by Linda Turner
“If he did, all he saw was the two of us going to Disneyland in the limo.”
“The driver was able to drop you at the front gate without any problems? What about Tammy?” she asked, referring to Laura’s sister, Tammy, who had worked at the park for years. “Did she have any trouble getting you in?”
All too aware of the terror that Angel had lived in for the past few months, Laura sympathized with her fear of something going wrong. “Everything went like clockwork,” she reassured her. “Tammy was waiting for us and already had our entrance passes. If your stalker was following us, he got held up at the regular ticket booth and had to stand in line just like everybody else. By the time he paid and got in the park, we’d already left through a fire exit in the Fantasyland section, where another limo was waiting for us.”
Her gray eyes lighting on Emma, who had found the porch swing on the front porch and was swinging her menagerie of toys, she laughed softly. “For a minute there, though, I was sure we were toast. I warned Emma we were just going to take a quick walk through the park, that we’d come back another time and stay the whole day. I thought she understood she wasn’t going to get to ride any rides. Boy, was I wrong! When she realized we were leaving, she let out a cry that could have been heard on the other side of the park. I thought security was going to stop me for child abuse.”
“Oh, Laura, she didn’t!”
Chuckling, she said, “Oh, yes, she did. Luckily, we were only two steps from the fire exit when she started pitching a fit. I scooped her up, dropped her into the limo, and we took off for the airport. She finally calmed down when I reminded her that we were going to be staying on a ranch with you and she might get to ride a pony.”
It was a logical promise to make to a child, but one Angel wasn’t sure they could deliver on. “That could be a problem,” she said with a grimace. “I didn’t tell the man we’re staying with—Joe McBride—that you were coming. He’s not going to be happy about it.”
“Oh, Angel, you didn’t! Why?”
“Because he doesn’t even want me here. He’s divorced and has nothing good to say about women. If I’d told him my daughter and her nanny were going to be joining me, he’d have tossed me out on my ear.”
“But he can still do that. Then what are we going to do?”
“He won’t,” Angel assured her, love misting her eyes as they rested on her daughter. “Not after he sees Emma. He may be a hard man, but he’s not cruel. He would never turn his back on a child in trouble.” Not if he was the man she thought he was.
Praying she hadn’t misjudged him, she flashed a confident smile. “It’s all going to work out fine. Let’s get your things out of the car and get you two settled inside. If we’re going to keep the peace with Joe, there’s a schedule you need to know about.”
He hadn’t been able to think of anything but her all day. The feel of her in his arms the other night. The quick, infuriating spurt of jealousy that hit him when he found her locked in Garrett Elliot’s arms on the set. The rage that washed over him when he saw the relief and revulsion she hadn’t quite been able to hide when the director called “Cut!” and she could finally step away from her costar. He’d wanted to flatten Elliot then. And carry Angel off somewhere where no one could ever touch her again.
She had him tied in knots—because of a kiss that never should have happened, dammit!—and he didn’t like it. She was a boarder in his home, nothing more, and had no right to push her way into his thoughts whenever the mood struck her. He didn’t want to care what she did or who she did it with as long as she left him the hell alone. But he couldn’t shake the image of her face when she’d pulled out of Elliot’s arms. What had the bastard done to her?
The question nagged at him long after he left the set to repair a downed fence near the ranch entrance that some drunk had knocked down, and the more he thought about it, the more tempted he was to hunt down Elliot and demand some answers from the jerk. When he saw the crew leaving at the end of the day, he climbed into his pickup and automatically turned toward town…and Myrtle’s, to talk to the jackass.
Suddenly realizing what he was doing, he swore and slammed on his brakes. What the hell was he doing? Angel Wiley didn’t need him to fight her battles. In fact, he’d never seen a woman less in need of protection. If she could stand up to him when he’d threatened to throw her out of his house and try to bash his head in when she thought he was a thief in the night, she could handle Elliot with one hand tied behind her back. She didn’t need him, she didn’t need anyone.
Turning around, he drove home in a foul mood that didn’t lighten much when he saw Zeke’s Suburban in his driveway. He was in no mood for company, but then he saw Elizabeth and his niece, Cassie, in the vehicle, and waved. “What’s up?” he asked his brother as Zeke stepped from his Suburban.
Zeke took one look at the hard line of his jaw and said, “Uh-oh, rough day, huh? We dropped by for Cassie’s bed, but we can get it tomorrow.”
Cassie let out a wail from inside the truck at that, and Joe couldn’t help but grin. One of the few people who could tease him into a smile when he was in a bear of a mood, Cassendra Ann McBride was two years old and dimple cute, not to mention just a tad willful. And he was crazy about her. When she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a baby soft kiss, he just turned to putty and so did everyone else in the family.
Humor glinting in his eyes, he told Zeke, “You don’t really think you’re going to be able to leave here without it, do you?”
“Pweeze, Uncle Joe,” a pitiful voice called from the back seat. “Can I have my bed?”
Seated in the front passenger seat, Elizabeth laughed. “Don’t let her con you, Joe. She can sleep in her old crib one more night if you don’t want to mess with this now.”
“Mama!”
“And disappoint my favorite niece?” he said, chuckling at Cassie’s indignant tone. “I don’t think so.” Opening the back door, he unbuckled her car seat and held out his hands to her. “How about a piggyback ride to the barn, your highness?” With a squeal of delight, she launched herself into his arms.
Cassie was delighted with her first big girl bed, and Elizabeth was thrilled. “It’s beautiful, Joe. Just perfect. Where in the world did you find it?”
“It belonged to an old friend of Myrtle’s in Gunnison,” he said as he helped Zeke carry the refinished bed out to the Suburban and load it in the back. “Myrtle’s been trying to buy it off of her for years, but she couldn’t bring herself to let it go, then a couple of weeks ago, she suddenly decided it was time to get rid of it. The second Myrtle described it to me, with the angels on it and everything, I knew it was perfect for Cassie.”
“It’s going to take more than a couple of wooden angels to watch over her,” Zeke retorted, grinning broadly. “Last night after I put her to bed, I heard a noise in the hall and found her trying to slide down the banister. If she’d have been a couple of inches taller, she’d have managed it, too! I’m telling you, the kid’s fearless. I don’t know where she gets it from.”
Joe choked on a laugh. “Are you kidding?! If I remember correctly, you were climbing on calves, trying to be a bronc rider, when you were three, and you jumped out of the hayloft when you were five and broke your arm. And Lizzie works with wolves, for God’s sake! Where do you think she gets it from?”
“He’s got a point, sweetheart,” Elizabeth said dryly, her blue eyes sparkling with laughter. “You might as well face it, she’s going to make both of us gray before our time.”
Zeke groaned. “Maybe should lock her in her room until she’s thirty-five,” he began, only to break off as Angel came around the side of the house with an older woman and a little girl who wasn’t much bigger than Cassie. “Looks like your houseguest has company,” he told Joe quietly, glancing past him to the two women.
Surprised, Joe turned just as the two little girls spied each other. Cassie immediately took a step toward the newcomers, only to remember at the last moment that s
he wasn’t supposed to speak to strangers. Hesitating, she glanced up at her parents and silently asked permission to make a new friend.
Pleased, Elizabeth smiled. “It’s okay. Go ahead.”
She didn’t have to tell her twice. Cassie took off like a shot, as did the other little girl, and the adults were left to follow.
Angel watched Joe and the couple with him draw near and wanted to sink right through the ground. Too late, she questioned the wisdom of not telling him in advance that he was about to have two more houseguests. She’d thought it was for the best at the time she’d made the decision, but now, she realized it was outrageously rude. And there was nothing she could do about it but smile and make the introductions in front of strangers.
Tension knotting her stomach, she said stiffly, “Joe, this is my daughter, Emma, and her nanny, Laura Carson. Laura, this is Joe McBride, our host.”
Our host. Not a slow man, there was no doubt that he caught that little tidbit of information. His eyes narrowed on her dangerously, promising her she had some serious explaining to do, but before he could say so much as a word, Laura held out her hand to him and gave him her calm, unruffled smile.
“You have a beautiful place here, Mr. McBride. I hope you don’t mind us showing up on your doorstep unannounced.”
Considering her own rude behavior, Angel wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d been less than gracious, but he shook Laura’s hand politely and said coolly, “I’m getting used to it. Ms. Wiley likes to surprise me.”
He introduced both women to his brother and sister-in-law, who, unlike Joe, seemed delighted with the turn of events. Grinning broadly, Zeke told Angel, “Personally, I think it’s great. He’s alone too much, and all he does is work. A few surprises is just what a man needs to make life interesting again. Don’t you think so, Joe?”
Biting back a smile when her brother-in-law just glared at Zeke, Elizabeth shot her husband a reproving look. “Behave yourself. Joe’s content with his life or he’d change it.” Turning her back on the two men, she drew Angel’s attention to where Cassie and Emma were playing on the porch. “It looks like our daughters have made friends,” she said with a smile. “I hope you’ll let Emma come to the house someday and play. You and Laura are welcome, too, of course,” she added quickly. “We just live another five miles down the road. Joe can give you directions.”
If anyone in L.A. had issued such an invitation, Angel would have immediately suspected that they were using her daughter to get to her. But Elizabeth McBride had a look of pure love on her face when she looked at her daughter, and there wasn’t a doubt in Angel’s mind that she’d only thought of her as Emma’s mom, not Angel Wiley the movie star, when she invited her over. She wanted a playmate for her daughter, nothing more, and had no idea how rare that was in Angel’s world.
“I’d like that,” she said softly. “I’ll give you a call the next time I have an afternoon off.”
“Good. We can visit while the kids play.”
Angel would have enjoyed visiting with her more right then, but it was getting late, and she had Emma to get settled and lines to study before she could call it a day. “I hate to break this up, but it’s getting late and Emma’s had a long day. She needs her bath and some time to get used to everything before I put her to bed.”
Understanding all too well, Elizabeth didn’t have a problem with that. “And we’ve still got to put Cassie’s bed together tonight or we’ll never hear the end of it. She’s been talking all day about sleeping in the bed Uncle Joe bought for her.”
Within moments, the children were rounded up, good-nights were said, and Zeke and Elizabeth were backing out of the driveway with a yawning Cassie strapped into her car seat in the back seat. Seeing the look of grim resolve on Joe’s unsmiling face, Laura quickly hustled Emma inside with the announcement, “Emma and I will start unpacking our things.” And all too soon, Angel found herself alone with Joe.
He was, she knew, going to rake her over the coals and she couldn’t say she blamed him. After the hospitality he’d given her, keeping him in the dark about Emma and Laura was inexcusable. “I apologize for springing Emma and Laura on you with no warning,” she said before he could tell her they would have to start looking for somewhere else to live in the morning. “You have every right to be angry. I should have told you. But the timing never seemed appropriate and you weren’t exactly approachable. You didn’t want me here—you still don’t. If you didn’t have a contract with the studio, I wouldn’t be here now.”
He didn’t deny it. “I don’t like being tricked.”
“I can understand that,” she replied. “If it’s any consolation, the switch with Garrett had nothing to do with you personally. I just needed somewhere more private to stay than Myrtle’s.” And safer—but that wasn’t something she could tell him when she was already skating on thin ice. If he knew that she was hiding from a monster who would in all likelihood follow her to the ranch and cause trouble, she wouldn’t blame him for throwing her out. He had a family of his own—a niece who wasn’t even as old as Emma—to protect.
“I realize that your contract with the studio is for only one person,” she continued, “but I hope you’ll overlook that and let the three of us stay. I know Emma can be a handful—what three-year-old isn’t?—but if you’re worried about her taking over the house and driving you crazy, don’t be. Laura and I will pick up after her, and I’ll do everything I can to see that she stays out of your way.”
Far from impressed, Joe just stared at her. He wasn’t worried about Emma—she was a cute little thing, and he liked kids. He’d never take his irritation with her mother out on her. Angel, however, was another matter. She might have stuck to the rules he’d laid down the day she moved in, but his opinion of her hadn’t changed one iota. She was a star, pampered and spoiled and carted around on a feather pillow by the studio. She had a car, but as far as he knew, she hadn’t driven it since the day she moved in. Why should she when she had a limo to pick her up every day and take her anywhere she wanted to go?
And she wanted him to believe she would pick up after her daughter and see to her needs? he thought with a snort. Yeah, right. The woman didn’t even do her own nails. If the truth was told, it was the nanny, not Angel, who would be doing all the work.
That, however, was none of his business as long as she stuck to the original rules of their agreement. He wouldn’t, of course, ever throw her and her daughter and Laura out—he wasn’t that kind of man. But that was something he had no intention of telling her. Not when she already thought she only had to crook her finger and smile to have the rest of the world fall at her feet.
“You stick to your end of the deal, and I have no complaint,” he said curtly.
Expecting a simple thank-you, he was surprised when a relief completely out of proportion to the situation flared in her eyes. Confused, he frowned, his eyes searching hers, but in the time it took to blink, her expression was free of any emotion but appreciation. “Thank you,” she said huskily. “You won’t regret this.”
He regretted it the minute she hurried into the house, then later still, when he was in his study working and feminine laughter drifted down the stairs from the bathroom upstairs as Angel bathed Emma. Focusing on trying to balance the ranch books, he deliberately ignored the sound and added a column of numbers for the third time. And for the third time, he came up with a different total.
“Damn!” Scowling, he started over again, this time determined to get it right, but he couldn’t concentrate for the sound of water splashing upstairs and childish giggles that made him want to smile. He found himself listening for Angel’s laughter as she murmured to her daughter, and that only irritated him all the more.
“She’s doing this for your benefit,” he muttered to himself. “She wants you to think that she takes care of Emma just like any other mother. So why does she have a nanny, huh? She’s a movie star, for God’s sakes! She doesn’t have time to take care of a three-year-old. Poor Emm
a’s probably lucky if she gets home in time at night to tuck her in.”
But even as he grumbled to himself, poor Emma didn’t sound like a child who’d had little or nothing to do with her mother. She laughed and played with her, and from the sound of a sudden laughing shriek from her mother, felt comfortable enough with her to douse her with bathwater. There was no question that they shared a deep love for each other.
And that didn’t fit at all with his image of Angel Wiley.
Not liking the direction his thoughts were taking, he scowled and told himself not to be taken in by the woman. So she wasn’t completely self-centered—she had a loving relationship with her daughter. That didn’t make her a saint by a long shot. She was still spoiled and demanding and stubbornly determined to have things her way, come hell or high water.
So if he knew that, why the devil did he still have this crazy need to kiss her again?
He’d been working too hard, he told himself desperately, glaring at the paperwork that littered his desk. That was the only explanation. Maybe it was time he got away from everything for a while, took a weekend off and went backpacking up in the mountains. He needed some time to himself to get his head on straight, to—
A sound behind him had him pivoting in his office chair to find Emma standing in the doorway and dressed for bed in baby-doll pajamas. Her golden curls were still damp and fell in ringlets around her face, her rounded cheeks pink from the warmth of her bath. She grinned at him like they were coconspirators, and it was easy to see that the little imp was going to be a heartbreaker when she grew up.
Not the least bit shy, she announced, “I’m s’posed to go to bed. Mommy said so. But I want to play a game on the ’puter.”
Joe’s mouth curled into a grin. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t have any games on my computer. I only use it for work. But I’ve got some candy. Will your mother mind if you have some before you go to bed?”