Daddy on Demand / Déjà You: Daddy on Demand / Déjà You. Lynda Sandoval
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СКАЧАТЬ didn’t have to. I have good instincts and can put two and two together. Thank goodness the man put you up on a pedestal and refused to drag you off, otherwise he would have had a fling with you, then felt the need to buy you a nice piece of jewelry and find you a position with a deeper pocket than his.”

      “Well, I wasn’t interested in having an affair with him then, and I definitely am not now.”

      Cassidy sighed. “No, you’re the kind of girl a man marries, and Collin is practically allergic to that union, thanks to our parents, bless their souls.”

      What did that mean? She had never broached the subject with him—there had been no reason to, even when she was his assistant, although she did notice that his only contact information in case of emergency was Cassidy. She had assumed that they’d passed away.

      “That’s really none of my business, but I hope if he is involved with someone, that he doesn’t bring her here—I mean for the girls’ sake.”

      Cass chuckled. “By all means, for the girls’ sake.”

      Flustered, Sabrina slid off the bar stool. “I’d better get off this phone. The furniture is being delivered and the security guard is supposed to ring to warn me that they’re on their way upstairs.”

      “You’re wonderfully efficient. I’ll get back to you as soon as I have my schedule lined out.”

      “I’ll be here,” Sabrina murmured after the other woman disconnected.

      It shouldn’t have surprised Collin at how eager he was to get home that evening, but it did. Not good, he thought, yet it didn’t stop him. He’d been invited to cocktails with associates across town; there was also some gala over by the new Dallas Cowboy football stadium in Arlington and another in the Dallas theater district. He felt no temptation whatsoever to choose any of them and, thirty minutes before the rest of the staff quit for the day, Collin told his assistant Geoff that he had an appointment and was leaving.

      He arrived at the condo with a big sack of Chinese takeout. Sabrina was nowhere to be seen, so he set down the bag and pulled at his tie as he cautiously ventured through the hall. He would have called out to her, but if she was napping from all of her work and emotional upheaval, he wouldn’t want to wake her. Instead he found Sabrina on a stepladder draping yards of orange, lavender, pink and sage chiffon off the ceiling fan and fastening them to the four corners of the room.

      “Good grief, woman, this is supposed to be an upgraded nursery, not a harem.”

      With a yelp, Sabrina came off the ladder and would have tumbled back into one of the two dressers bookending either side of the doorway if Collin didn’t catch her by her trim waist and help her back upright. She then slapped him with her ponytail as she whirled around to face him.

      “Oh, no,” she gasped. “Sorry. Sorry.”

      Ruefully rubbing his cheek, he quipped, “Was it something I said?”

      “You’re early.” She checked her watch and frowned. “Very early. Didn’t you tell me that you had some function this evening?”

      “It’s a good thing I changed my mind about attending or you’d have a concussion or worse.”

      “I wouldn’t have fallen if you’d announced yourself.”

      “What, in my own house?” He wagged his right index finger at her pert nose. “I don’t think I like the idea of you on a ladder with no one about, either. Where did you get it? I certainly don’t own one.”

      “From the custodian, Mr. Salazar. Very nice man. He wanted to do this for me, but he had his hands full replacing bulbs in the lobby.” Sabrina gestured to her handiwork. “Do you really hate it?

      Collin saw that the beds and other furnishings had arrived, and that sometime thereafter, she’d been out and had purchased a happy orange twin bedspread, one in purple and throw rugs in lavender, and embroidered throw pillows with bangles and mirrors and beads. Posters of Disney heroines adorned the walls.

      “Who said anything about hate? It’s just—different. It’s definitely bright.” He looked from poster to poster. “I’m not sure how much use they’ll have for stories about mermaids and princesses at MIT. You do realize they know their numbers to twenty and can identify their names when they see them? They’re learning to write them now. I believe calculus is scheduled to start next week.”

      “They can go back to being overachievers when their mommy returns. For now we’re immersing them in storytelling and the art of using your imagination.”

      Amused, Collin watched her stretch to reach for the pink light bulbs on one of the dressers and felt his blood heat several degrees as her periwinkle sweater pulled across the gentle mounds of her breasts. “I certainly get that.”

      “Don’t worry, I cleared it with Cassidy.” Sabrina stretched her arms this time to encompass the room. “And look, I’m making this as easy for you as I can. No pink walls to paint over after they return home, no cutesy wallpaper or painted murals.”

      As she started up the ladder again, Collin stayed her. “Have you eaten today?”

      Her eyes lowered, she said, “Sure. I found some crackers in the pantry, and I admit I helped myself to the cheese you had in the refrigerator.”

      “All that?” He took the bulbs from her and put them back on the dresser. “Enough for today. I don’t need you falling off the ladder again, this time from hunger.” He took her by her elbow and directed her down the hall. “I’ll buy you dinner.”

      “Two nights in a row? That’s not necessary.”

      “Frugal little thing. For your information, I brought back takeout. There’s a nice bottle of Shiraz in the red section of the cooler that should accompany it well.”

      Visibly touched, Sabrina said, “That was thoughtful of you.”

      “You are literally saving my sanity. The least I can do is keep you alive.”

      Sabrina’s brief laugh ended in a groan. “There’s no danger in that. My brothers will tell you that they had to fight for their share of food at our table when we were growing up.”

      “Being a brother myself, I can assure you that we can be thoughtless lugs, when we aren’t outright pigs.” Collin stopped at the dining-room table and pulled out a chair for her. “Now this is an order. Sit and I will serve tonight.”

      Sabrina balked. “I’m not in any condition to sit at this table. Couldn’t we sit at the kitchen counter on the bar stools?”

      “Grand idea.” Inclining his head, he led the way, ditched his tie and suit jacket over one of the four bar stools, then drew out another for her. Once he had her seated, he collected two long-stemmed wineglasses from a cupboard and the wine. “Do you like Shiraz?”

      “I had it once and honestly couldn’t tell the difference between it and the other red. I don’t remember what that was.”

      “Bet it was a Syrah. Sometimes even I can’t tell the difference, but then Syrahs are sometimes marketed as Shiraz. It’s a dark-skinned grape with a history that goes back to the BCs. Do you like Asian food?”

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