“My name’s Lucas.”
“Well, Lucas, I assume you must know Connie, too.”
His gaze sought out hers and held it. “Connie? Is that who let you in here?”
Kate nodded as hope sparked in her eyes. “Connie Carrington.”
He had liked it better when he thought Kate was a squatter looking for a warm place to sleep. “To be sure, describe Connie.”
“Short. Brunette. Sixtyish. Very sweet and generous. She has a friendly smile and volunteers at East Riverview Hospital.”
“That’s her.” It still didn’t prove Kate was telling the whole truth, but it was sure looking that way.
“Here’s the thing, Connie obviously offered me this place first. And I don’t think us sharing the house is going to work.”
How dare this woman—this stranger—kick him out of his own house? He opened his mouth to give her a piece of his mind but then closed it. Obviously she didn’t recognize him, a small wonder after that ridiculous magazine article earlier in the month had named him Bachelor of the Year. His quiet life hadn’t been the same since then.
Kate was a refreshing change from the headline seekers and the husband hunters. Maybe if this were a different time under different circumstances, he’d welcome this beautiful intrusion. But right now all he wanted was to be left alone.
A clap of thunder rattled the windows. Kate jumped. She obviously wasn’t as calm as she’d like him to believe. Perhaps they both needed a moment to gather their thoughts. He certainly could use a minute or two to tamp down his unwanted attraction.
“This conversation would be a little less awkward with some more clothes on. I’ll be right back.” He started out of the room, then as an afterthought he called over his shoulder, “Don’t go anywhere.”
Lucas strode from the room. His teeth ground together. He didn’t want this woman here. He never had company and he preferred it that way. In fact, the less time he spent here, the better he liked it. When he’d asked his aunt to look after the place, he’d never expected her to turn it into a B and B. What in the world had she been thinking?
Maybe his aunt had planned for him to never find out about Kate. After all, he wasn’t even supposed to be home for another week. But one untimely setback after another at the future site of Carrington Gems’ expansion in San Francisco had ground construction to a halt.
Still, it was more than losing money hand over fist due to bureaucratic red tape that had him cutting his trip short. He put a stop to his thoughts. He wasn’t ready to contemplate the devastating situation he’d faced before catching his cross-country flight home.
And the last thing he needed was to return home to find a half-dressed woman making herself comfortable in his house. The image of her bare legs teased his mind, clouding his thoughts.
He cursed under his breath and pulled on the first pair of jeans he laid his hands on. But if he was going to stay focused, his beautiful interloper needed to cover up. He grabbed a heavy robe that should modestly cover her and give him some peace of mind. With a T-shirt in hand for himself, he rushed back to the kitchen clutching both articles of clothing.
“Here.” He held out the robe to her. “Put this on.”
Her wary gaze moved to his outstretched hand and back. It was then that he got a close-up view of her heart-shaped face and button nose. His thoughts screeched to a halt when he spied the dark shadows beneath her eyes. Sympathy welled up inside his chest. Not so long ago, he’d worn a similar look. It hadn’t happened by missing a night or two of sleep. In fact, it’d been the worst time of his life. His gut told him that Kate had a devastating story of her own.
He’d always been good at reading people. It was what helped him run Carrington Gems and hire a reliable staff. So why had he immediately jumped to the wrong conclusion about Kate?
Had his experience with his ex-wife jaded him so badly that he wasn’t even willing to give this woman the benefit of the doubt? Or was it the fact she was standing in this house—a place so filled with pain and loss?
Kate’s cold fingertips brushed over the back of his hand as she accepted the robe. His instinct was to take her hands in his and rub them until they were warm. But he resisted the temptation. She wasn’t his guest...his responsibility.
While she slipped on the robe, he stepped back, giving her some space. He pulled the shirt over his head. Now they could have a reasonable conversation.
Fully clothed, he glanced up, finding Kate’s brows furrowed as she stared at him. He followed her line of vision to a large hole in his jeans above his knee as well as the army of white smudges marking up both legs. He really should consider tossing them, but they were just so comfortable. Wait. Why should he care what this woman thought of him or his clothes? After tonight he’d never see her again.
Kate shoved up the sleeves on the robe and crossed her arms. “What do you propose we do?”
In any other situation, he’d show her to the door and wish her well. After all, she wasn’t his problem. And being drawn in by her very kissable lips and the memory of how that threadbare shirt hugged her curves was a complication in his life that he just didn’t need.
But her pale face with those dark smudges beneath her eyes dug at his resolve.
And he couldn’t dismiss the fact his aunt had sent Kate to stay here. Not that his aunt didn’t help people on a daily basis, but she knew this house was off-limits to everyone. That meant Kate was someone special. Now he really needed to speak to his aunt, but first he had to make things clear to Kate.
“There’s something you should know. This is my house.”
KATE EYED UP Mr. Oh-So-Sexy’s faded T-shirt and threadbare denim. Even her ratty old jeans were in better condition. Did she look gullible enough to swallow his story that he was the owner of this mansion? That would make him wealthy. Very wealthy. And he sure didn’t look the part.
“Why should I believe you own this house?”
He frowned. “Because I’m Lucas Carrington. Connie’s nephew.”
His unwavering tone gave her pause. She studied his aristocratic nose, piercing blue eyes and sensual lips. The wheels in her mind began to spin. No wonder he seemed so familiar. During her many hours at the hospital, she’d ended up thumbing through one magazine after the other. It was within one of those stylish periodicals that she’d skimmed over an article listing this year’s most eligible bachelors.
Lucas Carrington had been named Bachelor of the Year. And he had been by far the steamiest candidate on the list. And that had been before she’d garnered a glimpse of his ripped abs. Her mouth grew dry at the memory. She instantly squashed the thought.
The reality of the situation at last sunk in. That man—the hunk from the popular magazine—was standing in front of her in his bare feet. And she was accusing him of being an intruder. This had to be some sort of crazy, mixed-up dream.
“I
