Strictly Temporary

by Robyn Grady

  Squeezing his eyes shut, he counted to three but, wouldn’t you know, the urge only grew. Wasn’t often Zack Harrison felt cornered. Beaten. But now he groaned, whipped out his wallet, dropped a bill over onto the front seat and told the driver, “Wait here. As long as it takes. I’ll be back.”

  * * *

  Trinity Matthews knew precisely what she’d gotten herself into.

  Hours of waiting—and worrying—in a city where she knew no one; the naturopath she’d met and interviewed today for Story didn’t count. And yet as she moved over the polished marble floor, heading for the hotel’s sweeping timber reception desk with the baby carrier weighing on her arm, Trinity couldn’t regret her decision.

  Child Services did their best, but lines were long and resources low. At one time, she’d applied for a job in the department but personal experience with the system, as well as insight into herself, said she’d never cut it. So many neglected or abandoned children… She’d want to take home every one.

  Glancing down, Trinity studied the sleeping baby and raw emotion gripped and thickened in her throat. Nobody asked to be tossed away. Nobody deserved to be, certainly not this little angel. If, in fact, abandonment were the case.

  The echoing slap of footfalls on marble came from behind. Trinity pivoted around. The man from the cab—the one with those incredible midnight eyes, that velvet smooth baritone and a smile that seemed strangely familiar—was jogging up toward her, dodging patrons and hotel staff, overcoat tails flapping behind. As he pulled up, a lock of dark hair fell over his brow and his broad shoulders rolled back as he drew in a deep breath. For a moment, Trinity felt a little out of breath herself. From head to foot, and everywhere in between, what an outstanding example of the male species. And there it was again…that niggle that whispered she knew him.

  And maybe shouldn’t trust him.

  Then he introduced himself and the pieces of that puzzle all fell magically into place.

  “I forgot to introduce myself,” he said with a lopsided grin. “Zackery Harrison.”

  Trinity’s eyes widened at the same time her stomach muscles clutched. Of course! Standing in the brighter light, who could dispute that dynamite build, the Hollywood looks, that authoritative air? In person, Mr. Harrison was indeed criminally sexy. From all she’d read, Trinity also knew he was a greedy, self-serving jerk.

  But she wouldn’t call him out on that here, now. This was neither the place nor time to give Mr. Harrison a piece of her mind. Siphoning in a settling breath, she schooled her features and introduced herself.

  “I’m Trinity Matthews.”

  “Ms. Matthews,” he said, looking as commanding as he did in his numerous celebrity shots, whether appearing bare-chested on his yacht or looking sophisticated and invincible in a tailored suit and tie. “I’ve given this situation more thought and I want to help.”

  Studying his charitable expression, she asked the obvious.

  “Why?”

  Wariness flickered in his eyes before he smiled again. “Because I have some spare time and you need to get back to New York.”

  Trinity took in his intoxicating grin, white and inviting—the same smile that had reached out to intrigue her earlier in the cab. The same look that had seduced some of the country’s most beautiful women and persuaded officials to trade people’s homes for commercial profits. Her blood boiled to even think of self-serving, money-hungry corporate studs like Zack Harrison when so many people did without.

  Which led back to the little person who needed her help now.

  Whom did this baby belong to? What was her story? Trinity couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to cast her aside. She was so perfect. So beautiful.

  “I’ll catch a later flight,” she told Harrison. “I might not be a world expert where caring for new babies is concerned, but chances are I know more than you.”

  Weren’t women supposed to be instinctive about maternal matters like feeding and soothing? Of course, Trinity knew better than most there were exceptions.

  When Zackery Harrison crossed his arms, a subtle cue to have her capitulate and be on her way back to New York, Trinity set down the carrier and crossed her arms, too.

  “I’m not leaving,” she told him, “until I know she’s okay.”

  “I have a place not far from here—”

  “I said no.”

  Babies needed constant care and attention. Love. She wasn’t certain Harrison even had a heart.

  “My neighbors keep an eye on my place when I’m away,” he pushed on. “Mrs. Dale is a spritely grandmother of ten. She doesn’t like today’s music or grasshoppers, particularly when her dianthuses are in bloom. But she adores babies. She used to be a foster mom.”

  Trinity suppressed a shudder. Despite her personal experience, certainly there must be a ton of fabulous ones. Still, she couldn’t help her reflex reaction. For years the term “foster mom” had been interchangeable with “monster mom,” aka Nasty Nora Earnshaw, her own foster mother.

  “Mrs. Dale ran her own home child-care business not so long ago,” he went on. “Still has all the gear—high chairs, playpens. I know she’d be happy to help.” His dark eyes glittered. “You don’t want to miss your interview.”

  Trinity’s fists unclenched.

  Her job meant more to her than anything. It gave her the chance to travel and meet so many interesting and inspirational people. Individuals who touched others’ lives in so many ways. After living in a small Ohio town most of her life, she loved working in New York. She’d made friends there. Had made herself a life.

  Her profession was a fiercely competitive one. In these tough times, positions were hard to come by. With three coworkers laid off last week due to more budget cuts, she couldn’t afford to rock the boat. But then there was this baby.

  While patrons and hotel staff moved around them, going about their business, Trinity looked down again and her heart squeezed.

  She didn’t trust Zack Harrison. How much did he truly know about this neighbor of his, Mrs. Dale? Trinity’s foster mother had given off a caring would-die-for-these-children impression, too. All a big fat lie.

  “How can you be sure this miracle neighbor of yours will be in?” she asked.

  “The Dales are homebodies. I’ve been in town a few days. When I passed by this morning, just before the snow began to fall, Mrs. D was hurrying inside her gate, back from taking one of her grandkids for a walk in the stroller.”

  Nibbling her lower lip, Trinity glanced around the busy foyer…at the helpful receptionist, the bellboy waiting patiently nearby, the concierge at his desk looking ready at a moment to rush over and help.

  She made her decision.

  “We’re staying here. It’s a good hotel. Great staff—”

  “This baby’s better off with someone who knows about children.”

  His voice held a warning note—low and deep—but he didn’t look annoyed, merely determined. And, damn it, didn’t he have a point? They’d already established they had no idea how long the authorities would take getting out. And if she put her own past experience and suspicions aside, Mrs. Dale could be precisely what this baby needed at this uncertain point in time. To be fair, how much of her reluctance was about what was best for the baby and how much about her own issues and personal dislike for Mr. Harrison?

  Trinity gazed down at the baby, still sleeping soundly, and finally relented.

  “Okay.” She nodded. “We’ll go.”

  “We?”

  “I need to see her settled before…” Trinity shut down an image of the baby being taken away to God knows where, for however long, and ended by saying, “Before I leave.”

  Zack Harrison’s features were angled in a strong, classical kind of way. His coal-fringed eyes reflected a character that was both comfortable with himself as well as with others, but they were also hypervigilant. Watchful while somehow resigned—the mark of a man who wielded power and was content in the knowledge that he was indeed a force.

&nb
sp; Self-assured. Unapologetically so. But now Trinity saw another emotion shifting in his gaze.

  Was it respect?

  “In that case,” he said, “we’d better go before our cabbie turns traitor and takes another fare.”

  At the same time he moved to claim the carrier’s handle, so did she. When their hands met, skin against skin, heat on human heat, Trinity felt her face flush as her blood reacted and raced. With that lock of hair hanging over his brow, Zack looked across and grinned at her. Getting her rabid hormones under control, Trinity straightened.

  “Before we go, I think it’s only fair I admit that I know who you are.”

  His chin lifted. “I told you who I was.”

  “I read like everyone else, Mr. Harrison. You help run your family’s hotel chain. You do whatever it takes to get whatever you want—” She hesitated but couldn’t hold it back. “And you pride yourself on seducing beautiful women.”

  The grin froze on his face. “You subscribe to my fan club.”

  “Just so you understand—I’m agreeing to this only because I believe it’s the best option for that baby.”

  “Not because I’m ruthless and irresistible?”

  Her heart jumped and she fought the urge to lick suddenly dry lips.

  “Definitely not because of that.”

  He seemed to loom closer, look hotter, as his eyes glittered, penetrating hers. “Well, now you have that out the way, we should go. Unless…”

  Her antennae quivered. “Unless what?”

  “We get this out of the way now.”

  “Get what out the way?”

  “I thought you might want to kick my shin, slap my face. Pull my nose.”

  The tension locking her shoulders eased. She’d thought for a moment… Oh, but that was ridiculous.

  “I’ll try to restrain myself,” she said.

  He looked at her sideways as if he might be able to glimpse a well-hidden piece of her soul. “Ms. Matthews, you didn’t think I was going to do something wholly in character, like take you in my arms and kiss you? Maybe even ravage you?”

  Her cheeks caught light. The man was outrageous! “Of course not.”

  “I’m such a beast. How can you be sure?”

  “I’m hardly your type,” she pointed out. “Even if I were, after these last few weeks of less than glowing publicity, you couldn’t possibly want to draw attention to yet another incident.” She slid a confident glance around the busy area. “We’re out in the open. Everyone has cell phones and every cell phone has a camera.”

  Mr. Harrison’s eyes lost their spark. His gaze turned dark, almost predatory.

  “You think I care about gossip?”

  “No. I don’t.” She cocked her head. “But maybe you should.”

  That devilish smile twitched and spread again.

  “You’re right. Maybe I should.” He stepped unforgivably close while his gaze held her unforgettably still. “And maybe I should give the world something to really talk about.”

  Two

  Zack slanted his head closer to Trinity Matthews’s stunned violet-colored eyes and almost forgot that he’d been teasing. Making her pay.

  She didn’t know him from a lump of wood. What a laugh that she should make assumptions based on the tripe gossipmongers served up—and how typical. After all, she was one of them—a reporter for some rag-or-other he’d never heard of before today. Most publications shared a common code, turning a castaway line or suggestive photo into a sensation that had nothing to do with the truth and everything to do with building numbers and keeping their parasitic jobs.

  Still, he was a good sport. He wouldn’t hold any of that against Ms. Matthews, particularly when she was so darn cute all fired up, blushing and battling her conscience. Would she make a scene if he did the unimaginable and kissed her, or would she melt into his embrace and maybe make the front page herself?

  Sorely tempted, his head dropped lower, but at the last moment, his trajectory veered and his attention fell again to the baby. He collected the carrier and headed for the hotel exit. A few seconds later, Trinity Matthews’s heels were clicking double-time behind him.

  Outside, from a gray Colorado sky buttressed by mountains, the snow was falling faster. When they were all safely back in the cab, Zack called Child Services on his cell while the meter ticked and Trinity watched the baby. Finally he spoke with a woman who asked for his number and address then said a representative would get back to him as soon as possible. She also said it was her obligation to inform the police of all details, including his. Perfect. Saved him.

  As he ended the call, in hushed tones, Trinity asked, “What’d they say?”

  “They’ll get back to us.”

  “When?”

  “When they can.” Soon, he hoped. He slotted the cell away. “In the meantime, we’ll pick up some spare diapers and head over to Mrs. Dale’s.”

  When the authorities took away the baby, he’d pay for Trinity’s return fare to the airport. With this good deed done and out of the way, he’d get to sipping that brandy before a toasty log fire. Zack was in half a mind to ask whether Trinity might like to join him, if only to see whether she’d leap at the chance to dress him down or betray her morality for curiosity and accept.

  They stopped at a drugstore. The baby was still asleep when Zack returned to load the trunk with two bags of diapers, as well as wipes, additional formula, bottles and three small undershirts and one-piece outfits. As Zack well knew, in any venture, preparedness was the key. Besides, the pink suit had tiny ears on the hood like a cat or bear. Who could pass that up?

  The baby was still pushing out pint-size z’s when half an hour later the cab swerved into his neighbors’ long driveway.

  Dusk had fallen over the peaceful, largely unpopulated district, which was bordered by giant firs, their branches burdened with the weight of new snow. A lonely streetlamp cast an eerie glow over the wintery ground but no light shone from the Dales’ place. In fact, for the first time Zack could recall, that house appeared quite still.

  Deserted.

  Trinity was peering out the foggy window, too.

  “No one’s home.” Studying the surrounding woods, she sat back and hugged herself. “We should have stayed at the hotel. Do you even get cell reception out this far?”

  “If you’re heading back in, you’d want to be quick about it.” The driver upped the wiper speed and blades thrashed triple-time across the icy screen. “This is turning into a storm.”

  Fingers threaded on his lap, Zack thought for a moment then gave the driver instructions. “Continue on, a hundred yards down on your right.”

  “Hang on just a minute.” Trinity clutched her seat belt like it was the only parachute on a plane going down. “Did you hear what he said? This snow’s not letting up. If we’re going back into town, we need to go now.”

  “The authorities have my details. They know where we’re headed. We’ll stay put until they get back to us.”

  In the growing shadows, her eyes flashed and those kissable lips tightened. She shook her head. “We’re going back.”

  “Not an option.”

  “Why not?”

  “You mean aside from being smart and staying out of this weather?”

  He paused long enough to draw attention to wind gusting and whistling outside. When Mother Nature spoke, people did best to listen. Besides, he refused to set foot inside that hotel again until Dirkins had sufficient time to sweat over his offer. If he checked in tonight, the owner of that hotel would assume Zack had weakened and was prepared to sweeten the offer he’d made. That wasn’t the case, no matter how much Zack sympathized with Dirkins’s personal situation. A death in the family was never easy, particularly, he imagined, when it involved an only son.

  The baby shifted. A tiny fist curled into the blanket. Zack held his breath while she yawned, stretched and squeaked at the same time a frown pinched her flawless brow.

  He growled. That did it.

  �
�My cabin’s a minute’s drive from here,” he said. “Don’t know about you, but I’d rather dance naked in that snow than be stuck in a cab when she wakes up crying.”

  The baby squeaked again, louder this time. Then her nose wrinkled before she settled fitfully again. Trinity pressed her lips together for a considering moment before her hold on the seat belt eased and reluctantly fell away.

  “All right. We’ll go to your place.”

  Wasting no time, Zack tapped the driver’s shoulder and the cab pulled carefully out of the Dales’ snow-clogged driveway. After the baby was put down again later, before the authorities arrived, he and Ms. Matthews could take time to reflect on the decisions they’d made, perhaps while sitting in front of a crackling fire with that brandy that felt so close now, he could almost taste it.

  Despite her stand, animal instinct said she was as attracted to him as he was to her. Could be interesting getting to know her a little better.

  Gazing out the window, Zack slowly smiled.

  Who was he kidding? Truth was that he’d like to get to know Ms. Matthews, and her attitude, a whole lot more.

  * * *

  At the same time the cab rolled away from Zack Harrison’s address, the full moon peeked out from beneath its heavy blanket of cloud. As a silvery glow illuminated the scene, Trinity could barely stop from gasping and rubbing to clear her eyes.

  This was a cabin?

  Zack, with the carrier and bags of baby supplies, was already striding through the drifts on his way to the covered entrance of the spectacular A-frame home. Flopping her coat’s hood over her head, Trinity gripped her case and hurried after him. He pushed back the large timber door, flicked on a light and she stepped through into central-heated heaven. Marveling over her new surroundings, she blindly set her case on the hardwood floor.

  The lower story was huge and open plan, various details of which hinted at exceptional wealth as well as a rustic homey welcome. To the right, the kitchen area was elevated one step and dressed in soaring polished oak with shining granite trimmings. At the far end of the room, a state-of-the-art media section was laid out before sumptuous connected leather recliners. In the center of a massive slate wall, a significant stone fireplace begged to be lit and have marshmallows toasted over gentle flames. A hallway off the foyer would lead to bedrooms, Trinity decided. As she drew back her hood, her gaze climbed a loft staircase that led to a mezzanine floor encased by carved timber rails.