A Bride For Jackson Powers. Dixie Browning

Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу A Bride For Jackson Powers - Dixie Browning страница 6

A Bride For Jackson Powers - Dixie Browning Mills & Boon Desire

Скачать книгу

by the subtle sway of her hips.

      Probably something to do with bone structure. He was no expert, but even under those limp, floppy layers, hers looked pretty damned fine, from the high forehead, to the delicate cheekbones and elegant neck, right down to those world-class ankles. Not even the clunky sandals could detract from her classy lines.

      Beside him, Sunny experimented with a new sound that involved humming and gum smacking. Jax laid a hand on her warm little belly. “Nice friend you’ve got there, kid. Let’s hope we can find you someone just as nice once we get home.”

      Home. That was another problem to be dealt with. His Norfolk apartment was strictly adults only. Maybe he’d better call his secretary and get her started on lining up a few prospects. A nice house in a quiet neighborhood, with a big yard and a nearby school. While she was at it, she might arrange for him to interview prospective nannies and housekeepers. He’d need one of each.

      Still no sign of Hetty. He could go after her, but he didn’t particularly want to risk losing their space. Besides, he could easily miss her in this throng. She might even have found somebody else. Teamed up with someone who didn’t have a kid needing attention every few minutes.

      The idea was surprisingly unwelcome.

      Having learned a long time ago not to expect anything from a woman, Jax had seldom been disappointed. He couldn’t quite figure this one, though. Something about her didn’t add up.

      Or was it that the sum total wasn’t what he expected of a woman who looked like a model, walked like a model and talked like a small-town housewife from flyover country?

      Actually, she didn’t talk all that much, which in itself was unusual. Most of the women he knew, especially the beautiful ones, were inclined to chatter.

      Dismissing the woman from his mind, he turned his thoughts to the domino effect the addition of one small daughter was going to have on his once-orderly life. Oddly enough, the idea wasn’t quite as disturbing as it might have been mere hours ago.

      He glanced at his watch again, then scanned the crowd for a familiar head of short, reddish-brown hair. Sunny began to whimper, and he dug out the rubber teething ring Hetty had discovered under the cushion of the carrier. “Don’t sweat it, sugar, we’ll be home before you know it.”

      “Mercy, do you know what time it is?”

      His head came up, and he frowned to cover his relief. She was back again, slipping through the fragile barricade with an air of having made it home safely.

      “Time?”

      “It’s the middle of the night.” She planted her back against the wall and lowered herself gracefully to the floor beside him. Her first act was to check on Sunny, which gave him a funny tight feeling in his throat. “It’s crazy, isn’t it? The way time loses all meaning? I can’t even remember how long we’ve been here, much less—”

      “How long until we get out,” he finished for her.

      She smiled, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. He wondered if she was finally going to lose her grip. He’d been waiting, expecting tears, complaints and the rest of the package to come pouring out. It had been his experience that women were quick to let the world know when things didn’t go to suit them.

      “I never saw so many fancy phones. When I finally got to one I knew how to use, the office was closed. They have a twenty-four-hour, 800 line, but it stayed busy for so long I gave up.”

      “Hardly surprising, under the circumstances. I figured you were having trouble getting through, you were away so long.”

      He’d figured no such thing, but he wasn’t going to admit it.

      “Yes, well, like I said, there are so many kinds of phones now that I’ve never learned how to use, and then I got to talking to this nice woman who was traveling with her three teenage sons. They’re from Omaha. Her husband’s a cement contractor, and the boys are all planning to go into the family business as soon as they graduate from high school. I think that’s real nice, don’t you?”

      What he thought was that it was highly irrelevant, and wondered where she’d been all her life that a simple pay phone was beyond her experience, but he refrained from saying so.

      “I guess you think I’m ignorant—about the phones and all, but I told you I haven’t traveled much.”

      Sunny started to fuss. Hetty reached over and captured one of her tiny feet, cupping it in her hand. “Did you wash the bottle after last time?”

      “I did the best I could without soap. Damn, I hate this! What if she gets sick? What if her rash gets worse?”

      “You simply climb on a chair and ask if there’s a doctor in the house. At least that’s the way it’s done in the movies.”

      “Yeah, right.”

      “Jax, don’t worry so much. Most babies have a diaper rash at one time or another. We’ll just have to keep her dry, that’s all.”

      “What if she catches something? There are people from all over the world here—one of them might be carrying a germ or a virus.”

      Hetty couldn’t help but be amused, even though she knew better than most how scary caring for a baby could be for an inexperienced parent. “She’ll let you know if she’s not feeling well.”

      “By crying. Right. Only, how’m I supposed to know if she’s sick or just wet again? Or worse?”

      “Worse, you’ll know. Wet’s pretty much a given. A lot of her fussiness is teething, though. She’s got two tiny nubbins almost through, didn’t her mama tell you?”

      It wasn’t the first time she’d referred obliquely to Carolyn. Jax had a feeling she was curious about why he was traveling alone with a baby he obviously didn’t know a damned thing about. Luckily she seemed as disinclined as he was to discuss personal matters.

      Which was just one more way in which she differed from the women he knew.

      One bottle and two stale pimento sandwiches later, the weather picture hadn’t improved. At last report, nothing was moving on land or in the air. Every airport east of the Mississippi between Nashville and New England was either iced in or fogged in. On one of the runways, a scraper had run into the wing of a 747, damaging both. Even after the weather cleared up, things were going to be in a hell of a mess until they sorted out the logistic tangles.

      Hetty’s head had once more settled on his shoulder, her soft breath purring warmly against his throat. Sunny was draped across her lap sleeping, fed, dried and burped. The burping was news to him. Carolyn had forgotten to mention it, but it seemed to make a difference. Whoever and whatever else Hetty Reynolds was, she was a godsend, given the circumstances.

      He wondered if she had kids of her own. Where were they? Had she given them away? Dropped them off in a diner the way his mother had done him when he was six years old and then forgotten to come back for him for the next thirty-three years?

      Jax blinked sleepily and considered easing them into a more comfortable position. Maybe later, he thought, his gaze on the hand that was resting protectively on Sunny’s back.

      No rings. Funny things, hands.

Скачать книгу