The Acquired Bride. Teresa Southwick
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Название: The Acquired Bride
Автор: Teresa Southwick
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon Vintage Cherish
isbn: 9781472080240
isbn:
He grabbed it. When he turned toward the light, the delicate handle hit the shelf and broke off. Then he dropped the bell and it shattered against the base of the cabinet.
“Oh,” Dana said. “Oh, no.”
Quentin stepped in. He gently moved the children away from the broken glass. “Don’t touch,” he warned quietly. “The pieces are sharp. They can cut you. Are you all okay?” They nodded, but he scanned them quickly and didn’t see any blood, so he figured no one had been hit by flying glass.
Lukie stared up at him with a contrite expression that looked awfully familiar. “Sorry, Mr. Mac.”
“Accidents happen, buddy.” He stooped and picked up the pieces of crystal.
When he met Dana’s gaze, he realized she was more fragile than the bell. Her gray eyes shimmered. “I’ll bet that cost at least as much as my monthly grocery bill,” she said.
Close, he thought. But how did she know its value? If she was on a tight budget, would she have any idea what the replacement price was?
She bent and took Lukie’s arm. “Son, that was a no-no. I asked you not to touch Mr. Mac’s things. No cartoons after supper,” she said sternly. “Straight to bed.”
“No, Mommy.” The little boy’s mouth quivered. Then he started to cry.
The next thing Quentin knew, Molly and Kelly were sobbing. Dana looked at him helplessly. “I’m so sorry. Somehow, I’ll make it up to you. I wonder how many cookies I’ll have to bake. I—I have to g-go—”
“Don’t cry, Dana.” Quentin moved toward her and reached out a hand to comfort her.
She backed away. “Please don’t touch me. I have just about enough self-control to make it home with the triplets before I lose it. But if you’re nice to me, that time frame c-could be c-considerably shorter.”
He pulled her into his arms and felt her body shake. He heard a sob before she put a hand over her mouth.
“M-mommy? Sorry, Mommy. Don’t cwy,” Lukie said, burying his face in his mother’s leg. The girls followed suit.
Group hug? Quentin thought ruefully. He disengaged himself from the crying quartet and pressed the intercom for his secretary.
“Yes?”
“Doleen, I could use your assistance.”
“Right away.”
The next moment his door opened and super-efficient Doleen Powell walked in. Short, brunette, and wearing wire-rimmed spectacles, she was a bundle of energy. “How can I help, Quentin?”
“What would it take to coax the children into your office?” he asked.
“Food.” She glanced at her watch and nodded. “It’s after six. They’re probably hungry and tired. Can’t do anything about bedtime, but I could call for a pizza.”
“Pizza?” Lukie said, anticipation chasing the tears from his eyes.
“I like pizza,” Molly said. Kelly nodded enthusiastically.
Doleen smiled. “Do I know kids or what?”
“There will be something special in your Christmas bonus this year,” Quentin said more grateful than he could say.
“There always is, boss,” she answered. She looked at the kids. “You guys want to help me call for the pizza?” When they nodded, she held her arm out toward the door and said, “Come into my office.”
The three children ran to the door. As she ushered them through it, Doleen said, “Your mom is going to talk to Mr. McCormack for a few minutes while we have pizza in here. Is that okay with you guys?”
“Yay,” they said together just before the door closed.
Quentin looked at Dana. Tears streaked her face. Red rimmed her eyes. She sniffled loudly. And God help him, she’d never looked more beautiful. He went to her and pulled her back into his arms. Sobs shook her.
“I—I warned you not to touch me.”
“No guts no glory,” he said as lightly as he could with his heart beating like crazy. She felt so delicate, so fragile—so soft, so warm. Completely wonderful. He didn’t know how, but he knew this breakdown was not her style.
Her tears dampened the front of his blue dress shirt. “There’s never a raincoat around when you need one.”
“Not again,” she said trying to pull away.
“That was a joke, Dana. Lighten up. Cut yourself some slack. You’re a single mom. Three kids would be a handful for two parents.”
Instead of helping, his words sent her into another crying spell. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. He rubbed her back and whispered meaningless words meant to comfort and reassure.
When she was finally quiet against him, except for an occasional hiccup, he said, “Now, I think it’s time you told me what’s really going on.”
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