Tidings of Great Joy - Couverture rigide

Brown, Sandra

Couverture rigide

ISBN 10 : 0553104039 ISBN 13 : 9780553104035

Editeur : Bantam Dell Pub Group, 1997

A propos du livre

Extrait :

"May I come in?" he asked politely. If he had had a hat, it would have been in hand.

"No."

"Please?"

"Why?"

"I want to talk to you."

"And hurl more ugly accusations? No, thank you, Mr.MacKensie." Ria started to close the door. He stuck out his hand and caught it.

Ria looked at him closely. What she saw made her feel better. If his appearance was any indication, he'd had a hellish day. His dark hair was mussed. His tie had been loosened and the collar button on his shirt undone. He was holding his suit coat over his shoulder by the crook of his finger. He looked haggard and worried and tired. For a man who had gone through a heated campaign with nary a wrinkle, his dishevelment was a dead giveaway that he'd suffered some recent mental anguish.

Too bad, Ria thought. She refused to be moved to pity, not after the things he'd said to her. "Just go away and leave me alone. Forget everything I said this morning."

"I can't."

"I never should have told you."

"Of course you should have."

Annoyed, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, while still blocking his entrance. "Need I remind you, Mr. MacKensie, that you didn't take the news too well? You were insulting and abusive."

"That's one of the reasons I'm here, to apologize for my knee-jerk reaction. Grant me one point."

"What?" she asked cautiously.

"That my initial reaction was just a teensy bit justified."

His eyes were intensely blue. They were set off by his dark hair and tanned face. Wary of their persuasiveness, Ria lowered her gaze to his vest. But that, too, evoked memories. Was it really possible that she had once unbuttoned his vest in a lustful hurry to touch him? Had her fingers fumbled in their rush to gain access to him? She couldn't imagine reaching out to touch him now.

She cleared her throat uneasily. Reasoning that she owed him the courtesy of accepting his apology, she decided to be conciliatory. "I suppose that what I had to tell you did come as quite a shock."

"Then will you please let me come in, Ria?"

Maybe it was because he addressed her by name. She couldn't explain it to herself afterward. But for whatever reason, she stepped aside. He came in. She closed the door behind him and they were alone.

The room had changed. It was filled with golden afternoon sunlight rather than flickering firelight. The fireplace had been cleaned out and a potted philodendron with leaves as large and flat as place mats stood in front of the brass screen. A leafy ficus occupied the spot where the Christmas tree had been.

"You have a green thumb," he remarked.

She inclined her head in acknowledgment of the compliment and indicated a chair. She sat down in a bentwood rocker. Both of them avoided the sofa, looking past it as though it weren't there. The room might have changed with the season, but the atmosphere still teemed with vivid and disturbing memories of a snowy night.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"Not if that's all you've got." He nodded toward the glass sitting on the end table beside the rocker. "What is that?"

"Alka-Seltzer."

"Are you sick?"

"I get indigestion every afternoon."

"Oh."

"I can get you a soft drink," Ria offered. "Or something stronger."

"No, thanks."

A clock was ticking. It seemed very loud. The rocker squeaked slightly each time it moved to and fro. Whenever their eyes accidentally met, they guiltily looked away, like children who'd been caught playing doctor the day before.

Ria wished she hadn't changed out of her tailored suit and into the old jeans and T-shirt. She wished she had on a brassiere. She wished she had on shoes. She knew that she needed to take a firm stand with this man. Bare feet weren't a very reassuring platform. Her hair was a mess. After taking down her bun, she'd only shaken it out. It hung unbrushed and untamed around her shoulders.

She knew the strain of the last twenty-four hours was evident on her face. She hadn't been able to hold down much food lately. Her cheeks were gaunt. No amount of Erase would hide the violet crescents beneath her eyes. She hadn't slept at all the night before, worrying over her dilemma and planning what she was going to say to Councilman MacKensie the next morning.

In the end she had decided to take the straightforward, honest approach. And just look what honesty had gotten her. His temper. His suspicion. His contempt.

"How long have you lived here?"

She roused herself to answer his conversational question. "Going on three years. Ever since I started working at Bishop and Harvey."

"It's a nice house."

"Thank you."

"Cozy."

"Uh-huh."

"Did you decorate it yourself?"

"Yes."

"This is a good neighborhood."

"The city keeps the garbage picked up and the streets repaired," she said, smiling sickly.

"Ah, well, that's good to hear." His smile was just as puny as hers. "It felt almost like spring today."

"Yes. I saw some daffodils already in bloom."

Sitting on the edge of his chair, his knees widespread, Taylor stared at the hardwood floor between his feet. The fingers of one hand were nervously doing push-ups against the fingers of the other. He forced a cough. "When, uh, when did you know about, uh, the, uh, baby?"

From all she'd read, heard, and experienced firsthand about Taylor MacKensie, stuttering was totally out of character. His voice frequently rang out in the City Council chambers as he waxed eloquently and intelligently on the topics presented for the council's review. His campaign speeches had been incisive, amusing, and articulate. Reporters' questions, even the most probing or complex, never left him at a loss for words.

It was gratifying to know that he was as uneasy now as she had been that morning before entering his office. Diving off the cliffs at Acapulco couldn't compare to how she'd felt when she'd walked through that door and faced him for the first time since Christmas morning. Especially in light of what she had to tell him.

"When did I know?" Ria kept her eyes averted. "I missed a period."

He fidgeted on the edge of his seat. "I understand that happens sometimes."

"It does. But never to me. I'm always like clockwork."

This time it was she who coughed. It flustered her to talk about such personal things to this stranger. Well, not exactly"stranger." Yes, this stranger. What did she really know about him? That he was handsome. That he knew how to open a bottle of champagne correctly. That he was a good driver on snowy streets. That he could charm the pants off a woman. Literally.

She began again. "I started feeling sick...not really sick, just..." She foundered, looking for a word that precisely described that bloated feeling, that lassitude, that inability to draw enough breath, that feeling of being full to bursting even when she was hungry. There wasn't a word descriptive enough. "There were just symptoms," she said conclusively.

"Like what?"

"Upset stomach. Emotional instability. Itchy--"

He cocked his head inquisitively. "itchy...?"

"Breasts," she supplied huskily, having to force the word through her lips.

"Oh." He looked down at her chest and kept looking in that vicinity for a long, uncomfortable time. "I'm sorry."

She crossed her arms over her stomach, wishing she could place her hands over her breasts to shield her hardening nipples from his piercing eyes. "You know the symptoms," she said shortly.

Taylor looked completely baffled. "Yeah, I guess."

"Then I skipped another period last month. I finally went to the doctor yesterday, and he confirmed my own diagnosis. My due date is September twenty-sixth."

He expulsed a deep breath. The jury had just brought in a guilty verdict. "I guess that cinches it."

"There was never any doubt about the child's father, despite what you might think of my sex life, Mr. MacKensie."

"Make it Taylor, okay?" he demanded crossly.

Just as crossly she said,"Regardless of your 'experience' with me, as you so ungallantly referred to it, I don't sleep around."

"Forgive me for saying that. I shouldn't have."
Her angry outburst had exhausted her. Her shoulders slumped, and she rested her head on the caned back of her chair. "I suppose you had every right to think that." Her soft laugh was bitter and self-disparaging. "On Christmas Eve, I was an easy lay."

"Don't say that."

"Well, wasn't I?" She raised her head and looked at him directly.

"I never thought that. Then or now."

"You thought that this morning."

He ran a weary hand down his face and blew out another gust of carbon dioxide. "We're going in circles and getting nowhere." He held her gaze for a moment. "Look, I don't think you're an easy lay. Because if you are, then I am. And I'm more discriminating than your average tomcat.

"So let's just drop whatever recriminations we're harboring, self-imposed or otherwise, and try to figure out what we're going to do about the consequences, okay?" Ria only nodded. "What about this guy you told me you're seeing? The one with the elderly mother in Florida."

&quo...

Présentation de l'éditeur :

From the author who knows all the secrets of a woman's heart comes a tantalizing tale of holiday romance—as a young woman discovers how a night of passion can change your life, and your dreams, forever....

Ria Lavender is the last woman in the world to be swept away by a smooth line and a seductive smile. A talented architect, she's just beginning to savor the fruits of her success when she meets a man who will change everything.

Mayor-Elect Taylor MacKensie is handsome, charming, and charismatic. Still, Ria never imagines that she'll leave a Christmas party with him, or that, caught up in the magic of a snowfall and a bottle of champagne, she'll give in to desire. Eight weeks later, Ria knows she's carrying Taylor's child.

To give their baby a name, Ria persuades Taylor to marry her—at least temporarily. But while Ria soon feels a surprising tenderness—and passion—for Taylor, she fears his prime concern is protecting his career. Ria vows to keep her distance from the man who holds the key to her heart...until life teaches them both a lesson in miracles—and love.

À propos de cette édition

• Éditeur: Bantam Dell Pub Group
• Date d'édition: 1997
• ISBN 10: 0553104039
• ISBN 13: 9780553104035
• Reliure: Relié
• Nombre de pages: 195