*
* *
“Do you?” He reached for her hand.
“There’s a second reason for my visit.”
“And that is?”
“A feature of the inn in Good Travelin’. Would be good for business. My
head writer’s suggestion. An Inn For All
Seasons.”
The dangled carrot tempted her. A feature might bring interest from
potential buyers. If the inn sold she and Davy could vanish. Or could they?
Mark knew he had a son. Christa slumped against the counter. What she needed
was a pair of iron rods to act as a spinal brace. She had wanted the strength
to deal with her hang-sisters. Mark Blakefield’s arrival had added to the
problems she faces. She wanted to collapse or hide until all the irritants
vanished. That wasn’t going to happen.
Her decision to tell Peggy and Stella their free-loading days were over
had promised a storm. Mark’s presence meant a hurricane. She willed her knees
to lock. Fainting was not the answer. Mark had arrived and he knew about Davy.
Thank heavens her son was in school. She had to find a way to send Mark away
before the school bus arrived at three- thirty.
She gulped a deep breath. She should have found a way to tell Mark about
the pregnancy. Ten years ago her life had been chaotic and loaded with guilty
feelings. The death of her father and step-mother had catapulted her into a
life she hadn’t wanted. The inn was hers. There were tons of debts. Her
half-sisters were spoiled, frightened and angry. Three months had passed before
she’d had time to think of her own needs.
The day she’d realized she was pregnant she had tried to let Mark know.
He had graduated and gone to work for one of the magazines his family owned. A
secretary reported he was in Europe and she
wasn’t sure when he would return. She hadn’t left a message. Several more times
she’d called only to learn he wasn’t available.
There had been nothing for her to do but make order out of her hectic
life. Keeping her half-sisters out of trouble had been a fulltime job. So had
running the inn and caring for Davy. Telling Mark had been pushed aside and
while not forgotten, hadn’t been a priority. Now he was here and he was angry.
“Interesting situation,” Peggy drawled. “The man seems determined. You
need to think about what he can do for you and Davy. The car he drives screams
money. Not to mention he’s hot.”
Stella laughed. “He’s beyond hot.
Incandescent, Shoulders like a football hero. Dynamite smile. Killer green
eyes. If you don’t want him I’ll have a taste.”
“Stand in line.” Peggy grinned. “How about a double or a triple?” She
winked. If I were you I’d hit him for child support. With a wad of cash you can
give Stel and me the money for a cruise.” She sighed. “We’re ready for balmy
nights and single men.”
Christa pressed her hands against the counter. The desire to slap them
grew stronger. “Listen to me. I am selling the inn. You need to find jobs. I’ll
give you enough money to rent an apartment and for basic living expenses for
three months. You can put your college educations to work.”
Stella shook her head. “No deal. You have to buy us out. If you sell each
of us gets a third. Dad had three kids.”
“You’re entitled to nothing.” Christa stared at the door. Though he
presented a different problem what was taking Mark so long?
“We’ll take you to court,” Peggy said.
“You don’t get the picture. The inn was left to me by my mother. Until I
turned twenty-one Dad was my guardian. I was twenty-one when he died. The inn
is mine.”
“I don’t believe you,” Stella said. “I know what Mom told us.”
Christa drew a deep breath. No matter what their mother had said Stella
and Peggy had no share in the inn. Christa had paid for their college
educations, fed and clothed them. Over the years she had given into their
demands to avoid tantrums and her guilt over the days following the accident
when no one had known where she could be found.
She wanted to scream. She had avoided this confrontation for too long.
The pair had pushed her far beyond her tolerance level.
The door opened. Mark wheeled stacked suitcases to the desk. Christa
groaned. He had come to stay. He placed a laptop on the counter. Her heart
raced. Anticipation pulsed through her body. Why did he bother her this way?
Her thoughts flooded with memories of his kisses and caresses.
“Room key,” he said.
She smiled. “I’m afraid the inn is booked solid through next week. I can
give you a list of other places that might have vacancies.” She had to explain
the past but not yet. “You could leave and return when there’s room in the
inn.”
“Not a chance. We need to talk. I’m not leaving until we do.”
Christa stared at the floor. Why had he come? Was he here to take Davy
away?
“He could use one of the cottages,” Stella said.
Christa glared at her half-sister. “They’re closed until ski season.”
“Do they have water, electricity and heat?” Mark rested his elbows on the
counter.
The look of determination in his eyes reminded her of their first
encounter and the way he’d pursued until she’d agreed to a date. Three weeks
later she’d been in love and had agreed to spend a long weekend with him. Those
four days had been a whirlwind fantasy of love and laughter. When the web of
tragedy had created a shroud of responsibility those days had ended. She stared
at her hands. To meet his gaze meant realizing how little her feelings had
changed.
“Christa, the cottage,” he said.
“They’re meant for groups.”
“I’ll take one.” He slid his credit card toward her.
He would persist until she agreed. “Do you want to pay for a place
accommodating eight to ten just for yourself?” His shrug told her he hadn’t
changed. He would pursue relentlessly what he wanted.
“Why not? I can afford to pay. There’s never been anyone to help spend my
money.” He brushed a finger over the back of her hand.
Christa felt tendrils of heat spiral along her arms and take root low in
her belly. She held her breath but the scent of him seeped to take room through
her pores. Would he change his mind when he saw the weekly rate? She ran the
card and filled in the amount. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Can’t think of anything I’d rather do.” His feral grin sent shivers
along her spine. “Haven’t heard those words before. Didn’t you say that to me
the day I asked you to spend the weekend with me?” He signed the slip.
She felt like a mouse being toyed with by a cat. Or a woman used by a man
whose desire for conquest rode his scent and colored his voice.
He put the pen down. “Send the audience away. Time for us to have a
chat.”
Every word jabbed like a needle. How could she fight a man who signed for
a thousand dollars a night without checking the amount? “I can tear this slip
up and you can go home. There’s nothing to discuss. I chose my life.”
“But you also chose mine. Just because you didn’t intend to marry me
didn’t mean I would cede all my rights to my son.”
She looked away. What did he mean? Years ago she would gladly have
married him. “I see.” She spoke with more calmness than she felt.
Would he fight for custody?
Christa drew a deep breath and donned her innkeeper persona. “Welcome to
Green Mountain Inn. The restaurant is open at six for breakfast. Dinner service
begins at five. The dining room closes at ten but the bar remains open and has
a limited menu. There is a gift shop carrying the usual plus some local items.”
She handed him a key. “Stella and Peggy will show you the cottage.”
“Why don’t you do the honors, Christa?” His deep voice caressed her name.
“I have work to do.” She waved the pair over. “Show Mr. Blakefield to
cottage five.” His accommodation was as far from the house she shared with her
family as possible.
He pocketed the key, lifted his laptop and grasped the handle of his
luggage carrier. “Lead on, ladies. Christa, I’m looking forward to our talk.”
As the door closed Christa sagged like her lungs had lost their air in a
rush. What was she going to do? He had a right to be angry but the cold fury in
his eyes frightened her more than if he had exploded. Why hadn’t she found time
during the past ten years to tell Mark about Davy? She’d never been able to
answer the question. How could she resist the temptation to fall in love again?
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