Free And Babies Make Four by Ruth Owen Page A

mountains by late afternoon.”
    “Fine.”
I shouldn’t be thinking about him this way. I hardly know him. He’s a stranger. Okay, a stranger I kissed
 …
    Donovan glanced her way, lifting his eyebrow in a cynical challenge. “Are you planning to talk in one-word sentences from now on, sweetheart?”
    Noel met the challenge in his eyes with one of her own. “Maybe.”
    He turned back to the road, but not before she caught the ghost of a genuine smile on his lips. She swallowed, feeling another section of her newly constructed defenses crumble to dust. It wasn’t fair—a scoundrel like Donovan shouldn’t have had a smile that promised forever. Or a kiss …
    “Why did you come to St. Michelle?” she asked suddenly, surprised at how much she wanted to know the answer.
    Donovan grinned again, but this time there was no warmth in his smile. “Because I had nowhere else to go. Now it’s my turn.”
    “Turn?”
    “To ask a question.”
    Noel stiffened. She was an intensely private person,a holdover from her youth when she’d been reprimanded for her “unseemly curiosity.” Divulging personal secrets was major surgery for her, but her sense of fair play stopped her from declining. She did owe him a question. One. “Okay, what do you want to know?”
    Where do I start? Donovan wondered. Just being near the lady set off an avalanche of questions in his mind. Why did she keep a “body by Hefner” hidden underneath yards of old-lady blouses and shapeless skirts? Why did she keep a sweet smile and generous nature hidden beneath a sour-apple frown? And why had she given him a kiss that was the closest thing to paradise this side of heaven?
    He wasn’t a romantic kind of guy—life had laid to rest that part of his nature a long time ago. But when he’d kissed her his mind had flooded with sappy, stupid, Beaver Cleaver images of white picket fences, Little League practices, minivans, and microwaves. Ridiculous, considering his background. They had less in common than champagne and raw whiskey—and he’d learned from experience the two didn’t mix. Women like her looked at a guy’s bank balance before they gave him the time of day. He didn’t even have a checking account.
    Unfortunately, that didn’t stop him from wanting her like he wanted his next breath.…
    “So who’s the guy?” he asked harshly.
    His question ripped through the silent night like a bullet, startling her. “What guy?”
    “The one you talked about in the church. Youdidn’t seem to like him much. What’s the matter, sweetheart? Man problems?”
    “No, not that.” Her face revealed a wince of unexpected pain. “The ‘guy’ was my father. He deserted me and my mother when I was seven.”
    Lord. “I’m sorry, Noel. If I’d known I wouldn’t … look, I’m sorry I asked.”
    “It’s all right.” She looked down and began to finger the iridescent material of her dress. “I got over it a long time ago.”
    Like hell. She was twisting that material so tight, he was surprised it didn’t cry out in pain. But even if she’d been still as a dead calm sea he’d have known she was hurting. Scars like that never healed, not completely. You lived with them, but you never got over them. “My old man took off, too.”
    “He did?”
    Sam nodded. “After he left, my mom wasn’t too crazy about having me around, so she farmed me out with relatives. But I got lucky, because I ended up with Uncle Gus.”
    Noel stopped worrying the dress material. She settled back in the passenger seat, watching him intently. “Tell me about him.”
    Donovan shrugged. “Not much to tell. He was my mother’s uncle. We lived on a boat that went from port to port along the Gulf. He was registered as a shrimper, but we never caught much shrimp. He ran craps games on the deck, and moved on when things got too hot. He was a con man to the core, and could talk a man out of his last buck and leave him smiling—buthe never chose a mark who didn’t