Having His Child. Amy J. Fetzer
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Название: Having His Child
Автор: Amy J. Fetzer
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon Desire
isbn: 9781408941737
isbn:
Then he’d be as alone as he was the day his mother dropped him off at school and never came back.
“Thank you for calling in.”
“No, thank you,” the woman said on the other end of the phone line, then hung up.
Angela smiled, thinking that she at least helped somebody’s love life tonight as she leaned toward the microphone.
“You’re listening to KROC radio and this is AJ at Midnight, keeping you company till the sun shines on the low country.” She turned the dial and the country music went over the air and the light went off on her console. She sank into her chair, closing her eyes. Just for a second, she reminded herself. One minute was all she needed. Lord, she didn’t think she’d ever been this tired and she didn’t know how much longer she could do two jobs and keep up. Late nights on the radio she could handle. It was rushing to Lucas’s place to make like a temporary wife, so she could be a mother, that she couldn’t. It was almost ironic if she thought on the matter long enough. But it wasn’t the work, it was the hours. She was awake nearly twenty hours in a day. But she needed the money. And she needed some extra sleep.
Her body clock wouldn’t let her, it was so twisted.
She’d turned down two dinner dates this week, knowing she wouldn’t make it past the entrée. Falling in her dinner would make a real good impression, she thought, not that she was really that interested. The entire time she was with some new man, she silently compared him to Lucas. It was irritating, and she considered why she found her latest dates lacking. Was it because she didn’t trust her dates and the only man beyond her father she did trust was Lucas? Or was it simply that she didn’t have to get to know him, and the whole process of showing your best side, then finding out the things that drive women crazy later felt like more of a chore than an exciting pleasure? Or did it all lie in her heart? The unexpected spin of unfamiliar thoughts and feelings, each leading to Lucas, made her brows tighten. And her heartbeat race. A second later a light tap on the glass made her flinch. She jerked upright and glared at her too-young producer. David stood in his cubicle directly across from her, frowning, and then switched on the intercom while country music played over the airwaves.
“Wake up, Angela. You’re back in two minutes.”
She yawned, nodding.
“What’s with you? You look like hell.”
“Gee, I can always count on you for compliments, huh, Dave?”
He blushed. “I meant—”
She waved him off. “I know what you meant. And I do look in the mirror on occasion, you know.” Angela poured more coffee into her mug, sipped, then leaned back in the chair as the song faded. She spoke into the mike, her voice soft, her drawl deep and soothing for the people listening at this hour. They should all be asleep, for pity’s sake.
When her shift was over, she left the studio, drove very carefully home and decided a shower would work miracles. She had to get Luc’s place done before he came home. Since she’d been doing it for the past two weeks, it was clean, and there was little to do but maintain. An early night, she thought, and she would leave a message that she wouldn’t be working tomorrow. It was Chinese take-out and video night with Lucas. One of the few times she got to see him. And she needed some rest.
A couple hours later, she finished her job and was scribbling a note, attempting to disguise her handwriting, when she heard his car pull into the driveway. She looked up, and panic seized her when she realized she was close to being discovered. She swept the first drafts of the notes into her pocket, gathered her things and ran to the back door. She heard his key in the lock just as she was closing the rear door. She didn’t take a breath till she was driving on the next road over.
Lucas walked into the kitchen, frowning when he caught the scent of perfume. The fragrance was vaguely familiar, and he called out, but didn’t get an answer. This was driving him nuts. Plain crazy, he thought. Curiosity was a deadly thing for a man alone, and his was hammering at him constantly. Who was she? Who was this woman who cooked his favorite meals and knew which wine he liked best? He glanced at the table elegantly set for one. It seemed ridiculous to bother just for him. But this woman did. She left little touches of herself all over the house; hand towels and napkins folded like swans, his mail neatly stacked on his desk, potpourri bowls discreetly hidden yet giving off their cinnamon scent. Even his cereal boxes were stored according to height. That made him smile.
He didn’t think anyone in the world did that except him and Angela.
He saw the note and read it, frowning. Ah, fend for yourself tomorrow, he thought. It was just as well. He was having dinner with Angela. Their Chinese take-out and movie night seemed to be the only time he got to see her, talk with her. Yet as he served up the meal his wife for hire had left warming in the Crock-Pot, Lucas wondered if it was wise to be alone with Angela.
In the dark.
On a sofa.
But he couldn’t let her know that his friendship and mild attraction for her had developed into something far more dangerous.
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