Lone Star Millionaire (9 page)

“I don't mind the testing,” he grumbled, “but I'm ready to get a grade already. If I had to pick, I suppose it's better that she's well behaved outside the home.”

Sabrina laughed. “Oh, Lord, you're turning into a parent. Have you been reading those child-rearing books I gave you?”

“I've skimmed a couple. I don't think I agree with everything they say, but it's interesting.” His warm gaze settled on her. “Thanks for all your help, Sabrina. I couldn't have gotten through the last week without you.”

“No problem. It's kinda fun. After all, if she gets really hideous, I can escape back to my own place.” She made the statements lightly, but inside she felt the heavy weight of guilt.

While she was happy to help Cal, she knew she wasn't going to be around as long as he thought she was. So far she'd spoken to a couple of different headhunters, and both of them had felt she wouldn't have any trouble finding work with another company. Between her education and her unique work experience, she was a prize. Sabrina didn't feel very prizelike at the moment, but maybe a job offer or two would change that.

She pushed the guilt aside and reminded herself that she wasn't doing anything wrong. She'd been a good and loyal employee for Cal, but she hadn't signed a lifetime contract.
She needed to make her own way in the world, and that wasn't going to happen while she was with him.

His phone rang and he picked up the receiver. She watched him, the way the afternoon sun brought out the gold highlights in his brown hair. He was so handsome—it wasn't fair. How was she supposed to resist his good looks along with everything else? Life would be a whole lot easier if she could just hate her boss. But she didn't. She liked him…a lot. They were friends and she knew she would miss him when she left.

When he hung up, she glanced at her watch. “I've got to go pick up Anastasia. The movie gets out in twenty minutes and there's going to be traffic.” She rose to her feet and crossed to the door. “Don't use this as an excuse to work late, young man. I'm not your live-in babysitter.”

“Yes, ma'am. I have a couple calls to make, then I'll come straight home.” His grin broadened. “What's for dinner, dear?”

“I'm thinking of a couple of words,” she called over her shoulder as she headed for the door. “They're not polite words. Actually, the second one is fine. It's the first one that's gonna get me in trouble.”

She was still chuckling over their conversation when she pulled up in front of the movie complex. Anastasia was waiting with two other preteens. They all saw her, and Ada's nieces waved. Anastasia said something to them, then walked to the car.

“Hi,” Sabrina said when she climbed in and fastened her seat belt. “How was the movie?”

“Okay, I guess.”

“Ada said you had fun last night.”

Anastasia looked out the window. “Uh-huh.”

“She also ratted you out, kid. So the act isn't going to fly for much longer.”

Anastasia stared at her. “What do you mean she ratted me out? I didn't do anything wrong. I was polite and everything.”

“I know. That's my point. She told me you were a pleasure to be around, well mannered and all the rest. So how come you give us the surly treatment at home?”

Instead of the flip comeback she'd expected, Anastasia turned back to the window and sniffed. “I d-don't know.”

“Yes, you do. We all do. I understand that you're scared, but it's going to be fine. You have to trust that.”

“Who are you?” Anastasia asked. “You work for my dad, but now you're living at his place. But you're not the housekeeper. It's too weird. I don't know you and I don't know him. I miss my parents. I just want things back the way they were before.”

“I know, honey. It's hard.”

A strangled sob caught in her throat. “You don't know.”

Sabrina sighed. “Actually, I do. I was fourteen when my parents were both killed in a car accident. It was the most horrible experience of my life.”

Anastasia looked at her. “Yeah?”

Sabrina nodded. “I would have given anything to have them back. I couldn't figure out what I'd done wrong to make them go away. I mean, I knew it was an accident, but I didn't believe it.”

The preteen wiped at her tears. “I know,” she whispered.

“I had my brother and two sisters to help me get through it. I also had a grandmother, but it was still awful. You've had a difficult year, but now you have a father who very much wants to be a part of your life. He cares about you.”

“He doesn't even know me. How can he care?”

Then Sabrina got it. She wondered why she hadn't seen it before. While Anastasia was fighting the fear of an unfamiliar place and different circumstances, she was also terrified that her new father wouldn't like her. After all she'd been through, she wouldn't survive another rejection in her young life. It was safer to lash out, to create distance so nothing could hurt her ever again.

“You're not making it easy for him, are you?” she asked softly.

“Why should I?”

Good point, Sabrina thought. That was the parent's job, not the child's.

“He's just playing at being a father. He's not interested in me at all.”

Sabrina heard a familiar echo in those words. “That's not you talking,” she said. “That's your aunt.”

Shrug. “Does it matter? It's the truth.”

“No, it's not, but I guess you're going to have to wait and see who's right on that one.”

They were silent for the rest of the drive. Something was going to have to be done, Sabrina thought. Cal and his daughter needed a chance to bond, and it wasn't going to happen under the present circumstances. Cal needed to spend time with the girl, but in such a way that it wasn't forced or too awkward for either of them. And she knew just how to make that happen.

 

“This is getting to be a habit,” Cal said as Sabrina joined him in his study. It was nearly ten and Anastasia was in bed.

Sabrina smiled. “A nice one, I hope.” She poured them each a brandy and sat in the chair across from his desk.

“Very nice.” He took a sip of the drink. It
was
nice. He enjoyed having her in his house. He liked the close contact, finding her in the kitchen first thing in the morning, the way she insisted on taking her own car to the office because she would need it to pick up Anastasia. He liked talking with her about his concerns, listening to her opinion—she had one on everything—watching her absently touch his daughter's hair or shoulder in an unconscious gesture of affection.

Nights were the best…and the worst. He couldn't stop thinking about her at night. He looked forward to the moment
she would walk into the study and take a seat. He liked looking at her in the subtle light. He enjoyed watching her relax, kick off her shoes and slump down in the chair. Sometimes, if he wasn't careful, his mind took the image further. To her slowly peeling off her blouse and letting it fall to the floor, followed by her bra. He pictured her bare breasts, the peach-colored tips pouting at him as they puckered. He thought about himself circling the desk and pulling her close, kissing her, holding her, running his hands all over her back and shoulders before finally—

“A penny for your thoughts,” she said. “You're a million miles away.”

He shifted uncomfortably as he realized he was rock hard. Thank God the desk was between them. “Not that far,” he told her. “And definitely not worth a penny.”

“If you say so.” She slumped down in her chair. “I had an interesting talk with Anastasia when I picked her up from the movies. Apparently her aunt said that you were just playing at being a father and Anastasia is afraid that's true. She's not willing to give you the benefit of the doubt because she can't afford to be wrong. If she starts to care about you, then loses you, she won't be able to recover. The girl has no emotional reserves.”

Cal listened to the words and shook his head. “Great. It makes sense, but how do I change that? She's barely civil to me, let alone pleasant. I don't know what to say to her or what to do with her.” He ran his hand through his hair. There was nothing like a little emotional inadequacy to take care of a man's libido. The last lingering physical traces of desire faded.

Anastasia was smart to be wary of him. He didn't know the first thing about parenting and he was bound to screw it all up. “Maybe I should have made other arrangements for her,” he muttered. “Sent her to people who know what they're doing.”

“Don't even think that,” Sabrina told him. “You're her father and you want to care about her. All the expertise in the
world can't take the place of that. Give it time, Cal. It's barely been a week. You two will figure out how to be a family. I've been thinking about this, and one of the problems is location.”

He glanced around the study. “You don't like my condo?”

“No. It's fine. The problem is that it's summer break, and she doesn't have any friends or ways to fill her time. You've got work, I have my own life. So no one is a hundred percent focused on the problem. I suggest a vacation. The three of us go away, maybe for a month or so, and you two spend some time getting to know each other.”

As long as Sabrina was going to be there to keep him from making too big a mistake, he was in favor of the idea. “Where would you like to go?”

“Maybe the beach.”

“Corpus Christi is a great idea. I know a couple—”

Sabrina covered her face with her hands and groaned. “Not there, Cal. It's still the gulf and really hot. Let's go somewhere nice and cool. I was thinking of Balboa Island in Southern California. It's a little crowded, but fun. There's lots to do and it's not like a steam bath.”

He chuckled. “You still haven't adjusted to the Texas summers, have you?”

“No, and I don't want to adjust. Come on. A month on the California shore. Balboa would be fun. There's boating and the beach. We could go in-line skating. Disneyland is about thirty minutes away. Some of the restaurants in Newport are fabulous, and there is the most amazing mall.”

“Oh, well, a mall. You've convinced me.”

She smiled at him. “Is that a yes?”

He could deny her nothing, he realized with some amazement. At that moment, he would have given his soul to make Sabrina happy. What was happening to him?

“Cal? Say yes.”

“Yes,” he told her, because he didn't have a choice.

T
he sun had set a couple of hours before, but it wasn't completely dark down by the beach. There were lights from other houses, the streets and the docks, not to mention the glow from the amusement area on the peninsula.

Sabrina settled back in her chair and sighed. “This is how the good Lord intended life to be,” she said. “The water, the stars, the cool night air.” She glanced at her boss. “Cool air. You remember that, Cal, don't you? I realize it's been about four months since summer started in Houston, but we did have those three days of spring. It was cool then.”

“I get enough sass from my daughter,” he said. “I don't need to hear it from you, too.”

“Sure you do. It keeps you in touch with the little people.”

His response was a grunt, a surefire signal he wanted the subject changed. Sabrina chuckled. At this point, she was so happy to be back in California and on the beach, she would have agreed to almost anything.

They sat in silence for a while. Faint music drifted to them from one of their neighbors. There was the sound of laughter and conversation.

“They must be having a party,” Cal said, motioning to his left.

“Probably. Maybe next time they'll invite us.”

Cal stretched out his long legs and reached for his can of soda on the plastic table beside his chair. “It's not what I thought,” he admitted. “But I like it.”

Property was a premium on Balboa Island, and the houses pressed up against each other. They were mostly long, narrow structures, two stories, many with apartments in back or on the second floor. Sabrina had rented a three-bedroom single family house right on the water. Their front patio opened onto the boardwalk, with the boats and the water beyond.

Anastasia was already in bed. Sabrina found herself wishing they'd left on a light in the living room so it wasn't so cozy on the patio. She wanted to inch her chair away from her boss, or maybe jump up and go for a walk. Without warning, her muscles got all twitchy and she felt as if her skin was two sizes too small.

It was the close confines of the house, it was traveling together, it was the sea air and it was the man himself. He got to her. With his good looks and his easy smile. That damn Texas drawl. Why couldn't he be a troll, or at least have a few really annoying personal habits? In the regulated world of work she found it easy to confine herself to business, but here, like this, it was too much like a real vacation, which meant her guard kept slipping. If she didn't watch her step, she was going to do something really stupid, like notice her boss was a single guy and very appealing.

She ducked her head to hide the smile. Okay, so she'd already noticed. Noticed and admired and wanted. She bit back a curse, she who rarely swore.

If she was just lusting after his body, she wouldn't be so worried. That sort of need was usually hormonal and would pass quickly. But she liked Cal. She enjoyed being around him, and sometimes she even admired him. So she was in really big trouble. This was why she'd never wanted to move into his condo. The longer they were in close proximity, the more she was at personal risk.

“This is always what I've shied away from,” he said, his voice low and quiet in the night.

Her heart gave a start and she turned to look at him. Had he been reading her mind? “W-what are you talking about?” Had she accidentally said something she shouldn't or had he guessed or had—

“Commitment to something important.” He angled toward her. “I'm not talking about business, of course. I mean personally. The idea of settling down with someone, having a family. I wanted to, but I figured I could avoid it for a lot longer. Now it's found me.”

“Anastasia.” Of course. He was talking about his daughter. She wasn't sure whether to be disappointed or relieved.

“I like her,” he said, sounding surprised. “She has a real attitude, but there's something about her. When she's not trying so hard to be difficult, she's fun.”

“I know what you mean. Today was pleasant.” They'd spent the afternoon on the peninsula, going on the amusement rides and window shopping.

Cal chuckled. “She would rather walk through fire than admit it, but I think she was impressed about flying first class. Last time she'd been too scared and tired to notice, but on this flight, she got into it.”

“She's certainly a Langtry,” Sabrina agreed.

Cal leaned toward her and tugged on a lock of hair. “I'm going to ignore that,” he told her. “I know you meant it in the nicest possible way.”

“Oh, of course.”

His humor faded and he leaned back in his chair. “She scares me. I've been looking in on her while she sleeps, and I get this knot of fear right in the center of my chest. What if I can't do it? What if I don't know how? Wanting to have a family someday in the future isn't any kind of preparation for having a twelve-year-old thrust into my life. What if I mess her up?”

His questions came from the heart. Sabrina felt the last of her defenses slipping away. This was the Cal she couldn't resist. The playboy millionaire was fun in his own way, but the genuine man had a line directly to her heart.

“You won't because you care,” she said.

“How many horrible acts have been initiated in the name of good intentions?”

“Now you're being dramatic. Despite your preference for trophy girlfriends, you're a pretty decent guy. You don't lie, cheat or steal, you are faithful to your girlfriends, for the time you keep them around. You have the makings of a quality human being. Anastasia can see that, too. She makes trouble, but she knows you're interested in her welfare. You two are already learning about each other, but it takes time to forge a relationship. It's not instant. Give yourself, and her, a break.”

“Easy for you to say,” he grumbled. “You have experience with this. You helped your grandmother raise your younger siblings.”

“You were a kid once, too. Think back to that.”

He looked up at the sky. “I'd rather not. Tracey used to tell her friends we'd been raised by wolves. Unfortunately these were human wolves. The animal kind probably would have done a better job.”

Sabrina thought about what she knew of his childhood and shuddered. Being rich might be nice sometimes, but all the toys in the world didn't make up for parental neglect. “You turned out all right.”

“Tracey didn't. She's nearly forty and she's dating boys half her age.” He raised a hand. “I know, I know, it's a double standard. I suppose I shouldn't mind or be critical. If I thought they cared about her, it would be one thing, but they're all after money. We are a poor excuse for a family. I want more for Anastasia.”

“You're giving her more. You're spending time with her and getting to know her. That's important.”

“And I've got you. My ace in the hole.” He rose to his feet, then bent over her chair. “Thanks.”

He brushed a kiss across her forehead, straightened and walked into the house. Sabrina sat immobile for several seconds as she willed her heart rate to return to normal.

Cal had just kissed her. It didn't mean anything more than a friendly moment between people who'd been through a lot together. She knew that in her head. But in her heart, and other places slightly more interesting, she didn't want to believe it. She wanted to think that it meant something. She wanted him to be feeling the same heat, the same growing desire flickering through his body.

Close proximity, a charming man whom she genuinely liked and way too many years of celibacy. It was not a good combination. If she wasn't careful, she was going to end up doing something incredibly stupid and then where would she be?

 

Cal strolled through the kitchen into the living room. Anastasia lay stretched out on the floor, watching television. A series of tall, slender models paraded across runways while rock music blared.

He crouched down next to his daughter. “What are you watching?”

“It's a show about the fashion industry. You know, what's going to be hot for fall, that kind of stuff.” She pushed her glasses up her nose. “You wouldn't like it.”

He settled next to her on the floor. A large area rug covered the bleached hardwood. After grabbing a cushion from the sofa, he shoved it under his head and prepared to get comfortable.

“How do you know?” he asked. “I might enjoy fashion. So what is hot for fall?”

She rolled her eyes. “You like those detective shows, or the business reports. This is only on another half hour, then you can change it.”

“That's okay. I want to watch this with you. We can bond.”

On their trip to the grocery store, he'd picked up a couple of parenting magazines. He needed the information to get the jump start he needed to catch up on this parenting stuff. It was harder than he'd thought. One of the articles had mentioned parent-child bonding, using television as a neutral medium.

He pointed at the screen. “That dress is nice.”

The garment in question was long and black, with very little top and, when the model turned, almost no back. “Well, not for you,” he amended.

Anastasia rose to her feet. They'd spent most of the three days they'd been in California outdoors. Despite the sunscreen Sabrina had insisted they all wear, his daughter was getting a faint tan. She'd gained a little weight and her face had lost its pinched look.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked. “I don't want to bond with you. Watch your own stuff and leave me alone.”

The sharp anger in her voice shocked him. In the past couple of days, they'd actually been getting along. What had happened to change that? “Anastasia,” he said, his tone warning.

“What? What are you going to do to me?”

“Anastasia, I—” A thought distracted him. He sat up and looked at her. “Who named you? Was it Janice or your adoptive parents?”

“My
mother,
” she said, emphasizing the last word. “My real mother. Not Janice.”

“Was it a family name? It seems a little old-fashioned.”

“You want to talk about
my
name?” she asked. “You're Calhoun Jefferson Langtry and you think my name is funny?”

He realized he'd hit a nerve. “It's not funny. I think it's very pretty, if a little unusual.”

“I don't care what you think.” Her hands curled into fists and her eyes filled with tears. “I don't care about you at all because you never cared about me. Why didn't you use birth control? Why didn't you check on Janice? Why did you just go off and leave her? She
died!
” Her voice rose. “She died and I was all alone and no one cared about me. You're supposed to be my father. You're supposed to care, and you didn't even bother to find out the truth. You should have come for me.”

She seemed to fold in on herself. Her shoulders hunched forward and her face scrunched up.

“Anastasia.”

But he was too late. She turned to the stairs and raced up. Seconds later he heard her bedroom door slam shut.

Cal rose to his feet and stared after her. What had happened? He'd come in to join her while she watched television. Instead of sharing some quiet time together, he'd obviously hurt her terribly and sent her from the room in tears.

“You okay?”

He turned and saw Sabrina standing in the doorway. “I'm the wrong person to ask.” He pointed to the ceiling. “She's the one crying.”

“I don't know. You look a little shell-shocked to me.”

Cal sank onto the sofa. “What the hell happened? One minute we were discussing TV shows and the next—” He shook his head. “I'm the last person in the world to be raising a kid.”

“For what it's worth, I think you did the right thing.”

Then why did he have a knot in his gut and a cold, ugly
feeling that he was destined to hurt the child he only wanted to love? “About what?” he asked.

“You didn't tell her the truth about Janice. She told you she was on the pill, didn't she?”

“Yeah, but that's not something I felt I should share with a twelve-year-old. Anastasia's right. I should have checked. Somehow. I should have done a lot of things differently.”

The problem was, he could be as logical as he wanted. Janice had lied. That wasn't his fault. He'd tried to get in touch with her, but she hadn't wanted him to find her. He had excuses for all of his daughter's accusations, save one—that he should have known about her. He bought into that theory, too. Even now he found it hard to believe that he'd had a child and never once sensed her presence in the world. He
should
have known. If he was any kind of father, he would have known.

“You're beating yourself up for being human,” Sabrina said. “For what it's worth, I think that's a waste of time. You can't change that, and you can't erase the past. Today is what's important.”

“Explain that to her,” he said, jerking his head toward the ceiling.

“Oh, I intend to.”

Sabrina left the room. She wished there was more she could say to Cal. His obvious concern and pain touched her. She wanted to find the right words to make it all better. Unfortunately only time would allow him and Anastasia to form a relationship. That and maybe a firm dose of reality.

She walked into Anastasia's room without knocking. The girl was curled up on the bed, her back to the door. She clutched her teddy bear against her chest.

“For one kid, you sure put out a lot of water,” Sabrina said lightly as she sat next to the preteen and pulled her into her arms.

Anastasia came willingly. Sabrina stroked her hair and rocked back and forth. “I know,” she murmured. “I know
how it feels, and before you snap at me and say that I don't, I'm going to remind you that I lost my parents, too. Remember? I know this is painful and scary. The most scary part is that you're starting to like him and you don't want to. After all, what if he changes his mind and sends you to the state home? Or what if he dies, too?”