Keeping Her Baby's Secret. Raye Morgan

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Keeping Her Baby's Secret - Raye  Morgan


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“That he did.” His gaze skimmed over her face. “You want to come with me?”

      She reared back. “Not on your life. When I was suggesting a bodyguard, I was thinking more along the lines of one of those burly fellows digging posts for the new barbecue center out back.”

      He laughed. “I think I can handle my grandfather,” he said. “I’m older now. Wiser.” He cocked an eyebrow. “More agile.”

      Diana shook her head, suppressing a grin. “And besides,” she reminded him. “From what I hear, he’s often bedridden. I guess that would give you an advantage.”

      He laughed again. “Exactly.”

      Word was that his grandfather was in rapidly failing health. With Cam’s father spending most of his time at spa resorts that specialized in “rest cures” and his sister reportedly caught up in playing musical husbands, that left Cam to support his mother and help make some decisions. She was beginning to realize that those circumstances were probably part of the reason he’d agreed to come back home.

      “I’ll come out and join you if I survive.”

      “Okay.” She winced as she started out through the rosebushes. She shouldn’t be encouraging any of this “joining” or chatting or anything else with Cam. Her goal coming in had been to have the meeting with Mrs. Van Kirk and then get out of here as quickly as possible. It was becoming more and more clear that staying away from Cam had to be her first priority.

      The older woman came toward her, smiling.

      “Oh, my dear, I’m so glad to see you. Thank you so much for coming by. Come sit with me in the garden and Rosa will bring us some nice tea.”

      Diana smiled back and followed her to the little gazebo at the far side of the flower garden. Her relationship with Cam’s mother had undergone a complete transformation in the last few years. When she was a teenager, she knew very well the woman had considered her a guttersnipe who would contaminate her son if she didn’t keep a constant vigil. The one time Cam had tried to bring her into the house, Mrs. Van Kirk had practically barred the door with her own plump body.

      Years later, after Cam was long gone and Diana had started her flower business, the woman had hired her periodically, acting rather suspicious at first, but warming to her little by little as the quality of her work became apparent. By now, her affection for the girl she used to scorn was amazingly obvious to everyone—and sometimes resented by Janey.

      But Diana was comfortable meeting with her, and she settled into a chair across from her in the gazebo, thinking once again how similar some of her features were to Cam’s. She’d been a beautiful woman and was still very attractive in a plush sort of way. Her hair was auburn where Cam’s was almost black, and her look was soft rather than hard, but she had the same blue eyes and sweet smile he did.

      “I want to tell you how much I appreciate you bringing my son home last night after that terrible accident,” Mrs. Van Kirk began. “He was certainly out of sorts for a while, but Dr. Timmer assures us there will be no lasting injuries. He was so fortunate it happened so close to your place.” Her gaze sharpened and she frowned. “How exactly did you know the accident had happened?”

      “Just lucky I guess,” Diana said breezily. This was not the time to go into reasons why Cam felt at home enough on her property to use it as a refuge. “I was glad to be able to help.”

      “Yes,” she said, gazing at Diana as though seeing her with new eyes. “Well, anyway, we’ll have tea.” She signaled toward the kitchen, where Rosa had appeared at the door. The housekeeper waved that she understood, and Mrs. Van Kirk turned back to the subject at hand.

      “Now, I want you to take a look at my new roses.” She pointed out a pair of new English heirlooms. “What do you think of them?”

      “Oh, they’re lovely. That soft violet color is just brilliant.”

      She looked pleased. “Yes, I’ve hired a new rose expert to come in twice a week and advise me. I want to make sure I’m getting the right nutrients to my little babies. He’s very expensive but I’m so pleased with his work.” She looked up. “Perhaps you know him. Andre Degregor?”

      Diana nodded. “Yes, he’s quite good.” And an internationally recognized rose expert. “Expensive” was probably putting it mildly.

      “You seem to be doing a lot of work on the estate,” she noted, giving the older woman an opening to get the conversation back on track.

      “Yes.” She settled down in her seat and gave Diana a significant smile. “And that’s why I wanted to see you. I’m going to begin a major project. And I want you to take a primary role in the preparations.”

      “A project?” she echoed brightly. What type of project would involve a flower stylist? She was beginning to feel a faint thread of trepidation about this. “What sort of project?”

      “It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a long time.” Her eyes were shining with excitement. “I’m planning a whole series of various social gatherings—teas, dinner parties, barbecues, card parties—all culminating in a major ball at the end of next month.”

      “Oh my,” Diana said faintly.

      “On top of that, we’ll be hosting quite a few guests between functions. I’ve hired a wonderful caterer from San Francisco—for the whole month!” She laughed with delight at the thought. “And I want to hire you for the decorating. If all goes as planned, this will be quite an undertaking.”

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