His Temporary Live-in Wife. Susan Crosby
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Название: His Temporary Live-in Wife

Автор: Susan Crosby

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Контркультура

Серия: Mills & Boon Cherish

isbn: 9781408978399

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ out who did it sometime today. We’ll, we’re on our way to mommy-and-me swim class. I’ll talk to you later.”

      Check, check, check, Marcy thought. Annie might be slightly on the young side, but she was the best candidate so far for Eric. Marcy would try to get more info on her later today. Of course, being next-door neighbors could be too complicated, especially if they dated then it didn’t work out.

      When Marcy got back to the kitchen she stopped and stared. She hadn’t noticed earlier that the dishes had been done. There hadn’t been many, but the counter was clean. It shouldn’t have been.

      Which meant someone had been inside the house. During the night. While she slept.

      The doorbell rang, heralding the arrival of the window washers, who planned to be there for hours, as would the painters, finishing up two upstairs rooms. She welcomed the distraction. The moving company had called yesterday to say she could expect the van to arrive around ten. Marcy had contacted the interior designer, passing along that news.

      Everyone should be gone by the time she headed to her regular weekend waitress job. Even being on her feet all night would seem like a vacation after this week.

      On the other hand, her checkbook was going to be very happy, especially her tuition fund.

      A couple hours later, one of the window washers pointed out a broken lock on a dining room window, not the one she’d had repaired, but the window next to it. She’d never noticed. It appeared locked, but actually wasn’t latching into anything, a section of the latch having been broken or cut away. The window slid up and down with little effort.

      One more item for her to-do list. One more thing to worry about on her last day and night.

      She examined the dining-room floor, looking for evidence that someone had broken in. Since she’d been watering the yard every day, it was muddy outside the window now. Anyone who climbed through the window would’ve had mud on their shoes. She found nothing, however.

      How could she possibly come back here after her shift tonight? It would be well past midnight, and the house dark and empty, and easy to break into. Apparently had already been broken into. Would Eric be angry if she didn’t spend the night?

      Probably, especially now that his personal belongings would be delivered.

      Okay then. She would just have to stay awake. She had a cell phone and a can of pepper spray.

      She could handle anything.

      Eric had come to appreciate his GPS more than ever on his trip across America. Not only did he know where he was going and how to get there, he also easily found hotels, gas stations and restaurants.

      But also because of the unit’s efficiency, he knew exactly how many hours of driving he had ahead of him. Which tonight prompted a big decision. It was ten o’clock. He was three hours out of Davis, California, his ultimate destination. He’d been on the road most of the day. Usually by now he was settled into a hotel room and asleep.

       It’s only three hours. You could sleep in your own bed tonight.

      But could he stay awake? Was it worth the exhaustion?

      Yes. He would be home. He would be too restless if he went to a hotel now, anyway.

      He dialed Marcy’s phone but only reached her voice mail. Maybe she’d already gone to bed. She’d had a long, busy day, he knew.

      “Marcy, it’s Eric,” he said. “I just wanted to alert you that I’ll be arriving around 1:00 a.m. Didn’t want to catch you by surprise. When you get this message, please call me back. Thanks.”

      A little under three hours later, he pulled into his driveway and parked in front of his detached garage, assuming Marcy’s car was inside it. The house was dark. She hadn’t returned his call, so he figured she was asleep.

      Hesitant about giving her a shock, he approached the front door quietly, key in hand. He checked his phone in case she’d called back and he hadn’t heard it ring, but there weren’t any messages.

      Should he call her again now, before he went inside, so that if she woke up she wouldn’t think he was an intruder? What if she kept a gun for protection?

      He dialed, figuring it was better to startle her out of sleep than come face-to-face with her. They’d never seen each other. She could scream, wake the neighbors, get the police involved….

      Still no answer. He hung up without leaving a message.

      He slid his key into the lock, opened the door slowly. He didn’t turn on any lights, a streetlamp in front of his house and his porch light offering enough illumination to see where he was going.

      His furniture was in place but boxes were stacked to one side. He walked down the hall and into the dining room, stopping cold when he saw one window partially open.

      She’d gone to bed with the window open? What an idiotic—

      A slight noise reached him. He spun around. Someone was nearby. Marcy? No, she wouldn’t tiptoe….

      Was she all right?

      He rushed from the room and down the hall in time to see someone reach the front door. Eric picked up speed. The person flung open the door and ran out … and crashed into someone—Marcy, Eric decided, hearing a woman yelp. Knocked to the ground, she’d slowed the intruder’s escape long enough for Eric to grab him and slam him against the side of the house, driving his shoulder into him to prevent him from going anywhere. A kid, Eric thought. A teenager, maybe only seventeen.

      “Eric?” Marcy asked breathlessly, warily. She stood up and backed off at the same time. She was looking at him as if he was the bad guy.

      The kid tried to wriggle away. Eric pushed him harder into the siding and grunted. “Yes, I’m Eric,” he said to Marcy, who looked nothing like he’d expected. He’d imagined her as young and petite. She was close to thirty, he decided, above average in height, with generous curves and long, wild, auburn hair.

      She smiled a little, shaky but sassy, too. “Welcome to California.” She pointed at the boy. “That’s Dylan. He’s looking for work.”

      “You know him? You invited him to stay in my house without asking me?”

      “Of course not. I have no idea how he got inside.”

      “Through the window you left open,” Eric said.

      She frowned. “What window?”

      “In the dining room. Wide open.”

      “I didn’t, I promise you. The lock—”

      “Let’s take this inside.” He would deal with her incompetence later. He didn’t want his new neighbors observing this scene as their introduction.

      Eric maneuvered the teenager into the living room and onto a chair then stood over him. Marcy followed, turning on lights. The boy was tall and skinny, with dirty brown hair and eyes teeming with belligerence.

      Great, Eric thought. Just what I needed tonight.

      “Do СКАЧАТЬ