The Earl Takes A Bride. Kathryn Jensen
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their own. And it was Saturday—no day-care kids. Now was as good a time as any to consider her options.
Forty-five minutes later, her checkbook lay open in front of her on the kitchen table. Checks to cover the most urgent bills had been written, bringing her balance down to almost nothing. In two weeks she’d be paid again, but without Gary’s earnings she’d be hard put to continue making ends meet.
Thomas had been right. She’d been too proud to ask Gary for help. But she wouldn’t go begging to her ex now. Alternatives. That’s what she needed. What were hers?
She could ask her parents for a loan. Or she could reconsider Jacob’s blank check. But either one would be a temporary fix at best and leave her feeling indebted to her family. She stood up, stretched and walked across the kitchen to work the stiffness out of her bones. It took making a cup of tea and circling the kitchen table for another ten minutes to come up with the obvious answer: get a better paying job.
That would mean working outside of her home, leaving her children in someone else’s care when they weren’t in school. Other mothers did it; she could, too. But she felt as if she was breaking a silent promise she’d made to her babies when they were born. She sat down again at the table, convinced she couldn’t feel any worse.
A moment later a series of fist-on-wood thuds rattled the glass pane in her kitchen door. She twisted around in her chair with a startled jerk just as Thomas Smythe opened her door without invitation and stepped inside. She was immediately reminded of the deliciously illicit feelings he’d awakened in her the first day they’d met…and every time since.
“I thought you’d have left for Elbia by now,” she said, pushing back from the table to stand up.
He shrugged, his shoulders threatening to break out walls. “I had a few more matters to look into before I left,” he said, placing a white paper sack on her table that looked as if it had come from the local bakery. He had only a slight English accent, which she attributed to the amount of time he’d spent in the United States and other countries on behalf of Jacob.
“What kind of matters?” She dug into the bag and brought out an enormous raisin scone. As anxious as he’d seemed to get out of her house the night before, she figured they must have been terribly important to keep him in Connecticut.
“Just details. Like making sure you have enough cash on hand to survive the next few months.”
The big guy doesn’t give up easy, does he? she thought, amused by his insistence on doing his job, but also a little annoyed at Jacob’s interference. “Well, there’s nothing you can do if I don’t want help, is there?” She took a bite of the scone, then waved it in challenge at him. “Short of dumping truckfuls of cash into my accounts, but you don’t have the name of my bank or the account numbers, so…” She nearly choked on a mouthful of crumbs at the mischievous twinkle in Thomas’s dark eyes. “You wouldn’t. You didn’t!”
He just looked at her. He wasn’t quite smiling, but she was sure the effort to keep a straight face was costing him.
“Damn you, Thomas. And Jacob, too. It’s no doubt his name that loosened tongues.” She tossed his raisined peace offering on the table. Men! What right did they have to take over her life? She was perfectly capable of working things out for herself. Surviving the next few months might not be fun, but she’d find a way.
“It’s for your own good. In the children’s best interest,” Thomas explained solemnly.
“Well, you can tell Jacob that I resent his intrusion into my private life!” she snapped. “I don’t need anyone’s charity.”
“You’ll lose your house. You’ll be on the street,” Thomas said calmly.
“The hell I will.” She flashed her eyes at him.
“If accepting a gift isn’t your preference, consider the money a short-term loan.”
She glared at him, but couldn’t stay angry. She’d always liked him. What amazed her about Thomas was that he never seemed to think of himself. He was always doing things for Jacob—bringing him documents, keeping him on schedule for his appointments, driving him here and there, protecting him from outsiders. He seemed on duty twenty-four hours a day. And now he protected her sister, nephew and niece as well. He was a little scary sometimes—because of his size and booming voice. But he was, she believed, one of the most honorable and dedicated men she’d ever met.
He continued calmly, his dark eyes fixed on her face. “You have to be reasonable, Diane. If not for your own sake, then for the children….”
She felt silly, turning down gobs of money. Giddiness took over. She did what every first-grader learns to do when confronted with adult logic. She covered her ears, closed her eyes and belted out “The Star Spangled Banner” as Thomas continued his argument.
Halfway through the first verse, Diane was struck by a steamroller of male flesh. She let out a gasp of shock as Thomas forced her up against the kitchen counter, seized her by the shoulders and kissed her fiercely on the mouth.
Diane struggled for precisely two seconds, then went limp against him. Do men really kiss like this? she wondered dizzily, all other concerns driven from her head. His lips were warm and full. He didn’t just kiss her, he consumed her. The faint scratchiness of morning stubble added heat to his mouth against hers. His big hands released her shoulders, but only to allow his fingers to rake through her tousled hair. His palms clamped either side of her head and pressed her toward him again, increasing the pressure on her lips.
It felt so good, she thought she would die.
When Thomas finally relinquished his claim to her lips, he pressed her blazing cheek against his shirtfront and breathed heavily for several seconds. She felt the rise and fall of his immense chest beneath her cheek. Heard his heart thudding strongly.
“Is that supposed to satisfy my banker? Or just you?” she asked, her voice unusually husky sounding.
“Both of us—you and me.” He ground out the words.
“Uh-uh.” She had to catch her breath and refocus her thoughts before she could come up with anything more to say. Through the window over the sink she glimpsed Tommy, Annie and Gare. They’d been joined by two neighbor children and all were now busily digging in the sandbox.
“You started it,” Thomas said at last.
“What?” She tried to pull away, but he made no move to release her. “Me? I believe all I did was tell you I didn’t want Jacob’s money!”
“Last night, woman,” he said. “You kissed me.”
“But…but that was just an innocent peck on the cheek!” she protested, although she remembered the electricity she’d felt zap between them at the touch of her lips. “It was a gesture of thanks, that was all.”
“It was more,” he said, sounding irritatingly sure of himself.
“Was not.”
Was too, her Tommy would have replied.
But the Englishman said nothing more for another moment. At last he sighed and moved a step back from her, his hands dropping to his sides. “I’ve never met a more maddening woman in my life.”
She decided it would be safer to pretend smugness than to let him see how thoroughly he’d shaken her. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she retorted, flashing him a chipper smile.
“It may well be,” he murmured, gazing down at her with more intensity than she had ever seen in any man’s eyes. “It may well be…Diane.” His hand rose from his hip to the level of her chin. She didn’t pull away as his thumb caressed the fragile line of her jaw, then touched her lower lip before retreating.
“Did Jacob tell you to offer physical as well as financial consolation?”
For a fraction of a second he looked hurt. Then his expression hardened and he took three stiff steps back from