it.” Miranda punched the erase button again. She had gone out with Robbie once, but she had no interest in seeing him again. Last time he’d been so grabby she’d finished the evening with unwelcome fingerprints all over her body. She didn’t care for the steamroller approach to seduction, and she had made it quite clear to Robbie that she would be the one to decide when—or if—their casual dating took the next step.
She had decided it wouldn’t. Robbie was history.
The next male voice that issued from her answering machine was as brusquely businesslike as Robbie’s had been presumptuously intimate, but this time Miranda’s knees showed a distinct inclination to jellify. “Hi, Miranda, it’s Mark Wallace. I have your tax returns ready. You can stop by my office anytime tomorrow to sign them. If I’m tied up, my assistant can take care of everything for you.”
Lordy, but Mark Wallace had a voice that could make a woman’s heart get an aerobic workout, Miranda mused, her finger hovering over the erase button. Warm, deep, with just a faintly rough edge, his was a voice that made her fantasize about sweet nothings and pillow talk. Okay, so the man was off-limits—but there was nothing wrong with a little fantasizing, right?
She indulged herself for a few minutes in a pleasantly naughty daydream involving his big, glossy desk. And then she sighed regretfully and made herself push the erase button.
She finally decided to take in a movie—alone. There were times when she just didn’t feel particularly social, and this was one of them. She would be surrounded by people, but she wouldn’t have to make conversation with any of them. Perfect for her mood tonight.
There were only a few theater choices in Little Rock. She drove to the one she usually patronized, since it provided stadium-style seating and what she considered the best popcorn in town.
She wanted a film that was mindless, noisy and action-filled, with a high pretty-boy factor. There was just such a movie playing this evening. She stood in a line filled mostly with teenagers and bought her ticket, then joined another line to buy popcorn and a drink.
Clutching her snacks, she turned away from the counter and almost ran smack dab into Mark Wallace. Talk about coincidences…
Holding a blond toddler on his left hip and the hand of his older daughter in his right hand, Mark looked as surprised as Miranda was to see him.
“This is really freaky,” she said. “I just heard your voice on my machine less than an hour ago.”
He smiled. “It’s certainly a coincidence. How are you?”
“Fine, thanks.” Feeling herself being studied by two pairs of curious blue eyes, Miranda looked warily at the girls. She should probably say something to them, but she wasn’t sure what. She settled for a smile and a “hi.”
“Miss Martin, these are my daughters, Payton and Madison.”
Miranda smiled at the toddler who gazed so intently back at her, one forefinger stuck in her mouth. “Hello, Madison.”
Madison buried her face in her father’s neck.
Not as shy as her younger sister, Payton piped up, “You were in Daddy’s office.”
“Yes, I was. You came in to tell him about a field trip.”
“I got in trouble for not knocking,” Payton said, not looking particularly perturbed by the memory. Apparently the punishment hadn’t been overly severe. “I like your earrings.”
“Um, thanks.” She was wearing a pair of her favored gold hoops. “I like your shirt,” she said, nodding toward the sparkly butterfly on the girl’s pink T-shirt.
“It’s new. Would you tell my daddy to let me get pierced ears like you and Nicola Cooper?”
Miranda didn’t have a clue who Nicola Cooper was, but she knew better than to interfere in a parental decision. “You’re on your own with that battle, kiddo.”
“Your hair has stripes in it,” Payton announced, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully.
“They’re called highlights, and before you ask, I can’t help you there with your father, either.”
“I don’t think I want stripes. Just earrings.”
Miranda laughed at the kid’s candor. “I really should introduce you to my friend Oliver sometime. I think the two of you would get along very well.”
Mark abruptly cleared his throat. “We’d better be going. It’s Madison’s bedtime.”
“You’ve already seen a movie?”
“Yeah. We do the early showings. The kids brought me to see the new animated film that came out today.”
“It’s his birthday,” Payton confided. “Daddy’s thirty. We had cake.”
So Mark had spent his thirtieth birthday watching a cartoon movie with two kids under five. She wondered wryly how he could stand the excitement. “Happy birthday, Mark.”
“Thanks. But don’t let us keep you any longer. I’m sure your companion is waiting for you.”
“No companion tonight. I came stag.”
He lifted an eyebrow as he glanced at the big tub of popcorn and large diet soda in her arms.
“All mine,” she informed him loftily. “When I splurge, I go all out.”
“So I see. Well…enjoy.”
“Thanks.”
“Bye, Miss Martin,” Payton called over her shoulder as her father led her away.
“Goodbye, Payton. And Madison,” she added, earning a quick, shy smile from the smaller girl before she promptly ducked into her daddy’s shoulder again.
Very strange encounter, Miranda mused as she settled into a theater seat and placed her soda in the cup holder. It was pretty startling to see Mark in his role as doting dad right after he’d played the part of hunky accountant in her erotic daydream.
One would think she would find him less appealing in that light, considering the way she felt about kids. Funny thing was, she had been just as strangely drawn to him as ever.
When it came to Mark Wallace, Miranda couldn’t even predict her own reactions. There was nothing wrong with a little fantasy, she reminded herself. She just had to remember not to get those harmless daydreams mixed up with reality.
Mark had half hoped that Miranda would pick up her tax forms while he was occupied with another client. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the sight of her. Seeing her was always like having a few extra rays of sunshine brighten his day.
Yet it was that very type of imagery that made him increasingly wary of seeing her too often. His life wasn’t what anyone would call exciting, but he had been content with it for the past couple of years. He didn’t need anyone messing with his mind, making him wish for something more than what he had now.
A caregiver. That was what he had always been, and what he would likely always be. From
