***
When Mitch saw Laura and her entourage to the side of the airline counter, his body tensed. The one-piece turquoise jump suit fit her curves like it had been sewn on. It wasn't tight, but it clung to all her dips and bends. And that hair--loose, fluffy, damnably sexy. What would a handful feel like? Smell like? It hid her face as she bent to talk to Mandy.
Guilt stabbed Mitch. He'd been unreasonably sharp with Laura yesterday. He hadn't slept well since Wednesday because he'd been so damned worried about Ray. But that was no excuse. He had no right to condemn Laura, despite his reservations about her character.
Glancing at the group again, he supposed the dark-haired woman with George was Anne. What was their connection to Laura? Were they a couple? Or were George and Laura involved?
Mitch strode toward them, not liking George's proprietary air with Laura but not taking time to analyze why. He sighed. Laura. She was going to be difficult all the way. He should have expected it. When he phoned her this morning to tell her he'd pick her up, she coolly informed him she'd meet him at the airport. It would have been more practical for them to drive into Cleveland together, but at this point he didn't care.
Her history reminded him so much of his brother Carey's. Listening to the stories Ray had told, Mitch had assumed Carey and Laura were two of a kind. If she was as unreliable and headstrong, he just wanted to get her to York for Ray's sake, then send her back to Independence before she caused trouble.
Ray had said she'd been spoiled and wild. Mitch couldn't understand the idea of any child throwing away a father's love, wealth, and a stable future. Laura had been foolish and irrational. Mitch hoped she cared about Ray enough to put him first this time.
Mitch reached the group and Laura introduced Anne.
Mitch nodded. "I'm glad you're on time."
Laura took her poncho in multi shades of rose from George's arm. "Punctuality's one of my virtues."
Mitch stifled the urge to ask if she had any others and directed his attention to Mandy. A streak on her cheek looked like the path of tears. His insides tightened. He hated the thought of a child feeling sad or hurt.
He crouched down to meet her at eye level. "Are you ready to fly?"
"Puffball's lonely. She can't ride with me. We had to give her to a lady."
He addressed Laura. "Do you want me to see what I can do? It's a short flight. Maybe they'd let her--"
With a warning look, Laura shook her head. "This flight is too booked for Puffball to stay with us. I showed Mandy the hands on my watch and she understands when she'll see Puffball again."
"Mommy says people ride with people and cats ride with cats."
Evidently Laura had settled the matter with Mandy. Mitch didn't want to upset the balance. He stood.
Anne said to Mandy, "Let's visit the ladies' room one last time." She took the child's hand and led her away.
George mumbled, "I'll get her a candy bar to take along," and headed toward a group of vending machines.
Laura smiled. "I guess they thought we might want to talk. I hope I prepared Mandy for everything on the drive here. She asks so many questions. Is there anything I should know that she shouldn't hear?"
He wondered if the reason Laura hadn't wanted to ride with him was really to allow her to answer her daughter's questions in private. "It's hard to believe she was ever withdrawn. She's such a bubbly child."
"When Doug died, she cried constantly. She stopped talking. She wouldn't eat. I'd lost him. I was afraid I'd lose her."
Mitch tried to hold himself aloof from the pain in Laura's eyes. But he couldn't. It touched an empty part of him, a part his father had damaged long ago. "What did you do?"
"I held her, talked to her about Doug, took her for walks. George bought Puffball and after that she perked up."
"You knew George then?"
"He worked with Doug."
Had she been involved with many men since her husband died? According to her father, in her teens she had gone through boyfriends like milkshakes. It didn't matter. It wasn't his business.
Laura touched his arm. "So is there anything I should know before we arrive in York?"
Her fingers seemed to scorch him through his suitcoat. "Just that I don't want Ray to get upset. You're there to reassure him, not to make his blood pressure soar," Mitch said more tersely than he'd intended.
She looked horrified and snatched her hand back. "I would never do that."
He could still feel the imprint of her fingers. "I'm just concerned for Ray's health."
Her chin tilted up mutinously. "Look. I don't know what kind of person you think I am, but I wouldn't do anything to hurt my father. I'm making this trip to see him through his surgery. You and I don't have to be friends, but at least we can try to have an...amiable relationship."
He'd get along with Laura for Ray's sake. "Amiability's not a problem."
"I guess you'll have to prove that, won't you, Mr. Riley? Your amiability hasn't been excessive since you barged into my life yesterday."
He glanced at her speculatively and wondered exactly what would happen if they became...amiable. Since yesterday, erotic thoughts were becoming a habit. He'd just have to wipe them out of his head.
After hugs all around for Anne and George, After going through security, Laura helped Mandy put her shoes back on. Her touch was gentle and caring with her daughter. She seemed like a good mom. He supposed in the days to follow he'd find out.
When boarding began, Mandy jumped up and down with excitement, tugged on Laura's arm, and pointed to a baby, to the waiting airplane, to the TV running a cable news program. She was fascinated by every detail of the airplane and asked innumerable questions, some of which Laura couldn't answer but Mitch could.
Laura seemed to notice everything about Mitch Riley. Nothing ruffled him...not waiting...now Mandy's questions...not other passengers bumping through the aisles. During his visit to their house, she'd classified him as cultured, aggressive but reserved. He held onto his opinions and emotions with tight control. She recognized those qualities because she was so different--the opposite, really. She said what she thought, she played with the moment, she let her feelings show much too easily.
She could understand why her father had chosen Mitch as a partner. They were very much alike. Except... Besides Mitch's outward attractiveness, something inside him called out to her. Was her woman's intuition working overtime? Probably more like her imagination, she thought with chagrin. Whatever it was, she shoved it aside. Mitch was simply someone she had to contend with while she was in York.
York. Where her mother had died, where her father had shut her out, where love had become an ultimatum. Her feelings for her father were confused. Part of her still loved him. But part of her still hurt too, even after six years.
Finally they were seated. Mandy held on to her hand during the ride down the runway, during the take-off. The awed expression on her face was priceless. They'd been cruising a little while when Mitch shifted in his seat to find an easier position for his long legs. His shoulder bumped hers. She was entirely too aware of the bulk of him, the cut of his expensive suit, the aura of pure masculinity that surrounded him.
"Being short has its advantages," she quipped as he finally settled his right foot under the seat in front of him.
He grimaced. "They should have short and tall sections."
She laughed. He smiled back. Ah hah. He could be friendly. She gestured toward the science fiction novel he'd taken from his duffel. "Is that any good?"
"It's intriguing." He nodded to Mandy looking out the window rather than using the crayons and coloring book on the tray in front of her. "But sometimes I'm more fascinated by the view. It stirs my imagination."
What did he do with his imagination after it was stirred? "When I was a little girl, I saw pink castles behind every cloud."
"You lived in a house large enough to be a castle."
She stared at his long black lashes rather than into his probing eye
s. She knew nothing about him. He seemed to know a lot about her. "Oh, but it didn't have turrets or moats. And in my castles only happy things happened."
"We learn too soon life isn't like that. Maybe reading kids fairytales is a bad idea. It sets them up for disappointment."
There it was again. The sad note that drew her, made her want to touch him to give him solace. She tapped his book. "Adults need escape. Children need it more."
His blue eyes were penetrating. "But I know the difference between fantasy and reality. They don't."
"That's a parent's job--to kindly teach the difference."
Mitch thought about her reply, then glanced at Mandy. "Are you going to take her to see Ray? We can probably get special permission."
"No."
Mitch's jaw tensed into a stiff line. "Why not?"
She'd met fire with fire before, but with Mitch it seemed she was doing it every other sentence. "If he's in critical care, he's hooked up to monitors, an IV. Right?"
"Yes. Oxygen, too."
"I won't scare her like that. She gets nightmares from watching monster cartoons."
Mitch twisted in his seat to face her more directly. "He's her grandfather. He needs to see her. It might make a difference."
He couldn't make her squirm or back down. "After surgery will be soon enough."
"And what if he doesn't make it?"
"I won't think that way."
He grunted. "Isn't that a naive attitude?"
"It's an optimistic attitude. The last time I saw my father, he wasn't overweight, he didn't smoke, and he drank on a few social occasions. Has any of that changed?"
"He's not careful about what he eats. He fired his cook last year so he eats out a lot."
Mitch's reply was quick. He knew her father's habits well. How much time did he spend with him? Why did it matter? Was she jealous? No. Simply curious. "Does he have a housekeeper?"
"A cleaning lady comes twice a week."
"I'll have to hire someone. He'll need help when he comes home."
"We could take care of him."
She wondered if Mitch had seriously considered that option. If he cared about her father enough to take care of him, he must love him. "Dad doesn't even know I'm coming. He might want me to turn right around and go back if our last encounter is any indication. Besides, if you took care of him, the business would suffer, wouldn't it?"
Mitch hooked onto the first part of her response. "And if he doesn't want you to turn around?"
"I have two weeks. After that, I go back to my life in Independence."
"And George?"
The look in Mitch's eyes said he thought she was a callous, ungrateful child. But she couldn't expect her father to be any different today than he was six years ago. Now, her independence not only directed her life, but Mandy's too.
Her head bobbed up. "Yes. And Anne." Laura suddenly thought of a glitch. "Are you going to stay with Mandy while I see Dad?"
He shook his head vigorously. "You can't walk in there unannounced. You'll shock the sheets off of him. I need to prepare him."
"But I can't take Mandy--"
"My mother will stay with her."
Mitch's unilateral decision reminded her of her father's rules and regulations, curfews and standards. "I don't want to leave her with a stranger."
"We can only see Ray for twenty minutes. You won't be away from her that long."
Laura had always been so careful to consider Mandy's needs first, but Mitch made sense. She remembered the last time she'd put her daughter's need before her husband's wants. They'd argued. He'd gone sailing...
A flight attendant asked if they'd like anything to drink. Mandy asked for a soda, her eyes wide and pleading. "Please?"
Mitch chuckled. "Who can say 'no' to that face?"
Laura sighed. "Okay, honey. This time."
After the attendant served them, Mitch touched Laura's hand. "Don't worry about Mandy staying with Mom. She loves kids."
His fingers on the top of her hand sent heat up her arm. Her eyes met his in surprise, and she witnessed his own flash of sexual awareness. He jerked his hand away and picked up his drink.
"Mr. Riley's drinking cola too," Mandy piped up, easing the sudden tension.
"I'm surprised you didn't order something stronger," Laura remarked, wondering out loud. He seemed like a Scotch man to her, like her dad.
"A glass of wine with dinner is as strong as it gets."
"Why?" She peered at him over the rim of her glass.
His eyes darkened with a deep emotion. "I have my reasons."
Did his reasons have something to do with the sadness in him? "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."
Mitch said quietly, "Alcohol killed my father."
She wanted to stroke his cheek, the one with the scar, and comfort him. But she wasn't that foolish. She glanced at Mandy as her daughter picked up a crayon and colored an elephant blue.
Laura's mother had died when she was eleven. "I know how it feels to lose a parent."
"But I don't know how it feels to walk out on one."
Laura took a sip of her soda to stall her temper. "Maybe you don't know the whole story."
"I know Ray Applegate is a good man. He didn't deserve the kick in the teeth you delivered. I met him five years ago and he was the saddest man I've ever seen. Even though you created chaos when you were around, you were his life. You walked away and left him with nothing."
Over and over again, she'd analyzed what she could have done differently. She regretted her wild behavior as a teenager. That had changed when she'd gone to school at eighteen. She'd found her purpose and her niche. At twenty she'd known exactly what she wanted. But her father couldn't accept her independence or her making her own decisions and choices. He'd erased her from his life and wouldn't answer her letters.
Laura angrily tapped the ice cube in her glass, making it spin. "My father is a traditional, strict, inflexible man."
Mitch lowered his voice. "That doesn't mean you had to cut him out of your life. Do you know the joy Mandy could give him?"
She met his gaze boldly. "I don't have to defend myself to you or anyone. I stopped doing that when I grew up."
"I'm not sure you're there yet," he muttered.
"Do you have a patent on maturity? You know how it's done right?"
"I know by your age it should be done."
"You don't know me, Mr. Riley."
He raised his glass to her in a toast. "Maybe we'll have to rectify that."
The gleam in his eye said he didn't want to know her at all, but he'd play with the pretense so he could keep her under his thumb.
CHAPTER TWO
The lump in Laura's throat wouldn't disappear with any amount of swallowing. Mandy clutched her mother's hand as they walked up the brick path to the front door of her childhood home and Puffball meowed from her carrier. Laura paused in front of the double cherry door that was only one of many entrances into the Old English style estate. She'd always loved the Tudor house with its multi-colored stone, gables, and chocolate brown shutters. Her grandfather had built it for her grandmother.
Memories flooded through her mind faster than she could count them. She'd spent twenty years in this house. So why did she feel like such a stranger to it now? The answer was simple. She'd left this life behind six years ago.
Mandy must have sensed something. "What's wrong, Mommy?"
Laura shrugged off her melancholy. "Nothing, honey. This is where I grew up. I'm wondering if you'll like the house as much as I did."
Mitch came up behind them with their suitcases. He set them down and unlocked the door.
"How long have you had a key?" Her father had never given a key to anyone not in the family. She'd brought hers along for that reason.
Mitch picked up the suitcases and looked at her intently. "Since Ray and I became partners and we opened the second store in Harrisburg. I have an apartment there, but I stay here when I'm in town."
Her father an
d Mitch were definitely more like father and son than business partners. "You don't stay with your mother?"
Mitch crossed the threshold into the foyer and waited until she and Mandy stepped inside before answering. "She lives in a one bedroom apartment. It's easier and more convenient for me to stay here." As if he felt he should explain further, he added, "I'm a night owl. When I stay with her and work late, she waits up or hovers. She loses sleep. I don't get the work done. Your father goes his way, I go mine, and we don't interfere with each other."
Laura set the cat carrier on the floor. At one point in her life she'd desperately wanted her father to interfere, to show her he loved her. But when she'd asserted her freedom to become an adult, he'd interfered in the wrong way--not out of love, but because he'd wanted her to fulfill his dreams for her. He'd tried to manipulate her.
A bit wistfully, she said, "It sounds as if you and Dad get along well together."
Mitch studied her carefully. "We do."
His tone carried a warning that she'd better not try to meddle. Impatient with his "I'm in control" attitude, she walked into the living room. The marble fireplace, the rose Queen Anne chairs, and the Stiffel lamps were arranged exactly as she remembered them...as if no time had passed at all. Through the living room's French doors, she could see the dining room with its crystal chandelier and mahogany table. Mirroring light from the adjacent sunroom's stately paned windows, the gloss on the table was still unmarred and perfect.
Whenever they ate at that table, Laura feared she'd spill her milk or hurt the finish in some way. Her mother had always acted as a buffer between her and her dad, convincing him to treat Laura as a child rather than a small adult.
Mandy let go of Laura's hand and released Puffball from her carrier. The cat sniffed the new atmosphere, then regally strolled toward the sunroom with its rattan furniture and bright yellow striped cushions. Mandy ran after her.
Mitch said, "I'll take your suitcases up to your rooms later. I'd better go get Puffball a litter box and food and pick Mom up so we can get to the hospital."
Mitch had called his mother from the airport and she'd agreed to stay with Mandy. He'd also called the hospital to find that Ray was still stable.
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