The Inherited Twins. Cathy Thacker Gillen

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      She shook her head, looking aggrieved. “I shouldn’t be behaving this way. Especially not with you…”

      Heath stroked a hand through her hair. “You’ve got every right to be sad,” he soothed. But even as he spoke, he could see she didn’t want to feel that way. She wanted the mourning to be over. She wanted to be able to move on.

      And he wanted to help her do that.

      CLAIRE SAW THE KISS coming. Realized she could stop it. All it would take was a look, a sigh, a shake of her head. Instead, she lifted her face to his and stepped back into his embrace. Her lips parted as his touched hers, and then everything in her life that was painful and wrong, everything that should never have happened, faded away.

      She reveled in the taste and smell of him, in the tenderness of his touch and the reckless abandon of his kiss. He held her as if she were the most fragile possession on earth. He kissed her as if she were the strongest. And in truth she felt both.

      Like she could handle anything.

      She just didn’t want to handle it alone.

      Not anymore.

      And that, more than anything, was why she broke off the kiss and stepped back.

      They faced each other, their breathing erratic.

      But the apology she half expected from Heath never came.

      And it was easy to see why.

      Judging from his expression, he wasn’t sorry he kissed her. Any more than she was that he had. And what was up with that? She knew better than to mix business with pleasure, to get involved with a paying guest. And she especially shouldn’t be kissing the man in charge of the twins’ trust fund. Which was why she had to get him out of here before they got any closer.

      She flashed an officious smile and glided away from him. “Let me get you a cup of coffee for the walk back to your cottage.”

      “Thanks.”

      She filled a mug, turned and handed it to him. Their hands brushed once again as the transfer was made, and Claire felt another whisper of desire float through her, stronger than before.

      Until now, she hadn’t realized how lonely she was.

      Now, she knew.

      And so did he.

      “See you in the morning,” he said.

      “Eight-thirty,” she confirmed, her heart still pounding, all her senses in overdrive.

      But, as it happened, she saw him sooner than that. Heath was in the front parlor, helping himself at the breakfast buffet, when she shepherded the kids toward the front door, to wait for their preschool car pool. He was clad in a navy and—white pin-striped shirt and navy suit that made the most of his tall, muscled frame and brought out the blue of his eyes. One look at his ruggedly handsome face and enticing smile and she knew he was thinking about the kiss they’d shared, as much as she was.

      Deliberately, Claire turned away. “Now, remember,” she told the twins, as she stopped at the front hall closet and took a gift-wrapped package off the shelf. “You’re going to a birthday party this afternoon. Buddy Nesbitt’s mommy and daddy are going to drive everybody to Buddy’s house, and you’re going to have pizza and birthday cake, and play games. And then when the party is over, I’m going to come and get you and drive you home.”

      “Are they going to have candles?” Henry asked, standing patiently as Claire helped him into his light jacket.

      “Yes. I’m sure they’ll have candles on Buddy’s cake.”

      “Is he going to do that wish thing and blow them out?” Heidi asked.

      “Yes, he gets to make a wish, and then he blows the candles out.”

      “But he can’t tell anybody or it won’t come true,” Heidi recollected solemnly.

      “Right. Birthday wishes are secret,” Claire said.

      “I want a birthday,” Henry declared.

      “Your birthdays are coming up next week.”

      Heidi perked up. “Do we get a party?”

      “You do,” Claire said. “It’s going to be at the park and you can invite all your friends. It should be a lot of fun.”

      “Yes!” Henry clapped his hands together.

      Hearing a car rumbling up the drive, Claire opened the door and herded the kids out to the nine-passenger vehicle. She handed the present to the mom driving the car, for safekeeping, made sure the twins were both buckled in, then stood waving as the van disappeared again.

      Heath came out to stand beside her. “The twins seem okay this morning,” he noted.

      Remembering how much help he had been to her the night before, she turned to him with a wry smile. “That’s the way it is. One minute they’re confused and grieving, the next it’s like nothing ever happened.”

      Heath searched her eyes. “I gather you have a harder time bouncing back?”

      “Unfortunately, I understand the finality of our loss.” As an image of her late sister came to mind, Claire swallowed. She focused her attention on the horizon as she confessed, “I think the holidays are going to be tough.”

      Sympathy radiated in his low voice. “Your first…”

      She nodded. “Without Liz-Beth and Sven, yes.” She swallowed again, then knotted her hands into determined fists at her sides. “But we’ll get through it, because we still have a lot to be thankful for.” She paused, drew a bolstering breath. “Speaking of which, you ready to go over to the ranch office and talk about how we can make the numbers work?”

      He nodded, all business once again. “Lead the way.”

      HEATH SETTLED IN A CHAIR on the other side of Claire’s desk, aware this wasn’t an ordinary business meeting, any more than the kiss they’d shared the night before had been ordinary. What happened in the next few weeks would either make or break Claire’s dreams for the Red Sage, while simultaneously securing the twins’ inheritance.

      Heath did not want to be in the position to make that kind of impact on her hopes for the future. But it was his job. And he always did his job.

      Claire folded her hands together and consulted the handwritten notes in front of her. “You said the other day that as long as the business demonstrated the potential for growth, as long as the guest ranch could turn a small profit, you wouldn’t have to sell anything.”

      Trying not to notice how pretty she looked in a dark-gold sweater and brown-and-gold paisley skirt, Heath nodded. “The problem is, according to the rates you’ve set for the rooms, that’s not going to happen, with the kind of occupancy you’ve got right now.”

      She leaned back in her swivel chair. “We were at capacity for seven weeks this summer.”

      Heath

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