The Colton Marine. Lisa Childs

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ She’d claimed, when they’d reconnected a half a dozen years ago, that she harbored no resentment—that she understood. But was that how she really felt?

      Then he understood why she’d pulled away when she reached inside her purse and pulled out a vibrating cell phone. At least he hoped that was the reason.

      “I have to take this,” she said, but yet she hesitated.

      And he realized why—she didn’t want him to overhear her call. Was it from a boyfriend?

      Or her mysterious employer?

      Mac swallowed a sigh of disappointment that he wouldn’t find out—because he had to respect her privacy. But he was worried that the secrets Edith was keeping might put her in danger, especially if she insisted on going back to La Bonne Vie alone.

      * * *

      Edith waited until the front door closed behind her uncle before she called Declan back. He had only let the phone ring a few times before hanging up moments ago. That was the way he was—too busy to waste his time.

      He’d even been like that when they were kids.

      Of course he wouldn’t want to talk to her if she was with someone, either. He was fanatical about maintaining his privacy—especially in Shadow Creek. He’d come to town once when she’d been visiting her uncle, but he’d declined meeting Mac. She suspected, though, that Mac wasn’t whom he hadn’t wanted to meet.

      He answered on the first ring. “Hey, you alone now?”

      “Yes...” But as she said it, she glanced around—making certain. She didn’t feel alone; she hadn’t since she’d stepped through the front door of La Bonne Vie.

      “Good.”

      He was obviously alone, as well. She felt a pang of regret over that; her boss was usually alone. But he always claimed that was the way he wanted it. It must have been, because, with his good looks and money, he could have any woman he wanted. But like her, he was too busy for relationships and too smart to want one.

      “When do you plan to go to the estate in the morning?” he asked.

      “I already checked out the place tonight,” Edith said.

      “Of course you have,” he murmured with satisfaction. “What’s the situation?”

      “The power has been turned on,” Edith said. “But I almost wish it hadn’t been.”

      “Why’s that?” he asked.

      “Because I can see how much work I have to do,” she said. “The place is a mess, Declan. It’s going to take major work if you want it to be inhabitable.”

      “All it takes to be inhabitable is power and running water,” he said.

      “You haven’t seen this place,” Edith said. He’d bought it sight unseen. And she couldn’t imagine why.

      Something sounding almost like a growl rattled the phone. “I will soon,” he said, his voice gruff with frustration. “I’m going to clear my schedule...”

      Which meant she would have to clear his schedule—in addition to all her other responsibilities as his executive assistant.

      “...and visit in a few weeks,” he continued. “You’ll need to have a room ready for me then.”

      “At the local B and B?” He hadn’t stayed in town last time he’d visited her. And of course he’d refused to stay with her at Mac’s. Instead he’d made the six-hour drive between Shadow Creek and Lake Charles, Louisiana, twice in one day.

      He chuckled and replied, “At La Bonne Vie, of course.”

      She shuddered at the thought of anyone staying there. Of course, she’d already told her uncle and River that she intended to. It made sense for her, though—since she had so much work to do there.

      “You should have a room there, as well,” he told her, “if there’s as much to do as you say...”

      She sighed. “I didn’t have the chance to do much of an assessment yet. I could barely walk through the place.”

      “Sounds like inventory might take you a while.”

      He’d bought the estate with all its furnishings. Edith knew how much he’d bid for it, which she’d thought was high even before she had seen the place. But Declan hadn’t built his business into the success that it was by paying too much for real estate.

      “I’ll get it done,” she assured him.

      “You always do,” he said. “That’s why I know I can count on you.”

      She smiled over his praise but was compelled to admit, “I might need to hire some help to get the house ready for anyone to stay there, though.”

      “Edith, you know I don’t want anyone snooping around La Bonne Vie.”

      She flinched as she thought of River being inside, along with Mac. Declan wouldn’t like that. But River had only been investigating her scream. Hadn’t he?

      “Not snooping,” she said. “Working on the place. You know the house has been empty for ten years.” Supposedly. It hadn’t felt empty tonight, though—even before River Colton had showed up. “It needs to have things fixed I’m not qualified to repair—like the central air-conditioning unit and maybe the plumbing and probably some windows.” Because the animals must have gotten into the house somehow.

      Declan’s sigh rattled the phone now. “Just make sure whoever you hire can be trusted. And that no one knows I bought the place.”

      She uttered a sigh now—of frustration. “Of course. I know my job.”

      To protect his privacy at all costs.

      She glanced back at the house. Through the front window, she saw Uncle Mac moving around, getting his house ready for her. She hated not being able to tell him more about her life. He clearly thought she didn’t want to include him in it. But she would—if she could.

      “You had me sign a confidentiality agreement in my employment contract,” she reminded him. But that wasn’t why she kept Declan’s secrets.

      “You know why I did that,” he said. “It isn’t easy for me to trust.”

      “I know.”

      “It’s not easy for you, either,” he said.

      No. It wasn’t.

      And for some reason River Colton’s face came to her mind. Even with that scar and patch, he was ridiculously handsome—not that she’d seen much of his face tonight with how low he’d pulled that hat.

      But she remembered how he’d looked on news reports. His hair was thick and brown but always worn in a short, military-style cut. His eyes—eye—was a bright green, his gaze so piercing that it could nearly cut through a person. At least that was how he’d looked at the reporters and photographers bold enough to take his picture.

СКАЧАТЬ