A Will and a Wedding. Lois Richer
of making me feel better at Oak Bluff when things at home weren’t going very well.”
She cocked her dark curly head to one side, appraising him with quizzical jade eyes.
“You haven’t been around for quite a while,” she accused. “I’ve been living here for six months and in all that time Judith never saw you once.”
Jeff shook his dark head. “No, she didn’t.”
He refused to justify himself to her, Cassie noted. He might as well have told her to mind her own business. Still, she had needed to ask.
“Where will you live when they sell the house?” she asked curiously. The way he kept watching her made Cassie nervous.
“The same place I’ve been living for years,” he commented sarcastically. Jeff’s dark eyes stared down at her unperturbed.
Cassie bristled at the condescending note that filled his low voice. Her temper was one of the things she constantly tried to rein in, but inevitably she forgot all about control and let loose when she should have kept cool. This was one of those times.
“Look, Mr. Haddon,” the emphasis was unmistakable. “Perhaps I don’t have the obvious resources you have and your aunt had, but I am not some subhuman hussy trying to swindle you. I am interested in what happens to this house because it involves my family and my employment. When I move, I will lose these children because I don’t have the housing resources to meet government standards. Pardon me if I seem concerned!”
She would have angrily spun out of the room, but Jefferson Haddon grasped her arm and forcibly tugged her back When she looked up, his rugged face was stretched in a self-mocking grin. His long fingers plucked the ragged denim away from his lean form.
“I’m sorry,” he proffered humbly. “I’m dressed like a bum and now I’m acting like one. Can we at least try to be friends?” When she didn’t answer, he pressed her hand. “For Aunt Judith’s sake? I’m sure she thought a lot of you to ask you to live here.”
Cassie eyed him suspiciously through her narrowed eyes. Regardless of what attire Jefferson Haddon III donned, she doubted if anyone would ever question his status as the lord of the manor. And that mildly beseeching tone didn’t suit him at all.
Expertly cut black hair lay close against his well-shaped head, the back just grazing the collar of his shirt. Broad forehead, long aristocratic nose and a wide mouth seemed chiseled into classically perfect proportions which screamed blueblood.
Jeff Haddon had the lanky, whipcord-strong type of body Cassie had always assumed belonged to cowboys, not playboys. His shoulders looked muscular and wide beneath the torn flannel, his hips narrow with long, long legs. He looked what he was, a rich business tycoon dressed in let’spretend-we’re-slumming clothes.
Right now his dark eyes beseeched her to understand. Grudgingly she accepted his apology even as she tugged her smaller hand from his. She hated having to tip her head so far back just to look at him and vowed to buy some four-inch heels to wear when he was around.
“I don’t think friendship is exactly what your aunt had in mind when she made up that will,” Cassie quipped, curious about the red stain that covered his pronounced cheekbones.
“Then I guess we’ll just have to pretend,” he retorted.
“Fine. Truce.” Cassie turned to leave.
“Where are you going?” His voice was an exact replica of two-year-old Mark’s and Cassie smiled at the sound of petulance.
“I thought perhaps you would prefer to be alone. This house is big enough to get lost in and failing that, I can go help in the kitchen,” she replied, moving toward the door.
His rumbly voice stopped her.
“Why don’t you have coffee with me instead?” he asked, holding out a slim hand toward the huge armchair that had always been Cassie’s favorite. “Mrs. Bennet just brought a fresh pot in,” he cajoled.
Cassie studied him for a few minutes, assessing his intent with all her senses on alert. Finally, she allowed herself to be guided to her seat. Her fingers closed around the mug of steaming coffee with pleasure. She sipped the rich dark brew slowly, closing her eyes in satisfaction.
“Don’t you just love coffee?” she murmured, inhaling the aroma that steamed off her cup. “I can never get enough.”
“I limit myself to three cups a day,” Jeff told her. “Too much caffeine is unhealthy.”
Cassie ignored him, rolling the hot liquid around on her tongue. “Nothing that tastes this good could be that unhealthy,” she countered, curling herself comfortably into the chair.
She watched him sit stiffly erect in the straight-backed chair. His silent appraisal unnerved her.
She could feel the tension building as electric currents snapped in the air between them. She had felt it before, that nervous awareness whenever he watched her.
Suddenly, she felt extremely conscious of that same, powerful attraction she had felt earlier today. It made her jittery. Cassie had plenty of contact with men in the course of her work, but they were colleagues, older than her, often balding with paunches.
And none had sent her pulse soaring or her heart thudding the way this man did. It was disconcerting. She tried to bury feelings she didn’t understand under a bluster of bravado.
“Coffee’s not a risk. It’s a necessity.” Her gaze fixed on his. The silence in the room yawned between them. Cassie searched her mind for trivial conversation that would break the current of magnetism drawing her into the dark depths of his eyes.
“Are you married?” she blurted out and then chided herself for her stupidity. When would she learn to control her tongue?
Jeff stared at her through narrow-slitted eyes, his mouth tight. “Obviously not, if my aunt is trying to marry the two of us off.” His answer was short and did not welcome further comments.
Cassie ignored that. “I just wondered what you would do with all this room if you did live here,” she pondered, glancing around the beautiful space. “It’s a home meant for a family.”
“What would you do?” His tone was razor sharp but Cassie ignored that, preferring to lose herself in a world of dreams. “Cassie?” His voice had softened and she dragged open her eyes to find his dark gaze resting on her in an assessing manner.
“I’d fill it with children,” she told him simply.
“Ah, you’re planning on getting married, then?” he asked shortly, dark eyes glittering.
Cassie sat up straight at that, untangling her feet from under her.
“Good grief, no.” She laughed. “I meant with foster kids.”
She was pretty sure her face gave away her thoughts. She’d never been much good at pretence and there was no point in trying to hide her plans for this house.
Not that it mattered now.
“There are so many kids who could really benefit from a few months here. Away from the pain and confusion that have left them wondering about their future. This is a place where they could feel safe and carefree.” She grinned up at him. “Sorry. When I get on my soapbox, I tend to start preaching.”
Jeff’s eyes raked over her curiously.
“But don’t you want your own children? I can’t imagine that you would waste all your efforts on someone else’s offspring. Don’t most women want to get married and have children?”
He was watching her again. His eyes were bright with what she privately termed his banker’s look, as if he were assessing her net occupational worth.
“Oh, but these are my children,” she exclaimed. “Every child that comes under my care has a special place in my heart.”
“You