Free Twins times two! by Lisa Bingham

made cookies? A lot of women made cookies. So what if her house was inviting and her children adoring and his own twins curious. That didn't mean that he should be thinking of Cara in terms of...
    A wife?
    He groaned, raking his hands through his hair. He needed a vacation or some time off.
    But the situation that had developed didn't allow for such luxuries. He needed a solution to the problem, and he needed one now.
    But marriage?
    No. It was out of the question. Absolutely out of the question. He'd been married and he'd loved every minute of it. A man didn't get that kind of luck twice in a lifetime. He and Nancy had been a love match. They'd known each other for years. He was a one-woman man even beyond the grave. Until Cara, he hadn't even been tempted to date again.
    Until Cara.
    What was it about this woman that she seemed to have a hold over him that went far beyond the dilemma with the children? All totaled, he'd been with her for only a few hours and he was already contemplating...
    Marriage?

    No. It was preposterous. It was completely unreasonable. It was...
    Such a simple solution that it was almost scary.
    No. A person didn't get married just to sort out custody.
    Or did they?
    Cara would never go for it. She didn't know anything about him.
    But she loved her children and would probably do anything to ensure their health and happiness.
    That didn't mean she would marry a person like him—a person who was contemplating such a cold, practical marriage of convenience for his own children's sake.
    Or would she?

    Chapter Six
    Cara didn't hear a word from Ross Gifford for two full days. By that time she was pacing the confines of her house. She couldn't eat or sleep. She kept circling the telephone, worried that Ross would never call, then fearing that he would.
    The children sensed that something was wrong—which meant that they sought her attention as a way to reassure themselves that she wasn't angry with them. Unfortunately, their methods of seeking attention usually involved getting into trouble. Heidi had tried to flush her shoes down the toilet; Zoe had eaten paint. They'd both colored on the walls with their crayons, left a bag of pop-sicles to melt in the middle of the kitchen floor and given the neighbor's cat a haircut. Cara had never been so exhausted in her whole life. Emotionally and physically.

    Cara's only jaunt out of the house had been to consult with her lawyer, but he'd been unable to offer her any real comfort. Her adoption hadn't been finalized, so her legal position in the twins' lives wasn't as strong as he would like. He would have to make inquiries, research legal precedents, yada, yada, yada. Cara hadn't been able to concentrate on a word after the phrase "Without the adoption being completed, your role as legal guardian isn't as strong as I would like."
    Through it all Cara's nerves stretched thinner and thinner. So when she woke up one morning to find three local camera crews and a network anchorman camped out on her front doorstep, the fragile grip on her emotions snapped.
    Grasping the phone, she punched in the numbers to Ross's house—making the very call that she had attempted a half dozen times, then aborted.
    "Good morning, this is the Gifford residence, Stibbs speaking."
    "Put Ross Gifford on the phone. Right this minute!"
    She didn't know if it was the frantic edge to her tone or the fact that Stibbs recognized her voice, but a silence was soon followed by "Ross here."
    "This is Cara. I want you at my house. Now."
    Not giving him a chance to respond, she hung up the phone and quickly moved from window to

    window, pulling blinds and drawing the curtains closed.
    "Mommy, what's wrong?"
    Heidi stood in the doorway, rubbing her eyes, her arms wrapped around her favorite stuffed rabbit.
    Cara tried to smile reassuringly, but her lips felt stiff. "Nothing's wrong, sweetie. What's got you out of bed so early?"
    "There's a man at my window."
    It took a moment for the words to sink