Название: Guarding the Heiress
Автор: Debra Webb
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежные любовные романы
isbn: 9781472075338
isbn:
Eddi suddenly stalled halfway to the big old front porch. What if the story about her biological father had already spread around town? If either of the men had told Ada…well, they didn’t call her “The Radio” for nothing.
Taking a deep breath for courage, Eddi marched up the steps and across the porch. She didn’t hesitate as she entered the front door and smiled as Ada herself looked up from the antique desk stationed in the entry hall that served as the reception area.
“Why, good afternoon, Eddi,” Ada crooned. “What brings you here?” Her pleasant smile instantly reversed into a scowl. “Did that confounded Jesse Partin call you about his toilet again? I swear I’m going to boot that man out yet. There’s not a blasted thing wrong with that toilet except he doesn’t flush it right. Gotta give this old plumbing a little TLC. You said so yourself the last time you were here.”
Eddi worked up a smile. “That’s right, Ms. Ada. But don’t worry, Mr. Partin didn’t call. I’m here to see your two out-of-town guests.”
One fine white eyebrow winged up her forehead. “You don’t say.” She studied Eddi with a critical eye for one long moment. “Which one you want to see? The young fella or the one in the fancy suit? I gave them the two best rooms we have. Surely neither of them has a complaint.”
Ignoring the ploy for information, Eddi said, “The young one.” She had noted a look of sympathy in the younger man’s eyes. She couldn’t say the same for the older guy. In fact, he gave her the willies.
Ada smiled conspiratorially. “First door on the right.”
Eddi nodded her thanks and quickly rounded the newel post to head up the staircase.
“Where’s your toolbox?” Ms. Ada asked abruptly.
Eddi stalled, considered her options and told the truth. “I won’t need my toolbox for this.”
“You tell that big-city fella he’s supposed to let me know when something’s not working,” Ada called after her.
“I sure will,” Eddi called back. She planned to tell him a great deal more than that, but Ada didn’t need to know.
She wanted him and his hotshot friend out of this town now.
Eddi knocked firmly on the door. She considered how strange fate could be. Only an hour or so ago she was in Ms. Ella’s kitchen listening to the matchmakers go on about her nonexistent social life and the handsome stranger in town. Little did she know that this stranger had come here to ruin her entire life.
Speak of the devil, he opened the door precisely then. Eddi held her ground, didn’t step back as her mind ordered when her gaze settled on the shoulder holster and mean-looking gun he wore. She would tell this guy the way it was and demand that he take his friend and go. Maybe confronting him wasn’t smart, especially considering the gun, but she had to do something.
“Miss Harper,” he said as if he hadn’t expected to see her. He glanced past her, then right and left. “You came alone?”
What’d he expect? A posse? Maybe she should have brought the police chief. Maybe someone official would carry more weight with a guy like this, but she was here now, might as well see her plan through.
“I’d like to talk to you.” She waited for him to step aside, but he didn’t. He just stared at her, which irritated Eddi all the more. “Privately.”
He looked surprised, but quickly recovered. “Of course.” He stepped back. “Come in.”
Eddi glanced around the room as the door closed behind her. A seating area with a small television was arranged at one end of the room and backlit by two double windows. On the opposite side of the room a queen-size bed flanked by tables and a lovely bureau filled the space. Between a homemade quilt on the bed and lacy curtains on the windows, the place looked downright comfortable with lots of homey touches. The perfect foil for a man who looked every bit the international spy the ladies in the Club had deemed him to be.
“Please have a seat,” the man suggested with a wave of his hand toward the overstuffed chairs arranged neatly around a small table.
The bottom abruptly dropped out of Eddi’s stomach. Her knees went weak once more. The fire that had sent her barging over here died like the hot coals of a family barbecue beneath an unexpected summer rain.
She sat down with as much decorum as a rock thrown from a mountaintop.
“Would you like me to order something to drink,” he offered. “I believe iced tea, lemonade and coffee are on the room-service menu.”
She shook her head. Told herself that her sudden loss of fortitude was the unexpected news her mother had broken, but some part of her knew that it was more than that. Yes, she was startled by what her mother had told her and infuriated that this man had come here to upset her life, but there was more. It was him. Something about him put her off balance.
Okay, enough madness, she railed silently. The thought of how much this story getting out would hurt both her father and her mother rekindled the fire that had so suddenly extinguished when she came face-to-face with this enigmatic stranger.
“Who are you?” she demanded. The first sensible thing she’d said since he opened the door.
He sat down adjacent to her, only with a great deal more grace than she had shown. His khaki slacks and blue shirt, even at this hour of the afternoon, looked as fresh and wrinkle free as if they’d just been professionally laundered. Just a hint of shadow darkened his chiseled jaw. And, of course, every perfect hair was in place. All in stark contrast to her plain, slightly disheveled appearance.
“My name is Doug Cooper,” he said quietly. His voice was rich and smooth, but laced with sincerity and even what sounded like kindness. “I’m with the Colby Agency, a private investigation agency based in Chicago.”
Another jolt of confusion shattered the last of her rational thought. What in the world would a private investigation agency want with her? The answer struck as quickly as the question had. The D’Martines were wealthy. They had obviously hired someone to find her and her mother. At least that explained the gun.
“What do you want?”
The words came out just as emotionlessly as she had intended them. Her whole mind and body felt oddly numb. She wanted to rant and rave…and cry…but the energy to do so was curiously absent.
“Your mother told you about your biological father,” he suggested.
She was glad he used the term “biological father” since Harvey Harper was her father, and nothing, certainly not genetics, was going to change that. “Yes.”
Mr. Cooper nodded once and actually looked relieved. Eddi didn’t even try to figure that one out.
“Then СКАЧАТЬ