The Millionaire Comes Home. Mary Baxter Lynn

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The Millionaire Comes Home - Mary Baxter Lynn


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to deal with. That was his housekeeper.”

      Relief almost made her giddy. “I guess you’ll have to come back to Ruby another time.”

      Their eyes met and held for the longest time.

      “I have a better idea. I’ll take that vacant room and hang around.”

      Three

      Panic paralyzed her.

      Stay. He didn’t mean that, not for a minute. He was just jerking her chain again. That had to be the case. It just had to. She almost laughed at the very idea.

      In an unsteady tone, she voiced her thoughts. “You’re really joking.”

      His eyes took on a warm, lazy cast as they swept over her. “Is that your way of saying I’m not welcome?”

      She swallowed, quelling the urge to slug him. He was baiting her, and she didn’t have a clue why. After all, he’d been the one who’d walked out on her. If anyone had an ax to grind, it was she.

      “Of course, you’re welcome. It’s just that—”

      “It’s just what?” he pressed.

      “I can’t imagine why you’d want to stay here.” There, she’d said it. She’d been as blunt as she knew how to be. If that didn’t do the trick then nothing would.

      “Can’t you?”

      Denton’s tone suddenly matched his eyes, adding to her confusion. Was he flirting with her? Suddenly the feelings of acute sexual awareness that hung between them was overridden by a sense of outrage. How dare he think he could just show up on her doorstep and behave in such a brazen manner? She had to call a halt to such madness right now. She wasn’t about to let him back inside her life only to have him walk out again.

      “No, I can’t,” she said through tight lips. “You don’t belong here anymore.”

      A flash of anger darkened his eyes. Yet, when he spoke his tone was even. “Is a room available?”

      Say no. Tell him that you made a mistake and that it’s promised. She couldn’t lie, and even if she did, he wouldn’t believe her. “Yes.”

      “Good. I’ll take it.”

      “For how long?”

      Several heartbeats of silence followed during which Grace forced herself not to bite a hole in her lower lip.

      “Couple days max.”

      “Fine.”

      A smile of sorts suddenly lightened his features. “I promise not to be any trouble.”

      “You’ll be treated like all my other guests,” she said as nonchalantly as possible.

      “Fair enough.”

      Their gazes met again, and only by sheer force of will was Grace able finally to turn away.

      “Yo, we’re back.”

      Grace almost wilted visibly with relief at the timely arrival of the Brenners. “In the garden room,” she called out.

      When the elderly couple walked in and saw Denton, they pulled up short. “Sorry,” Zelma said. “Are we interrupting anything?”

      Grace smiled. “Of course not.”

      She introduced them, then watched as Denton smiled and shook their hands.

      If ever two people appeared mismatched, it was Ed and Zelma. Ed was short and robust while Zelma was tall and thin. Though both were in their late seventies, they were full of boundless energy. Grace dreaded the day they left Ruby. She would miss them terribly, though they had already promised to return countless times.

      “You’re going to love your stay here, Mr. Hardesty,” Zelma said, taking a seat across from Grace.

      “I bet you’re right about that,” Denton said, smiling at Zelma.

      Grace groaned inwardly as she watched him mesmerize the old lady. As a young man, he’d had plenty of charm. As a grown-up, he had perfected it and knew how to use it to his advantage.

      With Ed and Zelma he was welcome to go all-out, to turn it on full blast if that would make him happy. As far as she was concerned, he was wasting his time. She planned to avoid him the entire length of his stay.

      “Just wait till you taste her cooking,” Ed was saying. “It’s the best this side of heaven.”

      Zelma made an unladylike noise, though there was a twinkle in her eye as her gaze landed on her husband. “Are you saying I can’t please you?”

      “How would I know, honey bun? You haven’t ever tried.”

      “Uh, right,” Zelma said with a blush. “Well, are you ever in for a surprise.”

      He cut her a look. “I bet you can’t cook.”

      “How’d you guess?”

      They all chuckled, then Ed turned to Denton and asked, “You just passing through, young man?”

      Grace looked on in silence as Denton explained about his vehicle. She tried not to concentrate on him, but it was hard. He was so easy to stare at she had to force her gaze away.

      “Lucky man to have trouble in such an ideal spot,” Ed responded. “We’re both from Houston, but we’re thinking about pulling up stakes and moving here.”

      Grace stared at them in amazement. “You are?”

      “We’re talking about it,” Zelma said, sounding less enthusiastic.

      Ed rested his gaze on Denton. “You couldn’t ask for life any easier. It’s sure nice not to hear the constant sounds of engines and horns. Instead you hear chirping birds and prattling insects.”

      “That’s not Mr. Hardesty’s cup of tea,” Grace said without thought. “I’m sure he’ll be bored with all that serenity.”

      Denton rested his intense gaze on her which made her want to squirm, but she didn’t.

      “I’m counting on you to see that doesn’t happen,” he said in an easy drawl, in contrast to her rather sharp one.

      Ed and Zelma exchanged looks before bouncing their gazes between Grace and Denton as if picking up on the undercurrents in the room.

      Deciding it was time to call a halt to this little chat, Grace stood. “Kitchen duty calls.”

      “I wish you’d let me help,” Zelma said.

      Grace shook her head. “Not a chance.”

      “Point me toward my room before you go, will you?” Denton asked, facing Grace.

      “Now that I can do,” Zelma said, claiming Denton’s attention. “You just follow me.”

      “Thanks,” Grace murmured, relieved she was spared being alone with Denton again. Her nerves were far too frayed to push her luck.

      Ed shuffled toward them. “Wait for me.”

      Several minutes later Zelma walked back into the kitchen.

      “What did he say?” Grace asked.

      “He thanked me, then said he was going across the street to check on his car.”

      Grace merely nodded, her hands busy placing the fresh fruit on the tray.

      “So what’s with you two?” Zelma asked, a slight twitter in her tone.

      Grace’s head popped up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

      “Now, honey, you can’t fool this old fuddy-duddy. I know when electricity’s crackling between two people.”

      “You’re imagining things.”


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