What she found was far too big to be called simply a closet. To her left, she spotted racks of men’s clothing and shelves filled with shoes and other decidedly male gear. To her right were empty racks and shelves. “What is this?” Before he could answer, she spotted a door across from her and was almost certain she knew.
“It’s a dressing room,” he answered.
But she hadn’t read a million historical romances for nothing. She whirled and pointed a finger at him. “Don’t tell me your bedroom is through that door.”
His eyes went flat. “All right. I won’t tell you.”
“Michael, this won’t work. Give me another room.”
“There isn’t another room.”
“Give me Bobby’s room.”
“A ten-year-old boy would hate this room. It would attack his very tenuous manhood.”
“Then use some of that money you’re so free with and redecorate it for him.”
“What am I supposed to do with all these furnishings? They won’t fit in the other room.”
She tried not to feel the pang of loss over a room she already adored. “I don’t care. Store them or whatever.”
“No.”
“No? Just like that, no?”
“If you want it, you pay for it.”
She sucked in a breath. “You know I can’t afford that. It would cost a fortune.”
“Exactly.”
“You could do it, Michael.”
He shrugged. “But I don’t want to.”
“I can’t believe you’re behaving like this.”
His cold eyes challenged her. “Are you saying you can’t resist me? That you don’t have the self-control to stay in your own room?”
“Of course not,” she snapped. “It’s just—”
“There are two doors between us. You can shove a chair under the knob if you think your charm is so fatal that my self-control will fail.”
She thought of hot, deep kisses and his hard male body pressing into hers—but then she reminded herself that she’d just seen a side of him she hadn’t known. That he could be hard and cold, that he’d just demonstrated vividly how unsuitable she’d always known they were.
This man had women aplenty only too happy to fall into his arms. Women who were hothouse flowers, not sturdy weeds.
“Fine. But you knock before you enter the dressing room, and I’ll do the same.”
He quickly shuttered his gaze and nodded. Walking to the bed, he laid her packages on the coverlet. “I’ll be downstairs whenever you’re ready to leave. Look around all you want. I have no secrets.”
She watched him go, mouth agape at the blatant falsehood. Maybe he really believed that, but she knew she’d never met a more complicated or mystifying man in her life.
She started to follow him down, then decided a break was in order. A few minutes apart, after the intensity of the last two days, would be very welcome.
She should go see what Bobby’s room looked like. It still didn’t seem real that someday soon her child would live with her, that she would be the mother she’d wanted to be for ten years. Fear set down roots in her chest, a fear she’d been keeping at bay until now, caught up in the whirlwind of this marriage.
She’d dealt with kids for years and had been good with them, but being a mother was completely different. What if she couldn’t give Bobby everything he needed? What if he and Michael didn’t suit? Worse, what if he got attached to Michael?
Fear was a hammer tattooing a beat on her heart. Nothing had ever meant more in her life than doing this right, than reclaiming the child she’d never wanted to give up. She could still recall his tiny features, the perfect shell of his ears, the nose smaller than a button, the dark hair so like hers that lay against his fragile skull. She’d only had a few moments with him, and she’d spent too many of them wanting to take back her promise, to forget everything she’d known was best for him.
Drying up the milk in her breasts had been painful, but it had paled against the agony of drying up the love in her heart. The best she’d been able to do was to lock down the forbidden chamber where yearning for her child still dwelled to this day. She’d done the right thing for Bobby because she’d been too young, had had no resources to care for him the way he deserved.
But knowing that had never seemed to lessen the pain. The best she’d been able to do was to transfer that need to the children she tried to help.
Which brought the children of Hopechest Ranch to mind. Time to stop thinking about this marriage and its dilemmas and get back to work. She couldn’t see Bobby until the weekend, but these kids needed her now. With quick steps, she crossed the landing and opened the door, eager to get a quick peek and get back to work.
Bobby’s room was smaller, but it was in a corner with two sets of windows that gave him a wonderful view of the horses, the barn, and the area where Michael would build Maverick an enclosure. The furnishings were simple, and the walls mostly bare. She liked that. It meant Bobby could put his stamp on the room, if Michael were willing, and that she could provide some things, at last, for her own child.
Satisfied, she closed the door, then moved down the hall and opened the next room, which turned out to be a basic hall bath, nothing fancy. Updated since the house’s Victorian roots, but still with nice touches like the pedestal sink and clawfoot tub with shower. A little crowded for all of them to use, but they could make do. It still dwarfed the tiny bathroom in her apartment.
The final door on that side opened to what had once been a bedroom but was clearly Michael’s home office. Sleek laptop computer, a color printer and fax combined. Lots of shelves filled with books surrounded a huge cherry partner’s desk covered with papers. She’d like to look at the books on his shelves to learn more about him, but she’d have to get too near his papers, and despite what he’d said, it seemed an invasion of his privacy. She closed that door and headed for the stairs.
Her hand paused on the rounded newel post, and she glanced at the door she now knew led to Michael’s bedroom. Part of her was unbearably tempted to peek, but most of her shied away. She had no reason to see Michael’s bedroom, and the more distance they kept between them, the better. He’d made his need for that distance very, very clear.
So Suzanne ignored the insatiable curiosity that had always been a part of her and instead set her feet heading back downstairs. It would not be an easy balance, making this place feel like home for Bobby when she knew it was only a way station on a journey to their future. If cousin Edna would only give up her claim to Bobby, Suzanne would dispense with this charade before she ever had to move Bobby in and avoid the potential confusion that now seemed to lurk in every corner.
But Jim had made it clear when she’d called that he could only hope this marriage would placate Edna, that he was certain she would be watching Suzanne like a hawk for some time to come.
So there was no choice for Suzanne but to set her mind to making a success of this very complicated venture. For the foreseeable future, she had to forget about the day it would all be over and concentrate on finding a way to live in peace and harmony with a man who preferred to be alone. To make a marriage in name only appear real. To be certain that the child who owned her heart got plenty of love from her so that when Michael and she were free to call it quits, her son would suffer as little as possible.
Suzanne realized that she should be very, very grateful that Michael himself had no wish to be more than a kind, distant friend to her son. It was the best thing for all of them. Logic said that the worst thing she could do would be to yield to the inexplicably powerful physical reaction between her and Michael. It would be unfair and stupid and even dangerous. Her tendency to let emotion triumph over logic was her worst enemy right now, and beating the enemy had never been more important. She was locked in a battle for her son and could not afford a single mistake.
She reached the bottom step and spotted Michael on the telephone in the kitchen, looking out the window. Looking too good.
>
She’d made a lot of mistakes in her life, but she feared, deep in her bones, that she would never find one bigger—or more tempting—than getting too close to Michael Longstreet.
Seven
Michael listened to Blake Fallon finish detailing what had been done yesterday to set up today’s move of the kids from Hopechest Ranch to the Colton estate. A day early.
“Sounds like it’s going smoothly, all things considered.”
“Yeah,” Blake said. “Considering you stole my right arm. How is Suzanne?” He paused for a moment, obviously waiting for an explanation.
“Suzanne?” Second thoughts bombarded Michael.
Then Blake laughed. “Surely you two don’t think you can keep this secret. Zeb was on the phone two seconds after you left. The circuits are melting from overload. What the devil’s going on, buddy? You and Suzanne?”
Michael whirled away from the window and started to pace. The next few seconds would be critical, and he needed to be a better actor. Maybe she was right, maybe they should just forget—
Movement in the doorway caught his eye. Suzanne stood there, her eyes no longer angry, only confused.
Now or never, buddy. Fish or cut bait.
“Hey, Longstreet, you still there? I was sure Zeb was imagining things. You and Suzanne can’t be in the same room for five minutes without arguing. But then I went to breakfast this morning and Ruby told me you laid quite a kiss on Suzanne Friday night. You been drinking the water at the ranch and lost your mind or what?”
Michael didn’t look away from Suzanne for another moment, caught by indecision. She looked so small and delicate. So alone. She held his gaze, waiting to see what he would do.
He sucked in a deep breath and ran one hand over his hair, gripping the back of his neck. “What can I say, Blake? The sparks that have been flying for months finally caught fire.”
Blake whistled. “You’re serious? Zeb isn’t making it up?”
Suzanne’s eyes closed quickly, then opened again, warm with gratitude.
He shot her a rueful smile and shrugged. “Zeb’s not making it up. We got married in Tahoe yesterday.”
“Holy smokes! Michael, you don’t have to marry a woman to take her to bed. Suzanne’s hot all right, but—”
“Careful, Blake.” Though he would have agreed with the sentiment about sex and marriage before, he balked at anyone talking about Suzanne like that, even his good friend. “We’ve been striking sparks off each other for a long time. It just took me awhile to figure out why. We’ve been spending some time together and finally I realized that she’s what’s been missing in my life.” He wished he didn’t have an audience in the room, Lying to his friend while Suzanne listened was hard to swallow.
But Blake had to be convinced. If he weren’t, no one else would buy it.
“It’s awful damn sudden, man. Are you sure about this?”
“Suzanne’s not the type to have an affair.” That, at least, he could say with total conviction.
“But marriage?”
“I know it seems sudden, but we just…knew. I’ve never felt like this, Blake.” It was true, but not in the way he hoped Blake would take it.
“You get a prenup?”
Damn, this just kept getting more complicated. “No,” he gritted out. “I’m not worried about my money and no one else should be, either. She’s not like that.” Another truth to mix in with all the lies.
“Hey, you don’t have to convince me of that. I know Suzanne, probably better than you. She’s first-class all the way. I was just wondering what your folks would think.”
“My parents are fine with it.” Actually, they were as shocked as Blake, but since it fell in line with their fondest wish, they were adjusting surprisingly well. But he didn’t want to talk about this anymore. “We just got back and Suzanne’s been itching to find out about the kids. Here she is.” With that, he handed her the phone—and the hot potato topic.
She hesitated, then took the phone as if he’d handed her a lit stick of dynamite. “Blake? How are the kids? I thought we weren’t moving them until Monday or I’d never have—”
Michael watched her pace the floor, one hand fidgeting with the ends of her hair as she asked about one child and then another, the depth of her caring obvious.
“I’ll get Michael to take me to get my car and I’ll be right out there—” She fell silent as Blake interrupted. “Honeymoon?” Her face went blank for a second, then she shot Michael a look. “No, uh, we know we can’t possibly take one right now, not with all that’s going on.” When Michael nodded, she continued. “He and I agreed to wait until all this is over. The town needs him and the kids need me.”
After another pause, she smiled fondly. “We’ll be fine. We’re both adults, Blake, not kids. We have responsibilities that must be taken care of. We wouldn’t have been gone overnight except that we got snowed in.” She chewed at her lower lip while Blake said something else, then laughter burst out. “No, I don’t think Michael’s rich enough to control the weather. Even Joe Colton couldn’t pull that off. And anyway, I’m not exactly a femme fatale.”
That’s what you think. Michael frowned at the certainty in her voice. What did the woman see when she looked in the mirror? Was she blind? They might have severe differences in philosophy and emotional needs, but surely she hadn’t missed what she did to him physically. All things being equal, he’d keep her naked and in his bed for the next decade.
But all things weren’t equal and never would be.
Suzanne’s cheeks flared with hectic color as she told Blake good-bye and hit the disconnect button. For all her boldness and fire, there was an aspect of her that was almost virginal, never mind that he knew she’d had a child at sixteen. She was a complicated woman, entirely too fascinating for his peace of mind.
“Well,” she said on an exhale. “That was awkward.”
He had to chuckle. “Very.” He blew out his own gust of air, settling his hands on his hips. “And it won’t be the last conversation like that we have to negotiate. Let’s just hope the small-town grapevine does its job and people get tired of the novelty quickly.”
Mischief played around her lips. “I could almost be grateful for the water crisis. Otherwise, we’d be the only game in town.”
He met her smile with one of his own, shuddering for effect. “Don’t. You’ll give me nightmares.”
They shared a small laugh that died away quickly, leaving strain in its wake.
“Look, I’m sorry about—” He shrugged and nodded toward the stairs. “I knew it would be awkward, but it’s a nice room and I thought you’d be comfortable there. I can get a lock put on, so you don’t have to worry about—”
She waved his concern away. “No. I won’t worry. It’s just…difficult. But no more difficult for me than for you, having your solitude vanish like this.” She glanced around. The kitchen was state-of-the-art but not cold. “It’s a lovely home, Michael. I can see the improvements you’ve made, but you’ve kept the essential character of this beautiful old house. And Bobby’s room is perfect because it’s got places where he can make it his. We’ll do our best to stay out of your way, though I’ll apologize right now because I don’t think our best will be good enough.”
He shook his head. “It’ll be fine. Sometimes this place is awfully big for one person. The house will probably enjoy the feeling of a family again—even an imposter family. The family who built it had six children. These old walls may be tired of all the silence.” Looking at her, he held out a hand. “Truce?”
She smiled and extended her own. “Truce. And thank you.”
When their hands touched, he felt that special jolt only Suzanne’s skin conveyed to his, but he studiously ignored it. “I thought I’d take you to meet my parents this evening. You up for that?”
Her hand pulled away, her eyes going wide. “Oh, Michael, I told Blake I’d be right out there.” She exhaled in a gust. “And truth to tell, I’m not ready. I know you have thing
s to do and I have to head for the ranch. Do you think they’d understand if we did it tomorrow?”
“I’d call you a coward, but I feel the same way.”
“They won’t like me, will they?” Her voice went flat.
“No, that’s not it. They’ll like you fine. They’ll be thrilled. It’s just…the acting part is wearing.”
“You’re not kidding. I didn’t know how hard it would be.”
He knew it shouldn’t bother him to know that she found it hard to pretend to be crazy about him, but it did sting, more than he wanted to admit. You’re no bargain, pretty boy. A chuckle escaped him.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing. Just…this whole thing.” He glanced up at her, not even vaguely ready to explain. “I’ll call my folks. They understand about duty—it’s their favorite word to me, so I’ll just turn it on them. So, you ready to head back to town?”
She nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. I wouldn’t mind some Groucho glasses at the moment, though.”
He chuckled and gestured for her to proceed him. “If you find some, buy two sets.”
When Suzanne’s musical laughter danced over his hearing, Michael decided the only way to handle this was one minute at a time. They’d passed another hurdle, and that had to count for something.
Suzanne pulled into the gates of Hopechest Ranch and saw a beehive of activity, cars and pickups and vans parked everywhere while the kids milled around carrying a hodgepodge of belongings from stuffed animals to boomboxes.
She should have been there for them, not off on some crazy trek with Michael. These kids had been her life for the last year, and she’d let them down. Never mind that Blake had ordered her to take the weekend off because the move wouldn’t come until Monday. For whatever reason, the move was happening on Sunday instead, and she should have been here.
Still castigating herself, she emerged from the car. With a loud cry, a heavily pregnant teenager launched herself toward Suzanne.
Sweet Child of Mine Page 9