Keeping Her Baby's Secret. Raye Morgan
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She waved back at the cheery woman and headed into the house. She’d been here often enough lately to know her way around. This place that had seemed so special to her as a child, and then so scary when she was friends with Cam but never invited in, was now a part of her workspace.
Walking down the long hall, gleaming with Brazilian cherry hardwood, she glanced into the library, and then the parlor, to check on the large arrangements she’d brought just a few days before. Both looked pretty good. Ever since she’d stressed to Rosa that the stems could use a trim and fresh water every few days, her masterpieces were holding up better than they had before.
The Van Kirk mansion was beautiful in a way few houses could be. The quality of the original materials and workmanship shone through. The rich past and full history just added luster. It made her happy and proud just to be here, walking its beautiful halls.
As she rounded the stairwell to head into the dining room and out the French doors, Cam surprised her by arriving down the stairs and stopping right in front of her.
“Good morning, Miss Collins,” he said smoothly. “You’re back.”
She cocked her head to the side and looked him over, fighting hard to suppress her reaction as her heart began a frantic dance in her chest. Here he was. It was really true. She hadn’t dreamed what had happened the night before. Cam was back in her life, just when she’d thought it could never be.
He looked so good. Morning sunlight was even more flattering to his handsome face than starlight had been. Dressed in khakis and a blue polo shirt that matched his eyes, he looked hard and muscular as an athlete but gentle as a lover at the same time.
The perfect man—hadn’t that always been the problem? She’d never found anyone better. It made her half-angry, half-thrilled, and practically hopeless. Now that he was back, what was going to happen to her peace of mind?
One casual meeting and she was already straying into thoughts she’d vowed to stay away from. A simple look into that silverblue gaze and her breath was harder to find and she was thinking moonlight and satin sheets and violins on the terrace. Given half a chance, she would be sliding into his arms, raising her lips for kisses….
No! She couldn’t let that happen.
Very quickly, so quickly she hoped he didn’t even notice, she pulled herself up short and forced a refocus. Cam was a friend and that was all he could ever be.
So think friend, she ordered herself. Lover thoughts are not allowed.
“Yes,” she agreed, putting steel in her spine. “I’m…I’m back.”
His gaze swept over her. “You’re looking particularly lovely today,” he noted, a slight smile softening the corners of his wide mouth.
The corners of her own mouth quirked. “As opposed to what I looked like yesterday, after midnight?” she said, half teasing.
His grin was crooked. “Oh, no. After midnight you looked even better. Only…”
“Did you see a doctor last night?” she broke in quickly, eager to forestall any flirting he might have in mind. They had to keep their relationship on a certain level and she was bound and determined she would be the watchdog of that if he wouldn’t be.
“I guess so.” He shrugged. “I was pretty much out of it.”
“Yes, you were.”
Looking chagrined, he put his hand over his heart and gazed earnestly into her eyes. “I don’t drink, you know. Not really. Hardly ever.”
If she wasn’t careful, he was going to make her laugh, and that was almost as dangerous as making her swoon.
“So you said.”
“And it’s true. If I’d found a box of crackers in the trunk of the car instead of a bottle of booze, I’d have been all crumbs last night, instead of the sauced serenader I devolved into.”
She choked and his eyes sparkled with amusement at his own joke.
“But I do want to apologize. I was rude last night. I took over your lake and ruined your sleep and generally made myself into a damned nuisance.”
He meant it. He was really apologizing. She met his gaze in solemn candor. “You did.”
“And I’m sorry.” His blue eyes were filled with tragic regret.
She laughed softly, shaking her head. She’d missed him, missed his candor, missed his teasing and missed what often actually seemed to be his sincere sensitivity to what she was feeling. But she had to admit, that sensitivity could sometimes slosh over into a subtle mockery and she was afraid he might be working his way in that general direction right now.
Still, they were friends, weren’t they? She was allowed to act like a friend, at least.
“I’m not,” she said firmly. “I’m not a bit sorry.” She smiled up into his face. “Despite everything, it is good to have you back in the neighborhood.”
“‘Despite everything,’ you say.” He looked skeptical. “Seriously?”
Her smile deepened. “Of course.”
The warmth between them began to sizzle and she knew it was time to pull back. But it felt like resisting quicksand to do it. If only she could allow herself this small island of pleasure. Soon enough she would leave and hopefully wall off any further contact with Cam, except the most casual and occasional kind. Would it really ruin everything to let herself enjoy him, just for this warm spring morning?
Yes. He was looking at her mouth and it sent shivers all through her. She couldn’t risk even a tiny moment or two of weakness. Determined, she pulled away.
“I drove by to look at your car this morning,” she said over her shoulder as she started to walk toward the French doors that opened onto the gardens.
“How’s it doing?” he asked, walking with her.
She glanced at him sideways. “You didn’t tell me you’d had a tire blow out.”
“Didn’t I?”
“No.” She stopped in the doorway, turning to face him again. “It’s too bad. I sort of liked your story about fighting the wheel in order to get to my place.”
He snapped his fingers. “That was exactly what I was doing when the blowout occurred.”
She grinned. “Right.”
Mrs. Van Kirk, wearing a wide-brimmed sun hat and carrying a basket filled with cut flowers, was out among her prized rosebushes and as she turned, she spotted the two of them and began to wave. “Yoo-hoo! My dear, I’m over here.”
Diana lifted her hand to wave back and said out of the corner of her mouth, “Who’s she talking to, you or me?”
He stood beside her in the doorway, looking out. “I’d say it’s a toss-up.”
She glanced at him. “She’s your mother.”
His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he looked out at where she stood, waving at them. “Sometimes I wonder,” he muttered.
Diana didn’t wonder. In fact, she didn’t have a doubt. Cam looked so much like his mother, it was cute—or frightening, depending on how you looked at it.
“Well, I’m going to go to her,” Diana said, turning to leave.
He hung back. “I’m not coming with you. I’ve got a command audience with my grandfather.”
“Oh, no.” Stopping, she looked back at him. “Is this the first you’ve seen him since you came back?”
He nodded, a faraway look in his eyes. “This should be interesting.”
To say the least. Diana winced, remembering all those old, painful arguments with the old man when he was younger.