symposium where we can exchange information, about how things really are with these children. From new techniques to curriculum changes, we could do so much more…”

Heaven knew where all that passion came from, when she’d always been far more of a backseat driver than an instigator. Maybe it was Maguire’s influence, who’d put the concept in her head that you have the right to love how you live.

He’d made her believe it somehow-that she could do anything. Even the things she was afraid of. If she just risked it all and put herself out there.

And as if her heart could do magician’s tricks…suddenly, there he was. Her Maguire. Wearing slacks and a heavy cream-colored sweater, standing at the back of the long conference room. With a dog.

Dogs, of course, were forbidden in the building, but she knew Maguire’s philosophy about that sort of thing. Show him any rule and he’d find an excuse to bend it.

Her voice faltered. Then speeded up. She kept talking, although she wasn’t sure what she said. For darn sure, she had no idea what provoked them all to start applauding. The instant the superintendent stood up, Carolina was free to leave the podium and fly across the room.

“Hey, we didn’t want to interrupt you. We can wait,” Maguire said, but that’s not what he communicated with his eyes.

She searched his face, still not certain why he was here. But then she just grabbed his arm. Outside the conference room, the hallway had occasional passersby. Someone dropped a file; two people ambled past deep in conversation-but it was quiet enough.

He leaned against the wall, looked at her as if all he wanted to do was look. And look. And look. For as long as there were stars.

Because Maguire wasn’t a sentimental man, she warned herself not to hope too much. Maybe she was the one seeing those love stars. She tried to get a grip.

“How are you, my darling?” The croon wasn’t for him, but for the dog. “You remember me, don’t you? I told you we’d find a sucker to take you in, didn’t I?”

“Are you calling me a sucker, Carolina?”

“Not often. Not much. But occasionally.” She straightened, cocked her head. “Like that old song, I think you’re one of those people who need somebody to love. And in the meantime…how on earth do you happen to be here?”

“As we both know, money doesn’t buy everything-but it’ll usually buy any information I want. Instead, I’ve been pretty much combing the universe to find you. I didn’t have any clue that you’d be in Indianapolis, much less in the State Department of Education building.”

“Well, believe me, neither did I. It’s your fault.” She leaned against the wall, too. Inches from his face. Inches from his mouth and eyes and the touch of him.

“My fault?”

“Yeah. I’ve been flunking a few of the lessons you taught me. I admit it. I couldn’t always hold the line. My sister especially got to me. But my brother now, there, I was tough. You’d have been proud. Honest.”

“Maybe I’m already proud, Carolina.”

She wasn’t going to cry, not in a public building. She wasn’t even sure why they were still in the darned building, except that she didn’t want to move an inch. Didn’t want to be separated from that look in his eyes for even a millisecond.

“Sending me the shoe catalog was cruel.”

“You sent me a dog, and you call me cruel? But I loved watching you and the shoe thing. It kept coming to me. When you love, you love, Carolina. All or nothing. All the way. Even when it hurts. I was afraid I’d never be able to offer you the same.”

“You’re out of your mind, as usual, Maguire. You have more love in you than any fifty other people.”

“I never thought that. I don’t know how you thought that. Why’d you send the tree-house books?”

“What makes you think I sent them? Did you like the one with the solar-heated shower?”

“Why’d you send them?” he repeated carefully.

She stopped scrubbing the dog’s ears. “Because, Maguire, as cute as you are, you’re not all that bright. You need to love how you live. You have all these places, but you don’t have a home. A place where you feel safe. A place where you can put your feet up and just be yourself. A place where you don’t have to do a single thing but enjoy the sunshine and the moonbeams.”

“Carolina, quit with the silly talk. I need you to get serious.”

She swallowed. “Okay. I’m serious.”

“How are we going to get the dog in the tree house?”

“A sling. I almost sent you a catalog for those, too.”

“All right. So the dog’s solvable. But now comes the serious, critical problem. How am I going to get you in a tree house with me?”

She gulped. “I didn’t know you wanted me in the tree house with you.”

“I do. I want you in my life. Anywhere, anyhow I can get you. It’s about falling that hard in love with you, Carolina. I never planned on it. It wasn’t supposed to happen. Only now it has. And I’m afraid I’m stuck with wanting you, needing you, loving you, for the rest of my life.”

“A definite problem,” she concurred, and only then was aware that he’d taken her hands. Both of them. That he was holding both as if he was refusing to let go of a lifeline. “Well, here’s the thing, Maguire. I need you to know… that I don’t need a protector. Or a mentor. Or someone to keep me out of trouble. I did, I admit it. But not now.”

“You’re tough,” Maguire concurred.

“It’s been a journey. First to identify what really matters to me. And then to risk it all, no holds barred, to get what I want in my life. And that’s love, Maguire. That’s all I ever wanted from you.”

He pulled her into his arms…and she pulled him into hers. Probably it was impossible to tell the difference. It was right, that’s all she knew. The taste of him, the texture of his mouth, the way he turned a kiss into something thrilling and unforgettable, something more wondrous than she’d ever dreamed of. She tasted their future in that kiss.

“Maguire?” When they both broke for breath, they also instinctively aimed for the door. The sooner they were out of there and in a private place-with the dog, of course-the better.

“I was thinking that we could still get a marriage license this afternoon,” he said.

“I was thinking that you’d better have money. Because I’m very likely going to give all mine away.”

“I figured that. Right after I met you.” Another kiss, this time on her brow, fast and possessive, just before he pushed the door open and the three of them hurried outside. “Let’s go make a life, loved one. Our life. Our way.”

JENNIFER GREENE

lives near Lake Michigan with her husband and an assorted menagerie of pets. Michigan State University has honored her as an outstanding woman graduate for her work with women on campus.

Jennifer has written more than seventy love stories, for which she has won numerous awards, including four RITA® Awards from the Romance Writers of America and both their Hall of Fame and Lifetime Achievement Awards.

You’re welcome to contact Jennifer through her website at www.jennifergreene.com.

***
Вы читаете The Billionaire’s Handler
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату