Реклама
Читать книгу: «Natural Born Daddy»
Friendship blossoms into romance in this reader-favorite Adams Dynasty story from New York Times bestselling author Sherryl Woods.
Jordan Adams proposed a marriage of convenience to single mom Kelly Flint because he thought it was time they each settled down with a perfectly compatible, always-dependable partner. After all, they'd both learned the hard way that love only leads to heartache.
But to his surprise, Kelly made Jordan feel that their marriage would be anything but platonic, and her little daughter kindled fond feelings of fatherhood in his heart. Now he had to convince Kelly that he was not only a natural born daddy…but also the perfect husband she’d been waiting for all her life.
Natural Born Daddy
Sherryl Woods
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
Title Page
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
Copyright
Prologue
“Hey, boss, the barracuda…excuse me, your fiancée is on line two,” Ginger Drake announced from the doorway.
Jordan glowered at his impudent secretary. “I’ve told you not to call her that.”
Undaunted, Ginger merely strolled into his office and perched on the corner of his desk, an act that hiked her skirt to midthigh. Jordan shook his head. If she weren’t the most efficient, most incredibly loyal young woman who’d ever worked for him, he would have fired her months ago for her tart remarks and her unrepentant intrusion into his personal life.
“You’ve also told me to be honest and truthful, no matter how much it hurts,” she informed him now. “That’s my job around here.”
“Your job is taking dictation and typing.”
“And keeping you happy,” she reminded him. She gestured at the blinking phone line. “She does not make you happy. She is a b—”
“Don’t say it,” he warned, reaching for the phone.
Ginger shrugged. “Well, she is, which you could see for yourself, if you weren’t blinded by the size of her—”
“Ginger!” He pointed toward the door. “Out!”
“Just doing my job,” she said, and sashayed from the room with a provocative sway of her hips.
Unable to resist, Jordan watched that motion with an appreciative eye. If he hadn’t known that she was blissfully married to a linebacker for the Houston Oilers, he would have assumed that Ginger was trying to get his attention. Instead, he knew perfectly well that feminine provocation came as naturally and unselfconsciously to her as flirting with the opposite sex did to him. The difference was, he had tired of it.
Being named one of the city’s most eligible bachelors the past five years in a row had lost its charm. He was ready to settle down. The woman on the phone was the candidate he’d chosen six months ago from the string of female acquaintances who accompanied him to the various charity functions that made up the bulk of his social life.
“Hey, darlin’, how are you?” he said to Rexanne Marshall once Ginger was out of hearing range with the office door firmly shut behind her. “How was the convention?”
“Interesting,” Rexanne said in that deliberately smoky voice that oozed sensuality and, as she well knew, sent goose bumps dancing down his spine.
He settled back in his chair and asked, “Did you make any big deals?” Rexanne really got turned on by her deal making. He could practically envision their passionate reunion.
“You could say that.”
Jordan thought he heard something odd in her tone, a hint of strain that was rare for the supremely confident, highly successful owner of a small but thriving Texas cosmetics company. It was a company poised to make a major move into the national marketplace with his financial backing.
“Rexanne, is everything okay?”
“Jordan…”
He could hear her swallowing and suddenly his body went absolutely still. She had bad news. He could tell from that increasingly evident note of uncertainty in her voice. He sat up a little straighter.
“Whatever it is, just tell me,” he instructed. He’d meant to sound patient and concerned, but even he recognized the drill-sergeant command in his voice.
“Actually, it was the most amazing thing,” she began with a nervous little giggle.
Rexanne was quite possibly the most sophisticated woman he’d ever met. She never giggled. His suspicions tripled as he waited for her to go on.
“I ran into this man, an old friend, actually, from high school, as a matter of fact.”
Now the woman who never wasted a word was babbling. Jordan’s sense of dread kicked in. He stood and began to pace, phone in hand. “And?”
“Well, the truth of it is…Jordan, I’m really sorry about this, but…”
“Just spit it out, Rexanne.”
“Randall and I got married,” she blurted at last. “In Vegas.”
Rexanne and Randall? How alliterative, he thought with an uncharacteristic edge of sarcasm. Married? How considerate of her to give him fair warning. The same society page columnists who’d been gushing about their engagement would be gossiping about this turn of events for weeks. It was only one step short of being left at the altar. He didn’t like the prospect of being the subject of speculation and innuendo. He didn’t like it one damned bit.
“I see,” he said coldly. Not entirely sure of the protocol for the circumstances, he went with his gut reaction, which was liberally laced with more sarcasm. “Thank you so much for calling, Rexanne. Have a nice life.”
“Now, Jordan, please don’t be like that,” she whined.
Why had he never noticed that she whined? he wondered. Probably because he’d given in to her every request, showered her with gifts and never once in the months since they had announced their engagement exchanged a cross word with her. Of course, that was probably because Rexanne had tucked herself so neatly and cheerfully into his life, he’d had no reason to complain.
“Darling, I know it’s a shock and I wouldn’t have hurt you for the world, but this was, like, fate or something,” she said in a more familiar, smoky, cajoling tone.
“Fate?” he repeated numbly. “Yes, I suppose it was.” Fate had benevolently prevented him from having to listen to that whine for the rest of his days. She could ooze sensuality from now to doomsday and he would never stop hearing that whine. It would lurk in his memory like the sound of chalk squeaking across a blackboard.
“Darling, you can’t let this change in our personal status interfere with the business arrangement we have,” she protested. “You’re too much of a businessman. You and I are going to take Marshall Cosmetics to the top around the globe. We’re going to make a fortune.”
Ah, now they were getting to her real concern, not his feelings, but her future plans for Marshall Cosmetics. “Sorry, darlin’, I’m afraid that’s going to be up to you and Randall.”
“But you promised,” she whined.
The sound of her voice was really getting on his nerves. “So did you,” he reminded her icily. “Goodbye, Rexanne.”
He hung up before she could launch into an attempt to sugarcoat the now-obvious truth—that she had wanted his money and his connections to Wall Street more than she had ever wanted him.
As he sat staring out at the sweeping view of the Houston skyline, he wondered at his lack of emotion. Shouldn’t he have felt more than this vague irritation that his plans for settling down had been disrupted? Shouldn’t he be feeling empty inside? Shouldn’t he be throwing things? He hefted a Baccarat crystal paperweight consideringly, then shrugged and lowered it to his desk. She wasn’t worth it.
Maybe he was incapable of the kind of passion that his older brother Luke had found with Jessie. Maybe, he conceded, he’d gone about finding a wife too methodically.
Or maybe the incredible judgment that had propelled him to the top of the oil industry didn’t carry over into personal matters. Maybe he was doomed to make the same mistakes over and over, trusting the wrong women.
It wasn’t, he admitted to himself ruefully, as if Rexanne had been the first. There had been a whole damned army of poor choices, starting back in college and continuing right up through this latest debacle. Oddly enough, he realized he couldn’t even recall the names of most of them. Obviously his heart had never been as engaged as he’d thought it had been.
Finally, dragging in a deep breath, he pushed the problem aside for further consideration on the weekend. He was almost tempted to make a notation to himself on his calendar, so he wouldn’t forget. Women ought to be enough of a reminder. He reached for his daybook and dutifully jotted it down. He would matter-of-factly dissect his love life as he would a business proposition to see if he could pinpoint where he was going wrong.
He turned back to his desk just in time to see Ginger poking her head into his office. The grin on her face made him wonder if she’d been eavesdropping on his conversation. She’d apparently seen all along what he hadn’t, that Rexanne was a barracuda. No doubt that smile meant she was delighted that the woman was out of his life.
“Hey, boss, didn’t you hear me buzzing you?” she asked.
“If I had, I would have answered,” he retorted irritably.
Her grin widened. She knew, all right, he decided with a sinking feeling. It appeared his latest humiliation was complete. There would be weeks of hearing I told you so from her, interspersed with renewed attempts at matchmaking. Maybe he’d finally give in. Ginger’s taste couldn’t possibly be any worse than his own, though she did seem to know a disturbing number of professional cheerleaders.
“Line one,” she prompted him. “It’s Kelly.”
For some inexplicable reason, Jordan found himself smiling back at his secretary. If there was one person on the face of the earth who could take his mind off his troubles, it was Kelly Flint. She was his best friend, his confidante, his conscience. She had an angel of mercy’s sense of timing.
As he reached for the phone the most incredible thought flashed through his head. Why the devil couldn’t he marry a woman like Kelly? She was sweet, not the least bit temperamental, funny and, though he’d never really stopped to think about it before—at least not since the days when they’d gone swimming in the creek together back in west Texas—sexy. In fact, just thinking about her sex appeal made him wonder why he hadn’t settled on Kelly as the perfect solution long ago.
“Why, indeed?” he murmured thoughtfully, picturing her in his head and liking what he saw—clean-scrubbed, basic beauty with absolutely no artifice about her. Better yet, he knew for a fact that she didn’t have a duplicitous bone in her body. She would never betray the man she loved.
“What was that, boss?” Ginger asked, regarding him with a puzzled look.
“Nothing,” he said, because confiding in Ginger would only draw more advice than he could handle right now. “Nothing at all.”
Something told him, though, that the disclaimer was more than a massive understatement. He had a feeling he had just reached the most significant turning point in his entire life. He mentally scratched the subject of women from his calendar and replaced it with one word: Kelly.
By the end of the day he would have his plan for marrying her formulated and by the weekend he’d be ready to put it into action. Unless something unforeseen popped up, he and Kelly could be married and settled down by fall. He wouldn’t even have to alter the schedule he’d set for himself when he’d asked Rexanne to marry him.
Pleased with himself, he finally poked the blinking light on his phone. “Hey, darlin’,” he said, taking what he perceived to be the first step on the road to the rest of his life.
Chapter One
Jordan drove up the dusty, shaded lane to Kelly’s ranch in west Texas with a rare knot in his stomach. Once he’d gotten the idea of marrying her into his head, he hadn’t been able to shake it loose. It had been like a burr, sticking to him and snagging his attention at the oddest times.
The only thing that had prevented him from impulsively proposing to her on the phone when she’d called his office earlier in the week was Ginger’s fascinated expression as she stood beside his desk the whole time he was on the phone. He had a gut-level feeling that even though his secretary might have applauded Rexanne’s replacement, there was something vaguely tacky about proposing to a woman not five minutes after being dumped by the previous fiancée.
Over the next few days the previously implausible idea of marrying his best friend had begun to take shape in his head. He could actually envision Kelly at his side for the rest of his life.
As he’d reminded himself when the idea first came to him, she was calm, sweet and beautiful, at least when she wasn’t covered head-to-toe in filth from a rough day on the range. Of course, that wouldn’t be a problem once they were married and she was living with him in Houston. She’d have endless hours to pamper herself.
With her glowing skin, her hair the color of wheat in sunlight, and her unexpected brown eyes, she would knock the socks off of Houston society. With her warmth, she would be an asset as a hostess for the kinds of functions that were required of a corporate president. His friends and associates would find her tales of running her own ranch intriguing, if something of an oddity for a woman alone.
Well, not alone, exactly, he reminded himself. There was Danielle. The preschooler was the by-product of Kelly’s unfortunate marriage to Paul Flint, a philanderer of the first order, a man who had taken Kelly’s tender, trusting heart and broken it into pieces.
Hands clenched and temper barely contained, Jordan had witnessed most of that particular debacle. He’d provided the shoulder for Kelly to cry on when she’d finally decided to end the marriage and take her daughter home to Los Pinos, the tiny west Texas town where they’d grown up on neighboring ranches.
Danielle was a bit of a complication, he had to admit. He was lousy with kids. He had no idea what to say to them. In all of his plans for settling down, he rarely considered the next step—kids.
He thought back to the previous Christmas. When his sister-in-law had shown up at the family ranch with his infant niece, he’d been completely stymied about what to do with that fragile little baby. Even the prospect of holding her had made his palms sweat. He’d tried not to let his reaction show, but he had known that he had negotiated multimillion-dollar business deals with less display of nerves.
Danielle was equally perplexing to him, even though in a fit of sentiment he’d allowed himself to be persuaded to be her godfather.
The child was barely three feet tall, he reminded himself. At five, she already had an astonishing and precocious vocabulary. Surely he could find a way to communicate with her. If nothing else, he could always buy her half the stock at Toys Unlimited. She’d be so busy with all those new playthings, she wouldn’t require any attention at all from him.
Satisfied that he’d dealt with that potential problem in his usual decisive way, he drew in a deep breath and rehearsed what he would say to Kelly to persuade her to marry him. For all of his planning, this part had never quite solidified the way it should have. He kept envisioning her laughing in his face, amused by his out-of-the-blue proposal after all these years of platonic friendship.
Perhaps he should simply tell her that she was the answer to his prayers, someone he liked, someone he trusted.
Someone who could keep him out of the clutches of the wrong women. Even as the words formed, he groaned. Telling her that would certainly go a long way toward charming her. No matter how unemotional she might be, even a woman who’d been chosen as the solution to a problem of sorts wanted to be wooed a little. As a practical matter, he knew Kelly would see the sense of his proposal, but he would definitely have to dress it up with a little romance.
Damn, how was he going to pull this off? Kelly was the most fiercely independent woman he’d ever met, especially since her divorce. She might not want to marry anyone after her experience with Paul, especially not a man who, at one time or another, had been pictured on the society pages with half of Houston’s eligible female population. His track record, though certainly not immoral, might be a too vivid reminder of her ex’s habits.
Since the divorce, Kelly had taken charge of her life. She had returned to the falling down ranch her family had left her and tackled the task of making it work with the kind of gritty determination he couldn’t help but admire.
For the past two years she had worn herself ragged, working from before dawn until well after dark, seven days a week. The ranch hardly had a look of prosperity about it, but there was no mistaking that her efforts were paying off. There was fresh paint on the old house, inside and out, and her herd of longhorns was growing. Even now the livestock was visible in the distance, grazing on newly acquired pastureland she had bought with every penny of her divorce settlement.
The hard work should have taken its toll, but, he was forced to admit, in recent months Kelly had never looked healthier or happier. She no longer had the haggard, tight-lipped, stricken look of a woman who’d been betrayed by the man she’d loved. In fact, she glowed, radiating a sense of serenity and bone-deep satisfaction that had made visiting her the highlight of his trips home.
Whenever the weighty sense of family that Harlan Adams imposed on all of his sons grew too burdensome, Jordan slipped away from White Pines and spent time in Kelly’s kitchen, sipping the herbal tea she preferred and talking of inconsequential things that somehow all added up to a kind of tranquility he found nowhere else in his life. The thought of spending the rest of his days around a woman capable of creating such a peaceful atmosphere soothed him.
Okay, so they wouldn’t be marrying for love. Neither of them had had much luck with messy emotions anyway. An old-style marriage of convenience struck him as the sensible way to go. Kelly would never have to worry about money for herself or her daughter again and he would never have to deal with another female barracuda.
As he walked toward the front porch of the ranch house, a porch that sagged and dipped from years of use and sloppy construction, he noted the huge pots of bright flowers she tended with such care in the evenings. They were thriving, the blossoms providing vivid splashes of color against the front of the white house.
Already anticipating their life together, he sighed with contentment. Kelly was a nurturer. Like those flowers, he and any children they ultimately might have would thrive in her care. Assuming he got over this uneasiness he felt with these pint-size enigmas, that is.
He fingered the small jewelry box in his pocket and smiled, pleased with his decision. Kelly’s fat gray-and-white cat wound between his legs, purring and shedding on his navy pants. Jordan glanced down, felt a momentary touch of annoyance, then sighed. The old tomcat was part of the package and at least he seemed delighted by Jordan’s presence.
With a rare twinge of trepidation, he knocked on the screen door and called out, “Hey, darlin’, it’s me.”
He heard the thunder of tiny feet as Dani came careering around a corner and raced down the hallway. She skidded to a halt, her blond curls bouncing.
“Hi, Jordan,” she said, swinging the screen door wide and coming out to join him. “Mommy’s in the barn. Francie’s having kittens. A lot of kittens.”
Jordan cringed. “Really?”
“Want to come see?”
He would rather eat dirt, but the sparkle of anticipation in Dani’s eyes was too powerful to resist. “Sure.”
To his astonishment, Dani tucked her hand trustingly in his and tugged him around the side of the house toward the barn. “You could have one, if you wanted,” she told him.
“I work very long hours. I’m not sure what I’d do with a kitten in Houston,” he said, trying to sound as if he regretted it when the truth was he couldn’t have been more relieved.
“Cats don’t mind if you’re not home very much. They’re very independent,” she informed him. “We hardly ever see Francie, except when she’s going to have kittens.”
Old Francie reminded him of certain types of people who only turned up when they were in trouble. He hoped Kelly wasn’t going to view his visit that way.
Dani stopped on the path in front of him, her face turned up, her brow knitted with concern. “Mommy says we have to give all of them away,” she told him.
Her eyes suddenly and, Jordan thought, rather suspiciously filled with tears.
“What if we can’t find homes for them?” she asked, sounding pathetic. “Will we have to drown them in the creek?”
The little minx was pulling out all the stops. Jordan choked back a chuckle at the preposterous notion that Kelly would allow harm to come to a single kitten. “No, Dani, I seriously doubt that your mother would drown them in the creek. Where would you ever get such an idea?”
“That’s what Daddy said should happen to kittens.”
“But you didn’t do it, did you?”
“No, because I found homes for every single one.” She looked up at him speculatively. “Maybe they’d like a new kitten at White Pines. I’ll bet there are mice there and everything. A kitten would be a big help.”
“I’ll ask,” he told her, wondering what his mother would have to say about a kitten scratching her precious antique furniture.
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart.”
A radiant smile spread across her face. “Thanks, Jordan. I really, really think you should take one, too. So you won’t be lonely.”
Actually, he had another idea for staving off loneliness. He glanced up and saw the very woman he had in mind standing in the barn, hands on slender hips, a challenging spark in her eyes as she regarded her daughter.
“You have your work cut out for you, young lady,” Kelly announced, barely sparing a glance for Jordan. “There are seven kittens in here. Francie’s tuckered out and so am I. See to it that Francie has some fresh food and water.”
“Cream, Mommy. Don’t you think she deserves cream just this once? Having kittens is hard work.”
“Fine, bring her some cream.”
Dani tore off across the lawn as fast as her churning little legs could carry her.
“And don’t put it in a good china bowl! Use plastic,” Kelly shouted after her. Finally she glanced at Jordan. “What brings you by on a Friday night? You didn’t mention anything about coming home when we talked earlier in the week.”
Jordan shrugged. He was struck by an uncharacteristic twinge of uncertainty. He tucked his hand into his pocket and tightened his grip around the jewelry box for reassurance. “Just an impulse.”
“Come on in. I’ll make us some tea. Chamomile, I think. You look almost as frazzled as I feel.”
“You don’t look frazzled,” he noted even though it was a charitable remark. Her hair was tousled, her makeup nonexistent, her clothes caked with mud and hay and other stains that didn’t bear too close a scrutiny.
Inside the cozy kitchen, which was shadowed in the gathering twilight, she smiled at him. She took down two china cups and placed them on the kitchen table. “And you’re a lousy liar, despite all that practice you get dispensing your charm all over Houston. How’s the oil business?”
“Challenging.”
Attuned as always to his moods, she paused while filling the teakettle with water. “Bad week?”
“No worse than most.”
Her gaze narrowed. “That doesn’t sound convincing, old chum.”
Jordan picked up the empty cup and turned it slowly in his hands. The fine porcelain was cracked and chipped, but he found the delicacy oddly enchanting. Flaws, he’d discovered over time, often made people, like china, more interesting. He wondered what flaws Kelly had. After all these years, he could think of none. Discovering them suddenly struck him as a fascinating pastime.
“Jordan?”
He looked up from the fragile cup and saw that Kelly was regarding him with a puzzled expression. Those huge brown eyes of hers were filled with concern.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Rexanne broke the engagement,” he announced casually.
“Good,” Kelly replied without the slightest hint of sympathy.
“Damn,” he muttered irritably. “Did everybody dislike her except me?”
“I didn’t dislike her,” Kelly corrected. “I just thought she was all wrong for you.”
“Why?”
“She was using you.”
“Weren’t they all,” he said dryly.
“As a matter of fact, yes,” she said as she poured the boiling water into the pot, tossed in a handful of tea leaves and waited for it to steep.
“Have you ever approved of any woman I’ve dated?”
Kelly took the question he’d intended to be sarcastic seriously. “There was one, back in college. I think her name was Pamela. You dumped her after the first date.”
“And she was right for me?”
“I didn’t have all that long to check out her sincerity,” she reminded him, “but, yes, I think she could have been. She was sweet.”
Jordan scowled. Sweet? Perhaps innocuous would have been a better description. He didn’t even remember a Pamela, which didn’t say much for either her or him.
“Actually, I think my taste is improving,” he said, his gaze fixed on Kelly’s face. There was no immediate reaction beyond a faint flicker of something in her eyes, something he couldn’t quite identify. She seemed slightly more alert, perhaps even a little wary.
“You’ve already found a replacement for Rexanne? Isn’t that a little cavalier?”
“Not really. I told you a long time ago that I thought it was time for me to settle down.”
“Right, so you proposed to the first woman to cross your path after that, and look where that got you.”
“She wasn’t the first woman to cross my path,” he protested. “I was seeing several women at the time. Rexanne seemed like the best choice.”
“Maybe out of that lot, but did you ever stop to consider there was slim pickings in that bunch?” She waggled a slender finger at him. “I’ll answer that. No, you did not. You just decided you wanted to be married and filled the opening as methodically as you would have a position at your company. You probably had a stupid checksheet.”
She wasn’t all that far off the mark, though he wouldn’t have told her that for another gusher in his oil fields. “Well, I’m not going to be so hasty about it this time,” he said.
“You just told me you’ve identified the woman you want to marry. It’s been what? Two days? Maybe three since your engagement broke off?”
“Four, actually.”
She rolled her eyes. “Definitely long enough,” she said with a touch of unfamiliar sarcasm. “Jordan, why can’t you just relax and let nature take its course?”
He gave her a disdainful look. “I don’t have a lot of faith in nature.”
She gave him a wry look. “You would if you’d been in that barn with me an hour ago.”
“I don’t think the fact that your tomcat can’t keep his paws off of Francie is a testament to nature in its finest moments.”
She shrugged, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Okay, you may have a point about that. So, who’s the latest woman to capture your fancy?”
He leveled a look straight into her eyes and waited until he was sure he had her full attention. “Actually, it’s you.”
Kelly—calm, serene, unflappable Kelly—succumbed to a coughing fit that had her eyes watering and Jordan wondering if he’d gone about this in an incredibly stupid way. It wouldn’t be the first time the direct method had failed him.
Still, he was determined to make her see the sense of this. All of those lectures he’d given himself about dressing it up with a little sweet talk flew out the window. He set out to hammer home the logic.
“It’s a perfectly rational decision…” he began.
“You’re not serious,” she said when she could finally speak.
He pulled the jewelry box from his pocket and placed it on the kitchen table in front of her. Since she was eyeing it as if it were a poisonous rattler, he flipped it open to reveal a stunning three-carat diamond that pretty well proclaimed him to be dead serious. Despite its impressive size, it was simpler than the engagement ring he’d purchased at Rexanne’s urging. She’d wanted flashy. Kelly struck him as the kind of woman who would admire simplicity. Gazing into her eyes, however, he had the sinking feeling that admiration for his taste in rings was the last thing on her mind.
“You’ve obviously lost your mind,” she said, but her voice was softer now and laced with something that might have been regret.
“Quite the contrary. It’s the only rational decision for both of us.”
“Rational,” she repeated as if it were a dirty word.
There was an ominous undercurrent he didn’t quite get. “Actually, yes. I’ve given it quite a lot of thought. We’ve known each other forever—there won’t be any nasty surprises. We’ve both had more than our share of those. I can give you the kind of life and financial security you deserve.”
“And I can give you…what? A hostess? A cook, perhaps? A bed partner on cold nights?”
Jordan could feel the blood climbing into his cheeks as she enumerated some of the very thoughts that had occurred to him. They’d sounded better in theory than they did spoken out loud by a woman who was clearly insulted. She wasn’t taking this well at all. He searched for a new approach. “Now, Kelly…”
