All Our Tomorrows. Irene Hannon
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Название: All Our Tomorrows

Автор: Irene Hannon

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Короткие любовные романы

Серия: Mills & Boon Love Inspired

isbn: 9781408965009

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ that was a scary thought. Growing up in a blue-collar family, where times had always been lean—and gotten even leaner when their father died too young and their mother had to take a job as a cook in a diner just to make ends meet—David had vowed to find a career that provided an income high enough to eliminate financial worries. He’d achieved that—in spades—in his former job. But over time he’d felt a call to do something else, something that made a difference in lives instead of balance sheets. Steve’s call six months ago, alerting him to an upcoming opening at Uplink, had seemed almost providential. David had prayed about it—had even prayed that God not ask him to apply for it—but in the end, the call had been too strong to ignore. So he’d put his trust in God and taken a leap of faith. He just hoped he hadn’t leapt into unemployment.

      But as Steve had just reminded him, nothing worth doing was accomplished without some risk. And even if he failed, he would be able to take some comfort in knowing that he’d followed God’s call and done his best.

      David reached for the receiver, hesitated, then let his hand drop back to his desk. He wished he hadn’t volunteered to contact Caroline about a story for the Chronicle. Seeing her once had been hard enough. Now he had to call and ask for her assistance. At least it was for a larger cause and not a personal favor. Still, it made him feel uneasy. And unsettled. In fact, he’d been feeling that way ever since his encounter with her the week before.

      And he knew exactly why.

      For one thing, their meeting had dredged up memories of the tragedy that had robbed his brother of his life. Had made him recall the day he’d been pulled out of a major negotiation session to take an urgent call that his usually efficient secretary hadn’t seemed able to handle. He remembered muttering, “This better be important,” as he swept past her with an irritated glance. He’d still been annoyed when he’d picked up the phone. Until he’d heard Caroline’s almost hysterical voice on the other end of the crackling line, telling him between ragged sobs that Michael was dead.

      David’s gut had twisted into a hard knot, and he’d sagged against the desk, almost as if someone had delivered a physical blow to his midsection. He’d been too shocked to comprehend much else of what she’d said. And when she’d hung up, he’d sat there in stunned silence, until at last his secretary had knocked on the door to remind him that the high-powered group assembled in the next room was waiting for him.

      It had been a nightmare day. And the two weeks that followed had been just as horrendous. He’d decided not to tell his mother, who was slipping away day by day, fearing that the news—if she even understood it—would strain her heart, which was already weak. So he’d stood alone at the funeral. Caroline had been beside him physically, but she’d been as unreachable as the distant peaks he’d spotted on his trek in the Himalayas last year. And looking at her devastated face, watching the way her hands shook, had only exacerbated his own pain—and guilt.

      Seeing her again had brought all those memories back. So he shouldn’t be surprised that the incident had unsettled him. Nor should he be surprised that the thought of contacting her again made him uneasy.

      But he knew it was more than that. Knew that his feelings reflected something far deeper and less obvious, something he’d fiercely suppressed since the day Michael had escorted Caroline through the door of his mother’s apartment and introduced her as his fiancée.

      The fact was, from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her, David had been smitten. There was no other word for it. Nor any basis for it. He was an adult, after all. He’d been thirty-four when they met, not some teenager whose hormones could be whipped into a frenzy by the mere sight of a pretty face. In fact, he’d been so stunned by his unexpected reaction to her that he couldn’t even recall much about that first meeting. He supposed he’d managed to sound coherent, because no one had acted as if he was behaving oddly. But he’d been so thrown that for the rest of Caroline and Michael’s three-day visit, he had made it a point to avoid one-on-one conversations with her. He was afraid his tongue would get tangled up or, worse, that it would sabotage him and say something inappropriate. Such as, “I know you’re engaged to my brother, but would you marry me, instead?”

      That, of course, wasn’t even a consideration. David had never intruded on Michael’s turf. Not as a child, not as a teenager, not as an adult. He loved his brother too much to do anything to jeopardize their relationship. In fact, if the truth was known, he’d always had a case of hero worship for him. He’d admired his sense of adventure, his willingness to take risks, his easygoing manner, his go-with-the-flow attitude. Not to mention his choice of women. Particularly his fiancée.

      But if Caroline’s beauty had bowled him over, he’d discovered other qualities about her in the next few days that had only added to her appeal. She’d been patient and kind with his failing mother, who had enjoyed some of her better days during their visit. He’d been struck by her lively intelligence, her generous spirit, her sense of justice and her passion for her work. In short, he’d been knocked off his feet.

      In retrospect, David doubted that Caroline had even noticed him much during that visit. She’d had eyes only for Michael, and the soft light of love on her face when she looked at him had made David, for the first time in his life, jealous of his brother. It had also made him think about all the things he’d missed as he focused on launching his career to the exclusion of everything else—including love. Oh, he’d dated his share of women. But he’d never even considered a serious commitment. The trouble was, even though he’d opened the door to that possibility after her visit, he’d never met anyone who measured up to Caroline.

      David knew that his impressions of her had been fleeting. Too fleeting to form the basis for any sort of rational attraction. Yet even as his brain reminded him of that, his heart refused to listen. For some reason, in that one brief visit, she’d touched him in a way no other woman had, before or since. She’d done so again, at Michael’s funeral, though on that occasion the attraction was tempered by grief. And guilt. Even now, he could explain it no better than he had been able to two years before. He’d assumed that her appeal would dissipate over time, but he’d been wrong. The minute she’d stepped through the office door last week it had slammed against his chest with the same force that it had the first time they’d met.

      As for how to handle his feelings—David had no idea. All he knew was that they were irrational, inappropriate and unsettling. Not to mention guilt-inducing. Caroline had loved Michael. She still did, if her reactions last week were any indication. And he couldn’t intrude on his brother’s turf. It hadn’t felt right two and a half years ago, and it didn’t feel right now. Even if the lady was willing or interested. And Caroline didn’t fall into either of those categories. So his best plan was to make the call, ask for the favor and forget about her.

      But considering the way his feelings had returned with such intensity after a two-year gap in contact, he suspected that plan was destined for failure.

      “I have David Sloan on line three for you. Do you want to take the call?”

      Caroline’s hand jerked, making her pen squiggle across the copy she was editing. With dismay, she eyed the erratic red line sprawled across the typed page. So much for her usual neat, legible edits.

      Why was David calling her? When he’d walked out the door last week, she’d been convinced that she’d never hear from him again. There had been a sense of finality about his visit, of closure. Now he was back. And she wasn’t anxious to talk with him. It had taken her several days after his last visit to rebury the memories and pain it had dredged up. She didn’t want to go through that again.

      Still, she was curious. David didn’t strike her as the kind of man who did things without a great deal of thought. Nor without good reason. Whatever the purpose of his call, she assumed it was important.

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