The Soldier's Legacy. GINA WILKINS

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ never promised ice cream,” Jade challenged with a lifted eyebrow.

      “I said maybe.” Undiscouraged, Erin forged on, “Anyway, it’ll be fun. So, want to come?”

      “Thank you, Erin, but I really shouldn’t. I have work to do here, and I hate to leave Trevor while he’s recuperating.” Still, Mary Pat looked pleased by the invitation. “Maybe I’ll shop with you another time.”

      “We’ll give you a rain check.” Erin had only recently learned the term, and she used it confidently.

      Mary Pat chuckled. “I’ll gladly take it.”

      When they’d finished eating, Jade sent the kids upstairs to brush their teeth and find their shoes for the outing. “Let me help you clean up, Mary Pat,” she said after they scampered away. She reached for the gravy bowl, which was still more than half-full, even though everyone had eaten heartily.

      “Oh, I’ve got this. But you can do me another favor, if you don’t mind.”

      “Name it.”

      “Will you take a tray in to Trevor while I put away the rest of the food? I told him he’d be getting breakfast in his room so he’s expecting it, even if the grouch won’t admit he’s hungry.”

      Jade wished fleetingly that Mary Pat had just asked her to scrub the kitchen floor, instead. She told herself that was a silly thought. She was hardly intimidated by Trevor. There was no reason for her to avoid being alone with him. She knew how to deal with grumpy men, so she could handle Trevor even if he was in a bad mood—though she doubted that his habitual courtesy would allow him to be anything but polite to a guest. From her own few observations and everything she’d heard from mutual acquaintances, he had elevated hosting to an art form, which was part of what made his resorts so successful and his investors so willing to gamble on him. “Yes, I’ll take it.”

      “Thanks, hon.” Mary Pat gathered the gravy bowl and biscuit plate. “I’d hate for these good leftovers to go to waste.”

      Five minutes later, Jade juggled a heavily loaded tray so she could rap lightly on the door of Trevor’s suite. Judging by the weight of the tray, Mary Pat hadn’t believed Trevor’s claims that he wasn’t hungry. Though the food was beneath covers, it felt like enough to feed two or three men.

      She couldn’t help thinking of her brief visit with him last night. Even disheveled in shorts and T-shirt, grumpy and hurting, he’d been undeniably all virile male. Disconcerting so. Perhaps she’d been too strongly reminded of all the times she’d tended her husband after he’d injured himself in one of his daredevil sports.

      She’d loved Stephen madly, but she’d never fully understood why he’d been so willing to risk breaking his neck just to challenge himself, to the worry of everyone who loved him. For a moment, she almost pitied any woman who’d let herself fall for charming, often reckless Trevor. But then again, she suspected he’d be a hard man to resist for any woman who hadn’t already lived through that constant anxiety.

      Hearing muffled words she interpreted as “Come in,” she balanced the tray with one arm as she opened the door. The sitting area was empty, so she followed sounds to the attached office, a sunny room equipped with what appeared to be state-of-the-art technology. The office door was open and she could see Trevor sitting at his desk, his back to her as he worked a keyboard, making spreadsheets and other forms flash across the monitor in front of him.

      “I told you I’m not hungry, Mary Pat. My damn leg is killing me and I have a hundred things to do. I’ll eat in a while.”

      He was definitely cranky, Jade thought with raised eyebrows. It was the first time she’d ever heard him snap. And it said even more about his close relationship with his housekeeper that he allowed himself to be less than proper and professional in front of her.

      “I’m not Mary Pat, but I suspect she’ll be in shortly to make sure you’ve eaten despite your objections.”

      He spun his chair in response to her voice, then grimaced when the sudden movement obviously caused him pain. He schooled his expression immediately, settling his features into what she’d come to think of as his “gracious host face.” She rather regretted that he felt the need to hide behind it with her when she’d begun to think of them as friends.

      “Jade. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so rude. Thanks for bringing a tray. You can just set it there. I’ll eat when I’ve finished reading this report.”

      The table he pointed to sat in front of a small sofa positioned between two bookcases. Like the cases in his sitting area, this one was also filled almost to capacity with books that looked well-read, she noted as she set down the tray with care. She always appreciated a fellow book lover.

      Absently rubbing his right knee, he tilted his head toward her, still in apologetic mode. “I told Mary Pat I’d just have an apple or something for breakfast, but she’s determined to stuff me with food every chance she gets. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised she recruited you to make the delivery.”

      “I didn’t mind. How’s your leg this morning?”

      “It’s better, thanks.”

      Jade placed her hands on her hips and merely looked at him.

      After a moment, he sighed faintly, sounding just perceptibly cross again when he conceded, “Okay, it hurts. And before you go all Nurse Jade on me, I had it propped up earlier. Just put it down for a while so I could get some work done.”

      “I didn’t come in to nag you,” she assured him. “I just brought your breakfast. You’re a grown-ass man. Whether you eat—or elevate your leg—it’s entirely up to you.”

      Her pointed retort seemed to catch him by surprise. After a brief pause, he laughed sheepishly. “Sorry. Believe it or not, I’m usually much more gracious to my guests than that. I have no excuse.”

      “This is your home, Trevor, not your resort,” she reminded him. “And I’m a friend, not a guest. So, don’t feel that you have to pretend for me that everything is just hunky-dory.”

      “Hunky-dory?” He chuckled. “Haven’t heard that term in a while.”

      She smiled. “Something my grandmother said frequently. I find myself quoting her a lot these days.”

      “I know the feeling. I hear myself sounding a lot like my dad at times, even though I’ve spent most of my life trying to be different.”

      Maybe he realized suddenly how that could be interpreted. “My dad’s a great guy, of course,” he added. “I’ve always just wanted to explore my own paths, rather than follow in the family footsteps.”

      His family’s fortune came from three or four generations of hotels and other real estate dealings, she mused. Did he really think establishing a chain of resorts was such a different path? Rather amused by what seemed to be his idea of rebellion, she spoke lightly. “I suppose we’re all influenced by family ultimately. Heaven only knows what my kids will pick up from me.”

      She thought he relaxed with the quip, as though relieved by the redirection. “Nothing to worry about there, I’m sure.”

      “Well, I have been known to let the S-word slip out in front of them when СКАЧАТЬ