Married By Midnight. Judith Stacy

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СКАЧАТЬ morning.” Nick lurched to his feet, catching the newspaper before it slipped to the floor.

      A few seconds passed while Amanda just stood there, as if reluctant to enter the room. Finally, she did.

      “I see you’ve dressed for breakfast,” she said.

      Nick stepped away from the table, looked down and tapped his toes on the floor. “Shoes and socks this time.”

      She glanced down and he could have sworn her cheeks colored. Odd reaction to his feet, he thought.

      Nick held the chair to his immediate right, and Amanda lowered herself into it. He lingered for a moment, looking down at her, held captive by the long line of her neck, the loose curls of her fine hair, her slim shoulders and the scent that wafted up.

      “Is something wrong?” Amanda asked, turning her head to look back at him.

      “No, nothing,” Nick said, fearing that he’d moaned aloud or something. He gave her a quick smile.

      She smiled, too—a lovely, shy little smile. Nick dropped into his chair and picked up his napkin. It seemed a good idea to have something over his lap at the moment.

      The servant came in again and poured juice at Amanda’s request. She declined a hot breakfast, preferring pastries and fruit from the platter already on the table.

      “Don’t let me disturb you,” she said to Nick, nodding toward the newspaper beside his plate.

      He was quite certain nothing the Times reported today could be as interesting as the woman seated at his elbow.

      “No, it’s all right. I can read later—”

      But before he could finish his sentence, Amanda pulled a tiny tablet and the nub of a pencil from her skirt pocket and turned her attention to them.

      For some reason, that didn’t quite suit him. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you earlier,” he said.

      “It’s all right.”

      “It’s been a long time.”

      “Yes, it has.” She glanced up at him, then turned back to her tablet once more.

      “Yes, it has,” he echoed, and couldn’t help but think he was usually better at talking to women than this.

      “How’s your family?” Nick asked.

      “Quite well, thank you.”

      A few more minutes dragged by.

      “Are you planning to be in town long?” he asked.

      “No,” Amanda said. “I’ll be going home immediately after the wedding.”

      Nick wasn’t certain what he was doing wrong. He’d never had to work this hard at conversation in his life.

      Generally, women fell all over him, hanging on his every word, giggling at his jokes. This one, however, didn’t seem to care if he sat here with her or not. Somehow, that made him try harder.

      “I guess you’ll help out with all the last-minute wedding preparations today?” he asked.

      That got a bigger response from Amanda than he’d elicited so far, but it wasn’t favorable. She cringed, held up her hand as if to ward off the possibility, and gave herself a little shake.

      “I fear that will be my doom—destiny,” she said, and turned back to her tablet.

      Nick was about to run out of small talk. Maybe if he knew what his competition was, he’d be better able to hold her attention, he decided.

      He tilted his head to get a look at the tablet she was writing on, and saw that she’d made a list of some sort.

      Probably some litany of the inane things women spent their time on. Nick leaned closer, unable not to. Lord, she smelled delightful. Lavender or something.

      Just then Amanda sat back and frowned. She gave a breathy little sigh.

      “Is something wrong?” he asked, glancing from her tablet to her face again.

      Surely something was amiss. The fact was obvious from the look on her face—the lines of concentration, the frown. How endearing she looked, probably worried over some shopping problem she faced today. Nick wondered at the workings of the feminine mind. The smallest things threw them.

      Amanda tapped her pencil against her bottom lip. Nick shifted in his chair.

      “I might be able to help,” he offered, dragging his gaze away from her mouth.

      She laid her pencil aside. “Do you know anything about concrete?”

      He stilled, then leaned back. “Concrete?”

      “Yes, concrete. It’s used in construction to form—”

      “I know what concrete is.” He looked down at her tablet. “Why do you want to know?”

      “I’m going to erect a building.”

      His frowned. “You’re going to do what?”

      “Erect a building.”

      Nick just stared at her, not sure he’d understood her correctly.

      “I’m going to erect a building,” Amanda said again. “Erect. A. Building. Erect. Are you understanding this?”

      “I assure you, I have firsthand knowledge of erec—never mind.” Nick drew in a breath. “Why are you…putting up a building?”

      “It’s a long story,” Amanda said, picking up her pencil again, “and not a very interesting one, really.”

      The servant came into the room and served Nick his breakfast. He picked up his fork and bit into the eggs.

      “Go ahead. Tell me. I’d like to hear all about it,” Nick said. “Are you building a flower shop? A dress shop, maybe? Or one of those hat places where women like to wile away the afternoon?”

      “I’m building a refuge for women with children who’ve been abandoned by their husbands.”

      Nick froze, staring at her. He knew he should say something, but couldn’t think of a darned thing. Anyway, it was almost impossible to speak with his foot buried so deeply in his mouth.

      “All is well. All is going as planned,” Constance announced as she breezed into the breakfast room. “Today I’m going to—”

      “I have to go, Mother,” Nick said, rising from his chair, glad to be interrupted before he made an even bigger fool of himself in front of Amanda—though he didn’t know how that would be possible.

      “But don’t you want to hear about the wedding plans?” Constance asked, as if she couldn’t imagine why he wouldn’t. “The florist is coming over today—”

      “I’ll СКАЧАТЬ