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It shouldn’t have mattered.
It did, but that still didn’t change things. He’d learned at a young age how dangerous it was simply to follow one’s emotions and impulses. He wasn’t doing it. Not ever again.
“Two weeks rent-free,” he reiterated. “And I’ll get someone—a professional—to help you relocate.”
Her shoulders slumped. “I thought you might have a change of heart. They’re fragile.”
“I see that they’re fragile,” he told her. “I don’t intend to harm them.”
Despite his desire to remain uninvolved, he couldn’t help being moved by the sadness in her voice and her concern for her friends. He felt an unfamiliar urge to make a promise that he couldn’t possibly keep, to tell her that her world wouldn’t change. But he knew all too well how damaging lies could be. He resisted the urge to touch her.
“This is the only home they’ve known for years,” Daisy said. “They fit here. They don’t fit just anywhere. They’re not interchangeable parts that you can plug into any old socket.”
She was reproaching him. He couldn’t blame her, not when she was clearly in pain. Still, he wasn’t going to defend himself, either. That had never been his way.
“We’ll find a suitable place. Or two,” he said. “In a month it will be just like home to all of you. Better than this place.”
She stared at him with those big accusing eyes and he felt as if a part of him he didn’t even recognize had been seared. But he knew better than to let regret or … or feelings enter into this. That path offered nothing but disaster.
“I’ll help you, Daisy,” he reiterated. “Because you can’t stay here. I’ll be leaving soon, and when I go, this building will be empty and it will be sold.”
Daisy stood there and stared at him as if she were taking a beating, not moving, not talking, just … letting his words rain down on her. But at last she gave a brief nod. “You didn’t come to Las Vegas for us. You came because Tillie died and her property passed to you. You’ll want to see what she left you,” she whispered. “I’ll take you there now. I’m afraid there’s not much in the way of personal treasure.”
For some reason he was reluctant to follow Daisy, even though this was one of the main reasons why he was here. After all, this building was her home even if she had no legal right to be here. Still, he couldn’t allow himself to be sentimental. He needed to put Daisy on his checklist the way he put all his tasks on lists. In order of priority. Right now, finding her and the others a new home was high on the list of things he needed to check off. Discovering all he could about his aunt was up there, too. He wasn’t really looking forward to either of those, but at least tending to Daisy and her situation and digging into his aunt’s past was a respite from the board trying to entice him with every debutante in Boston. Right?
He gazed down at Daisy. Had he been staring at her for long? She was blushing prettily, that delicious rose color heating her cheeks, her chest and dipping beneath the bodice of her dress …
“Parker?”
He jerked to attention. Caught. “Sorry. My mind was wandering.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I was thinking about real estate,” he lied. “The agent … I’ll send one here tomorrow. You should compose a list of requirements … anything an agent should know about your needs.”
“Such as how many bedrooms?”
“Yes. Such as that, and whether stairs are a concern. For Nola.”
“I’m surprised you care.”
Parker took a deep breath. “It’s not caring,” he insisted. “It’s common sense. I told you that I’m all business, no sentiment.”
“So you don’t want to see any of Tillie’s things before you tear the building down?”
Wrong. He very much wanted—and needed—to see Tillie’s things. Not for sentimental reasons, but for business ones. But he wouldn’t tell Daisy that. Tillie had been her friend, and she wouldn’t want to know that his chief interest in his aunt was protecting his business from … whatever it was that had made his parents turn their backs on her. There was something hidden, something unacceptable. What was it? What had Mathilda done that had gotten her shunned? Knowing how his parents had been, it could have been anything. They both excelled at shunning people. There would be dirt, of course, but it might not even be very bad dirt. It didn’t take much …
“Show me,” he said. And then, looking into Daisy’s eyes and realizing how cold and imperious that had sounded, he added, “Please show me.”
“All right. It’s just at the top of the stairs.” She turned and began to lead him into the hallway that separated the two buildings. There was a set of stairs there and Daisy led the way.
Her hips swayed before him, and he did his best to put a leash on the quite natural heat that inspired. Instead he tried to concentrate on other things … such as her posture. Her back was very straight, very rigid and he knew that she didn’t like doing this one bit. She didn’t really want him to look at his aunt’s belongings.
“Daisy,” he said softly. “I promise I won’t do anything drastic today.”
Daisy suddenly stopped on the stairs in front of him, and he bumped into her, nearly knocking her forward. Automatically, he looped his arm around her waist to steady her.
That brought her body fully against his, and the soft give of her flesh beneath his palm made his pulse quicken. Her pretty little butt was up against him, his chest against her back. Intimate. His body reacted. Instantly.
Wrong.
He hurried to steady and release her. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, but her back had become even more rigid, if that was possible. “I hadn’t thought about the fact that you would probably pitch all of Tillie’s stuff.”
He wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t, that she could have it, but … how did he know that? Stuff could be hard evidence and could be used against a person.
“We’ll see what’s there, but I won’t do anything right away. Today I’m just looking. All right?”
She nodded, but her body radiated tension, possibly even anger. At the top of the stairs, Daisy pushed on a door that creaked as it opened. She flipped on a light switch and motioned Parker inside. Immediately, a sparkle caught his eye and he turned his gaze to the other side of the room where several clothing racks stood end to end. One of them contained nondescript middle-aged-woman outfits in cheap fabrics. The other two sparkled and glittered with sequins and fake jewels. Some of the outfits sported feathers. All of them were barely there.
He whirled and looked at Daisy. “These were … my aunt’s? She was a …”
Daisy placed one hand on her hips. “Tillie was a showgirl, among other things.” And then she must have noticed his confused look. What did among other things mean?
“Hmmm, I’ll bet that won’t play very well in Boston,” she said. “Or with those luxury-seeking customers who like things sanitized.”
He stepped forward, then froze. “Are you threatening me, Daisy?”
“Threatening?” Looking down at her wide, startled eyes, he realized that he had been wrong. She hadn’t been. And now, once again, he was close enough to touch her. That couldn’t keep happening.
“No, of course not,” he said, backing off. “But you said … among other things. What else was she?” His breath lifted a loose lock of hair at her temple.
Daisy reached out as if to touch him … or push him away, he didn’t know which. “I’m not sure I can explain what Tillie was, and—” She took a big step back. Two steps. One more and she would be tumbling backward down the stairs.
He reached out to catch her again, but she shook her head as she turned and started down the stairs. “I have to go to work,” she said. “I have a tour group, and we have another wedding tonight and one tomorrow.”
And she fled down the stairs.
A short time later he sat staring at a fairly recent diary that—despite the fact that large parts of the book were still blank—left no doubt about at least some of his aunt’s past indiscretions and colorful lifestyle. He was wondering what he should do with the damning book.
No doubt he should pitch it, burn it, shred it. He’d think about that.
But the beep of his cell phone reminded him that this trip—and Daisy—were just detours from his real life. Fran’s text message that Jarrod was trying to finagle Parker’s private phone number in order to discuss some of the female guests the board wanted to invite to the annual Sutcliffe Industries Ball was a reminder of just how intent Parker’s relative-heavy board was on turning him into a living billboard for the company. They wanted him to adopt the role his father had taken as the aristocratic symbol of Sutcliffe’s, a sort of Prince Charming waltzing to the Wedding March, all for the sake of marketing. If he was going to come up with a better alternative to pull Sutcliffe’s out of its slump and make it a household name for the elite, he needed to come up with a brilliant plan fast. Only two things stood in the way of him devoting all of his time to finding that plan: his aunt and one caramel-eyed pixie with flowers between her pink toes.
“So do your research on Mathilda and find Daisy a viable home and get her off your plate,” he ordered himself. “Quickly.”
Good advice. With a little luck and a good real estate agent, Daisy and her “team” would be stirring up trouble for someone else soon. And he would have forgotten that he’d ever met her.
CHAPTER THREE
DAISY waited until Parker had left the building before she slipped back inside. She had lied about her tour. It had been canceled. That was money she couldn’t afford to lose, but right now she was more concerned about what Parker Sutcliffe meant to her and her friends … and her child.
She didn’t want to think about how crazy he made her feel whenever he got too close to her. Letting herself be even mildly attracted to the man could only end badly.
Sure, Parker was being nice by letting them live rent-free while he helped them find a place, but they were worlds apart, he was eager to get away and she had already had far too much experience with men who didn’t stay.
Even more important, she was still getting used to the scary reality that she would soon be the source of … everything for a totally helpless baby. So, for now, for the sake of the others and her baby, she would accept Parker’s help, but it had to be temporary. This situation was just more proof that she needed to become completely independent. No leaning on a man, no wanting a man. She had to make something better for her child, to find a secure fulltime job and build a protective cocoon around herself and her baby. Getting dreamy about a rich guy who was on his way back to his rich world and his rich, sophisticated, not-pregnant women would be totally irresponsible. And irresponsible was number two on her list of things she didn’t do anymore.
Number one was putting her trust in a man. She thought of that when Lydia asked her why she hadn’t told Parker that she was pregnant.
“You should tell him,” Lydia said. “You’re not showing yet, but if you told him, maybe he would …”
Daisy shook her head vehemently. “He wouldn’t understand. His type doesn’t. And if he finds out about my past or thinks too hard about the fact that we’re breaking the law by being here, he might report me as an unfit mother or something like that. Then I couldn’t keep the baby.” The thought terrified her.
“So … what are we going to do?” John asked.
Daisy took a deep breath, trying for the thousandth time not to panic at the thought of how dependent her friends were and how afraid she was of failing them. She wondered if Tillie had felt this way. For half a second she wondered if Parker felt that way right now, and she almost felt sorry for the man. He hadn’t asked to have them all dumped on him. But she had no time to mull that over. John was waiting.
“Well,” Daisy said, putting on her what-would-Tillie-do? thinking cap. “First I’m going to go be sick. No big deal. Just morning sickness. The usual. And then we’re going to get ready for tomorrow’s wedding.”
The one thing Daisy could count on to take her mind off things was her role in planning the weddings. Even if she didn’t want a wedding for herself, she loved planning weddings for others. The irony and sometimes the difficulty of creating weddings for people when she would never have a happily ever after didn’t escape her. But she’d been helping Tillie since she was a teenager, and Tillie had loved weddings. Creating special ones made Daisy feel a connection to Tillie. And the next one was a fairy-tale wedding. Literally. Tillie’s favorite and hers. Trying to forget her own troubles, she threw herself into planning a personalized ceremony.
It was only when Daisy got to the part where the groom/prince was supposed to say his special vows and take the bride in his arms that she suddenly remembered how she’d felt when Parker had caught her in his arms to keep her from falling. She’d leaned back against his chest, she’d felt his big palms on her body and—
Daisy’s pen slid across the page. “Darn it! You wanted him to turn you around and kiss you. Having felt his hands, you wanted to know how his mouth felt, too, didn’t you?”
Maybe. For sure she’d wanted to kiss him. It was a horrifying thought, except … it also made her smile. What would stuffy Parker Sutcliffe do if someone like her wrapped herself around him and kissed him?
Probably have her arrested. Or put her out on the street right now.
And that was just one of the many reasons why she had to stay away from Parker’s body. The most important reason was … more basic.
Daisy glanced down at her abdomen. “I don’t know how much you can absorb at this point,” she told her unborn child. “But I want you to know that while you might not have had the best of beginnings—and I’m taking my share of responsibility for that—I’m glad that you’re here and I will do everything possible to make sure that you have a stable life. I’m going to do my best never to do anything irresponsible like falling for men who might hurt us. So you should know right now that except for Nola and Lydia and John, it will always just be you and me, but that’s okay. We’ll be together and we’ll be fine on our own. I’ll see to it.”
Still, Daisy sighed slightly at the thought of never being able to satisfy her curiosity about Parker’s lips. And then, frowning, she pushed that thought aside. And went back to her planning. When she read through her notes later, she realized that in the midst of them she had written “No kissing.”
That might be a problem at a wedding, she conceded as she crossed out the word no and replaced it with lots of.
Lips would be touching at this wedding. Just not hers and Parker’s.
Parker wasn’t happy when he approached Daisy’s building the next afternoon. He opened the front door. Didn’t they ever lock anything? Didn’t they have any idea about basic safety? Adding a lock and a doorbell system? Anyone could walk right in and be inside the building that led to their living space and what would one petite woman and three senior citizens do if that happened?
He frowned, reminding himself that all of that would be moot soon. Besides, why was he even having those kinds of thoughts? Daisy was a stranger, one he really didn’t want to know. Certainly, he didn’t want to feel any sense of responsibility for her, did he?
“Uh-oh. The real estate agent must have told you something awful.” Daisy’s soft voice came from behind the piano, making him blink.
He walked over to the old, battered upright and found her sifting through sheet music. “Why would you say that?”
“Well, for one thing you’re here when I hadn’t expected to see you. And you’re also frowning, but then …”
Right. He’d been frowning a lot lately. “Yes, well I do have some bad news. You were right. The agent said that the apartment hunt might be a challenge. She also suggested that you … consider ditching the dog if at all possible.
It’s definitely easier to place tenants without pets or children.”
Daisy gave a tight nod. “So I hear.” Her voice came out as a whisper. She turned away a bit. “What did you tell her?”
He hesitated. “I told her to keep looking.” He didn’t mention that the woman had told him that a landlord would most likely charge extra for the animal, which might make the price prohibitively expensive for Daisy. Or that the woman had insisted on giving him numbers of prospective shelters. Daisy might be an unwelcome impediment to his plans, but … she was here. He might not be capable of the deeper emotions other people felt, but he also tried to avoid trampling on those feelings whenever possible.
For some reason, he was pretty sure that Daisy would feel things multiplied by three. Which made dealing with her three times more difficult, especially since, sooner or later, she would probably have to face the fact that Romeo would need a new owner. Why he was putting off the inevitable when he didn’t have time to waste was a mystery to him, one he didn’t want to examine too closely. The answer was probably complicated, and he couldn’t afford complications here. Still …
“We’ll keep looking,” he repeated.
“Thank you,” she said, but her voice still sounded slightly faint. “Hopefully, we can find something quickly, and you and I can get past this and end our association.”
“That was … very polite. I know that you don’t like this situation any more than I do.”
“No. I don’t like being indebted to anyone and I’m not happy about the situation, but I appreciate the fact that you had the right to kick us out immediately and you didn’t.”
“Maybe I just didn’t want my name splashed all over the headlines as a greedy jerk who threw old people out on the street.”
She blinked as if she’d never thought of that, and he almost wanted to smile.
“I never thought of that,” she said, confirming his suspicions. “Is that why you let us stay?”
“I don’t know.” It was true. The thought had certainly crossed his mind, but he wasn’t certain it was the only reason, and, like so many things with Daisy, the truth was complicated. Parker wished he’d stop having that thought. He grimaced.
She nodded. “Okay. I won’t probe. Was that all you came for? To tell me about Romeo?”
“Not exactly.” After his brief foray into Aunt Mathilda’s possessions, he’d concluded that there was little of her history to be found here. Absolutely nothing about her link to his family. The diary seemed to point to a chaotic life, but it had been written recently, and most recently his aunt had been running a chapel and housing Daisy and her crew. Nothing was clear … which might slow down his investigation. It also made her more interesting: a secret puzzle piece from his past, but also a possible Pandora’s box.
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