall said nervously.
No kidding!
“That’s all right.” Tara smiled. “Why don’t I take her upstairs and change her?”
The housekeeper looked at Cole for answers.
He just nodded, looking like a caged eagle desperate to take flight. The message was clear to Tara—do whatever needs to be done, but leave him out of it. If she’d had her car with her, she’d have told him to go on back to the office at once. She had never seen him this uptight.
“I’ll take care of her.” She spoke in a quiet tone to the housekeeper. She turned to Cole. “Which way is upstairs?”
“This way.” He led her out of the kitchen, into the hall then to the sweeping arc of the stairway.
Tara stopped at the bottom step. “We have a lot to discuss, but I’ll give you my answer now. Yes. I’ll agree to this bizarre marriage arrangement. The sooner the better.”
Cole visibly sagged with relief. “Tara, I promise you I’ll make sure you won’t regret this. A bargain is a bargain, and I’ll keep my end.”
“Don’t make promises you might not be able to keep,” she said tautly. “Meanwhile, we have some immediate problems to resolve. Get rid of that dreadful woman. Pay her and send her on her way. This seems to be way beyond her capability, and I don’t particularly care for her attitude toward Molly.”
“Tara, I—”
“It’s all right. And call Jake. Ask him to look in my Rolodex for the number for the cleaning service we use for new construction.” She stopped, suddenly worried. “I’m not presuming too much, am I? Overstepping my bounds?”
“You’re kidding, right? This is more than I hoped for. But what about…”
She shook her head. “When I come back down.”
Cole tried once again to say something, but Tara hurried up the stairs with Molly in her arms. The upper floor had the same depressing air of neglect as the kitchen and a musty odor hung over everything.
What’s wrong here? I can’t understand why Cole would tolerate this kind of existence.
She located the nursery at the end of the hall. Not wanting to take the time for a tub bath, she stripped off the little girl’s clothes, carried her into the adjoining bathroom and ran a sink of warm water. While she bathed Molly gently with a washcloth, she talked to her and sang songs she dredged up from her childhood.
I have to be the dumbest person in the world to agree to this. But it’s criminal what’s happening with this adorable little girl. How could Cole ignore his child this way? He acts as if she’s contagious. I would have expected a lot more from him.
But it was what it was, and without hesitation, she decided her next move.
Her mind raced, and her stomach did flip-flops at the thought of the very unTara-like thing she was about to do. She worried that this really was pushing it, but the minute she’d seen Molly, everything else ceased to exist. This—a child to love who obviously needed her —was the only thing that mattered right now. And she would do whatever she had to where Molly’s welfare was concerned. Even if it meant suppressing those flames of desire that consumed her whenever she was in Cole’s presence.
She opened a drawer and pulled out the first onesie she came to, thinking inventory later. In a few minutes, she carried a clean and freshly dressed Molly downstairs and went to find Cole. He stood in the kitchen, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, face set in granite.
“She’s gone.” He paused, his voice and posture indicating his discomfort. “Tara, I know what you must be thinking…”
“One of these days you’ll have to tell me what’s going on here, but right now this child needs attention.”
“Shall I call the agency to send someone else?” he asked, his voice hesitant.
Tara sat down with Molly in her lap, cuddling the infant against her. �
��No, I think not. You said I could make decisions, so I’m taking you at your word.” “Anything.” His relief was evident. “Whatever you want, as long as you don’t change your mind.”
Okay, she thought, here goes. “I think I should move into the house right away.” She held her breath, waiting for him to say something, but he was silent. “Does that shock you? The situation with Molly is the most important thing right now. You said to do what’s best for her. And we’re going to be married quickly, right?”
Breath whooshed out of him in the biggest sigh of relief Tara had ever heard. A smile, the first his mouth had formed in ages, tugged at his lips. “You really are full of surprises, aren’t you? I was hoping that was what you’d do. Tackle it the way you do every project in the office.”
For a moment, his reminder of the business-like nature of the situation chilled her, but she quickly brushed away the feeling. “I don’t suppose that will cause any more gossip among your friends than the wedding itself.”“The hell with my friends. They were never there when I needed them anyway. I just want to be sensitive about appearances for your sake.”
“I think appearances are the least of the problem here. The only people I’m concerned about are my parents, and I’ll deal with that. Somehow.” She paused. “But that presents another problem. This means I won’t be coming back to the office. That will cause some problems for you.” She nibbled at her lower lip, rocking the baby gently in her arms. “I’ll call the temp agency we used when I took vacation. I’ll tell them we’re looking for a permanent replacement and to send us someone qualified who’s looking for that.”
“I can make the call if that would help,” Cole ventured.
Tara shook her head. “No. Not to step on your toes but I know better what’s needed in that job so I’ll take care of it. But I’ll need to get my car, go by my house, put together a schedule to get everything done.” She got up and looked in the pantry and the refrigerator. More disaster. “And grocery shop.”
“I think we should take care of the license and the rings today. I’ll call Judge Harrison about performing the ceremony, unless you have a preference of some kind.” The lines in his face deepened. What about the child? Can you do something with her? I don’t want to haul her around with us.”
