Free Shelter in a Soldier's Arms by Susan Mallery Page A

Jeff’s study. Her sudden attraction to him hadn’t gone away over dinner. The only thing she could figure was that she’d been so sick when she’d first met him that she hadn’t noticed the appeal of the man or her own weakness where he was concerned. Now that the virus was under control, she was able to feel the pull. Which made for a great science experiment, but didn’t help her current situation: how to get through a conversation with him and not act like an idiot.
    Practice, she thought desperately. Maybe this was a case of practice making perfect. That decided, or at least hoped for, she tapped on Jeff’s open door and walked into his study.
    The room was large, with beautiful bookcases on two walls and a bay window on the third wall, overlooking the garden. His wood desk was big enough to double as an extra bed, and two leather club chairs faced the imposing barrier.
    Jeff looked up as she entered. He was still wearing his suit, although he’d taken off the jacket and loosened his tie. A few strands of hair fell across his forehead. They should have softened his appearance, but he was as formidable as always.
    “Have a seat,” he said, motioning to one of the empty club chairs.
    She sank into the dark brown leather seat and tried to relax. She had an agenda and a purpose. She would do well to remember both and not think about how his gray eyes made her think of the sea during a storm or the way his long, strong fingers had looked as he briefly touched her daughter’s hair. She wasn’t sure if he was a kind man, but he was capable of kind acts. Did that make him any safer for her?
    “You’ve been very good to us,” she said, plunging in when it became apparent he wasn’t going to speak first, which made sense—she’d been the one to request the meeting. “Putting us up, arranging for Maggie to get to school. It’s not that I’m not grateful, it’s just that there are some things I need to do myself.”
    He rose. “Are you taking any medication?”
    She blinked at him. “What?”
    “Are you taking anything for the flu? I was going to offer you a brandy.”
    “Oh. No. I’m feeling much better. A brandy would be nice.”
    It would also give her something to hold so she wouldn’t have to worry about her fingers twisting together the way they were now.
    He opened the doors of a cabinet built into one of the bookcases and withdrew a bottle of brandy along with two glasses.
    “Go on with what you were saying. You need to be responsible for some things yourself. Can you be more specific?”
    As he spoke, he poured, then handed her a glass. She took it, careful to keep her fingers from touching his. “Thanks. I was talking about the babysitter. When she dropped off Maggie she wouldn’t let me pay her. That’s not right.”
    He poured his own drink, then settled on a corner of the desk. Which meant he was closer to her than he’d been before. Which meant her heart had jumped into her throat, making it impossible to breathe or swallow.
    “You have a point,” he said.
    “I do?”
    He nodded.
    She forced herself to be calm. Slowly she found herself breathing again. She even managed to take a tiny sip of the brandy. It was hot and wonderful as it burned its way down to her stomach.
    “I didn’t mean to take over your life,” he said. “I’ll give you an invoice for the babysitting expenses to date and you can reimburse me.”
    “I, ah, thank you,” she said, surprised he’d seen her side so easily. She also wondered how many times she’d thanked the man since meeting him.
    “Anything else?”
    As in, did she want to talk about anything else, she supposed. She studied him, thinking that despite the beautiful home and the successful business, he was incredibly alone. Before she and Maggie arrived, there hadn’t even been any food in the house. She sensed he lived for work and little else and found herself wondering why.
    Of course there could be women, she reminded herself. Maybe it was her