Неизвестно - Megans mate

Hey, ain't none of my never-mind if you want to land yourself a rich fish.

She squeaked. Though the rolling temper that caused red dots to swim in front of her eyes appalled her she. was, after all, a civilized woman she surged forward to ram a coral-tipped nail into his massive chest.

I will not tolerate any more of your insults.

Yeah?

He poked her right back.

Whatcha gonna do about it?

She leaned forward until they were nose-to-nose.

I will fire you.

Now that'll break my heart. Go ahead, fancy face, give me the boot. See how you get by with tonight's dinner rush.

I assure you, I will 'get by' delightfully.

Her heart was beating too fast. Coco wondered it didn't soar right out of her breast.

Like hell.

He hated her perfume. Hated that it made his nostrils twitch and his

mouth water.

When I came on board, you were barely treading water.

She couldn't get her breath, simply couldn't.

This kitchen doesn't need you, Mr.

Van Horne. And neither do I.

You need me plenty.

How had his hands gotten onto her shoulders? Why were hers pressed to his chest? The hell with how or why, he thought. He'd show her what was what.

Her eyes popped hard when his hard, sneering mouth crushed down on hers in a very thorough kiss. But she didn't see a thing. Her world, so beautifully secure, tilted under her feet. That was why naturally that was why she clung to him.

She would slap his face. She certainly would.

In just a few minutes.

Damn women, Dutch thought. Damn them all. Especially tall, curvy, sweet-smelling females with lips like... cooking cherries. He'd always had a weakness for tartness.

He jerked her away, but kept his big hands firm on her shoulders.

Let's get

something straight....

he began.

Now look here___

she said at the same time.

They both leaped apart like guilty children when the kitchen door swung open.

Megan stood frozen in the doorway, her jaw dropping. Surely she hadn't seen what she thought she'd seen. Coco was checking the oven, and Dutch was measuring flour into a bowl. They couldn't have been.. .embracing. Yet both of them were a rather startling shade of pink.

Excuse me,

she managed.

I'm sorry to, ah...

Oh, Megan, dear.

Flustered, Coco patted her hair. She was tingling, she realized.

From embarrassment and annoyance, she assured herself.

What can I do for

you?

I just wanted to check a couple of the kitchen expenses.

She was still goggling, her

eyes shifting from Coco to Dutch and back. The tension in the room was thicker than Coco's split-pea soup.

But if you're busy, we can do it later.

Nonsense.

Coco wiped her sweaty palms on her apron.

We're just a little frantic

preparing for Trenton's arrival.

Trenton? Oh, I'd forgotten. Trent's father's expected.

She was cautiously backing

out of the room.

We don't need to do this now.

No, no.

Oh, Lord, Coco thought, don't leave me.

Now's a perfect time. We're

under control here. Let's do it in your office, shall we?

She took Megan firmly by

the arm.

Mr. Van Horne can handle things for a few minutes.

Without waiting for

his assent, she hurried from the room.

Details, details,

Coco said gaily, and clung

to Megan as though she were a life raft in a churning sea.

It seems the more you

handle, the more there are.

Coco, are you all right?

Oh, of course.

But she pressed a hand to her heart.

Just a little contretemps with

Mr. Van Horne. But that's nothing I can't deal with.

She hoped.

How are your

accounts coming along, dear? I must say I'd hoped you'd find time to glance at Fergus's book.

Actually, I have—

Not that we want you working too hard.

With the buzz going on in Coco's head, she didn't hear a word Megan said.

We want you to feel right at home here, to enjoy yourself. To relax. After all the trouble and excitement last year, we all want to relax. I don't think any of us could stand any more crises.

I do not have, nor do I require, a reservation.

The crackling, irate voice stopped Coco in her tracks. The becoming flush in her cheeks faded to a dead white.

Dear God, no. It can't be.

Coco?

Megan took a firmer grip on Coco's arm. She felt the tremor and wondered if she could hold the woman up if she fainted.

Young man.

The voice rose, echoing off the walls.

Do you know who I am?

Aunt Colleen,

Coco said in a shaky whisper. She let go one last shuddering moan, drew in a bracing breath, then walked bravely into the lobby.

Aunt Colleen,

she

said in an entirely different tone.

What a lovely surprise.

Shock, you mean.

Colleen accepted her niece's kiss, then rapped her cane on the floor. She was tall, thin as a rail and formidable as iron in a raw-silk suit and pearls as white as her hair.

I see you've filled the place with strangers. Better to have it burned to the ground. Tell this insolent boy to have my bags taken up.

Of course.

Coco gestured for a bellman herself.

In the family wing, second floor,

first room on the right,

she instructed.

And don't toss those bags around, boy.

Colleen leaned on her gold-tipped cane and studied Megan,

Who's this?

You remember Megan, Aunt Colleen. Sloan's sister? You met at Amanda's wedding.

Yes, yes.

Colleen's eyes narrowed, measured,

Got a son, don't you?

Colleen

knew all there was to know about Kevin. Had made it her business to know.

Yes, I do. It's nice to see you again, Miss Calhoun.

Ha. You'd be the only one of this lot who thinks so.

Ignoring them both, she

walked to Bianca's portrait, studied it and the emeralds glistening in their case. She sighed, but so quietly no one could hear.

I want brandy, Cordelia, before I take a look at what you've done to this place.

Of course. We'll just go into the family wing. Megan, please, join us.

It was impossible to deny the plea in Coco's eyes.

A few moments later, they had settled into the family parlor. Here, the wallpaper was still faded, peeling in spots. There were scars on the floor in front of the fireplace where errant embers had seared and burned.

Nothing's changed here, I see.

Colleen sat like a queen in a wing chair.

We've concentrated on the hotel wing.

Nervous and babbling, Coco poured

brandy.

Now that it's done, we're beginning renovations. Two of the bedrooms are finished. And the nursery's lovely.

Humph.

She'd come specifically to see the children and only secondarily to drive Coco mad.

Where is everyone? I come to see my family and find nothing but strangers.

They'll be along. We're having a dinner party tonight, Aunt Colleen.

Coco kept the

brilliant smile plastered on her face.

Trent's father's joining us for a few days.

Aging playboy,

Colleen mumbled into her brandy.

You.

She pointed at Megan.

Accountant, aren't you?

Yes, ma'am.

Megan's a whiz with figures,

Coco said desperately.

We're so grateful she's here.

And Kevin, too, of course. He's a darling boy.

I'm talking to the girl, Cordelia. Go fuss in the kitchen.

But—

Go on, go on.

With an apologetic look for Megan, Coco fled.

The boy'll be nine soon?

Yes, in a couple of months.

She was prepared, braced, for a scathing comment on his lineage.

Tapping her fingers on the arm of the chair, Colleen nodded.

Get along with

Suzanna's brood, does he?

Very well. They've rarely been apart since we arrived.

Megan did her best not to

squirm.

It's been wonderful for him. And for me.

Dumont bothering you?

Megan blinked.

I beg your pardon?

Don't be a fool, girl, I asked if that excuse for a human being has been bothering you.

Megan's spine straightened like a steel rod.

No. I haven't seen or heard from Baxter since before Kevin was born.

You will.

Colken scowled and leaned forward. She wanted to get a handle on this

Megan O'Riley.

He's been making inquiries.

Megan's fingers clenched on the snifter of brandy.

I don't understand.

Poking his nose in, asking questions.

Colleen gave her cane an imperious thump.

How do you know?

I keep my ear to the ground when it comes to family.

Eyes bright, Colleen waited

for a reaction, got none.

You moved here, didn't you? Your son's been accepted as Alex and Jenny and Christian'sbrother.

Ice was forming in Megan's stomach, thin, brittle strips of it.

That has nothing to do

with him.

Don't be a fool. A man like Dumont thinks the world revolves around him. His eye's on politics, girl, and the way that particular circus is running, a few well-chosen words from you to the right reporter...

The i.e. was pleasant enough to make Colleen smile.

Well, his road to Washington would be a steeper climb.

I've no intention of going to the press, of exposing Kevin to public attention.

Wise.

Colleen sipped again.

A pity, but wise. You tell me if he tries anything. I'd like to tangle with him again.

I can handle it myself.

Colleen lifted one snowy brow.

Perhaps you can.

How come I have to wear a dumb tie?

Kevin squirmed while Megan fumbled with the knot. Her fingers had been stiff and cold ever since her talk with Colleen.

Because it's a special dinner and you need to look your best.

Ties are stupid. I bet Alex doesn't have to wear a stupid tie.

I don't know what Alex is wearing,

Megan said, with the last of her patience.

But

you're doing as you're told.

The sharp tone, rarely heard, had his bottom lip poking out.

I'd rather have pizza.

Well, you're not having pizza. Damn it, Kevin, hold still!

It's choking me.

I'm

going to choke you in a minute.

She blew her hair out of her eyes and secured the knot.

There. You look very handsome.

I look like a dork.

Fine, you look like a dork. Now put your shoes on.

Kevin scowled at the shiny black loafers.

I hate those shoes. I want to wear my sneakers.

Exasperated, she leaned down until their faces were level.

Young man, you will put

your shoes on, and you will watch your tone of voice. Or you'll find yourself in very hot water.

Megan marched out of his room and across the hall to her own. Snatching her brush from the dresser, she began to drag it through her hair. She didn't want to go to the damn dinner party, either. The aspirin she'd downed an hour before hadn't even touched the splitting headache slicing through her skull. But she had to put on her party face and go down, pretend she wasn't terrified and angry and sick with worry over Baxter Dumont.

Colleen might be wrong, she thought. After all, it had been nearly a decade. Why would Baxter bother with her and Kevin now?

Because he wanted to be a United States senator. Megan closed her eyes. She read the paper, didn't she? Baxter had already begun his campaign for the seat. And an illegitimate son, never acknowledged, hardly fit the straight-arrow platform he'd chosen.

Mom.

She saw Kevin's reflection in the mirror. His shoes were on and his chin was on his chest. Guilt squeezed its sticky fingers around her heart.

Yes, Kevin.

How come you're so mad at everything?

I'm not.

Wearily she sat on the e.g. of the bed.

I've just got a little headache. I'm

sorry I snapped at you.

She held out her arms, sighing when he filled them.

You're

such a handsome dork, Kev.

When he laughed, she kissed the top of his head.

Let's go down. Maybe Alex and Jenny are here.

They were, and Alex was just as disgusted with his tie as Kevin was with his. But there was too much going on for the boys to sulk for long. There were canape's to gobble, babies to play with and adventures to plan.

Everyone, naturally, was talking at once.

The volume in the room cut through Megan's aching head like a rusty saw. She accepted the flute of champagne Trenton II offered her, and did her best to pretend an interest in his flirtation. He was trim and tall and tanned, glossily handsome and charming. And Megan was desperately relieved when he turned his attentions on Coco.

Make a nice couple, don't they?

Nathaniel murmured in her ear.

Striking.

She took a cube of cheese and forced it down.

You don't look in the party mood, Meg.

I'm fine.

To distract him, she changed the subject.

You might be interested in

what I think I might have walked in on this afternoon.

Oh?

Taking her arm, he steered her toward the open terrace doors.

Coco and Dutch.

Fighting again? Saucepans at twenty paces?

Not exactly.

She took a deep breath of air, hoping it would clear her head.

They

were... at least I think they were...

Nathaniel's brows shot up. He could fill in the blanks himself.

You're joking.

No. They were nose-to-nose, with their arms around each other.

She managed to

smile even as she rubbed at the throbbing in her temple.

At my unexpected and

ill-timed entrance, they jumped apart as if they'd been planning murder. And they were blushing. Both of them.

The Dutchman, blushing?

Nathaniel started to laugh, but it began to sink in.

Good God.

I think it's sweet.

Sweet.

He looked back inside, where Coco, regally elegant, was laughing over something Trenton had whispered in her ear.

She's out of his league. She'll break his heart.

What a ridiculous thing to say.

Lord, why didn't her head just fall off her shoulders and give her some relief?

Sporting events have leagues, not romances.

The Dutchman and Coco.

It worried him, because they were two of the very few people in the world he could say he loved.

You're the accountant, sugar, and you're going to tell me that adds up?

I'm not telling you anything,

she shot back.

Except I think they're attracted to each other. And stop calling me 'sugar.'

Okay, simmer down.

He looked back down at her, focused on her.

What's the

matter?

Guiltily she dropped her hand. She'd been massaging her temple again.