Rainy Day Kisses. Debbie Macomber
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Название: Rainy Day Kisses

Автор: Debbie Macomber

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Контркультура

Серия: Mills & Boon M&B

isbn: 9781474069045

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ in Swan Lake.

      “Relax, will you?” Nate encouraged.

      “I told you already I’m not into this motherhood business,” she snapped. “If you think you can do better, you feed her.”

      “You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”

      She wasn’t doing great at all, and she knew it, but this was as good as she got.

      “When’s the last time you had anything to eat?” he asked.

      “I beg your pardon?”

      “You sound hungry to me.”

      “Well, I’m not,” Susannah said irritably.

      “I think you are, but don’t worry, I’ll take care of that.” He walked boldly into her kitchen and paused in front of the refrigerator. “Your mood will improve once you have something in your stomach.”

      Shifting Michelle higher, Susannah stood and followed him. “You can’t just walk in here and—”

      “I’ll say I can’t,” he murmured, his head inside her fridge. “Do you realize there’s nothing in here except an open box of baking soda and a jar full of pickle juice?”

      “I eat out a lot,” Susannah said defensively.

      “I can see that.”

      Michelle had finished the bottle and made a slurping sound that prompted Susannah to remove the nipple from her mouth. The baby’s eyes were closed. Little wonder, Susannah thought. She was probably exhausted. Certainly Susannah was, and it was barely seven on Friday evening. The weekend was just beginning.

      Setting the empty bottle on the kitchen counter, Susannah awkwardly lifted Michelle onto her shoulder and patted her back until she produced a tiny burp. Feeling a real sense of accomplishment, Susannah smiled proudly.

      Nate chuckled and when Susannah glanced in his direction, she discovered him watching her, his grin warm and appraising. “You’re going to be fine.”

      Flustered, Susannah lowered her gaze. She always disliked it when a man looked at her that way, examining her features and forming a judgment about her by the size of her nose, or the direction in which her eyebrows grew. Most men seemed to believe they’d been granted a rare gift of insight and could determine a woman’s entire character just by looking at her face. Unfortunately, Susannah’s was too austere by conventional standards to be classified as beautiful. Her eyes were deep-set and dark, her cheekbones high. Her nose came almost straight from her forehead and together with her full mouth made her look like a classic Greek sculpture. Not pretty, she thought. Interesting perhaps.

      It was during Susannah’s beleaguered self-evaluation that Michelle stirred and started jabbering cheerfully, reaching one hand toward a strand of Susannah’s dark hair.

      Without her realizing it, her chignon had come undone. Michelle had somehow managed to loosen the pins and now the long dark tresses fell haphazardly over Susannah’s shoulder. If there was one thing Susannah was meticulous about, and actually there were several, it was her appearance. She must look a rare sight, in an expensive business suit with a stained white blouse and her hair tumbling over her shoulder.

      “Actually I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to introduce myself,” Nate said, leaning against the counter. “But after the first couple of times we saw each other, our paths didn’t seem to cross again.”

      “I’ve been working a lot of overtime lately.” If the truth be known, Susannah almost always put in extra hours. Often she brought work home with her. She was dedicated, committed and hardworking. Her neighbor, however, didn’t seem to possess any of those qualities. She strongly suspected that everything in life had come much too easily for Nate Townsend. She’d never seen him without his baseball cap or his T-shirt. Somehow she doubted he even owned a suit. And if he did, it probably wouldn’t look right on him. Nate Townsend was definitely a football-jersey type of guy.

      He seemed likable—friendly and outgoing—but from what she’d seen, he lacked ambition. Apparently there’d never been anything he’d wanted badly enough to really strive for.

      “I’m glad we had the chance to introduce ourselves,” Susannah added, walking back into the living room and toward her front door. “I appreciate the help, but as you said, Michelle and I are going to be fine.”

      “It didn’t sound that way when I arrived.”

      “I was just getting my feet wet,” she returned, defending herself, “and why are you arguing with me? You’re the one who said I was doing all right.”

      “I lied.”

      “Why would you do that?”

      Nate shrugged nonchalantly. “I thought a little self-confidence would do you good, so I offered it.”

      Susannah glared at him, resenting his attitude. So much for the nice-guy-who-lives-next-door image she’d had of him. “I don’t need any favors from you.”

      “You may not,” he agreed, “but unfortunately Michelle does. The poor kid was starving and you didn’t so much as suspect.”

      “I would’ve figured it out.”

      Nate gave her a look that seemed to cast doubt on her intelligence, and Susannah frowned right back. She opened the door with far more force than necessary and flipped her hair over her shoulder with flair a Paris model would have envied. “Thanks for stopping in,” she said stiffly, “but as you can see everything’s under control.”

      “If you say so.” He grinned at her and without another word was gone.

      Susannah banged the door shut with her hip, feeling a rush of satisfaction as she did so. She knew this was petty, but her neighbor had annoyed her in more ways than one.

      Soon afterward Susannah heard the soft strains of an Italian opera drifting from Nate’s condominium. At least she thought it was Italian, which was unfortunate because that made her think of spaghetti and how hungry she actually was.

      “Okay, Michelle,” she said, smiling down on her niece. “It’s time to feed your auntie.” Without too much trouble, Susannah assembled the high chair and set her niece in that while she scanned the contents of her freezer.

      The best she could come up with was a frozen Mexican entrée. She gazed at the picture on the front of the package, shook her head and tossed it back inside the freezer.

      Michelle seemed to approve and vigorously slapped the tray on her high chair.

      Crossing her arms and leaning against the freezer door, Susannah paused. “Did you hear what he said?” she asked, still irate. “I guess he was right, but he didn’t have to be so superior about it.”

      Michelle slapped her hands in approval once again. The music was muted by the thick walls, and wanting to hear a little more, Susannah cracked open the sliding glass door to her balcony, which was separated from Nate’s by a concrete partition. It bestowed privacy, but didn’t muffle the beautiful voices raised in triumphant song.

      Susannah opened the glass door completely and stepped outside. The evening СКАЧАТЬ