Yesterday's Love. Sherryl Woods

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СКАЧАТЬ were also stubs for at least a dozen charity raffles and the ends from three boxes of chocolate mint Girl Scout cookies. He groaned.

      “What’s wrong?” Victoria demanded. “It’s all very clear.”

      “Yes. I suppose it is,” Tate admitted. “It’s just that I’m used to…”

      “You’re used to nice, tidy books with columns of numbers that all add up.”

      The way she put it sounded insulting, as though there was something wrong with believing in order. “I can’t help it if I’ve been trained to respect reliable accounting methods. This is…it’s…” He couldn’t even find a word to express his utter dismay at her lackadaisical approach to record keeping.

      “Mr. McAndrews,” Victoria said, her cheeks flushed and her blue eyes flashing. “I have better things to do with my time than write a bunch of figures down in some book. They all add up the same whether they’re in a book or in that shopping bag.”

      Tate’s head was starting to pound. He was beginning to feel the way he had earlier when he’d understood her logic in expecting that ridiculous tax refund. “I suppose,” he agreed without very much conviction. He stood up and tried to balance the stack of shoeboxes in one arm, while grabbing the two shopping bags and the purse with the other. He motioned toward the envelopes. “Can you get those?”

      “Where are you going with this?”

      “I’m going to take it into the office and try to make some sense of it. That’s what an audit is all about. I have to assure the IRS that you haven’t tried to cheat them.”

      Victoria sighed. “I haven’t, you know,” she said softly, her voice filled with something that sounded like disappointment at his continued disbelief.

      Tate nodded. Ironically, he did believe her. No one whose head was as high in the clouds as Victoria Marshall’s would ever dream of cheating on her taxes. And even if the thought had crossed her mind, he doubted if she could figure out how to do it.

      Victoria followed him down the stairs and out to his car, noting that it was what she would have expected him to drive: a very conservative, American made, four-door sedan. Anyone with his precise, orderly mind definitely would not be into flash and dazzle. She was a little worried, though, about the effect the afternoon seemed to have had on him. He did not look like the same determined, self-confident man who’d walked into her life a few hours earlier. He appeared defeated somehow, though his brown eyes did twinkle a little when he said goodbye.

      “What happened to dinner?” she taunted. “I did win the bet, you know.”

      “As soon as I figure this out, I’ll be in touch,” he promised with a sizzling, sensual smile that sent her blood pressure soaring. “And we’ll celebrate your victory over IRS with champagne, caviar and beef Wellington.”

      As he drove off, Victoria sighed. If he threw in candlelight and roses, she’d be a goner.

Chapter Three

      The following morning, Victoria sat at the kitchen table for a long time, dreamily sipping a cup of tea and trying unsuccessfully to push disturbing and unexpectedly lusty thoughts of Tate McAndrews from her mind. The rumpled tan sports jacket he’d forgotten and left draped over the back of a chair was not helping matters. When she’d run her hand over the fine material, her fingers had picked up the lingering, tangy scent of his cologne. The clean, outdoorsy odor had brought back a sharp image of that brief, tantalizing moment when he’d caught her and held her in his arms.

      Of all the men who might have wandered into her life and stirred up her untapped passions, Tate McAndrews was the worst possible choice. Tate was so…sensible, so practical. She had the distinct impression that he would never do anything impulsive. He would examine all the implications, evaluate the possible consequences and then, if it didn’t seem too costly, he might indulge in a few minutes of simple fun.

      She, on the other hand, was constantly getting sidetracked by interesting, unexpected things. Not once could she ever recall going from point A to point B without wandering off to explore along the way. She saw life in glorious, spectacular Technicolor. If what she’d seen yesterday was any indication, Tate seemed to view it in black and white, without the benefit of any grays.

      Victoria sighed. It was definitely a mismatch. And yet…. She glanced over at the bright yellow wall phone, dared it to ring, then shook her head.

      “You are losing it, Victoria,” she muttered aloud. “It’s barely 8:00 a.m. No man, however enchanted he might be, is likely to call at that hour, and Tate McAndrews did not seem the least bit enchanted.” She paused thoughtfully, recalling those one or two looks that could have sizzled bacon to a crisp. She shook her head and dismissed them. “Uh-uh. The man thinks you are a certifiable nut. There is a very good chance he will not call at all…unless he remembers his jacket or decides to haul you in for income tax evasion. Forget about him.”

      Deep down she knew this was good advice. She also knew she wasn’t likely to follow it. Unfortunately romantics never listened to their heads. Lancelot, who had finished his breakfast and retreated to the windowsill for his morning sunbath, meowed softly as though in complete agreement with her analysis of the absurdity of her behavior.

      “Oh, shut up, cat! Don’t you start on me,” she grumbled irritably, slamming down her teacup and grabbing the morning paper. She turned the pages with a vengeance that caused more than one of them to tear. When the phone shrilled a moment later, she jumped nervously and stared at it, almost afraid to pick it up.

      “Hello,” she said at last, her voice soft, low and unintentionally sexy.

      “Victoria? Is that you? You sound like you have a cold.”

      “Oh. Hi, Mom,” she said, unconsciously trading sexiness for disappointed grumpiness.

      “My goodness, that’s certainly a cheerful greeting. What’s wrong with you?”

      “Nothing,” she denied, trying to inject a little spirit into her voice before her mother rushed over with chicken soup and parental advice. “I’m fine. What’s up?”

      “I was just wondering if you’d like a little company at the shop today. I haven’t seen you in a while.”

      “Three days.”

      “Well, it seems like longer.”

      Victoria chuckled. She knew how her mother loved to help out at the shop. She enjoyed meeting the people, and she absolutely loved haggling with them over a price. She said it made up for the frustration of having to pay outrageous prices without question in the local stores.

      “Come on over, Mom. I should be there about ten.”

      “Why don’t I stop by and pick you up? There’s no point in driving two cars.”

      “I gather you’re planning to spend the day?” Victoria teased.

      Katherine Marshall refused to rise to the bait. “I thought I might as well. Your father had to go up to Columbus on business, and you did say you wanted to do some refinishing work in the back on that new washstand you bought last week.”

      “Why СКАЧАТЬ