he asked, “What do you know about Kate?”
“Didn’t she tell you?”
A knock at the back door caught him off guard. He wasn’t expecting anyone as he never had visitors. And if it was some sort of salesperson, they’d go to the front door.
“I’ve got to go. Someone’s at the door. I’ll call you back later.”
“Lucas, be nice to Kate. She has more than enough on her plate. She can use all of the friends she can get.”
And with that the line went dead. What in the world had that cryptic message meant? He didn’t have time to contemplate it as the knock sounded again.
He let out a frustrated sigh as he set his phone on the center island. So much for getting any answers about Kate. Now all he had were more questions.
The knocking became one long string of beats.
“Okay! I’m coming.”
Lucas strode over and yanked open the door. A cold breeze rushed past him. His mouth moved, but words failed him.
There standing in the rain, completely soaked, was Kate. Her teeth chattered and her eyes were red and puffy. This certainly wasn’t the same determined woman he’d dropped off at the hospital. Where her hair had once been styled, the wet strands clung to her face. What in the world was going on?
Without thinking he reached out, grabbed her arms and pulled her inside. His mind continued to flood with questions, so many that he didn’t know where to start. But finally he drew his thoughts into some semblance of order and decided to start at the beginning.
“Why didn’t you call?” He slipped her purse off her shoulder and set it on a kitchen stool. “I’d have picked you up.”
Were those tears flowing down her cheeks? Or raindrops? He couldn’t be sure. Obviously he’d have to hold off getting to the bottom of this. His first priority was getting Kate warmed up.
“We need to get you in a hot shower.” She started to shake her head when he added, “No arguments. You’ll be lucky if you don’t catch pneumonia. If you hadn’t noticed, it’s awfully cold to be walking around in the rain.”
He helped her out of her jacket, which definitely wasn’t waterproof. Next, he removed her waterlogged red heels. When he reached for her hand to lead her to his bathroom, he noticed how small and delicate she was next to him.
She looked so fragile and his instinct was to protect her—to pull her close and let her absorb his body heat. He resisted the urge. It wasn’t his place to soothe away her worries. When it came to relationships, he should wear a sign that read Toxic. And that was why he intended to grow old alone.
In his bedroom, he had her wait while he grabbed a towel and heated up the shower. When he returned, she was still standing there with her arms hugging herself, staring at the floor. What in the world had happened? Did she have bad news at the hospital? Had someone died?
Not that it was any of his business. He wasn’t a man to lean on. He had no words of wisdom to share to make whatever problem she had go away. If he had, he’d have used it to fix his own messed up life. He’d have gotten his family back. The house would be filled with the sounds of his daughter’s laughter. Instead the silence was deafening. He shoved the troubling thoughts away.
“Let’s get you in a hot shower.” He showed her to his bathroom. “Will you be all right in there alone? Or should I call my aunt?”
In a faint whisper, she said, “I’m fine.”
Sure she was. And he had some oceanfront property in New Mexico to sell.
“Just yell, if you need me. I won’t be far away.”
While she warmed up in the shower, he rushed to the front door and returned with her suitcase. His thumbs hovered over the locks. He stopped. Opening her suitcase would be prying—something he hated when people did it to him, no matter what their intentions. Instead, he retrieved his robe and laid it on the bed, just in case she was still chilled.
Trying not to think of how good she’d looked in his robe, he returned to the kitchen. He grabbed the coffeepot and filled it with water. His idea to step out for a bit was permanently on the back burner. Once he got Kate situated in a hotel, the afternoon would be shot. And so would his patience.
He flung himself down on a kitchen chair, determined to concentrate on something besides his unwanted guest. He opened up his laptop and skimmed over his unfinished email. He had absolutely no desire to work. This realization for a renowned workaholic was unsettling, to say the least. What was wrong with him? Was it the way things had ended in San Francisco with his little girl looking at him with fear in her eyes when he went to pick her up?
He inhaled an unsteady breath. He’d made his choice, not to make his daughter a pawn between him and his ex. It was the right decision...for Carrie. Now he had to get a grip. After all, Carrington Gems was all he had left.
With one ear toward the bathroom and his eyes on the monitor, he started to type. He’d gotten through a handful of emails by the time Kate emerged from the bedroom wearing his robe. Her dark brown hair was wet and brushed back from her face and her cheeks were tinged pink from the shower.
The robe gaped open, revealing a glimpse of her cleavage. His overzealous imagination filled in the obscured details. He should have looked away but he couldn’t. He was drawn to her like a starving bear to a picnic basket.
He shifted uncomfortably, fighting back this wave of desire. Sex was not the answer. It only complicated things, even in the simplest of relationships.
The fact he’d never met anyone who was so fiercely independent but at the same time looked worn to the bone only made him more curious about Kate. What was her story? Where had she come from? And what was she doing at the hospital?
He swallowed hard. “Do you feel better?”
She nodded. “I’m sorry to be such a bother.”
Was this where he was supposed to step up and comfort her? He hesitated. He never was one of those soft, mushy people. He was a Carrington—strong, proud and unfeeling. Or at least those were the words his ex had thrown at him numerous times and he’d never had a reason to disbelieve her assessment. Until now....
There was something about Kate that bore through his defenses and made him want to fix whatever was broken. But he didn’t know anything about comforting people. With each passing moment he grew more uncomfortable, not knowing how he should act around her.
Taking the safe approach, he got up and pulled a chair out for her. “Have a seat while I get you some coffee. Do you take milk or sugar?”
“A little of both, please.”
That he could do. It was this talking stuff that had him knotted up inside. He wasn’t sure what to say or do. Silence was best. Silence was golden.
Once she finished her coffee, he would see about getting her moved to a hotel. His life would then return to normal. Or whatever qualified as normal these days. And he wasn’t going to ask any questions. Her life was none of his affair.
