The Texas Billionaire's Bride / The Texas Bodyguard's Proposal: The Texas Billionaire's Bride. Crystal Green

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СКАЧАТЬ I love being a newlywed and having a barbecue master for a hubby.”

      “Then scram before he leaves you.”

      “Yes, sir.”

      With that, they ended the call, but it wasn’t two minutes later that Zane got another one.

      He didn’t mind, though. Business kept him going, gave him less time to think about everything else.

      He saw his youngest brother Travis’s number on the caller ID, so he donned his earpiece, left the study and went to the kitchen, since his stomach felt empty.

      “Hey, Trav,” Zane said as he walked down the dark hall. He knew every unlit step by heart. “You out on the range?”

      “Just got back in from seeing to some fences that needed fixing. I hear Jason told you about the McCords’ unwelcome interest in the ranch.”

      “That’s right.”

      “I already talked to him about the grand plan with Penny McCord. I don’t love this sneaking around Jason’s going to be doing with her,” he said, “but if it clears the air in any way, I’ll live with it.”

      He distrusted the McCords just the same as any of them, yet Travis was a cowboy, a loner, and loathed being distracted by what he thought to be less important matters, such as the other family’s “sniffing around.”

      “Jace and I didn’t want to go forward on anything without your knowing it,” Zane said, opening the fridge, discovering that it didn’t contain much more than a drop of milk in a carton, and several long-neck bottles of beer. He grabbed one of those and headed for a pantry cupboard.

      “Jason said the same thing.” Travis waited a beat, and Zane could hear the change in his voice as he switched gears. The less time he could dwell on the McCords, the better. “Aside from the drama, I hear you’ve got yourself a new nanny. Jason thinks you like her.”

      Zane almost dropped his beer, and it wasn’t just because Travis was being a smart-ass.

      It was because a bolt of contained need had shot through him, released from somewhere deep down, where he’d repressed the longing, thinking that it was useless.

      He recovered in time to say, “For Pete’s sake, do you two live in a middle-school locker room?”

      Travis laughed softly. “Just bustin’ your chops. But he did tell me that Livie’s finally going to have some dedicated company again. I have to say I’m glad for that, because I imagine she’s lonely over there.”

      Zane wrapped up all remainders of desire that he’d felt this afternoon, packing it tightly away at the mention of his daughter.

      Travis and Jason adored their niece, and occasionally they tried to let Zane know that he could improve his fatherly skills.

      But they didn’t understand how tough it was. They hadn’t lived with Danielle, hadn’t tried to keep it all together after her death.

      How could they understand Zane’s failures and his need to keep it from happening again with Livie?

      “Zane,” Travis said, clearly knowing that he was treading on thin ice, “I know the anniversary of Danielle’s death is coming up, and I’m sorry for broaching this again, but what’re you going to do about Livie?”

      “Stay out of this, Travis.”

      Every inch a Foley, his sibling did no such thing.

      “You think it’s a good idea to keep sweeping every mention of Danielle under the carpet?” his brother asked. “It’s not like Livie’s ever going to forget she had a mother. Your pretending as if Danielle never existed is only going to do more harm than good.”

      Zane’s temper crept up, squeezing his temples.

      But maybe “temper” was the wrong word. “Remorse” was more like it.

      “I don’t need to hear this from you,” he said.

      “Zane—”

      Unable to stand any more, he hung up on his brother and leaned against the cupboard in the darkness of his home, wanting to say he was sorry.

      And not just to Travis, either.

      At ten minutes to six, a bell clanged from downstairs, and Livie jumped up from her spot on the floor in her upstairs playroom, immediately beginning to tidy all the Barbies and stuffed animals she’d brought out.

      “Dinnertime,” the little girl said, as serious as ever.

      Melanie gathered the doll clothes, watching her charge bustle here and there, as if her life depended upon a spic-and-span performance. Once again, she felt for Livie, who’d actually began removing those stuffed animals bit by bit, until she’d opened a hole for herself to come through and get closer to Melanie.

      Of course, she’d done it slyly, as if her new nanny wouldn’t notice, and Melanie had played along, trying not to look too happy about even that bit of progress.

      Livie was so efficient that she had most of the stuffed toys back in place before Melanie had cleaned her own mess, and before she knew it, the little girl was standing at the side of the door, her back straight as she expectantly folded her hands in front of her.

      Melanie wasn’t sure what was happening until Livie said, “This is where you’re allowed to come in to make sure everything is in its place.”

       Oh. Right.

      But Melanie kept near the doorway, on her side of the invisible semicircle that the girl had created earlier with the stuffed animals. “Do you mind if I come in, Olivia?”

      The child gave Melanie a sidelong glance, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

      The hint of a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, revealing darling dimples, and she nodded. And went back to not smiling.

      Melanie didn’t mind, though; she entered the room, making sure all the dolls they’d played with were lined up on the shelves. She was tempted to mess them up ever so slightly, just because she wondered what Zane Foley would do if he saw the aberration, yet she resisted.

      “Top-notch job,” she said, turning around just in time to see Livie watching her, then quickly fix her gaze on a spot above Melanie’s head. “You’re a hard worker, aren’t you?”

      “Yes, Ms. Grandy.”

      She walked toward her charge, wishing she could rest her hand on Livie’s dark head or touch her shoulder, offering some reassurance.

      But sensing that this wouldn’t go over well—not just yet—she instead said, “Let’s get washed up and see what’s on the menu.”

      Livie spent one more second checking Melanie out, then spun around and dashed down the stairway.

      “Careful,” Melanie said, and the girl stopped, then slowed down, using the banister.

      But, СКАЧАТЬ