Almost Like Love(14)

Although the thought of sweeping into the reception hall with Ian Hart on her arm was very, very tempting.

In more ways than one.

And that was the other reason she needed to cancel this fake date. The last thing she needed while navigating the waters of unemployment and a broken engagement was the confusing distraction of lustful feelings for a man she’d always despised.

So it was decided. She’d take a shower, get dressed, and jot down a few bullet points about what she’d say. Once she was well prepared, she’d sit down at her desk and make the call.

Her phone rang.

She was so lost in thought she jumped, spilling coffee down the front of her pajamas. The phone was on the table next to the armchair, and she grabbed for it as she pulled off her stained pajama top, using it to sop up the coffee that had spilled on the floor.

“Hello?”

“Is this Kate Meredith?”

It was Ian.

An electric feeling went through her. Unable to speak, she froze with the phone in her hand.

This was the exact opposite of the circumstances in which she’d wanted this conversation to take place. She’d planned to be distant, polite, well prepared, and fully clothed. Instead, she was kneeling in a puddle of coffee with her hair sticking up in all directions . . . and she was topless.

Of course, since this was a phone call, there was no reason Ian had to know any of that. She could still sound fully clothed, right?

She cleared her throat. “Yes, this is Kate.”

“Hi, Kate. It’s Ian Hart.”

No kidding. “Hi, Ian.”

There was a moment of silence, and Kate was about to say something to fill it, when she stopped herself. He was the one who’d called her, after all. It was up to him to tell her what he wanted.

Oh, God—she knew what he wanted. He was going to cancel on Jessica’s wedding.

Well, that was good. Right? It was the same thing she wanted.

Except she’d been planning to ditch him, instead of the other way around.

“You’re probably wondering why I called. This is a little embarrassing, but—”

“It’s fine,” she interrupted. “I know what you’re going to say.”

“You do?” He sounded bewildered, and Kate wondered suddenly if she might be wrong.

“I . . . that is . . . why don’t you tell me?” she said after a moment, wishing like hell she had clothes on. The sound of Ian’s sexy baritone voice affected her like a caress, causing her bare nipples to pucker and tighten.

She went over to the couch and grabbed the quilt she kept there, wrapping it around her torso before sitting down. That was a little better.

“Okay. Here’s the thing.” He hesitated, and Kate bit her lip. He was going to cancel on her.

“I was at the club last night for a bachelor party. My friend’s wedding is tonight, and my babysitter just cancelled on me.”

Babysitter? Ian had kids?

No—that couldn’t be. There was no way the female employees at the network, who had assembled quite a dossier on him, would have missed that piece of personal info.

“I didn’t realize you had children,” she said cautiously.

“I don’t. It’s my nephew. He’s been living with me since his mother died.”

His mother. Was that Ian’s sister?

“It’s an adults-only reception, and even though I’m sure my friend would understand if I had to bring Jacob, it would be awkward. And since he’s eleven, I’m sure the last thing he wants to do is go to a wedding—especially when he’d be the only kid there.”

Was he looking for recommendations for professional babysitters? The best ones wouldn’t be available on short notice, but—

“I’ve tried a few services, but they’re booked up. And anyway, I’d be more comfortable with someone I know.” He paused. “Unfortunately, anyone I know well enough to ask for a favor like this is going to Mick’s wedding, too.”

The reason for Ian’s call finally dawned on her.

He needed a babysitter.

A swirl of emotions went through her. Relief that he wasn’t blowing her off for Jessica’s wedding, even though she had every intention of blowing him off. Annoyance that he thought he knew her well enough to ask a favor like this. And underneath all that, an unexpected feeling of disappointment. A part of her had wondered if maybe, just maybe, he was calling to ask her out on a real date.

Which was crazy, of course. He’d made it clear last night that he had no romantic intentions towards her, and even if she weren’t still reeling from a breakup, Ian Hart was the last man on earth she’d want to go out with.

“So,” he continued, “I was wondering if you might be willing to do it. I’d send a car to pick you up and take you home again, and of course I’d pay you whatever you think is fair.”