Claim Me, Cowboy. Maisey Yates

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      “Yes,” she returned. “Baggage is another thing entirely. But in terms of bags, yeah, we travel light.”

      “Let me get it.” He turned and walked out of the room, frustrated when he heard her footsteps behind him. “I said I would get it.”

      “You don’t need to,” she said, following him persistently down the stairs and out toward the front door.

      “My car is locked,” she added, and he ignored her as he continued to walk across the driveway to the maroon monstrosity parked there.

      He shot her a sideways glance, then looked down at the car door. It hung a little bit crooked, and he lifted up on it hard enough to push it straight, then he jerked it open. “Not well.”

      “You’re the worst,” she said, scowling.

      He reached into the back seat and saw one threadbare duffel bag, which had to be the bag she was talking about. The fabric strap was dingy, and he had a feeling it used to be powder blue. The zipper was broken and there were four safety pins holding the end of the bulging bag together. All in all, it looked completely impractical.

      “Empty all the contents out of this tonight. In the morning, I’m going to use it to fuel a bonfire.”

      “It’s the only bag I have.”

      “I’ll buy you a new one.”

      “It better be in addition to the fee that I’m getting,” she said, her expression stubborn. “I mean it. If I incur a loss because of you, you better cover it.”

      “You have my word that if anything needs to be purchased in order for you to fit in with your surroundings, or in order for me to avoid contracting scabies, it will be bankrolled by me.”

      “I don’t have scabies,” she said, looking fierce.

      “I didn’t say you did. I implied that your gym bag might.”

      “Well,” she said, her cheeks turning red, “it doesn’t. It’s clean. I’m clean.”

      He heaved the bag over his shoulder and led the way back to the house, Danielle trailing behind him like an angry wood nymph. That was what she reminded him of, he decided. All pointed angles and spiky intensity. And a supernaturally wicked glare that he could feel boring into the center of his back. Right between his shoulder blades.

      This was not a woman who intimidated easily, if at all.

      He supposed that was signal enough that he should make an attempt to handle her with care. Not because she needed it, but because clearly nobody had ever made the attempt before. But he didn’t know how. And he was paying her an awful lot to put up with him as he was.

      And she had brought a baby into his house.

      “You’re going to need some supplies,” he said, frowning. Because he abruptly realized what it meant that she had brought a baby into his house. The bedroom he had installed her in was only meant for one. And there was no way—barring the unlikely reality that she was related to Mary Poppins in some way—that her ratty old bag contained the supplies required to keep both a baby and herself in the kind of comfort that normal human beings expected.

      “What kind of supplies?”

      He moved quickly through the house, and she scurried behind him, attempting to match his steps. They walked back into the bedroom and he flung the bag on the ground.

      “A bed for the baby. Beyond that, I don’t know what they require.”

      She shot him a deadly glare, then bent down and unzipped the bag, pulling out a bottle and a can of formula. She tossed both onto the bed, then reached back into the bag and grabbed a blanket. She spread it out on the floor, then set the baby in the center of it.

      Then she straightened, spreading her arms wide and slapping her hands back down on her thighs. “Well, this is more than we’ve had for a long time. And yeah, I guess it would be nice to have nursery stuff. But I’ve never had it. Riley and I have been doing just fine on our own.” She looked down, picking at some dirt beneath her fingernail. “Or I guess we haven’t been fine. If we had, I wouldn’t have responded to your ad. But I don’t need more than what I have. Not now. Once you pay me? Well, I’m going to buy a house. I’m going to change things for us. But until then, it doesn’t matter.”

      He frowned. “What about Riley’s father? Surely he should be paying you some kind of support.”

      “Right. Like I have any idea who he is.” He must have made some kind of facial expression that seemed judgmental, because her face colored and her eyebrows lowered. “I mean, I don’t know how to get in touch with him. It’s not like he left contact details. And I sincerely doubt he left his real name.”

      “I’ll call our office assistant, Poppy. She’ll probably know what you need.” Technically, Poppy was his brother Isaiah’s assistant, but she often handled whatever Joshua or Faith needed, as well. Poppy would arrange it so that various supplies were overnighted to the house.

      “Seriously. Don’t do anything... You don’t need to do anything.”

      “I’m supposed to convince my parents that I’m marrying you,” he said, his tone hard. “I don’t think they’re going to believe I’m allowing my fiancée to live out of one duffel bag. No. Everything will have to be outfitted so that it looks legitimate. Consider it a bonus to your salary.”

      She tilted her chin upward, her eyes glittering. “Okay, I will.”

      He had halfway expected her to argue, but he wasn’t sure why. She was here for her own material gain. Why would she reduce it? “Good.” He nodded once. “You probably won’t see much of me. I’ll be working a lot. We are going to have dinner with my parents in a couple of days. Until then, the house and the property are yours to explore. This is your house too. For the time being.”

      He wasn’t being particularly generous. It was just that he didn’t want to answer questions, or deal with her being tentative about where she might and might not be allowed to go. He just wanted to install her and the baby in this room and forget about them until he needed them as convenient props.

      “Really?” Her natural suspicion was shining through again.

      “I’m a very busy man, Ms. Kelly,” he said. “I’m not going to be babysitting. Either the child or you.”

      And with that, he turned and left her alone.

       Three

      Danielle had slept fitfully last night. And, of course, she hadn’t actually left her room once she had been put there. But early the next morning there had been a delivery. And the signature they had asked for was hers. And then the packages had started to come in, like a Christmas parade without the wrapping.

      Teams of men carried the boxes up the stairs. They had assembled a crib, a chair, and then unpacked various baby accoutrements that Danielle hadn’t even known existed. How could she? She certainly hadn’t expected to end up caring for a baby.

      When СКАЧАТЬ