Harlequin Romance March 2021 Box Set Cara Colter (the mitten read aloud TXT) 📖

long as she could recall it had only been her and her mother. But they hadn’t been alone in the world, as her mother had always claimed. She’d had a grandmother.

Her hands clenched and unclenched. She couldn’t lie to herself. Her mother would have a good reason for keeping it from her. She suspected there’d be a price to pay for sating her curiosity. But also a prize to be won! And she couldn’t forget that tracing her family tree would give her the chance to win an amazing job—one that would have Dominic grinding his teeth in envy and frustration.

She thrust out her jaw, resolve setting like concrete in her chest. Getting a new job, getting her life back on track and feeling in control again was her number one priority. She wasn’t walking away now.

As for her inheritance and the money—she could make a decision about that at a later date.

She blinked herself back into the present to find herself staring at broad shoulders, lean hips and grey eyes that had turned as bleak as the mist her plane had flown through on its descent into New York.

In spite of what Frances had or hadn’t done to Callie’s mother, Owen had loved the older woman and he missed her. Her chest burned. She was intruding on that grief and taking away his sole source of comfort. She wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery, but not at the expense of other people.

‘You know what, Owen? I really appreciate everything you’ve done, but I think I should find a nearby B&B. Maybe you’d be kind enough to suggest somewhere suitable and—?’

‘What on earth are you talking about?’

She planted her hands on her hips. She stared at his strong thighs and her mouth went dry. Don’t stare.

‘And…uh…maybe you could hold the key for me until I’m ready to go through Frances’s things?’ His eyes narrowed, and she swallowed. ‘Also, while I think of it, maybe there are a couple of Frances’s things you’d like for yourself—for sentimental reasons. You should give it some thought and—’

‘No, Callie.’

His face had cleared and he shook his head, his tone a strange combination of gentleness and implacability.

She blinked. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I’m not letting you do that.’

She puffed herself up, doing her best to feign offence. ‘What do you mean letting me? It’s my decision. The thing is, I’m sure I’ll be much happier in a B&B.’

Beneath the soft wool of his jumper, his shoulders flexed. ‘I know what you’re doing, and I’d rather you didn’t. Your grandmother would wish you to stay here. She certainly wouldn’t want me coming here to wallow and be morose.’

‘But—’

‘It’s time for me to move on. Now that you’re in New York, I won’t be coming here again without an invitation.’

‘Fine! But you don’t have to move on right this minute, you know? You can take your time and—’

He took her hands and squeezed, his smile warming his eyes. Her heart pressed hard against her lungs, making it difficult to catch her breath.

‘Callie, I appreciate the thought. I really do. But it’s totally unnecessary. This is just a place, and these are just things. I have my memories. That’s enough.’

Her shoulders sagged, but some of the guilt lifted. ‘If you’re sure…?’

‘Positive.’

He scanned her face and then nodded, as if satisfied with what he saw, but for a fraction of a moment his gaze lingered and the moment lengthened and slowed. She felt as if she were being tugged towards something unknown…something that promised richness and depth and meaning.

But then he blinked and dropped her hands, stepping back so quickly that instead of drifting along on a warm current she found herself having to plant her legs to keep her balance.

‘Is there anything else I can do for you?’

His words emerged clipped and terse, and she automatically shook her head and pulled herself into straight lines.

‘No, thank you. I don’t need anything else.’

Drifting along on a warm current…? Had they been making eyes at each other? Surely not!

He glanced away, the muscles in his jaw bunching. ‘I should take you out to dinner tonight…’

Except he didn’t want to. That much was obvious. And she wasn’t a damn charity case.

‘No, you really shouldn’t. Thanks for the thought, but no. It’s been a hell of a day and jet-lag is catching up with me. I just want some quiet time to process everything that’s happened.’

As she spoke, she moved towards the door, hoping he’d follow and leave. The absolute last thing she needed in her life was another complicated man.

‘A quiet night in is exactly what the doctor ordered. I have your card. Why don’t I give you a call sometime in the next couple of days and we can catch up over a coffee or something?’

Given his earlier desire to leave, he was now moving with studied reluctance. At the last moment he diverted to the kitchen, held up the apartment key, and set it on the counter.

She nodded her thanks. ‘Like I said earlier, I appreciate all your help today.’

‘It was nothing.’

They stood there for a moment in agonising awkwardness. What was the correct way to say goodbye to him? Kissing his cheek would be far too familiar, and yet shaking his hand felt too formal and wrong.

Eventually he nodded. ‘Take care, Callie. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.’

‘Thanks.’ She dug out a smile and offered a dumb little wave. ‘See you.’

He turned and set off down the stairs and she closed the door, leaning back against it and blowing out a breath.

Even with their misunderstanding cleared up, she and Owen mixed like oil and water. It might be wise to spend as little time in each other’s company as possible.

* * *

The sixteen-hour time difference between Sydney and New York didn’t make for a restful night’s sleep, even given Callie’s exhaustion. At three a.m. she woke, ravenous enough for a three-course meal, but forced herself to remain where she was. She didn’t fall back