Tempting A Texan. Carolyn Davidson
force behind his statement. “There isn’t room to argue the point,” he told her flatly. “The child must be weary, and I think you’re ready for a chance to sit and relax, yourself.” He reached toward the rack by the door, snatching his wide-brimmed hat from a hook, then ushered her from his office.
“I’m going home for a while, Thomas,” he said to his clerk. “I’ll return soon. In the meantime, send someone to the train station to collect Miss Donnelly’s things. And those of the child. Have them delivered to my house.”
The wide-eyed young man nodded, his gaze enquiring as he shot a sidelong glance at Nicholas’s visitors. “Yes, sir, Mr. Garvey. I’ll handle things.”
The door opened onto a wide, wooden sidewalk, and Nicholas offered his arm, turning to the right. To her credit, Miss Donnelly accepted his gesture, and he looked down to see her narrow fingers ease past the crook of his elbow to rest on his forearm. A warmth settled into his flesh where that elegant hand rested, and his eyes sought her face, intrigued by the rush of heat that coursed throughout his body.
Her face averted, she seemed to be concentrating on the child who walked nicely on her other side, who, even as he watched, lifted a tiny hand to cover a yawn. He was right, he decided. These two females needed a place to rest, a cool, clean refuge in which to recuperate from their travels. He could think of no other place more fitting than his own home. He’d spend the rest of the day deciding his next move.
Thus far she’d accomplished her purpose, although living in Nicholas Garvey’s home had been more her goal for Amanda than for herself. Irene had wanted her brother to have his niece, and if being under his roof would accomplish that purpose, Carlinda would stay as long as necessary. She recalled her threat to leave and shook her head. He’d upset her and she’d responded with haste, and now she’d be the one to backtrack.
Her only hindrance in staying here until Amanda was well settled was the appeal of the man himself to her female person. Handsome didn’t begin to describe him, and autocratic didn’t start to pay just due to his confident aura.
She looked around the comfortable room she’d been assigned and released a deep breath. The house was large, two-storied and surrounded on the front and two sides by a wide veranda. Sitting over a hundred feet from the sidewalk, it was situated behind a tall fence built of wood, painted white and woven in an intricate pattern, with a wide gate and arbor at its center.
Her surroundings were cool and comfortable, with fine carpets and gracefully hung draperies at the windows. She’d noted comfortable couches and gleaming wooden tables filling the parlor, visible from the central foyer, where a dining room flanked it on the opposite side of the wide hallway.
As she’d climbed one side of the two-pronged staircase to the second floor, she’d looked back to see her elegantly clad host watching her progress from below. His lifted hand offered a salute, and then he’d turned to depart through the front door.
Katie, the woman who kept this place immaculate, had given Carlinda a searching glance as she opened the bedroom door and ushered her inside. “I’ve already put the wee one in the room next door,” she said. “Tucked her in nicely, and barely had her shoes and dress off before she curled up and closed her eyes.”
That was one mark in the woman’s favor, Carlinda decided. Treating Amanda kindly gave the housekeeper points. It bode well for the child’s future.
Now, Carlinda walked to the double windows overlooking the front yard and the street, easing aside the white curtain, the better to search the sidewalk below. He was there, walking briskly, crossing the street almost a hundred yards away. His stride was long, his back straight, his hat at a jaunty angle atop dark hair.
She’d noticed his eyes first, that brilliant blue that proclaimed him as Black Irish. The same blue that had been replicated in the small face of the child she’d brought to him. He was wary. Of that there was no doubt. And well he might be. Nicholas Garvey was a man with secrets, a man with a fortune at his fingertips, and a past that didn’t lend itself to investigation. She’d known all of that. But she hadn’t expected the effect of dark hair and blue eyes, and the flash of white teeth as he spoke and smiled.
She knew of his past, had heard his sister’s whispered words of confession before she left Amanda behind as she’d set out on the final journey of her life. That she’d been able to furnish the court with a sealed document identifying Nicholas Garvey as the child’s only living relative had been fortuitous for Amanda’s well-being.
Irene knew about her brother, knew of his success, and was shamed by her father’s series of affairs, one of which had produced Nicholas. Before her marriage to the man who’d given her child a name, she had refused to call on Nicholas for help. But after Irene’s death, Carlinda determined to make the rich financier aware of his sister’s life and death, and place him under obligation to the child left behind by her mother’s tragic end.
“I’m doing my best, Irene,” she whispered, tracing a line in the wavy glass before her. “He’ll never know, not from me anyway, about Amanda’s beginnings.” Her sigh was deep, her eyes filling with tears as she turned away from the window. Unless she had overplayed her hand, Nicholas Garvey would do his best to persuade her to remain here in his home, at least until Amanda was settled in and made a part of the household. And she would be wise not to protest too much.
There was nothing left for her in New York City.
She awoke late in the afternoon in the big bed, its comfortable mattress forming to her slender body, and for a moment she looked around her in confusion. And then her memory kicked in and she recalled the long climb up the staircase, remembered looking back at the dark-clad figure watching her from below. He wore the look of a worthy opponent, and she girded herself for whatever he might say or do. Swinging her feet to the floor she looked around, searching the room for her dress.
She’d unbuttoned it and placed it on a chair before crawling beneath the sheet on the wide bed. Now it hung over a rack near the wardrobe, freshly pressed by an unknown hand wielding an iron. No doubt that of the housekeeper. Katie by name, she recalled.
From the hallway beyond the closed door, she heard a tinkling laugh, almost a giggle, and recognized the voice immediately. Amanda at her best, cheerful and lighthearted.
Overlaying the child’s tones, a deeper, masculine tone prevailed, and Carlinda hurriedly slid the dress over her head, aware of Nicholas Garvey’s presence just a few feet away. Even as she buttoned the small, black fastenings on her bodice, she heard the single rap of a knuckle on the wooden panel.
“Yes, I’m coming,” she said, hastening across the room to turn the handle. It swung wide and she looked up into the dark, masculine features of the man she’d traveled halfway across the country to find. “I’m sorry. I only planned to rest for a bit, and I’m afraid I slept longer than I thought.”
“That’s not a problem, Miss Donnelly,” he said nicely, his gaze sliding down the length of her. “We came to rouse you, since Katie announced that supper was served, and Amanda thought you were likely hungry. She tells me you didn’t eat much today.”
Carlinda flushed deeply. The child saw more than she should, and this morning had been a hodgepodge of activity, arriving in Collins Creek, pausing only at the hotel for breakfast before they sought out the bank. Unable to eat the meal she’d ordered, her stomach protesting as she planned her approach to Nicholas, Carlinda had only watched and encouraged Amanda’s halfhearted attempts to get through the plate of eggs and sausage before her.
“I wasn’t hungry,” she said now. “The journey was tiring, and I fear I’d lost my appetite.”
“Well, you’d do well to locate it now. Katie has outdone herself. We don’t often have company,” he said, taking up Amanda’s hand in his and leading the way to the double staircase.
“Mr. Garvey has two sets of steps and two bannisters,” Amanda announced gleefully. “And lots of bedrooms.” With her free hand, she tugged at Carlinda’s skirt, and her whispered words were an easily heard suggestion. “I’ll bet he’s