Love In Plain Sight. Jeanie London
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Название: Love In Plain Sight
Автор: Jeanie London
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon Superromance
isbn: 9781472016669
isbn:
Would the rat queen sit in if I offered her the three packs of Camels in my backpack? I’d bet money the security guard would. If I had any money to bet. I didn’t because I’d already spent what I had on three packs of Camels. Not to mention the time I’d wasted finding a convenience store to sell them to me without identification because I was underage.
“Come on,” I said. “I’ll figure out something.”
I glanced at the clock on the way out. Six whole minutes to come up with a plan. Great. I got everyone quietly inside the tutoring room. Then I saw him.
He walked past the window, looking as noticeable as he had the first time I’d noticed him. Which was sort of strange really, since there wasn’t anything that noticeable about him.
Except for the guitar slung over his back, he might have been any student from the high school. A senior, definitely. I wasn’t surprised to find him here since we were only a few blocks away from where I’d first seen him.
He had been playing on the street corner across from the Western wear store where I usually set up my pitch. The lady who owned the store liked me. I was quiet compared to all the street musicians who played in the District, and I always chalked a brilliant design on her sidewalk space that made tourists slow down long enough to notice her store.
Whenever tourists sat for a caricature, they stared at her window displays. I always threw a cowboy hat or some boots and fringe into my sketches to get folks in the country mood.
We were a match made in heaven.
Maybe this guitar guy went to school, maybe not. But I remembered him. And his music. Not the usual country that every musician in town played. He stuck out in the streets the way I did with my art.
No, this guy’s music was more varied, some folksy, some rock, some alternative. Definitely original. He had a raspy voice that managed to be smooth and clear. I liked listening to him. Yeah, that was why I had noticed him.
I didn’t have time to think, so I acted.
He sidestepped the opening door with a quick move and a steadying hand on his guitar.
“Excuse me.” For some reason, I sounded breathless, as if I had run to catch him.
He turned and stared down at me with eyes as dark as his hair. There was something Hispanic in him. No question.
Those dark eyes got curious, and I realized he was waiting for me to say something.
“Do you have forty minutes I could borrow?” I blurted. “Like right now.”
A grin appeared as he stared at me, visibly deciding what to make of my random proposition.
“I have to tape a presentation for my online class, and I need four in my audience. Had a no-show.”
I hadn’t realized how cute he was, but it was impossible to ignore up close. He had these crazy high cheekbones and caramel skin. He was buff, too. The muscles in his thighs stretched his jeans like he was one of those cross-country runners who trained around the neighborhood.
“I’ll pay you ten bucks.” Same thing I paid everyone else. Except Faffi, who extracted payment whenever she needed me to do something for her. A budding politician. I would vote for her. “Or three packs of Camels.”
That grin turned into a full-out smile. He had a dimple. “I’ll take the Camels.”
CHAPTER FIVE
MARC HAD BEEN enjoying his escape for the first ten minutes of the ride. Courtney didn’t know what to make of him, had no clue what she’d signed on for. But she put on a good show. He respected that. Maybe because he sensed how uncertain she was, bouncing back and forth between appreciating his presence in her car but being worried about the way he’d gotten here.
Even he couldn’t blame her. He hadn’t exactly been accommodating, and his guess was she considered him the family wild card. Anthony would never have given her a hard time.
But any enjoyment Marc felt about escaping the prison his life had become ended when Courtney steered her overpriced toy car out of his neighborhood and headed into hers. He shouldn’t be surprised that manicured lawns stretched back from the streets or that chain-link and weather-battered wooden fences yielded to expensive brickwork and ornate iron gates.
By the time she wheeled off a side street and pulled into a driveway, Marc remembered why he hadn’t thought much of this woman’s family. The Garden District mansion in front of him, all pitched eaves and wraparound gallery, looked like a house kids might tour on school field-trip day.
“So this is home.” Not a question, but a stupid comment he should have kept to himself. The irony of all the stairs must be wearing on his impulse control. Stairs leading to the front porch. Stairs inside leading to one, two, three floors. Unless that top floor was an attic? He could hope.
Courtney nodded, silky hair threading over her shoulders with the gesture, drawing his gaze once again to her slender neck and the delicate curve of her jaw. “Well, half of this is home anyway. House was split into two residences.”
“So you rent?” Okay, he wasn’t really interested, but his lack of impulse control had started this conversation. Couldn’t blame her for that.
“No, I own my side. Like a co-op.”
Mortgage on half a place this size must be a small fortune that she surely couldn’t be swinging on her social worker’s salary. He knew what real estate went for in New Orleans because Nic had been hunting for a place to move his family into after the wedding. Especially in this part of town. Cheaper to pay a mortgage in this economy, which was why Marc owned two properties himself.
“Who owns the other half?”
“Admiral Patton and his wife.”
No response was necessary, which was good since Marc didn’t have much to say. Not anything that would be considered a constructive start to their working relationship.
And he was here to work. Period.
He needed to remember that, because everything about Courtney distracted him, from the hair she wore loose to the feminine way she moved. The only thing that grounded him was her mouth. Every time she opened it, he remembered who she was.
He’d known the Gerard family had money. The name was attached to some heavy hitters, and he’d heard of them all while growing up in New Orleans, names belonging to the longtime district attorney, some politicians and other visible city power brokers. Civil service seemed to run in the family like a luxury most people couldn’t afford.
Courtney eased up on the brake, coasting the short distance to the garage, where she came to another stop. Slipping out the driver’s side, she stood watching him put on a show as he pulled himself out of the car. She made a few false starts, as if she wanted to offer help but had decided against it.
A good call on her part.
When the cane clattered to the driveway, she snatched it up and offered it to him, seemed relieved to do something to dodge the tense silence. His frustration and her guilt for subjecting СКАЧАТЬ