“Thank you,” she said finally, as if the words came with great difficulty. “I hope I didn’t sound rude. I didn’t mean to.”
She sounded so sincere. Her hand moved over her stomach again. The light from the window settled around her like a halo.
Garrett swallowed tightly. “No problem,” he answered, and made good his escape.
Lanie watched Garrett through her open window as he crossed the backyard, heading for the clothesline. The curtains fluttered about as the light breeze infused a warm, comfortable breath of fresh air into the room. She took a big gulp of it. She needed it. She needed something, anyway—something to stop her from making a complete and total fool of herself.
She felt touched by Garrett’s thoughtfulness in bringing her supper. He’d even brought her cookies. It was such a simple yet considerate gesture. The sort of gesture she wouldn’t have expected from the hard, cold businessman who’d all but accused her of trying to defraud his uncle.
Lanie tensed at the thought. The whole thing was so insulting. Why was Garrett really so intent on helping her this evening? Out of the goodness of his heart?
Fat chance of that! She blew out a frustrated breath. His help—and his suppers—were part of his plan to manipulate her into going back to Austin with him.
She should have thrown the supper tray right back in his face.
She eyed the meal in front of her. She was hungry, and she didn’t see anything to be gained by not eating. After all, she’d need her strength if she was going to resist his power plays.
And there was no point wasting perfectly good cookies, was there?
Picking up the sandwich first, she took a bite and narrowed her gaze on her adversary. He’d rolled his sleeves up and begun tearing sheets down.
The muscles of his arms flexed in the sun as he reached upward. Lanie stared for long seconds before swallowing the bite of sandwich, then forcibly ripped her gaze from the sight in her yard. She took a swig of cold milk. Really, what was wrong with her? She was practically ogling the man.
She couldn’t believe now she’d ever mistaken him for Ben. He was nothing like Ben. It was more than the subtle physical differences. There was something so serious, so earnest about Garrett.
Ben had been funny and exciting—in the beginning. They’d had a whirlwind courtship. He’d dared her out of her quiet life. Her quiet rut, as her grandmother who’d raised her used to say. She’d known Ben was marrying her over his wealthy father’s objections, but he was determined and had insisted his father would come around. He said he wanted to get married and help her rebuild the bed-and-breakfast business she’d recently inherited after her grandmother’s death.
Even though her grandmother was gone, Lanie could still hear her nagging. Life is short, live while you’re young, let your heart lead you.
And in a moment of uncharacteristic spontaneity, Lanie had let her heart lead her. She’d married Ben.
The disillusionment had come quickly. Walter Blakemore couldn’t accept his son’s abrupt marriage, or his decision to leave the family business. He’d underscored his unbending resolve by cutting Ben off financially. But that hadn’t been the worst of it. It was only after they’d married that Lanie finally understood what Ben’s power struggle with his father was all about. He wanted his father’s love—and no matter how much love she gave him, it could never be enough, never make up for what his father had withheld from him his entire life.
Ben had grown distant and morose, alternating between long silences and angry outbursts. And Lanie knew she’d made a mistake—that they had both made a mistake. But she wasn’t a quitter and she’d tried to make their marriage work despite the coldness with which he’d pushed her away.
By the time he died, she wasn’t sure if Ben had ever loved her or if she had merely been a means to break away from his father. But whatever the fate of their marriage might have been if he’d lived, she still mourned him—that his life had been cut too short, that her baby would never know its father.
She had little family of her own left—only a brother on military duty overseas. But Ben had family, and so did her baby.
Her gaze moved out the window again. The yard was empty now, the clothesline bare. Garrett was gone, which was just as well. She didn’t need to be tempted by his strong arms, to fantasize what it would feel like to have those arms around her, to feel that exciting ripple of warmth inside her when he looked at her. Not when she felt so very lonely.
Thoughts of Garrett were dangerous. Garrett was dangerous. He was the sort of man who would have everything he wanted, wouldn’t settle for less.
And he wanted something from her.
This time, Lanie couldn’t hide from the little ripple that shuddered inside her. This time it was fear.
“Your home is lovely.”
Garrett opened his mouth to explain to the Berringers, Lanie’s guests for the night, that the Sweet Dreams Bed and Breakfast wasn’t his home, but a soft voice from behind stopped him.
“Thank you.”
He turned. Lanie, dressed now in a flowing yellow undress that lit up her eyes and hair, seemed to float into the parlor. She smiled at the Berringers, looking rested and relaxed.
Weren’t pregnant women supposed to be awkward? Garret thought. There was nothing ungainly about Lanie.
She moved like a feather. A delicate, beautiful feather. Garrett found her gracefulness annoying.
But then, he found her mere presence annoying, he decided. He hadn’t meant to call her down when her guests arrived—despite her instructions. He’d intended to avoid her entirely for the rest of the evening. But here she was, anyway.
“I hope you had a nice trip,” Lanie was saying. She still hadn’t looked at him.
He, on the other hand, was having a hard time taking his eyes off her.
“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Berringer replied. She was a heavyset woman and the sofa made a groaning noise when she sat down on it. “But I’m so glad to be here.”
She reached for one of the canapés artfully arranged on a tray on the coffee table. Garrett had placed the tray of appetizers out, just as Lanie had instructed.
Mr. Berringer settled into an armchair.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Lanie indicated a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket near the canapés. Another tray held several glasses.
The Berringers accepted, and Lanie sat down, leaning forward to pour the wine into the glasses. Garrett watched her long hair fall over her bare shoulders in shimmery, touchable waves. Unbidden came the urge to reach out, to wrap a finger around one of those locks, to discover just how soft and touchable they really were....
Garrett’s chest tightened, and he realized he’d almost forgotten to breathe. This whole domestic setup was doing a number on his brain, he told himself. Either that, or she was, indeed, a sorceress.
“I’ll
