A Baby of Her Own. Brenda Novak

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СКАЧАТЬ If only he could hide from the truth as well as his mother did, pretend the past had never occurred…

      But he couldn’t dwell on Vivian or Clive or anyone else. Idaho was a test to see if he really was the no-good, lazy individual his uncles claimed him to be. Could he beat his genetic legacy? Compete with the great Armstrongs? Only time would tell.

      His cowboy friend started on the basket of chips, and Conner ordered another beer. He was almost finished with it and thinking about heading up to his room to see if hotels in Boise had Pay-Per-View, when the street door behind him opened again.

      “Let’s go somewhere else,” a woman murmured. “There’s hardly anyone here.”

      “It’s getting late and it’s storming. There’s not going to be a big crowd anywhere,” another female voice replied, this one more clearly. “Besides, hotel bars might not be the busiest in town, but you won’t have to go anywhere to rent a room if you happen to get lucky.”

      Get lucky? Conner turned to see a tall redhead with a petite brunette. The redhead was saying something about the clientele of a hotel being transient and how perfect that was, but her words fell off the moment she noticed him.

      “Omigod, there he is!” she cried.

      Conner stiffened in surprise, wondering if the redhead thought she knew him from somewhere. Not very likely, he decided. He would have remembered her. This woman wasn’t exactly the type to get lost in a crowd. Nearly six feet tall and bone-thin, she was dressed in a floor-length, fake leopard-skin coat, wore bright red lipstick, nail polish and high heels and had dyed her hair to match. She was mildly attractive despite all the fashion handicaps, but she certainly didn’t look like anything he’d expected to find in Idaho.

      She immediately started prying off the brunette’s coat. Though the brunette obviously didn’t want to relinquish it, she finally let go, probably hoping to save herself the humiliation of an all-out brawl.

      At that point, Conner turned away. The redhead was sending him overtly interested looks, and he didn’t want to be singled out by a woman who reminded him so much of Cruella De Vil. He had only one night in Boise, which made it pretty pointless to socialize. And he’d long since grown bored with easy women.

      “I think someone’s got her eye on you,” his neighbor said with a chortle.

      Conner shook his head and lifted his glass. “I’m not interested,” he said, but then he caught a good look at the brunette in the mirror behind the bar and wasn’t so sure. She had wide blue eyes, creamy white skin, a slightly upturned nose and a full bottom lip. Except for her eyes, which were striking because they were so light against the contrast of her dark hair, she wasn’t stunningly attractive. But there was something about her that was wholesome, almost sweet, and it certainly had nothing to do with her dress.

      Conner sucked air through his teeth in a silent whistle as he let his eyes wander lower. Dresses like that should be outlawed, he decided, noting that she’d already turned every male head in the place, including the cowboy’s. Black, short and clingy, the skimpy number she had on left little to the imagination, and this woman definitely had the figure to pull it off. Conner couldn’t help admiring her firm, trim shape and some of her softer curves—until he met her eyes in the mirror. Then she looked at him like a rabbit caught in his headlights, blushed and tried to reclaim her coat.

      The redhead would have none of it. They moved across the room, where Conner could no longer hear what was being said, but some sort of argument ensued. The redhead rolled her eyes, and the way she kept glancing at him suggested he played some part in the conversation.

      A prickling at the back of his neck told him it was time to go. He’d had his wild days. He’d put them behind him and was ready to find something more meaningful in life. But the distress on the brunette’s face kept him in his seat. Most women who wore such revealing clothes wanted male attention. This one seemed completely out of her element.

      Letting curiosity get the better of him, Conner decided to stick around for a few more minutes. He even ordered another beer. He could usually trust his instincts, and his instincts told him the excitement level in Idaho was about to spike.

      DELANEY HAD NEVER BEEN more embarrassed. She wanted to cover the scandalous dress she’d borrowed from Rebecca’s sister, drag Rebecca outside and head straight home, snowstorm or not. But now that they’d come this far, Rebecca wasn’t about to let her off the hook.

      “Why are we sitting way the hell over here?” she demanded when Delaney led them to a far corner table.

      “Because I need a moment to collect myself.”

      “Collect yourself? Why? We just got here.”

      “I want to sit back and check out the scene, all right? Can I have some say over what happens tonight?”

      “I guess.” Rebecca conceded this small victory to Delaney by finally taking a seat, but that didn’t stop her from looking over her shoulder every few seconds at the guy they’d spotted when they first came in.

      “Would you quit being so obvious?” Delaney muttered. There were only twelve or fourteen other people in the whole place, mostly along the perimeter, but Delaney felt as if they were all staring at her. “You’re drawing too much attention!”

      “I’m not drawing attention. That dress is drawing attention. I’m just making sure our man doesn’t go anywhere while you ‘collect’ yourself. He’s so hot. He looks just like Hugh Jackman, don’t you think? I love the way his hair curls above his collar.”

      The guy at the bar did look like Hugh Jackman. He had coffee-colored eyes and hair, with short sideburns. Plus high cheekbones, a narrow nose and square jaw. His body type seemed similar, too—all muscle and no fat. But that was half the problem. Why did Rebecca have to choose someone so intimidating?

      “If you think he’s so cute, you sleep with him,” Delaney grumbled.

      “I’m not the one who wants a baby,” Rebecca reminded her. “At least, I’m not in any hurry.”

      Because Rebecca wasn’t the one who’d been taken in but not legally adopted, who was going to be alone, who’d always been alone. “Well, I’m not ready for this,” Delaney said. “We should’ve waited until tomorrow night or next week or—”

      “Or never? You would’ve chickened out. I know you. You would’ve started thinking about how unfair it is not to be completely up front about your intentions and—”

      “Because it is unfair.”

      “Except that it won’t cost the guy you sleep with anything to make you the happiest woman on earth.” Rebecca checked over her shoulder again. “Now, go talk to him.”

      Delaney’s stomach plummeted to her knees. “Just like that?”

      “Why not? What are you waiting for?”

      A personality transplant. This just wasn’t her. She’d never come on to a guy before. Which was probably why she’d die a virgin if she didn’t make some changes soon, she told herself. Rebecca had managed to find a husband and was going to get married. Maybe she should take Rebecca’s advice on this. But why did her friend have to choose a guy who looked like he could be Hugh Jackman’s twin brother?

      “He’s at the СКАЧАТЬ