The Tycoon And I: Safe in the Tycoon's Arms / The Tycoon and the Wedding Planner / Swept Away by the Tycoon. Barbara Wallace

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The Tycoon And I: Safe in the Tycoon's Arms / The Tycoon and the Wedding Planner / Swept Away by the Tycoon - Barbara  Wallace

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      Kate turned and started down the hall.

      “Wait.” Unease mounted within him as he realized what he was about to do.

      “For what?” Kate asked, stepping back into the kitchen.

      He noticed how the rest of her short dark brown hair was tucked behind each ear as though she’d been too busy to worry about what she looked like. The concept of a woman going out in public without taking great pains with her appearance was new to him. This mystery woman intrigued him and that was not good—not good at all.

      But more than that, he’d witnessed how every time it thundered, she jumped and the fear reflected in her eyes. He couldn’t turn her out into the stormy night—especially when he suspected she had nowhere else to go.

      Going against his better judgment, he said, “You don’t have to leave tonight.”

      “Yes, I do.”

      “Would you quit being so difficult?”

      She glowered at him. “But you just got done telling me that you wanted me out of here right away. You’re the one being difficult.”

      He inwardly groaned with frustration. “That was before. Give me a moment to speak with my aunt.”

      “I don’t see how that will change anything. Unless you’re still worried that I’m a liar and a thief.”

      “That isn’t what I meant.” He jerked his fingers through his hair. “Just wait here for a minute, okay? In fact, sit down. You look dead on your feet.”

      Her eyes narrowed. Her pale lips drooped into a frown. He’d obviously said the wrong thing...again, but darned if he knew what had upset her. Maybe it was mentioning how tired she looked. In his limited experience with women, they never wanted to look anything less than amazing, no matter the circumstances.

      When Kate didn’t move, he walked over and pulled out a chair at the table. “Please sit down. I won’t be long.”

      He stepped inside the small bedroom just off the kitchen, which at one point in the house’s history had been the domestic help’s quarters. Lucas now claimed it as his bedroom—not that he spent much time there. His cell phone was sitting on the nightstand next to the twin bed.

      He selected his aunt’s name from his frequently called list. His fingers tightened around the phone as he held it to his ear. After only one ring, it switched to voice mail.

      “Call me as soon as you get this.” His voice was short and clipped.

      He couldn’t help but wonder where she might be and why she wasn’t taking his call. Would she still be at the hospital doing her volunteer work? He glanced at the alarm clock. At this late hour, he highly doubted it.

      With his aunt unaccounted for, he’d have to follow his gut. He’d already determined Kate wasn’t a criminal. But what would he do with her? Sit and hash out what was bothering her to see if he could help? Certainly not.

      He rubbed his hand over his stubbled jaw. He didn’t want to get pulled any further into her problems. No matter what her circumstances were, it had nothing to do with him. Come tomorrow, she’d have to find other accommodations.

      Still uncomfortable with his decision, he stepped back into the kitchen. Kate was seated at the table. Her arms were crossed on the glass tabletop, cradling her head. He must have made a sound, because she jerked upright in her seat.

      Kate blinked before stretching. “Did Connie confirm what I told you?”

      “Actually she didn’t—”

      “What? But I’m not lying.”

      “No one said you were. But my aunt isn’t available. So how about we make a deal?”

      A yawn escaped her lips. “What do you have in mind?”

      “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, if you’ll do the same for me.”

      Kate was quiet for a moment as though weighing his words. “I suppose. But what does it matter now?”

      “Because you and I are going to be housemates for the night.”

      “What? But I couldn’t—”

      “Yes, you can. Have you looked outside lately? It’s pouring. And it’s late at night.”

      Her lips pressed into a firm line as she got to her feet and pushed in the chair. “I don’t need your charity.”

      “Who says it’s charity? You’d be saving me from a load of trouble with my aunt if she found out I kicked you to the curb on a night like this.”

      Kate’s hand pressed to her hip, which was hidden beneath the folds of the oversize robe. “Are you being on the level?”

      She didn’t have any idea what it was costing him to ask her to stay, even for one night. This place was a tomb of memories. He didn’t want anyone inside here, witnessing his utter failure to keep his family together.

      But there was something special about her—more than the way that he was thoroughly drawn to her. There was a vulnerability in her gaze. Something he’d guess she’d gone to great pains to hide from everyone, but he’d noticed. Maybe because he’d been vulnerable before, too.

      “You don’t look too sure about this.”

      He was usually much better at hiding his thoughts, but the dismal events of the day combined with the lateness of the hour were his undoing.

      “I’m not. Let’s just go to bed.” Her drooping eyelids lifted and he immediately realized how his words could be misconstrued. “Alone.”

       CHAPTER THREE

      THE SUN HAD yet to flirt with the horizon when Kate awoke to the alarm on her cell phone. Though she’d only snuck in a few hours of sleep, she felt refreshed. Her heart was full of hope that today her most fervent prayer would be answered.

      It will all work out. It has to.

      As she rushed through the shower, the what-ifs and maybes started to crowd into her mind. Finding a cure to her daughter’s brain tumor had been rife with negative diagnoses. That was why they were here in New York City—to see a surgeon who was willing to do the seemingly impossible. But what if—

      Don’t go there. Not today.

      With her resolve to think only positive thoughts, she pulled on a red skirt and a white top from her suitcase. The light tap of the continued rain on the window reminded her of the night before and meeting Lucas Carrington. He definitely presented a distraction from her attack of nerves. She wondered if he’d be just as devastatingly handsome in the daylight. She tried to convince herself that it’d been the exhaustion talking, that no man could look that good. But she’d seen the magazine spread with him shaved and spruced up in a tux. He really was that good-looking. Which raised the question: What was he doing living here in this unkempt, mausoleumlike

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