Marrying a Delacourt (3 page)

“I don’t know. I didn’t try. Look, Grace, I know this is an imposition, but you’re the best. Face it, I’m out of my element. When that happens, I know enough to call in an expert.”

If she’d been on her feet, she’d probably have fainted at the admission. “That has to be a first,” she commented.

“What?”

“You admitting you’re at a loss.”

He regarded her evenly. “I’m not blind to my faults, Grace.”

“Just not interested in correcting them?” she surmised.

His gaze narrowed. “Do you really want to take that particular walk down memory lane?”

Her cheeks burned. She swallowed hard and shook her head, reminding herself that his calling her wasn’t personal. He hadn’t dragged her over here because he’d been pining away for her for the past few years. It was about those two scared boys upstairs. Nothing else. Period. She had to keep that in mind. It would be way too easy to get caught up in all of this, to imagine that they were partners, a team…a family.

No sooner had that thought slammed into her head, than she jerked herself sternly back to reality. They were nothing to each other.
Nothing.
Old friends, at best. And this weekend was nothing more than a tiny, last-gasp blip on their flat-lined relationship. It was not evidence that there was life in it.

“No, of course not,” she said briskly.

“I thought not.” He studied her intently. “So, what do I do with them?”

He sounded genuinely perplexed, as if the decision-making king of the business world had finally butted up against a problem he couldn’t solve with a snap of his fingers or a flurry of memos. Grace found the uncertainty more appealing than she cared to admit. For Michael Delacourt to show his vulnerability, especially to her, was something worth noting.

“What options have you considered?” she asked, curious to know exactly where he was coming from. “And speaking of experts, why didn’t you just call the police and let them deal with the situation?”

To her relief, he looked genuinely appalled by the suggestion.

“They’re a couple of scared kids. How could I call the police? They haven’t done anything wrong.”

“They’ve run away for starters, and you don’t know that they haven’t done more,” she pointed out realistically. “They could have been roaming around for weeks breaking into places, stealing food, jewelry and who knows what else.”

“If they were stealing food, they weren’t much good at it. They were starved,” he said, ignoring the rest.

“Think back, Michael. All boys that age are starved at least a half-dozen times a day,” she reminded him.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

She was still mystified by what he expected. “Look, Michael, what exactly do you want me to do?”

“Talk to them. Handle it. Figure out what’s going on. Get them back home.” He raked his hand
through his thick, dark brown hair in a gesture of frustration that pretty much destroyed the usual neat style. “I don’t know.”

She found that appealing, too. Because her reaction irritated her, she snapped, “Just get them off your plate and onto mine, I suppose.”

His expression brightened. “Exactly.”

“Sorry, pal,” she said, getting to her feet. She needed to get out of here before she succumbed to Michael’s charm and the very real distress of those two boys. This was heartache she didn’t need. There were plenty of other people around who could step in here and solve this, professionals with nothing at stake except doing their jobs.

“I think handling a couple of kids ought to be a piece of cake for a man who controls a multinational corporation,” she said. “You’ll be good for each other. Consider it your good deed for the century. Just think, you’ll have it out of the way right at the start.”

With the pointed barb delivered, she skirted past him and aimed for the door. Conveniently, her overnight bag was still there. She’d barely made a grab for it, though, when he stepped into her path. Even though Michael went through life with an economy of movements, he had always been able to move as swiftly as a panther when he chose to. Apparently right now he was highly motivated.

“You can’t leave,” he protested.

“Oh, but I can.”

“Grace, don’t do this to me. You’re a lawyer. You know how to cut through red tape, get things done.”

She regarded him with amusement. “And you
don’t? Please. Compared to convincing a foreign government to let you steal mineral rights, this is just a little inconvenience. Deal with it.”

“Do you want me to beg?”

She grinned at the prospect, then regarded him curiously. “An interesting possibility. Are you any good at it?”

“Let me give it a shot.”

He reached for her hand, pressed a kiss against her knuckles that sent shockwaves cavorting right through her. It wasn’t exactly begging, but she had to admit it was an excellent start. Something inside her was melting right along with her resolve.

“Please, Grace. Stick around through the weekend at least. Help me get a straight story out of those kids. Once we’ve figured out what to do, you can race straight back to Houston and I won’t bother you again for another half-dozen years or so.”

She withdrew her hand, because she didn’t like the sensations his touch was kicking off. “Nice try, but I’m not convinced yet that you really need me. Any old lawyer would do. Doesn’t Delacourt Oil have a slew of them on retainer?”

He frowned at that. “None like you.”

She regarded him with surprise. “I almost believe you mean that.”

“Believe me, Grace, I have never meant anything more, never needed you more,” he said with convincing solemnity. “Never.”

There was a time when those words would have made her pulse ricochet wildly. Unfortunately, they still had a disconcerting effect. Ignoring it, she shook
her head and took another step back, a step toward putting a safe emotional distance between them.

“Maybe this will be good for you, Michael. Put you in touch with real human beings for a change.”

He appeared genuinely offended by the implication. “I deal with real human beings all the time.”

“You just don’t find them nearly as interesting as the bottom line, is that it?”

“You’re not being fair.”

“Probably not,” she agreed. “But we both know life isn’t always fair.”

His gaze locked on hers. “But you are, Grace. Fairness is what you’re all about. You fight for the underdog. Nobody knows that better than I do. I’ve seen you take some of my friends to the cleaners to make sure their ex-wives get what they deserve. Hell, you’ve taken me apart on the witness stand to pry out some ugly truths about friends of mine. We both know how tough you are when it matters. You handled that situation for Jeb’s wife when you thought the company was misjudging her. If it hadn’t been straightened out to your satisfaction, you would have fought like a tiger for her.”

“You lucked out. Brianna was in love with Jeb and he was smart enough to go to bat for her in the end. Otherwise we would have sued your pants off and won.”

He grinned. “That’s what I mean. You don’t care
who
you go up against, if you think the cause is just.”

“There’s a difference this time,” she said.

“What’s different?”

“You and I would be on the same side. I think I
like it better when we’re battling on opposite sides,” she admitted candidly.

“Safer that way?” he inquired, an all-too-knowing glint in his eyes.

She was surprised that he could read her so well. “Smarter,” she corrected.

He regarded her with amusement. “You don’t still have a thing for me, do you, Grace? Being here with me isn’t dredging up old memories, is it?”

She bristled at the suggestion. “Of course not.”

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem, right?” he said, clearly laying down a challenge. “We’ll leave the past off-limits, stick strictly to the situation at hand.”

It rankled that he thought it would be so easy to avoid rekindling their old passion. But if he could spend this weekend with her and keep it impersonal, then she certainly could…or she would die trying.

“Fine,” she said, picking up her bag again, this time turning toward the stairs. “Okay, where’s my room? Since I’m staying, I’m obviously too beat to think straight. We’ll tackle this in the morning.”

And in the morning, maybe she’d be able to figure out why Michael Delacourt was the only male on earth who could still twist her right around his finger without even trying.

M
ichael had never been so relieved to see anyone in his life as he had been to see Grace pull into the driveway the night before. The fact that his heart had done a little hop, skip and jump had been gratitude, nothing more, he assured himself. The woman was far too prickly for him to consider another run at anything more, especially when there were plenty of willing women who’d be grateful for his attention and who wouldn’t grumble if he had to cancel a date every now and again.

Not that he didn’t understand why Grace had been furious when he’d missed her law school graduation years ago. He’d known exactly how important that day was to her. She had struggled and sacrificed to go to college, worked herself to a frazzle to succeed.
She had earned that moment of triumph, and he should have been there to witness it.

Even understanding all that, he’d gotten caught up in a tough negotiation and hadn’t even glanced at a clock until it was too late to make the ceremony. He’d apologized in every way he could think of, but she’d been unforgiving. Still was, as far as he could tell.

At the time, he’d told himself it was for the best. After all, how could a man in his position be expected to work nine to five? If he followed the workaholic example set by his father, his career was destined to be time-consuming. If Grace was going to be unreasonably demanding, it would never work out. Better to find that out before they were married.

He winced when he thought of how he’d tried to deftly shift all of the blame to her, tried to make her feel guilty for his neglect, as if it were her expectations that were at fault, not his insensitivity. No wonder she’d taken every opportunity since to make him squirm in court. He was amazed that she’d shown up here at all, much less stayed. But, then, Grace had too much grit, too much honor, to let her distaste for him stand in the way of helping someone truly in need.

One glance at those two boys and Michael had seen her heart begin to melt. Despite her tough exterior, she was a soft touch. Always had been. Even when she’d been struggling to pay tuition, refusing to accept so much as a dime from him, she’d never been able to turn away a lost kitten or a stray dog. She’d craved family the way some people needed
sex. He’d counted on that to work in his favor when he’d called her.

And speaking of sex, being in such close proximity to her was going to be sheer torture. Just because he’d recognized that they weren’t suited for marriage didn’t mean that recognition shut off his hormones. The minute she’d stepped out of that rental car, looking annoyed and disheveled, he’d promptly envisioned her in bed with him, and in this scenario he was doing some very clever and inventive things to put a smile back on her face. He doubted she would have been pleased to know the direction of his thoughts.

He was none too pleased about them himself, since he’d been in an uncomfortable state of arousal ever since his first glimpse of her the night before. He figured an icy shower was going to be his only salvation and, if Grace was sticking around, he might as well get used to taking them. Uncontrollable lust or not, he had no intention of strolling down that particular dead-end road again. He had trouble enough on his hands with Jamie and Josh under his roof—or Trish’s roof, to be more precise about it.

He considered hanging around upstairs for a while longer, giving her plenty of time to solve the problem of the runaway kids, but guilt had him showered and dressed and on his way downstairs just after dawn. To his surprise, he was the last one up.

When he wandered into the kitchen, he found Grace blithely flipping pancakes for two wide-eyed and eager boys, whose blond hair had been slicked back and whose faces had been scrubbed clean. Grace’s influence, no doubt.

They were currently falling all over themselves to get the table set for her. Given the fact that she was barefoot and had chosen to dress in shorts and a T-shirt, he could understand their reaction. He was pretty darned anxious to do whatever he could to please her, too. Unfortunately, his ideas would have to wait for another time, another place…probably another lifetime.

“Grace says as soon as we eat, we’re going to talk about what to do with us,” Josh announced, sounding surprisingly upbeat about the prospect. Obviously he was crediting Grace with the good judgment not to do anything against his will.

“We’re not going back,” Jamie inserted direly, his gaze pointedly resting first on Michael, then on Grace. “So, if that’s what you’re thinking, you can forget it.”

Obviously he was not as willing to assume Michael’s good will or Grace’s powers of persuasion as his little brother was.

“Back to where?” Michael asked, hoping to get a quick, uncensored response.

Grace shot a warning look at him. “That’s enough for now. We’ll talk about it after breakfast,” she soothed, a hand resting gently on the boy’s shoulder. “We’ll all be able to think more clearly after we’ve eaten. How many pancakes, Jamie?”

“Four,” he said, his distrust clearly not extending to the matter of food.

“I want five,” Josh said.

“You can’t eat five,” Jamie countered. “You’re littler than me.”

“Can so.”

“How about you both start with four and see if you want more?” Grace suggested, deftly averting a full-scale war between the two boys. She turned her attention to Michael for the first time since he’d entered the kitchen. “And you?”

“Just coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.”

“The pancake offer only goes around once,” she advised him. “I’ll give you four, too. You look like you could use a decent breakfast for a change. You probably have the executive special back home.”

“What’s that?” Josh asked.

“Half a grapefruit and dry toast,” Grace said with obvious distaste. “Keeps them lean and mean.”

“Oh, yuck,” both boys agreed in unison.

It was too close to the truth for Michael to contradict Grace’s guesswork or the boys’ disgust. “Whatever,” he mumbled, pouring himself a cup of coffee and taking his first sip gratefully. It was strong, just the way he liked it.

When they were all seated at the round kitchen table, plates piled high with pancakes that had been drowned in maple syrup, Grace regarded Michael with interest. “In all the confusion last night, I forgot to ask. Where exactly are we? You said Los Piños on the phone. The pilot neglected to give me any details about our flight plan.”

“And we all know your sense of direction is seriously flawed,” Michael teased. “Los Piños is in west Texas. That’s the opposite side of the state from Houston, in case you were wondering.”

“How exactly did Trish manage to lure you over here before deserting you?”

“She didn’t. Tyler came into my office and
nagged until he got me on the company jet under the pretense of bringing me over here for a big family reunion.”

“And you bought that, after what they did to you last time?” she asked, looking incredulous.

“What happened last time?” Josh asked, his face alight with curiosity, his overloaded fork hovering in midair.

“They took him off to a cabin in the woods and left him,” Grace said with a certain amount of obvious delight. “One whole week.”

“Cool,” Jamie declared.

“No cell phone. No TV. No newspapers. No financial news,” Grace added cheerily, as if she knew exactly what had driven him up a wall during those seven endless days. “Did they stock the refrigerator, or were you expected to catch your dinner in the lake?”

Michael scowled at her but didn’t bother to reply. He was not about to discuss his lack of expertise with a fishing rod or the fact that Trish had left him with a freezer filled with meals prepared and labeled, complete with microwave instructions.

“No TV?” Josh asked with evident shock. “What did you do?”

“Cursed my family for the most part,” Michael said. He’d also read half the books on the shelves, even the classics that he’d avoided back in school. “Could we drop the sorry saga of my sneaky relatives, please? Just thinking about it is giving me indigestion.”

“What amazes me is not their sneakiness, but your gullibility,” Grace said, ignoring his plea to end the
topic. “Once, maybe, but twice? That radar of yours must be slipping, Michael. You’ve obviously lost your edge. I hope none of your competitors get wind of that.”

He frowned at her taunt. “My edge is just fine, thank you. I got you over here, didn’t I?”

She laughed. “Touché.”

“What does that mean?” Josh asked.

“It means he got the last laugh, at least for now,” Grace told him. “Now eat. Your pancakes are getting cold.”

Jamie regarded Michael worriedly. “If you’re here on some kind of vacation, does that mean this place ain’t yours?”

“No, it
isn’t
mine,” Michael said, in a probably wasted attempt to correct the boy’s pitiful grammar. “It belongs to my sister.”

“Oh,” Jamie said flatly. He looked as disappointed as if Michael had revealed that there was no Santa Claus. Of course, these two probably hadn’t believed in Santa for quite some time, if ever.

“Does that bother you for some reason?” Grace asked Jamie.

“It’s just that it’s real nice, the nicest place we’ve been in a while. Even the barn was real clean.”

“Were you hoping to stick around?” Grace inquired casually.

“Maybe,” Jamie admitted, clearly struggling to keep any hint of real hope out of his voice. “For a little bit. Just till we figure out what to do next. I gotta get a job if I’m gonna take care of me and Josh.”

Michael was about to question what sort of a job
he expected to get at his age, but Grace gave him a subtle signal, as if she knew what he’d been about to say and wanted him to keep silent.

“Where’s home for you guys?” she asked instead, sneaking in the very same question she’d wanted Michael to back away from earlier.

“Ain’t got one,” Jamie said, returning her gaze belligerently.

“Okay, then, where did you run away from?” When they didn’t answer, she said, “You might as well tell us. Otherwise, we’ll just have to call the police so they can check all the missing persons reports.”

Josh regarded them worriedly. “If we say, can we stay here? I can do laundry and make my bed. We won’t be any trouble. Honest.”

It was already too late for that, Michael thought. He was harboring two runaways and a woman he had a desperate desire to kiss senseless. Talk about a weekend fraught with danger.

“No,” he said a little too sharply. He saw the look of betrayal in their eyes and felt like a heel. Before he could stop himself, he moderated the sharp refusal. “Tell us the truth and then we’ll talk about what happens next.”

“You’ll really listen to what we got to say?” Jamie asked skeptically.

“We’ll listen,” Grace promised.

“We gotta tell,” Josh said, regarding his big brother stubbornly. “Maybe they’ll let us stay.”

“I say we don’t,” Jamie insisted. “They’re grown-ups. They’ll just make us go back. They’ll say
they gotta, because it’s the law or something. You want to be separated again, like last time?”

He seemed unaware of just how revealing his question was. Michael was uncomfortably aware of an ache somewhere in the region of his heart. These two were getting to him, no doubt about it. As for Grace, they’d clearly already stolen her heart. She was regarding them sympathetically.

“You were in foster care, weren’t you?” she guessed. “And not together?”

“Uh-huh,” Josh said, shooting a defiant look at his brother. “Nobody would take both of us last time or the time before that. They said we were too much trouble when we were together.”

“I’m old enough to look out for my own kid brother,” Jamie said, regarding them both with his usual belligerence. “We’ll be okay. You don’t have to do nothin’. Soon as we eat, we’ll go.”

“Go where?” Michael asked, feeling as if the kids had sucker punched him. He tried to imagine being separated from Dylan, Jeb and Tyler when they’d been the ages of these boys. He couldn’t. They were bound together by a shared history, by family and by the kind of fierce love and loyalty that only siblings felt despite whatever rivalries existed.

He focused his attention on Jamie, since he was clearly the leader. Josh would trustingly go along with whatever his big brother wanted. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen,” Jamie said, drawing a shocked look from his brother.

“I’d guess thirteen, tops,” Michael said, turning to gauge Josh’s reaction, rather than Jamie’s. The
boy gave him a subtle but unmistakable nod. “How about you, Josh? Eight? Nine?”

“Eight,” Josh admitted readily. He was apparently eager to provide any information that might persuade Michael and Grace to keep the two of them at the ranch. “Last week. That’s when Jamie came for me, on my birthday. We’ve always been together on our birthdays, no matter what. We promised.”

“And that’s a very good promise to try to keep,” Grace said. “Families should stick together whenever they can.”

As she said it, she kept her gaze locked on Michael. He got the message. There were now evidently three against one in the room should he decide to fight for an immediate call to the proper authorities. Grace wasn’t going to turn these two over to anybody who would separate them again, though how she hoped to avoid it was beyond him. There were probably a zillion rules about how to handle this, and he’d brought her here precisely because she knew them. Now she was showing every indication that she might just ignore all zillion of them. For the moment, however, it had to be her call. She was the expert.

“How long have you been in foster care?” she asked, apparently inferring from Michael’s silence that he was willing to withhold judgment until all the facts were in.

“Since Josh was four,” Jamie finally confessed. “We were together in the first place, but then they got mad at me, ’cause I wouldn’t follow all their stupid rules, so I got sent away to another family. They kept Josh till he ran away to find me. When
they dragged him back, he cried and cried, till he made himself sick. Then they said they couldn’t cope with him either.”

Michael swallowed hard at the image of a little boy sobbing his heart out for his big brother. Instead of being treated with compassion, he’d been sent away. What kind of monsters did that to a child? He glanced at Grace and thought he detected tears in her eyes.