Buch lesen: «The Baby Arrangement»

For Lila, one of the many strong women in my life

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

HOW WAS BREE TUCKER supposed to relax and kick back when she’d been so obviously abandoned?

She couldn’t figure out where the heck her friend Roxie had gone. She scanned the other people around the tiki bar once more with no luck. She and Roxie had come over to order drinks, and now she was nowhere in sight.

Thinking she’d walk around the bar to the other side, Bree took a step back from the bar without looking. She immediately tripped over something and gasped as she fell backward. Somehow she ended up in someone’s strong arms instead of butt-first in the sand.

Her gasp had heads turning in her direction. Great. She’d managed to attract unwanted attention from the mostly men around the bar. She turned her head to see who’d caught her, and her gaze collided with a pair of deep brown eyes with long, dark lashes. She blinked and slowly disengaged herself from him.

“Are you okay?” He was probably the nicest-looking man she’d seen since arriving on Isla de la Blanca earlier in the week for a working vacation with her girlfriends slash coworkers.

“Yes, I’m fine. And thank you for catching me. I’m sorry about that.” She straightened her bright blue romper and tossed back her long hair. “I’m not usually that clumsy.”

Her rescuer smiled, his eyes twinkling. A neatly trimmed dark beard set off perfectly straight white teeth. “It was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention, and my legs got in your way. I’m the one who should apologize.”

“But I shouldn’t have stepped back without looking.”

“Let’s call it a draw,” he suggested.

“Deal,” she said, then looked around again for her friend. “Have you seen a redhead? I’ve misplaced my friend Roxie.”

He shook his head. “I haven’t seen her.”

She whirled around as she checked out the nearby area again. She shielded her eyes from the glare of the setting sun off the clear azure water of the Caribbean Sea. “Did anyone see where my friend went?” she asked the men around the bar. “She’s got red hair and is wearing a dark green top with white shorts.”

She’d been well aware that the guys hanging out at the tiki bar had been paying a lot of attention to her, whether they were actually speaking to her or merely ogling. So she decided to use that to her advantage in locating Roxie.

“I’ll be happy to help you find her,” a sloppy drunk propped on a bamboo bar stool told her with a crooked grin before he belched and reached out to her, nearly falling off his perch.

Bree took a step back. “That’s okay, I’m sure I—”

“She has all the help she needs,” said an older man who appeared from nowhere, his Jimmy Buffett Parrot Head affiliation obvious from his Hawaiian shirt and straw hat with a Margaritaville button attached. “At your service, ma’am.” He stepped forward abruptly, his drink sloshing over the rim of his glass.

“She’s fine,” her rescuer growled from behind her. He took Bree’s elbow. “She doesn’t need anyone’s help.” Before Bree could say a word, the man guided her away from the bar and maneuvered them through the growing number of people looking for fun.

“Hey, come back here!” called several of the men left behind.

“Wait! Where are you taking me?” Bree stumbled in the sand and nearly lost a sandal. She jerked her arm away when they were barely fifteen feet from the bar, hopping on one foot while she tried to adjust her shoe. “Stop already!”

“I was getting you out of an uncomfortable situation,” he explained.

“What do you mean?” She could hold her own with a bunch of drunks. “What uncomfortable situation?”

“Those men back there,” he muttered, jerking his head in their direction. “Didn’t you see how they were looking at you?”

“So what?”

He continued. “You’re a woman alone with a bunch of drunk and gawking men.”

“And?”

“And some might get the wrong idea.”

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and squinted at him. “The wrong idea?”

He shook his head. “You really have no idea what kind of signals you’re giving off, do you?”

She was doing no such thing. “So I’m supposed to be comforted by your macho manhandling of me for my own good?” She scowled. “Dragging me away to this secluded area where you can do whatever you want to me just because I might have tugged at my ear or scratched my leg in a way that turned you on?”

In truth, they were anything but secluded, with people barely a few feet away, but she wasn’t about to admit that she’d possibly overreacted.

“How do I know you’re not the one I should be worried about?” she said. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Believe me, my intentions were honorable.” He cocked his head and shrugged. “I’m sorry if I misread the situation.” He turned to leave without a backward glance.

Good riddance, she thought as she watched him walk away. Too bad Sir Condescension thought he had to play hero, even if his overt sexiness made him extremely appealing.

Oh, well. She didn’t need him sticking around, even if she had promised her girlfriends she’d try to be more open to meeting new people while on this working vacation. She just didn’t need a know-it-all jerk.

Who was she kidding? At thirty-three years old, she avoided new relationships altogether. Period. She had enough people in her life, even if none of them happened to be a love interest.

Her girlfriends might think she needed a vacation fling, but this latest encounter proved Bree had been right all along. Her time would be better spent on her company’s future, the only thing she truly cared about besides her girlfriends.

Bree searched again for Roxie and the others, the crowd growing more raucous as the sun all but disappeared and the tiki torches were lit. A pig had been roasting on a spit since early last evening and when she inhaled the scent in the air now, her stomach growled. She had to find the girls and then get some food.

Isla de la Blanca, off the Puerto Rican coast and named for its pure white sandy beaches, had been her coworkers’ choice of a working vacation spot, not Bree’s. Although, she had to admit, she hadn’t gotten tired of the constant seventy-eight-degree weather and sunshine. So different from January in their hometown of Arlington, Virginia, where highs of forty-five degrees were sarcastically called balmy.

Her best girlfriends had all spent their free time this week getting massages and facials, frequenting the small shops and kiosks in the tiny village, as well as discovering the island’s vibrant nightlife. After much coercion, and since they’d accomplished their work goals, Bree had finally agreed to put her job aside and join them tonight. At least for a little while. She still had some phone calls to return and a report to read.

“There you are!” Bree shouted, waving her hand as she made her way through already intoxicated patrons to where her girlfriends were gathered around a wicker table under the palm trees, coconut-shell cocktails with straws and paper umbrellas in their hands. Bree tilted her head at Roxie. “Why did you disappear? Didn’t you see me nearly fall on my butt?”

They all chortled and spoke at once.

“It’s not funny,” Bree said, but she couldn’t keep a straight face. “Listen, I didn’t bring you all down here just so I could give a bunch of drunks an eyeful!”

Again they laughed. Bree knew when she was outnumbered, so she plopped into the single empty chair, crossed her bare legs and pretended to sulk.

“I’m sorry, Bree,” Roxie said, appearing anything but remorseful. “I found a server to come over here so we could order our drinks, and then I got distracted. When I came back to find you, you were gone.” She handed Bree a cocktail and pointed to the plate of food they were sharing. Their hotel offered free appetizers during happy hour and the girls had taken advantage.

“What happened anyway, Bree?” Showing her usual empathy, Hannah’s voice was filled with concern. “Are you okay?”

Bree shook her head and reached for a cheese cube. “Yes, I’m fine. I just tripped and fell into some guy’s waiting arms. Typical macho guy who thinks every woman is a damsel in distress.”

Hannah’s mouth formed an O and her dark brown doe eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Wow! Was he cute?”

“Invite him over!” Amber said, and then lowered her voice. “Unless he was a troll. Was he a troll?” Amber was nothing if not a straight shooter.

“Not even close.” Bree pursed her lips as she remembered the heat that had suffused her before she’d brushed him off. Or had he been the one to brush her off? Either way, he was in the rearview mirror.

Hannah interrupted Bree’s musings. “Where is he? Do you see him anywhere?” Hannah craned her neck, searching for the guy she’d never even seen.

“Was he hot?” Amber wanted to know. “I bet he was hot. You never follow up when a good-looking guy shows interest.”

“Give her a break,” Roxie said. “Just because the two of you are looking to hook up doesn’t mean everyone is.” Roxie’s longtime boyfriend had recently moved to California for his job, and they were still working out the long-distance romance thing.

Bree looked around, telling herself it didn’t really matter if the guy who’d caught her had disappeared. “I don’t see him. He must have found someone else to annoy.” She shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant, but she’d bet the women who’d known her since freshman year of college weren’t fooled.

Truthfully, the man had made her heart accelerate wildly. His dark hair was full and thick, and just long enough to be sexy. He had a strong jaw under that closely trimmed beard. He was a little above average in height, with lean musculature, and way above average in sex appeal in his khaki shorts, faded Dave Matthews T-shirt and boat shoes. Then again, she’d always been a sucker for guys with intense brown eyes. Too bad those eyes came with such a macho attitude.

“We could walk around and maybe accidentally run into him,” Roxie suggested, using finger quotes.

The others started to get up, but Bree raised a hand to stop them and changed the subject. “Not so fast. First of all, I’m not interested. Second, I want to get your opinion on something—work related.”

There was a collective moan as the women dropped back down into their chairs.

“I want to offer a bartending class,” she told them. “Watching the bartender over there gave me the idea.”

“Bree! We worked all week on our five-year goals,” Roxie whined. “You promised we’d have the evenings to actually vacation, and now you’re back on the subject of work.”

“Yeah!” Amber and Hannah chorused.

“And you also promised to hang out with us tonight!” Amber added.

“I know, I know. And I will.” Bree held up one finger. “But I really want your opinion. We could offer mixology training for women, especially for moms who would benefit from working nights while their husbands can be home with their kids.”

The other three women bobbed their heads. “I like that,” Amber said. “And it would be a faster turnaround than some other training we’ve considered.”

“Also a relatively well-paid position if you consider tips and location of the bar, like at a high-end-hotel lounge compared to a local bar or a chain restaurant,” Hannah added.

Bree’s private company, BeeTee, Incorporated—based on her initials—had been born during her junior year of college when she’d discovered her talent for composing résumés and guiding women into the right jobs. Her business degree, as well as her absorption by osmosis of her excessively rich and powerful father’s phenomenal business savvy, had given Bree the knowledge to grow her female-based employment-and-retraining business. Two years ago, they’d branched into investing in women-owned businesses. Several years before that she’d brought her three best friends from college along for the incredible ride, knowing full well that they came with their own unique talents.

Last year the company had grossed over four million dollars, and they were well on their way to doing better this year. Bree had used her private financial resources to start up the company, but Roxie, Hannah and Amber received yearly stock options on top of their salaries as compensation for their dedication and hard work. Bree still owned the majority of BeeTee, but she ran it pretty much as if the women were full partners.

They discussed Bree’s idea for a few more minutes, until Amber held up her hand and said, “Enough! We agree it’s a great idea, but now it’s time to play.” She straightened her back and peered out at the people around them. “Let’s find us some new friends.” She waggled her eyebrows and fluffed her dark hair with her airbrushed fake nails. “Ooh!” Amber crowed, pointing to something behind Bree. “And here comes a splendid specimen, indeed!”

Bree took a sip of her drink, enjoying how smoothly the liquid went down her throat, and didn’t bother looking up until she heard a familiar deep voice.

“Good evening, ladies,” her sexy rescuer said smoothly, then tapped Bree on the shoulder from behind. “I believe this is yours.”

She gasped and her drink went down the wrong way, sending her into a coughing fit.

* * *

THE WOMAN FINALLY stopped coughing and angled her head around until their eyes met. Nick Harmon dangled the earring where she could see it. He’d discovered it when he’d gone back to the bar to get a fresh drink and felt obligated to find her.

The woman narrowed her dark blue eyes and uncrossed her incredibly long legs. He’d noticed her back at the bar before she’d fallen into his arms. How could he miss her?

“Not mine.” She unstuck a strand of hair from her lip gloss and pulled back her long, golden-brown hair to show him her earrings. Not even close to what she wore.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, feeling like a fool. “I found it back at the bar where you were standing and just assumed...never mind.”

He went to leave, but one of the other women called out to him, “Hey, wait!”

He slowly turned around.

“Why don’t you join us?” the redhead suggested as the women shifted chairs to make space for him. “I’m Roxie,” she said, and pointed to the others. “This is Hannah, Amber, and you’ve apparently already met Bree.”

“Let’s just say she dropped into my life.” He winked at Bree. “I’m Nick, and you must be the friend Bree lost,” he said to Roxie. Then he made eye contact with each woman in turn.

They made quite an intriguing group, each an individual in appearance and sense of style. Besides redheaded Roxie with her fair complexion and dancing green eyes, there was petite Hannah with long blond hair and bangs that framed her deep brown doe eyes. Next came Amber, who had East-Asian features, straight black hair blunt cut at her collarbones with wispy bangs over a high forehead, and the impression that she was a very direct person.

Finally, there was Bree. Nick had trouble keeping a straight face. Horrified didn’t come close to describing her expression at that moment. She didn’t want him there, and she wasn’t subtle about it. Her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as she desperately telegraphed her feelings to her companions.

They were having none of it. In fact, they were completely ignoring her distress. The group seemed fun loving, so why not join them? Three out of four wanted him there. Not a bad percentage.

Besides, his cousin, Pete, hadn’t shown up yet, so why not make new friends?

“What brings you ladies to the island?” he asked, determined to show Pete that he was still on his game. Pete had pressured him into coming on this trip with him, complaining that Nick hadn’t taken time for himself since his life had been torn apart last spring. “Girls’ vacation?” Nick guessed.

“A working vacation,” Hannah said with a scowl.

“More work than vacation,” Roxie grumbled, and reached for a carrot. She gestured that Nick should help himself before dipping her carrot into the white dip on the large plate of appetizers they were sharing.

He laughed, chose a cheese cube and a raw mushroom, and then washed them down with a swig of the beer he’d brought with him. “How long are you staying?” He looked directly at Bree, who still seemed to be adjusting to his presence.

“Two more days.” Bree looked down at her drink. “We leave Sunday afternoon.”

“Yeah, only two more nights to have any fun on this island paradise,” Amber said petulantly as she narrowed her gaze at Bree.

“Then you better stop wasting time.” Nick tossed out his most sincere grin and rose from his chair. “Come on.” He held out a hand to Bree, but she didn’t take it. He kept smiling as he dropped his hand. For some reason, he felt the need to make her like him and prove that she’d been wrong about him. “There’s a limbo contest and karaoke going on nearby, as well as a steel-drum band. There’s also plenty more of whatever you’re drinking out of those coconuts.”

“Let’s limbo!” The women were enthusiastic as they jumped up to join him, with Bree bringing up the rear.

“I love steel-drum bands!” one of them shouted.

Nick downed the last of his beer and set his plastic cup on the table along with the nearly devoured appetizer plate and several empty coconut shells.

The group stopped at the tiki bar to get fresh drinks and to drop off the earring he’d found before continuing on to search out the entertainment Nick had suggested. From the way Bree kept ignoring him and putting one of her friends between them, she seemed determined to pretend that he hadn’t invaded her territory.

He refused to be deterred—he would win her over. Besides, he was a nice guy, damn it. Everyone said so.

After several drinks and a quick dinner from a kiosk on the street, a limbo contest on the beach and a half-decent try at karaoke later, Nick finally found himself alone with Bree at a corner table in the main hotel lounge. He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but she seemed more comfortable around him. “Would you like to take a walk on the beach?” he asked, raising his voice to be heard. The steel-drum band had just begun another set after a short break, so conversation was difficult.

“I should probably call it a night,” she said on a hiccup. Then she giggled, more evidence that she’d finally relaxed.

“Maybe the fresh air will get rid of your hiccups,” he suggested, enjoying Bree even more in her calmer state.

She giggled again. “That’s silly.” She picked up her empty coconut shell and considered it. “Did someone drink all of this?”

“You could say that.” He grinned automatically and caught her hand in his. She smiled and didn’t pull away, a dreamy look on her face with her eyes shuttered to mere slits.

“You know, you’re not half-bad,” she said. “I’m starting to get used to you.”

“Gee, thanks.” He laughed at her backhanded compliment. “You’re not so bad, either.” He meant the words. Once she’d given in and let herself enjoy her surroundings—live in the moment—she was fun to hang out with.

He wondered what it was about her that had made him think she was so vulnerable. Now he only saw her as damned attractive and overtly sexy. Not that he was looking to hook up, no matter what his cousin thought he should do.

So what if she had a slender body with just enough curves to make his own body react. And so what if her long, medium-brown hair had shades of gold that sparkled when light hit them. Just because the long layers rested against those delicately toned, bare upper arms didn’t mean he wanted to kiss every inch of them.

The sudden urge to run his fingers through her silky locks that she liked to toss made his fingers curl into tight fists, and he reined himself in.

“No, really,” she said. “When we first met I thought you were pretty bossy and a know-it-all. But you actually seem like a pretty nice guy.”

He grinned, blaming it on the sweet mixed drinks she’d been downing. He’d consumed more alcohol than he normally did and he was beginning to feel it. He suspected she didn’t imbibe this much very often, either. She presented herself as always in control—of both herself and situations.

A short while ago, her friends had mysteriously disappeared after excusing themselves, one by one, to go to the bathroom. Nick checked his watch. The last woman had left nearly ten minutes ago. Either there was an emergency in the ladies’ room or Bree’s friends had deliberately abandoned her.

He chose the second option as having a higher probability. As protective of her as they seemed to be, he supposed this meant he had their approval as a chaperone. Of course, it wasn’t like they’d been left alone in the woods. There were plenty of people still enjoying the tropical night.

“You have the nicest smile,” Bree told him. “Thank you for catching me earlier. Have I thanked you already?”

“Yes, you have.” He’d been absently rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He checked the caller ID, not surprised when he read it. “Excuse me a minute.” He rose, touching Bree’s bare shoulder and speaking close to her ear. “Promise you’ll be here when I get back?” The citrus smell of her hair was nearly his undoing.

She nodded, held up three fingers in a mock salute and said, “I promise.”

Damn. She was nearly irresistible.

“Hey, Pete,” Nick greeted his cousin on the other end when he found a quieter spot to talk. “I’ve been trying to reach you. What happened to you earlier? I thought you were meeting me at the bar. After all, this weekend getaway was your idea.”

“There was a problem on the boat and it’s taking longer than expected.” Nick and Pete had flown to San Juan, Puerto Rico, using Pete’s airline miles. Then Pete had borrowed a friend’s boat for them to come to Isla de la Blanca. Nick probably wouldn’t have let himself be talked into coming if most of the trip hadn’t been free.

“You need me to come back to the marina?” Pete had told Nick to go to the lodge without him so he could take a quick shower first.

“No, I’ve got it,” Pete said. “There’s a guy here who’s helping me out. Shouldn’t be too long now.”

“Get here as soon as you can. You’ll be happy to know that I met a group of really fun women.”

“Excellent. Be there soon.”

By the time he made it back to the table, he was second-guessing what he’d told Pete. The other three women were still nowhere in sight. Bree was alone—her head was on her folded arms and her eyes shut.