Stand-In Father (Intimate Moments) (19 page)

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Authors: Pat Warren

BOOK: Stand-In Father (Intimate Moments)
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Alex sat down on the couch across from his father and fixed his tea. “So why are you really here, Dad?”
Reseating himself, Ron Shephard had known his son would see through his excuse. He didn’t much care. Alex had been gone too long with only vague phone calls. He’d decided to see for himself just what was keeping him in this small town. After watching the eye contact between his son and the young woman who’d just left, Ron thought he’d found the reason. But first things first.
“How are you feeling, son? No adverse reactions?”
“None whatsoever. Is my health the reason you’re here?”
“The better question is, why are you here for several weeks on a land purchase that could easily have been tied up in two days tops, then finalized by phone and mail?”
Alex tasted his tea, then set down the glass and sat back.
“Things are moving rather slowly. People in this small town don’t hurry. I just came from a meeting with the bank. The feasibility study you sent me was very favorable, as you know. The financing’s all set. But my second meeting with the Parsons family didn’t result in signed paperwork. Yet. The two sisters are ready to roll, but the son’s holding out. I’ve given them a week to accept our offer or I’ll withdraw it.”
Ron’s lips twitched. “So, you have been working.”
Alex tried to look surprised. “What else did you think I was doing up here?”
Pointedly, Ron sent a look in the direction Megan Delaney had just disappeared. “She’s very lovely.”
Alex shifted in his seat, cleared his throat. There was no point in denying the obvious. “Yes, she is.”
His hands relaxed on the arms of the chair, Ron studied his son. Alex looked healthy enough, his tan even deeper, so he had to be spending some time outdoors. But there was something about him that was different. He didn’t meet his father’s eyes for very long, as if distracted or nervous. Or deliberately evasive.
“I talked with Mitch. Finally got him to open up. You hired a private investigator, I understand.”
Alex sighed. He’d specifically instructed Mitch to say nothing to his father. But Alex knew only too well how persuasive Ron could be.
His father guessed what he was thinking. “Don’t blame Mitch. I forced his hand.” Again, Ron glanced toward the arch leading to the foyer and lowered his voice. “What were you thinking?”
“Listen, Dad, you did what you thought best in securing my transplant and didn’t seek my advice. I also had something I had to do. It’s as simple as that.”
Ron knew his son was as stubborn as he was, a fact that made dealing with him difficult. “Did you tell her? Does she know the real reason you’re here?”
Alex frowned. “The reason I’m here is to purchase land for our company. Anything else is...is my personal business.”
“Alex, you have nothing to atone for, nothing to feel guilty about. Neal Delaney would have died during surgery. If the man was that ill, he probably would have died on the operating table.”
“Probably?”
“That’s good enough for me.”
“Not for me.” Growing angry, Alex rose, walked to the window and stood looking out. “He wouldn’t have been on the list if his chances of survival weren’t good.”
After a long minute, Ron strolled over, wishing he had a better argument. “So what is it you hope to accomplish by coming here, by befriending his widow?”
“I don’t honestly know. I only know I had to do something. He left her with no money. She has a son, eight years old. She works twelve hours a day running this place, then bakes for two more and sells the stuff in town. It’s not fair.”
Ron placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Life’s not fair, son. It wasn’t fair that your mother died. Nor Patrick.”
“I know.” Alex lowered his gaze to the row of African violets on the low sill, all six in bloom. Megan had a way with plants and flowers and food and kids. And she’d managed to enchant a certain man who’d never been so confused in his life.
Ron wore a worried frown. “Are you attracted to this woman, Alex? And if so, is it for the right reasons? Pity is a rotten basis for a relationship.”
Alex moved away, his anger resurfacing. “I don’t pity her. I just feel she’s had a lot of bad breaks. And the boy, too.” He decided not to mention that he felt a need to try to make up for Megan and her son’s hardships, sure his father wouldn’t understand.
Ron decided to take another tack. “I also came to see you because I have a project I’d like you to oversee.”
Suspicious at the abrupt change, Alex looked up. “What would that be?”
“You might recall there’s this property in England that my grandfather left me.” Relaxing somewhat, Ron shoved his hands into his pants pockets, trying to sound casual. He didn’t especially want his son to travel so far away, but a short trip might get his mind off this guilt foolishness. “It’s been years since I’ve inspected it. I’d like you to fly over, check it out, see what we can do with it. Maybe sell as is, or make improvements and then put it up. See what the current zoning is and the market value. That sort of thing. Possibly even build on it. Who knows?”
Alex smiled. He couldn’t help it. The man was so patently obvious. “Dad, that land’s been yours for fifty years or more. I’m sure it can wait. It’s not going to work, sending me off on some obscure junket. I’m not going anywhere until this situation is settled to my satisfaction.”
Ron wasn’t licked yet. “What about the next America’s Cup race? Aren’t you planning to get your boat in shape for that? When you went into the hospital, you vowed you’d be healthy enough to enter the next one.”
Alex nodded, remembering. “I did say that. Things change, Dad. Priorities shift. Maybe next year.” Funny, what little appeal that race held for him right now. He clapped his father on the back as he edged him toward the exit. “Be patient with me. I’ve got to work this out my way.”
In the foyer at the door, Ron turned to his son. “All right, but one thing you must do. You owe it to Megan Delaney to tell her the truth, to explain the real reason you’re here.” And maybe she’d have the good sense to send him away.
“I will.” He embraced his father somewhat awkwardly, then watched him don sunglasses, walk to his Lincoln and get in. His expression thoughtful, Alex stood in the doorway as the big car with the tinted windows drove off.
In the dining room folding napkins, Megan looked up. It had been impossible to avoid overhearing them at the door. What had Ron Shephard meant when he’d said that Alex owed it to her to tell her the truth? What was the real reason Alex was here, if not to conduct his business?
What was Alex hiding?
Chapter 8
M
egan stepped out into the twilight of the backyard, intent on taking down the last load of linens from the clothesline. The dryer had finally given up the ghost.
Dinner was finished, dishes and baking done, her son safely in his bed. One more chore before she could get off her feet and put them. up. Her right foot still gave her twinges of pain.
Walking carefully, she reached up to unfasten a top sheet, inhaling the clean fragrance of laundry dried out in the open air. The dryer was faster certainly and less work, but nothing smelled like things straight off the line. However, she’d have foregone the pleasure if only the work-worn old machine had held up a bit longer.
Folding the sheet and placing it in the basket, she sighed. Always something. Grace had wanted her to call Eddie Jenkins, but Megan decided to face facts. She was only throwing good money after bad, constantly repairing a dryer that was destined for the discard pile. How to find the money for a new one was the problem.
Credit was another, Megan thought as she tossed clothespins into a canvas bag that hung by a wire on the line. If only Neal hadn’t ruined their credit by buying so much, then ignoring the monthly payments, she might have been able to charge a new dryer. As it was, no place would take a chance on her past credit history, even though she’d paid off Neal’s most pressing debts. In time maybe, but not yet.
Nevertheless, Megan knew she couldn’t get by for long without a dryer. Reaching for the next sheet, she found herself frowning, something she did all too often lately. Who wouldn’t frown faced with her problems? Her foot still ached, though not nearly as badly as before. Naturally, it would heal faster if she remained off it. But she couldn’t let Grace shoulder so much of the work.
While drying the many sheets, towels and table linens outdoors was an option, it clearly was too time-consuming and required more ironing. She’d simply have to give in and use some of the money she’d been saving to bring her mortgage payments up to date and buy a new dryer tomorrow. Maybe if she stopped in and had another chat with Mr. Williams at the bank, she could buy some time.
Lord, how she hated to keep asking for favors, for extensions, for loans. When would she ever get caught up? Maybe she should just sell Delaney’s Bed & Breakfast, take a small apartment for herself and Ryan and get a job where she earned a paycheck every Friday. What a relief it would be not to have to worry constantly.
She placed another sheet in the basket and moved to the second line for the remaining towels. The problem there was that the inn needed work before anyone would want to buy it. And she had no money for repairs, either. And how could she get rid of the only home Ryan had ever known? She’d fought with Neal about purchasing the old house until he’d given in because she didn’t want their son to grow up in the same vagabond existence she’d had, moving often, one jump ahead of bill collectors. Yet despite her best efforts, she was in basically the same boat that had nearly sunk her mother. Round and round her thoughts went, circling like a trapped mouse in a maze. There had to be a way out of this mess she’d made of her life, but what was it?
She still owed a substantial amount of money, she was worried that she would have to let her son down, and her emotions were in a jumble because of Alex Shephard. Mysterious, enigmatic, evasive Alex, with his keen sense of humor, that killer smile and a sixth sense about children. And a mouth that made her throat go dry and her knees weaken.
He’d been oddly scarce this evening, most probably in his room, for his car was out front. Even when he wasn’t in her line of vision, she was painfully aware of his presence.
Wanting a man like that, even fantasizing about him, was an unexpected annoyance. Maybe in her teens, she’d felt like this, Megan admitted. But certainly not since, and not very exuberantly then. Years ago, she’d come to grips with the fact that she’d gone after Neal Delaney more out of a desperate desire to get out of her mother’s unhappy household than a wild desire for him as a man. Too late she’d learned to regret that foolish ambition.
But Alex was another story. Just last night, she’d awakened in a sweat, tangled in the sheets, finding herself struggling with the remnants of a dream where he’d been holding her, kissing her, making love with her. As dreams are wont to do, their union was perfect, of course. That was truly a fantasy she would surely regret if she ever gave in to it.
Pausing, Megan straightened up from the basket, her hand involuntarily touching the small scar beneath her bangs near her hairline. Odd how all this time later, she still vividly remembered that night when—
“Penny for your thoughts,” Alex said, standing on the edge of the patio.
Startled, Megan jumped, so wrapped up in her dismal thoughts that she hadn’t heard the back door open. She rearranged her features before turning to see him standing in a splash of moonlight. Darkness had moved in quickly. “I’m afraid you’d get change tonight.”
Casually, he strolled toward her. “Can’t be that bad, can it?” He glanced over at the last few towels as she reached up to remove them, having heard about the problem from Grace in the kitchen minutes ago. “Is it the death of your dryer that’s got you frowning?”
That was only the last straw, but she’d let him think what he would. “Pretty good reason, wouldn’t you say?”
Tomorrow, he’d see about a dryer for her. He wouldn’t tell her, just order it. “I guess so.”
Determined to stop her melancholy meanderings, Megan changed the subject. “You certainly resemble your father.”
“So everyone says.” He scooted the clothespin bag closer to her. “He’s a good father, even if he worries too much.”
“That’s a parent’s prerogative, to worry about their children.”
“Did Neal worry a great deal about Ryan?”
“Neal worried about Neal.” Now why had she let that slip out? Megan wondered as she dropped the last folded towel into the basket. “I’m sorry. I’m a little tired and I don’t want to talk about Neal tonight.”
“Why, Megan? Because he not only didn’t take care of his health, but he didn’t take very good care of his family, running up debts, almost bankrupting you?” In the patchy moonlight, he saw her eyes go wide, then suddenly turn sad.
“Yes, that’s exactly why.” She was tired of fencing, of alibiing, of pretending. Guiltily, she glanced toward Ryan’s upstairs bedroom window, worried that he might somehow overhear. Guilt, a constant companion. “Forget I said that. I shouldn’t be telling you such personal things.”
Alex stepped closer, so close she couldn’t avoid looking at him. “It’s too late for that. I already know.”
Her silvery blue eyes studied his face. “Grace. I should have guessed.”
“Don’t be angry with her. I kept after her. I had to know.” His hands settled at her waist.
Megan felt the heat of his touch through her clothes. “Why?”
The humiliation of the debts was bad enough, but Grace had hinted at Neal’s unfaithfulness, as well. That had to have hurt even more. Alex wanted to let her know that her husband’s roving eye wasn’t her fault, because he had a feeling she blamed herself. The injured party generally did.
“Neal was a fool to look elsewhere when he had a treasure like you right here in his home.”
So he knew that, too, or perhaps had guessed. Still, she had a small measure of pride left. “Don’t say that. You don’t know what happened between us. Neal needed more than I could give him.” Like constant bolstering, daily praise to prop up his low self-esteem and tons of affection to build up his deflated ego. Seeing to his many needs had worn her ragged.
Alex felt a spurt of anger start simmering. “And just what was it that you weren’t able to give him?”
Averting her eyes, Megan shrugged. “Oh, you know.”
“No, I don’t know.” He slid his hands along her forearms, so close to her now that they were toe to toe, so near he could smell the delicate fragrance of her shampoo as a light breeze shifted a lock of her hair. “Tell me.”
She might as well tell him and then maybe he’d back off, go home and stop messing up her head. Taking a deep breath, she met his gaze. “All the things a man needs from a woman—respect, understanding, admiration, affection, unconditional love. You can let go of me because I have nothing to offer you, either.”
“Did he give
you
all those things? Marriage is a two-way street, I’ve heard.”
“A man doesn’t stray if he’s happy at home. Apparently, Neal didn’t care enough for me to want to stay.”
He hated hearing her defeated tone. “That’s odd because I’ve wanted you almost from the first moment I saw you.” He reached to skim his thumb lazily along her bottom lip, heard her sharp intake of breath. “I want you even more now. And you feel the same.”
Megan did her best to ignore the thrill of anticipation that skittered along her spine. “No,” she lied. “You’re seeing what you want to see, not what is really there.”
He trailed a hand up her back, his fingers stopping to massage her vulnerable nape. “Tsk, tsk, Megan. You can lie to me, but you shouldn’t lie to yourself.” As if to emphasize his words, he drew her closer.
“You’re trying to convince me that I want you, but it’s not working.” How had her hands wound up against his chest, nervously fidgeting, clutching his shirt?
“Isn’t it?” Against his own, he felt her heart thud, then skip a beat. He almost smiled before he planted a light kiss on the corner of her mouth. Involuntarily, she turned toward the kiss.
Megan shuddered, realizing she was fighting a losing battle here. But she couldn’t back down. “I thought I told you I’m not a physical person. I won’t go to bed with you just to prove that.”
Alex’s eyes narrowed and his hands on her shoulders tightened. “Is that all you think I want? Because if it was, we’d have been wrestling in the sheets long before this, and you damn well know it.” He banked the quick surge of rage at the ex-husband who’d made her doubt herself so much that she’d deny herself the pleasure of her own sensuality.
“If not that, then what is it you want from me?” Sensing his exasperation, knowing she’d inadvertently caused it, gave her the courage to speak up, to be honest. “I’m no match for you in this department, Alex. I can’t swim with the sharks. I’m a small-town girl, and I’ve been with only one man in my entire life. Don’t toy with me. I don’t know how to handle it.”
All anger drained from him. He believed her. “I’m not toying with you.”
She shook her head, feeling lost. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
His hands slid into her hair, his fingers gripping her head and moving it closer to his. “This.” His mouth captured hers as he dragged her against him. He couldn’t seem able to-convince her with words, so he had to use other means. His lips dominated, his hands roamed, his hips ground into hers, his meaning clear. His actions spoke volumes, their message unmistakable: He wanted her.
A frighteningly helpless passion exploded inside Megan as she clung to him, her hands clutching the fabric of his shirt at his back now, holding on to stay upright. She could taste his frustration mingling with her own. She could feel the heat that leaped between the two of them and spread like a wildfire raging out of control.
Shamelessly, she let his aroused body inflame her, her needs moving to a new plateau. How was it that this man could make her feel things she’d scarcely let herself dream of before, feelings that would match her restless dreams, when her husband hadn’t been able to awaken this same kind of desire in her? Could she have been blaming herself when all along Neal had been the lousy lover?
But there was no time to think about the past, no time to ponder, only time to feel. Alex’s hands snaked beneath her loose top and moved around front, touching bare flesh, and this time she let him. When his fingers closed over her breasts, she felt her knees buckle and would have fallen if his strong arms hadn’t held her pressed tightly to his heated body.
Always, Alex had thought of himself as a tender, gentle lover, considerate and slow, never rushing to fulfill his own needs. Yet it had been so very long, and these past few weeks, always close to Megan yet not close enough, had taken their toll. And now, with Megan here in his arms, her mouth wild and frantic on his, demanding more the way he’d dreamed she would, he could only struggle to keep up.
He could feel her straining against him, this woman who would try to deny she wanted him. Beneath his palm, his fingers encircling her soft breasts, her heart did a staccato beat. He slanted his mouth over hers and heard her moan his name while her taste drove him crazy. He could have her now, he knew, right this minute. He could drag her under the big old tree silently waiting to hold the tree house he had yet to finish. Or he could carry her up to his room and take all night to learn every inch of her.
And then what? a small, rational voice inside his head asked.
Because if he followed through, if he took her now even as willing as she was, there would be nothing left between them in the morning. Not friendship or a relationship, not even respect.
Abruptly, he eased his hold on her and took a step back. He gazed into dark blue eyes still hazy with passion and a hint of confusion.
I don’t know what you want from me
, she’d told him. Small wonder, He didn’t know himself.

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