Marrying a Delacourt (14 page)

“This is so cool,” Josh said. “I could go up and down all day.”

“No, you couldn’t,” Grace admonished. “It’s not an amusement park ride.”

Josh looked crestfallen. “I just meant it would be fun.”

She ruffled his hair. “I know you did. I just want you to remember that there are lots of other people who need to use the elevator. It can’t be going up and down just because you like to push the buttons.”

“We won’t even get on except when we have to,” Jamie assured her, shooting a warning look at his brother as if he feared that one little mistake might ruin their chances of staying.

“I think that’s enough talk about the elevator,” Michael said. “Looks like we’re here.”

Grace led the way down the hall to her apartment, wondering what they would think of it. “Just remember,” she said to the boys, “this will be temporary. We’ll hunt for someplace with more room.”

“Like a house?” Jamie said wistfully. “With a backyard?”

A house meant the suburbs, Grace thought, not entirely pleased by the prospect. That meant more
driving than she was used to, more chances to get herself tangled up in traffic and thoroughly lost. It was also the way Jamie and Josh thought of home, the way she had once envisioned living.

“We’ll look at houses,” she agreed impulsively, as she unlocked the door to their current quarters.

When they walked inside, she wasn’t sure which of them was more shocked. Jamie and Josh stared at everything, clearly stunned by the view and the very modern decor. She sensed that Michael’s amazement was about something else entirely.

“It’s not what I expected,” he said candidly.

“Oh?”

“All this chrome and black and white,” he said with a visible shudder. “It’s not you.”

“Maybe it is,” she said defensively, rather than admitting that she had hated it on sight. She simply hadn’t wanted to waste the time it would take to hire another decorator. She had given the woman free rein and refused to back down even when she’d been shaken by the way the woman apparently viewed her. She had consoled herself with the reminder that she was never here, anyway.

“I thought our place in Austin suited you better,” he said, capturing her gaze. “I loved that apartment.”

She swallowed hard. “You did?” The words were little more than a whisper.

“It made me feel good just walking through the door.”

It had felt that way to her, too, but she had told herself it was because she was young and crazy in
love. At that stage, she might even have liked
this
decor.

She glanced around at the sterile environment she rarely paid any attention to and reconsidered. Maybe not.

“Well, it is what it is,” she said with a dismissive shrug. “I’m not here a lot.”

“When do you plan on going house-hunting?” Michael asked.

“Tomorrow. Maybe the next day. I’ll call a realtor.”

“Let me know when you make an appointment.”

“Why?”

“I’d like to come along.”

If she hadn’t had years to school herself never to show a reaction, her jaw might have dropped open. “You want to look at houses with us?”

“Why not? It’ll be fun.”

“Fine. If you’re sure.”

“I am,” he said firmly. “Somebody has to make sure you don’t do anything like this again.”

She was certain that when the time came he would be tied up in meetings. Now that he was back in Houston, he wouldn’t be able to resist sticking his head into the office, and that would be the end of his so-called vacation. It could be weeks before he surfaced again.

He stepped closer and tilted her chin up. “Everything okay?” he asked, lowering his voice so the boys wouldn’t hear. Once they’d been granted permission, they had raced off to explore the rest of the apartment. “You look a little lost. Or maybe that’s panic.”

“I guess I am feeling a little overwhelmed,” she admitted.

“Then why don’t I come back around six, and we’ll all go to dinner?”

“Won’t you be tied up at the office?”

“I’m on vacation, remember?”

“I thought…”

“I know what you thought,” he said, brushing a kiss across her lips. “But I’ll be back, Grace. You guys discuss what you’d like to eat. I’ll go along with anything.”

The man who dined out at four-star restaurants was going to let two boys choose where they had dinner? Grace couldn’t imagine it. But sure enough, a few hours later when they said they wanted Mexican fast-food, Michael didn’t bat an eye. To her added amazement, he actually knew where the closest one was.

Crammed into a booth, the table littered with an assortment of tacos, burritos and nachos, she found herself wedged thigh-to-thigh beside him.

“If your friends could see you now,” she teased.

“You think they never come here?” he said. “They have kids, too.”

“They probably send them with the servants.”

He peered at her intently. “When did you develop this reverse snobbery?”

Taken aback, she replayed what she’d said and sighed. “That is what it sounded like, isn’t it? I’m sorry.”

“No need. Are you having fun?”

“Actually I am,” she admitted. Not that she could stop worrying about whether Michael thought he was
slumming in some bizarre way, but beyond that she was enjoying being here with the three males who’d appeared so unexpectedly in her life.

“Good. Then you’ll agree to buy some popcorn and rent a video when we leave here,” he suggested. “Then after the boys are in bed, you and I can snuggle up on that monstrosity of a sofa.”

“It’s actually very comfortable,” she said.

He winked. “I hope you’re right, because I have big plans for that sofa.”

“Michael!” she protested, casting a horrified look his way.

“Well, I do.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Acting like you’re going to stick around?”

“Because I am.”

“For how long? Till you go back to work next week?”

“No, darlin’. I thought I told you. I’m in this for the long haul.”

Her pulse leaped, despite all the mental warnings that it was nothing more than a turn of phrase. Her gaze narrowed. “How long is that?”

“Five years. Twenty years. Who knows, maybe even fifty years.”

“Five days is more like it.”

He reached over with a napkin and dabbed at something at the corner of her mouth. Hot sauce probably. That would explain the burning sensation she felt at that exact spot. Surely, it wasn’t because of his touch.

“Why don’t we tackle this one day at a time,” he suggested, “and see how long it adds up to be?”

She could do that. But could it possibly ever add up to enough to erase all these doubts that experience had taught her were totally justified?

“W
here have you been?” Bryce Delacourt demanded irritably when Michael poked his head into his father’s office the next morning. Even though it was Saturday, he had known his father would be here. His only concession to the day of the week was leaving off his tie and jacket.

“I’m amazed you don’t know,” Michael retorted. “I thought your spies were better than that.”

“Just answer the question.”

“Your other children conspired against me.”

His father’s lips twitched with unexpected amusement. “Did they? That’s twice now. They’re cleverer than I’ve given them credit for being. Or you’re not that great at learning from your mistakes.”

Michael thought of the mistake he’d made in letting Grace get away years ago. He’d learned from
that one, all right, but he wasn’t ready to discuss it with his father. Instead he said, “Given how they’ve managed to slip out of your control, I would have thought you’d know better than anyone how inventive they can be.”

“Don’t remind me.” His father pulled a thick pile of folders off the corner of his desk and held them out. “You need to go over these.”

“No can do,” Michael said, remembering his promise to Grace. He kept his hands clasped tightly behind his back to prevent himself from instinctively reaching for the work. “I’m still on vacation.”

His father regarded him with surprise, then nodded. “Okay, take ’em home with you, then.”

Michael grinned ruefully. “You seem to have the same problem with the concept of a vacation that I’ve had. Fortunately, I’ve reformed.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning no work, not this week anyway.”

“But we’ve got to make a quick decision on some of these.”

“Dad, you were making decisions for this company before I was born. I’m sure you can make a few more. If not, anything you’ve got there can surely keep until Monday.”

His father’s gaze narrowed. “You are my son, Michael, aren’t you? The real Michael hasn’t been kidnapped by aliens, has he?”

“Very funny. You’ve just proved what everyone else has been telling me. I spend too much time here. You count on me being a workaholic.”

“Well, of course I do. Somebody’s got to take over this place when I’m gone.”

“And you’ll probably be sitting right there at that desk when you drop over, won’t you?” Michael said, realizing that he’d instinctively followed the example set by his father.

“A man can’t ask for more than to die when he’s doing something he loves,” his father declared.

“What about being with the people he loves? Wouldn’t that be better?”

His father studied him with a bemused expression. “What’s gotten into you? You aren’t thinking of ducking out on me, too, are you?”

“No,” Michael assured him. “But I have discovered that there’s a lot to be said for getting a little balance into my life.”

“You spent too damned much time with your sister,” his father grumbled. “You open your mouth and I can hear her talking. Can’t imagine where she learned it, since your mother knows that hard work is what puts food on our table.”

Michael uttered a harsh laugh. “Food? Dad, you could feed an entire nation with what you take home from here. Maybe we’d all have been a little richer if you spent time with us, instead.”

His father sighed heavily. “Now I’m neglectful? That’s your sister again. Blast her, isn’t it enough that she bailed out on me? Does she need to start influencing you, too?”

“Actually Trish wasn’t around all that much. She and Hardy took off to make sure I had lots of free time on my hands. Might have gone crazy if I hadn’t had some unexpected company.” He gestured toward the stack of bulging folders and grinned at his
father. “Remind me to tell you about it one of these days when you don’t have so much work piled up.”

“Tell me now,” his father commanded in a tone that normally would have brought Michael to a halt.

“No time. I’m going house-hunting.” He stepped into the outer office and closed the door firmly behind him. Even through the thick mahogany paneling of the door and the top-of-the-line soundproofing, he could hear his father bellowing.

“House-hunting? You already have a house. Michael Delacourt, get back in here this instant and explain what the devil has happened to you.”

Michael winked at his father’s longtime secretary, who made it a habit to come in on Saturdays as well. She claimed it was for her own good. Otherwise, her desk was a disorganized mess on Mondays.

“You might want to steer clear of him for the next hour or two,” he told her. “I seem to have thrown him off-stride.”

She grinned. “It’s about time. Whatever you’re up to, Michael, have fun. You deserve it.”

“I do, don’t I?”

If his father had been startled by the changes in his attitude, Grace was positively stunned by his arrival promptly at ten.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“The realtor’s coming at ten, right? That’s what you told me on the phone last night.”

“Yes, but…”

“I told you I’d be here. Didn’t you believe me?”

“Frankly, no. You also said you’d be stopping by the office on your way. I figured your father would have things for you to do.”

“He did.”

“And?”

“I told him to do them himself.”

Her gaze widened. “You didn’t.”

He chuckled at her reaction. “He was even more shocked than you are, but he’ll get over it.” He leaned down and kissed her soundly. “Will you?”

She touched a finger to her lips. “I don’t know.”

“Where are Josh and Jamie? Surely you haven’t locked them in their room for misbehaving already.”

“No. They’ve discovered cable TV. Apparently there is an entire network devoted to cartoons. Thank goodness the realtor is due any minute. Otherwise, I doubt I’d pry them out of there before school starts in the fall.”

Michael heard the squeals of laughter echoing down the hall. “Commandeered your office, too, I see. Until we watched that video last night had that TV ever actually been on before?”

“A couple of times when I was checking the news for reports on cases I had in court,” she admitted.

Michael shook his head. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?” He smiled slowly. “Maybe we deserve each other.”

Grace’s gaze locked with his as if she weren’t quite certain how seriously to take him.

Because there wasn’t time to get into such a loaded topic right now with Jamie and Josh down the hall and a realtor on the way, he merely grinned. He was feeling good today, no doubt about it.

He winked at her. “Something to think about, isn’t it?”

Grace had been off-kilter ever since Michael had actually shown up on time. Forget on time. The fact that he’d shown up at all had been shocking. She didn’t know what to make of his attitude or his innuendoes. If the man was toying with her, hinting at a future he had no intention of sharing with her, she’d have to strangle him. No doubt about it.

She glanced into the kitchen of the house the realtor was currently showing them and heard Michael cross-examining her about the age of the appliances, the taxes, the utility bills and a zillion other details she hadn’t even thought about discussing. She would have, though. Before she made an offer on a house, she surely would have remembered to ask those same questions, rather than daydreaming about bright color schemes and comfortable sofas.

The only problem was she had hated this house on sight. It was huge and pretentious. Even though the boys obviously loved the big backyard and the pool, she didn’t think she could bring herself to live in a showplace like this. It reminded her too much of the Delacourt mansion.

“Grace?” Michael was looking at her curiously. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

“What do you think?”

“I hate it,” she said candidly, grateful that the realtor wasn’t nearby to hear. Curious about his reaction to a place that so closely resembled his home, she asked, “How about you?”

“Hate it,” he agreed. “Maybe we’d better tell her she’s on the wrong track or we’ll waste an entire day
looking at houses that are pumped up versions of a Southern plantation.”

She chuckled at the description. “That’s exactly what it is, isn’t it? You talk to her. If I try, I’m liable to laugh out loud. She might consider that an insult to her taste. To tell you the truth, I doubt she would have shown me this place if she hadn’t recognized your name. She probably figures we’re trying to outdo your family.”

“Heaven forbid,” Michael said with a shudder. “Okay, I’ll talk to her. You try to keep the boys out of the pool. They’re itching to dive in. Any second now one of them is going to give the other a shove, then claim it was an accident.”

Grace glanced through the French doors that opened onto the pool deck and saw Josh and Jamie inching ever closer to the side. She bolted for the door.

“Okay, you two, back inside.”

“Grace, this is so cool,” Josh said. “Are you gonna buy it?”

“No.”

“Aw, how come?” Josh asked. “It would be really cool having our very own pool.”

Jamie fought to cover his disappointment with disdain for his brother. “Probably ’cause it’s too expensive, dummy.”

“It’s not too expensive,” Grace said. “It’s just way too fancy.”

“We wouldn’t mess things up,” Josh promised, regarding her hopefully.

“I’m sure you would try very hard not to,” she
agreed. “I’m not worried about that. I just want someplace that’ll be more comfortable.”

“You mean like with chairs and stuff?” Jamie asked. “It’d have furniture, Grace. Maybe you’d like it better then.”

She ruffled his hair. “I doubt that. Don’t look so disappointed. This is only the first house we’ve seen. The perfect house is out there.”

Unfortunately, after two more hours of looking and a break for lunch, they had still seen nothing that fit her idea of a real home.

Michael seemed to agree with her. Once he’d paid for lunch and they were outside waiting for valet parking to return their cars, he turned to the real estate agent. “Thanks for all your help this morning, Mrs. Norton. I think we need some time to fine-tune our needs.”

Grace stood up a little straighter.
Our needs?
What the devil did he mean by that? This was her house. She’d let him speak for her earlier, but somehow he’d apparently gotten it into his head that he had a say in what she ultimately chose.

“Michael, could I speak to you for a second?” she said urgently, drawing him aside as the realtor gave him a speculative look. “What are you doing? It’s bad enough that she defers to you on every little detail. She needs to know that I’m the customer. There is no
us.
”

“Do you want to look at more houses with her?”

“No, but—”

“Then let me shake her.”

“I should be the one to do that.”

He shrugged, regarding her with amusement. “Then, by all means, do it.”

Grace returned to Mrs. Norton. “Thank you so much for your help this morning,” she said graciously.

“You’re entirely welcome. Shall we take a look at just one more house. I think I’ve narrowed down the possibilities, based on your earlier reactions. This could be the one.”

Grace doubted it, but the woman was so eager, how could she possibly refuse. “One more,” she agreed with a barely contained sigh. She had to try very hard to ignore Michael’s
I-told-you-so
look.

Naturally the last house was no better than any of the others. In fact, it could have been a cookie-cutter copy of the first house, except for the color scheme which ran toward burgundy and forest green. Grace actually liked those colors, but not when they were done in heavy velvet and damask fabrics that blocked out every bit of sunlight. It took everything in her to hide her horrified reaction.

This time when she dismissed the realtor, she had no trouble at all doing it forcefully.

As she, Michael and the boys climbed back into the car, Josh declared, “That place gave me the creeps. It looked like ghosts could live there.”

Jamie poked his brother in the ribs. “It’s not polite to say stuff like that.”

“It is in this case,” Michael said. “I expected to find a vampire’s coffin in one of the bedrooms.”

Grace chuckled. All three males stared at her, then burst into laughter.

“It was so awful,” she said, choking out the words
between giggles. Then the enormity of what lay ahead of her in finding a dream house sank in. Her laughter died as quickly as it had begun.

“Let’s stop by my place,” Michael suggested, his expression enigmatic, though it was evident to her that he had guessed she was verging on hysteria. “The boys can go for a swim and you and I can have a tall glass of something cold to drink while we rethink our strategy.”

“You’re going to keep helping us look?” she asked, surprised and relieved that this wasn’t going to be the only day he could dedicate to house-hunting.

“Absolutely. I’m terrified you’ll get so worn out that last place will start to look good to you.”

“Not a chance of that,” she said.

“All the same, I think I’ll stick around.”

A few minutes later he turned onto a side street in a quiet, older neighborhood where the houses were large, but looked as if real people lived in them. Lawns were mowed, not manicured, and were littered with bicycles and other evidence that there were children on the block.

Grace turned to him in surprise. “You live near here?”

“Just up the street,” he confirmed.

“But it’s so…” Words failed her.

“Normal?” he suggested. “That’s what I wanted. My secretary helped me find it. She lives about a mile from here.”

“Are you sure you didn’t pick it just so she’d be conveniently located to handle any middle-of-the-night brainstorms you might have?” Grace teased.

“Her husband is an ex-Oiler linebacker. He doesn’t permit middle-of-the-night brainstorms.” He leveled a look at her. “I bought this place because it reminded me of someplace I used to feel at home.”

Could he be talking about their apartment? Grace wondered. That tiny place in what could only be described as a transitional neighborhood wasn’t even close to being in the same league as this. Surely she was mistaken about what he meant.