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Sheltered by the Millionaire(15)

By:Catherine Mann


And then Megan was alone with Whit for the first time since before  Thanksgiving. She searched for something to say to fill the awkward  silence, finally asking, "What was Stella Daniels doing here?"

She tried not to let her gaze roam all over Whit. No easy task, that.

"She came to ask for help out at town hall. They're still plowing through debris and there's concern about lost files."

"If anyone can restore order in the chaos, Stella can." The town was  lucky to have someone so competent leading recovery efforts during such a  tumultuous time. "She's done some great work in organizing  reconstruction during the mayor's recovery."

Mayor Vance had suffered massive injuries while working out of the town  hall when the tornado hit. Stella seemed unsure of herself at times,  but she was proactive in rounding up help where it was needed. And the  Cattleman's Club was definitely the place to check, full of powerful  movers and shakers in the community.                       
       
           



       

"The club is all in to do what we can." Whit's molten brown eyes held  her for another long instant, making her skin tingle. "How was your  Thanksgiving?"

She swallowed hard, thinking about how she'd been too much of a coward  to return his calls. "Evie and I had a feast of chicken nuggets and  sweet potato fries, then made turkey paintings using our handprints. The  front of my refrigerator is full of artwork." She paused for an instant  before asking, "How was your Thanksgiving?"

"Lonely," he said simply, without even a hint of self-pity, more like a statement of fact.

Surprise kicked through her, quickly followed by guilt that he'd spent  the day alone after reaching out to her. "You didn't spend the day with  friends?"

"They have families, like you do." He shrugged his broad shoulders.  "But hey, it wasn't a total wash. I watched ball games and ate a catered  meal."

The Whit she'd spent time with recently, the Whit who was standing here  with her now, didn't fit the image of the man she'd known for over  three years. She wasn't sure what to make of him now. She'd been so sure  he was a wealthy, ruthless charmer.

Maybe he really was just a nice guy who wanted to be with her. What the  hell was wrong with her that she'd been upset because the man had acted  like a gentleman and didn't jump all over her during their trip? "I'm  sorry you spent the day alone. After all you did for the shelter it was  small of me not to include you in my Thanksgiving."

"I didn't want you to include me in your holiday out of gratitude." He  looked past her, trees rustling overhead. "Where's Evie today?"

"Playing with Miss Abigail's great nieces." She took the brownies back  from him under the guise of securing the lid but really to occupy her  jittery hands. It had been Evie's idea to give the extra brownies to  Whit, but Megan had been wary of showing up on his doorstep. Bringing  baked goods to the whole Club offered her a face-saving option.

A smile played with his mouth, a sexy mouth that kissed like sin. "What's our princess dressed as today?"

Our? Had he noticed the slip of the tongue?

"She wanted to be a zombie, but I thought that was a little dark for a  kid that young. We opted for a mummy, like 'Monster Mash.'"

"Good call." He frowned, his hand tucking under the brim of his Stetson  to scratch his head before he settled the hat back into place. "She's  still having a tough time?"

"I've talked to the day-care director about it. Sue Ellen suggested  some videos and books with tips on how to promote discussion with a  child after a traumatic experience. I have the name of a counselor too."  She swallowed hard. "I hope we won't need to use it. I figured I would  give her another week to ease back into a routine. Hopefully she'll get  excited about Christmas celebrations at school."

"Hopefully," he echoed.

She should go. She reached and opened the container, releasing the  intoxicating scent of chocolate. "Would you like an advance sampling of  the brownies as an olive branch? Well, a chocolate kind of olive  branch?"

She took one out to offer it.

He leaned in to bite off a corner of the brownie while she still held  it. "Hmmm..." He hummed his appreciation as he chewed. "Damn, these are  good."

His praise warmed her on a chilly day. "I'll take that as a compliment,  coming from a man who can afford to eat at the best of the best  restaurants."

"The cooking service I use has never brought anything as good as this."  He popped the rest of the brownie in his mouth and reached for another.

"Over-the-top flattery." She scrunched her nose and set the container aside on the golf cart. "That can't be true."

"Sure it is." His smile was as bright as the dappled sunlight in the  tree branches. "A cooking service is a luxury, but it's a necessity for  me unless I want to eat at a restaurant every night, which I do not. I  get to kick back in front of my television at night like a normal guy."                       
       
           



       

"A normal guy with a cooking service." She toyed with a strand of lights dangling off the cart.

"A cooking service I may have to fire since apparently they have been feeding me substandard brownies."

Damn it. How could she not like a guy who said things like that? She couldn't hide a smile.

"Evie and I will make some more just for you to thank you for the  flight." The offer fell from her mouth before she could overthink it.

"I should say no, given how busy you are. But I'm going to be utterly selfish and accept." He finished off the second brownie.

"It's the least I can do after all your help. And you were so patient with Evie last weekend."

"That's a good thing. So why are you frowning?"

And there was the crux of things, her real reason for coming here with  the brownies when she knew she would run into Whit. "My daughter is  hungry for a father figure in her life. I just don't want her to build  false hopes based on some nice gestures from you."

"Is that why you turned down my request to spend Thanksgiving together?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, in part," she said carefully.

"You gotta know I think she's a great kid and I enjoy her company as well."

Yet another reason to like Whit. His affection for Evie was genuine.

Megan sagged back against a fat oak tree, bark rough even through her  thick sweater and jeans. "She's a kid in a fragile state of mind. I'm  not...comfortable risking anything upsetting her."

"Okay, okay...." Exhaling hard, he pressed a hand to the tree trunk,  just above her head. "I can see where you're coming from on that, given  the tiara and tornado-butt-kicking costumes."

"I'm glad you understand my predicament. I'm her mother. I have to put her needs first."

"You're a great mom too, from everything I've seen." His head angled  closer. "I have to wonder though. Why did you kiss me in the hotel? Call  me arrogant, but I wasn't mistaken in thinking you're interested...."  He stroked her loose hair back over her shoulder. "Unless you were using  me as a one-night stand. In which case you should be upfront about  that. I'm not passing judgment. Just asking for honesty."

His touch sent a shiver down her spine. "Point taken."

"Exactly." His hand glided down to her shoulder blade, his fingers tangled in her hair.

Thank heaven everyone was inside, though the possibility that someone  could catch sight of them through a window helped keep her in check. And  heaven knew she needed all the help she could get to restrain her from  throwing herself at him again. Her daughter's well-being had to be first  and foremost in her mind.

"Whit, I'm just asking you not to use her to get to me. She's a little  kid who still believes in fairy tales where princesses can always win in  the end."

"What about her mom?" He cupped the back of her neck, massaging lightly. "What does she believe in?"

His question stunned her silent for three heartbeats. "What does that matter?"

"Because, honest to God, I want to get to know you better."

His words filled the space between them with so much hope and  possibility, she was scared as hell to step out on that ledge and risk a  big fall.

So she settled for sarcasm. "You want to sleep with me."

"True enough." He eased his hand around to palm her cheek, caressing with his thumb. "Can you deny you're attracted to me?"

"Your ego is not your most attractive quality."

He chuckled softly. "What is, then?"

"Searching for compliments?" She tipped her chin. "I wouldn't have expected that from you."