The Only Man for Maggie

by Leigh Michaels

Brenda tucked a soft knitted blanket over her. "Well, don't worry about it. Perhaps later you can make out a list of what you'll need, and I'll go out. We certainly can't have you taking chances on the stairs at Eagle's Landing—they're frightful."

  Maggie wasn't about to admit that was exactly what she'd done. "You know the house?"

  "I've been in it. Before it was converted to apartments, the last family who lived there threw it open for a tour to raise funds for the local historical society."

  "I didn't know we had one."

  "Oh, yes. It's very small, and not very active—I'm afraid I'm just about the youngest member."

  It would have made for some dark humor, Maggie thought, if during her abortive drive to save Eagle's Landing she'd tracked down the local historical society, called to complain about Elliot the Great, and ended up talking to his mother!

  After Brenda left, Maggie settled back against the pillows and looked around.

  Brenda had drawn the curtains, but enough afternoon light seeped through the panels to let her study the room. She thought it must have been a music room when the house was new, or perhaps a study, for it was set slightly apart from the rest of the house as if to isolate sound. The room was nicely proportioned, with a high ceiling set off by a deep, intricately-carved crown molding. The floor was random-width oak boards, with no rugs to create a hazard for her crutches. The desk was big and practical, the bath small but efficient.

  If she couldn't be at home, this was by far the best choice open to her. It was only now beginning to sink in on Maggie how terribly difficult it would have been to manage on her own—and how few options she'd had. For someone as sensitive of her privacy as Maggie was, having just anyone around wasn't the answer. The idea of someone constantly hovering over her was distasteful—but if she had to ask for each tiny bit of help, that would perhaps be even worse.

  But Brenda Elliot seemed to have a gift for helping without smothering. Maggie genuinely liked the woman, and sensed that spending a month in her company would be no effort at all.

  Now if Karr had only found Tripp, safe and unhurt, her cup would be full to overflowing…

  She dozed off still thinking of the dog, and woke with a jolt, not sure where she was and completely confused about the time. Did the soft light which filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the floor, mean it was early evening, or early morning?

  Evening, she realized. She'd napped for several hours, but she hadn't slept around the clock as she'd feared. She washed her face and straightened her rumpled blouse as best she could. When Brenda went out to get things from her apartment, Maggie decided, clothes would be just has high on the priority list as her computer was.

  As Maggie came slowly into the living room, Brenda put down the current issue of Today's Woman and looked up with a smile. "You have your color back," she observed.

  "That's good. How's your appetite? I've got a chicken dish simmering for dinner."

  "It sounds wonderful—I'm hungry." Maggie looked around, hoping against hope to see a tiny, enthusiastic Yorkie. But of course, if Tripp had been in the room, he'd have greeted her instantly. "Has Karr been back?"

  Brenda shook her head. "I'm afraid not. Dinner won't be ready for a while, but I'll get you a snack in the meantime."

  Before Maggie could protest at the extra bother, Brenda went off down the center hall toward the kitchen.

  Maggie sat down on the couch and stared at the fire which blazed cheerfully on the hearth. She shouldn't have pinned her hopes on Karr finding the dog, she supposed. Even though he'd said he'd search for Tripp…

  A nasty little voice in the back of her mind whispered that Karr had other things to do, things that were certainly more important to him than hunting for her dog. Maybe he'd only said he'd look in order to get her into the Mercedes and away from Eagle's Landing.

  He didn't even like the animal…

  Maggie smothered the doubt as firmly as she'd have stepped on a bug. Of course Karr had hunted, she told herself. He wouldn't have told her he'd look if he didn't intend to—so if Karr hadn't found Tripp, it was because the dog was simply gone.

  A cold little ache settled around her heart as she realized that she might never know exactly what had happened to her pet.

  Deliberately, she picked up the magazine Brenda had tossed aside and tried to concentrate on it. She'd glanced at the issue a couple of weeks ago, as soon as it had come off the press, just to be sure that the printers hadn't made any horrible errors and the features she'd worked on had turned out as she'd expected.

  But even though there was seldom time in her busy schedule to really enjoy the fruits of her work, the magazine couldn't hold her attention. She laid it aside and started toward the kitchen. Perhaps she could help with dinner, and keeping her hands busy might help her stop thinking of Tripp.

  The doorbell rang just as she passed through the hall, startling her so that her crutch skidded slightly on the marble floor. She didn't wait for Brenda to come around the corner but pulled the door open.

  Karr stood on the step, wearing a bulky jacket which was zipped halfway up. The breeze was crisper than it had been earlier in the day, and Maggie shivered a little—partly from the cold air, and partly because his hands were empty. He wasn't holding a leash, and that meant she wasn't going to get her dog back.

  Her eyes filled with tears. Tripp had been her companion since she'd moved into Eagle's Landing. He was the first pet she'd ever had—and life would be very lonely without him.

  The front of Karr's jacket seemed to move, but Maggie thought it was simply because her eyes were blurry. Then a beady-eyed little face poked out above the zipper.

  "Tripp!" Maggie shrieked, and dropped a crutch to reach for him.

  Karr took a quick step and put his arm around her. "Watch out—I guarantee you don't want to take a fall on this marble."

  Maggie hardly heard him. The Yorkie stretched up to lick her face. He looked as if he was grinning.

  "Where did you find him?" she demanded. There was a catch in her voice which hurt her throat. "It's been so long, I thought he was gone for sure."

  "Now that's enough to make me feel insulted," Karr complained. "Didn't you have faith in me? I told you I'd find the dust mop."

  "Toupee," she corrected, and tried to blink the tears away. "I can't believe he's letting you carry him like that."

  "I'm not so sure he likes it, but his fur's still damp, so I thought I'd better keep him out of the wind."

  "Damp? Where was he?"

  "Down by the lake. That's what held us up. He was so coated with mud I wasn't sure which end was which, and I knew Mother would have a fit if I brought him in that condition, so I gave him a bath."

  "A what?"

  Karr's eyebrows rose. "You disapprove of baths?"

  "Tripp hates getting wet. I can hardly hold him down long enough to get him clean."

  "That's because he's got you wrapped around his paw. Once he realized I meant business, he settled right down." Karr unzipped the jacket and, keeping one arm around Maggie's waist to steady her, set the dog on the floor.

  Tripp danced a little as his paws hit the cold marble, and with an eye to comfort he headed straight for the carpeted living room and flopped down in front of the fire.

  With a smile, Maggie watched him making himself at home. "Thanks for finding him, Karr," she said softly. "I know he's been an awful nuisance, but he's very special to me."

  "You both have your moments." Karr's voice was gruff, and she looked up at him in surprise.

  She'd been too preoccupied with the dog to notice how very close Karr was standing. But then, he was practically holding her up; his arm was like a steel band, strong and impersonal, making it as safe to lean on him as on a rock…

  And she was leaning. The entire length of her body was pressed against him, and his warmth had soaked straight through her clothes, spreading till every inch of her skin seemed to be aflame from the contact. And his eyes… she met his gaze,
dark and intense and far from impersonal, and suddenly she had to make an effort to breathe.

  He was going to kiss her, and Maggie didn't mind at all. The realization hit her hard; surely she ought to mind. But at the moment she couldn't quite remember why.

  The first brush of his lips against hers made her head swim, and she clutched at him in something close to desperation, afraid that if she didn't hold on as tightly as she could, she would spin dizzily into perpetual darkness. He tasted of coffee, and his cologne mixed nicely with the scent of soap. The combination made her senses reel, and she pressed herself even closer, knowing that the solidness of him was her link with reality.

  As if from a great distance, she heard a bang, and Karr raised his head. "There went the other crutch," he said, with a tiny chuckle in his voice.

  Dimly, Maggie realized that she had planted both hands against his chest and twisted the front of his jacket into makeshift handles. No wonder he was amused! She tried to push herself away and smooth out the wrinkles she'd made in his jacket, but Karr's hands remained steady on her hips.

  "That was a very pleasant thank you, Maggie my dear."

  She could feel color washing over her face. He sounded as if she'd written him a pleasant little note, not kissed him as if he was her life's breath.

  And that was just as well, she told herself grimly. However nice he was being this afternoon, she'd better not allow herself to forget that Karr had his own agenda.

  "And that wasn't a bad try at convincing me not to sue you, either," she murmured.

  "Of course, it didn't accomplish the purpose, but still—" From the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of movement at the back of the hall, and moaned, "Oh, no. Your mother saw that." She braced herself, expecting him to pull away.

  But he didn't. "No doubt," he said comfortably.

  "Don't you mind?"

  "Well, I'm grown-up now, and I figure I can kiss whomever I want, whether or not my mother's watching. Besides, that little scene should go a long way toward convincing her that I'm attracted to you."

  Maggie was startled. He sounded almost casual about it—even slightly amused at the idea. "What? You can't possibly want her to think that you and I—" She swallowed hard. "That's insane, Karr. What are you thinking of?"

  Karr shrugged. "Well, I had to give her some reason why she should take you in. I could hardly tell her you're the bane of my existence, could I? Or that you're threatening to drag me into court? She'd have told me to stash you in a rooming house somewhere."

  He studied her critically. "I think you've been standing too long, Maggie. You've got hardly any color left." He scooped her up in his arms. "Where were you going, anyway?"

  "I can get there on my own power," Maggie announced. "This caveman act of yours is getting to be a nasty habit, Karr."

  He shrugged. "Really? What are you planning to do about it?"

  From behind them, Brenda said calmly, "I'm glad you're back, Karr. Dinner will be ready in an hour—can you stay and entertain Maggie?"

  His eyes brightened, and his voice was husky. "I'll do my very best."

  Maggie wanted to bury her head, but since the only hiding spot within reach was Karr's shoulder, she thought a pretense of dignity was a better choice. What other options did she have, after all, when she was bundled up in his arms, four feet off the floor?

  Brenda set the tray she was carrying down on the coffee table. Tripp looked up at her speculatively, decided that the aromas from the tray made Brenda a friend, and sat up to beg.

  Karr put Maggie down on the loveseat nearest the fire and slid the hassock neatly under her cast. "Well, I like that," he told the dog. "What an apple-polisher you are!"

  Before Maggie could ask him to retrieve her crutches from the hall, he sat down next to her, rather closer than she felt was comfortable, reached for a cracker and a bit of cheese from the tray, and popped the combination into his mouth whole.

  Tripp watched him mournfully and stood up beside the couch, bracing his front paws on Karr's knee.

  "Down," Maggie ordered, and turned to Brenda. "I didn't think to ask about the dog, but if you don't want him around—" She racked her brain for another possibility, and turned to Karr, her eyes pleading.

  "Don't look at me," he said lazily. "I've done my bit just by finding him. I'm not adopting him. And who says Mother doesn't like dogs, anyway? I just said, she doesn't care for muddy ones."

  "Dogs are certainly better than tarantulas." Brenda handed Maggie a glass of white wine. "Or, for that matter, the baby raccoon you insisted on keeping."

  "You had tarantulas?" Maggie asked.

  Karr ate another chunk of cheese. "Why do women object to spiders, anyway? They were certainly less trouble than the raccoon. He chewed a hole in a kitchen cabinet one night, and it took a whole month of my allowance to repair the damage."

  "The tarantulas, on the other hand, cost me the best housekeeper I ever had."

  Brenda said calmly. "Have some cheese, Maggie, before Karr consumes it all."

  Karr propped an elbow on the back of the loveseat and leaned toward Maggie.

  "You're a troublemaker, you know that?"

  "Me?"

  "Yes. Mother hadn't mentioned the tarantulas getting loose in almost five years. Then you come along, and—"

  "And that makes it my fault?" Maggie half-turned to face him, and the brilliance of his smile almost stunned her.

  Thank heaven he'd warned her this whole thing was only a bit of play-acting; she hated to think what craziness would be running through her mind right now if she thought he might be serious.

  But play-acting or not, Maggie decided, she'd have to get him alone very soon and put a stop to this. It was nothing but a silly trick, anyway.

  And also not a very flattering one, when she stopped to think about it. He seemed to be implying that Brenda couldn't possibly like Maggie enough to take her in for her own sake. That insult must be why she had such an odd, empty feeling in the pit of her stomach…

  But in the meantime, all she could do was be a good sport about it. She reached for her wine glass, and Tripp stretched out his tongue and lazily lapped at her wrist.

  She stared at the dog in amazement. When had he crept into Karr's lap and curled up? "What have you done to my dog?" she demanded. "He's behaving as if you've brainwashed him."

  Karr gave her a disbelieving look. "Why would I want him to worship me? He's a damned nuisance."

  "Well, something changed his attitude about you."

  "Oh, that's easily explained. I found him stranded in a briar patch, and before I started cutting him out, we had a little man-to-toupee chat about his behavior." Tripp yawned and rolled over in Karr's lap to display a sensitive patch of tummy. "I thought we'd got a few things straightened out, but I may have gone a bit too far." Karr stroked the soft fur.

  Maggie shook her head in disbelief.

  "Your box of papers is in the Mercedes, by the way," Karr went on. "And your computer. Don't let me forget to bring it in. I've made arrangements for Libby to pack your clothes and everything you'll need for a while. Let her know what you want, and she'll make sure it gets here."

  "But she's got so many other things to do, Karr. Between moving and unpacking and starting to work—"

  He shrugged. "I'll just make that her first assignment. What do you suggest instead? You can't do it, and though Mom doesn't realize it yet, she'll have her hands full keeping you under control."

  Maggie was quiet. If only she could get up those stairs… But she couldn't, and the box of papers was a painful reminder that even if she was physically able to get back to her apartment, she didn't have time to deal with the details. She'd lost two more days because of this accident, and the deadline was creeping closer.

  Karr stretched an arm across the back of the couch, around her shoulders, and murmured, "Unless, of course, you'd like me to do it myself."

  Maggie turned her head abruptly. He'd moved so close that his lips brushed her temple. The c
ontact was like an electrical charge surging through her, but it didn't seem to affect Karr at all. He gave her a slow, sultry smile, and his fingertips started to draw slow, hypnotic circles on her upper arm. It was the first time Maggie had ever suspected that particular spot could be a sensual zone.

  The man was incorrigible. It was clear that the sooner she put a stop to all this the better off she'd be.

  And she'd do exactly that, she told herself. But not right now.

  The next morning Libby stopped by with a suitcase. "I figured you'd want mostly casual things," she said. "But I couldn't find much. Do you realize how few of your clothes will fit over a cast?"

  Maggie sighed. "I suppose I'll have to buy a whole new wardrobe. Of course, I could just charge it to Karr. He owes me." She recalled, a second too late, that Brenda was in the room, and shot a glance at her.

  "He'd probably pay it," Brenda said calmly, and went on unpacking the suitcase, laying sweat suits neatly in drawers. "Ever since he called you one night while he was here, I've been dying to meet you."

  So it was his mother he'd been sharing that steak with.

  "I've never heard Karr sound as he does when he talks to you, Maggie."

  Libby asked brightly, "Oh, really?"

  "Yes. There's a caressing note in his voice which I find quite amusing. And his behavior…"

  Maggie sighed. At least she could tell Karr that his campaign had been successful, so he could cut it out.

  Libby sounded intrigued. "Now that's fascinating. The girls in the office said—"

  Maggie didn't want to hear it, and she'd rather not give Brenda any more ideas. She said firmly, "You'll water my plants, won't you, Libby?"

  Libby stared at her for a moment and then took the hint with grace. "Of course. In fact, I've already moved them to my house, because it looks as if I'll be too busy to run out to Eagle's Landing. Not that I won't be spending some time there—"

  "Selling townhouses," Maggie said flatly.

  "No, it's going to be condos, instead. As soon as the site plans are finished, we can start advance sales. Actually, I can't begin just yet, because I've got a lot of studying and tests to get through before I can be licensed. But in the meantime I can help in the office. And even if I'm only typing contracts, I'll be learning." Libby jumped up. "Listen to me. I'd better get busy. Have you finished that list of what you want me to bring?"