Here Comes Trouble by Debbie Macomber

Author:Debbie Macomber [Macomber, Debbie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781488025327
Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises Limited
Published: 1991-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

“A wife,” Nolan echoed. His dark eyes widened in undisguised horror. It was as if Maryanne had suggested he climb to the roof of the apartment building and leap off.

“Don’t get so excited. I wasn’t volunteering for the position.”

With his index finger pointing at her like the barrel of a shotgun, Nolan walked around the kitchen table again, his journey made in shuffling impatient steps. He circled the table twice before he spoke.

“You cleaned my home, washed my clothes and now you’re cooking my dinner.” Each word came at her like an accusation.

“Yes?”

“You can’t possibly look at me with those baby-blues of yours and expect me to believe—”

“Believe what?”

“That you’re not applying for the job. From the moment we met, you’ve been doing all these…these sweet girlie things to entice me.”

“Sweet girlie things?” Maryanne repeated, struggling to contain her amusement. “I don’t think I understand.”

“I don’t expect you to admit it.”

“I haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talking about.”

“You know,” he accused her with an angry shrug.

“Obviously I don’t. What could I possibly have done to make you think I’m trying to entice you?”

“Sweet girlie things,” he said again, but without the same conviction. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment while he mulled the matter over. “All right, I’ll give you an example—that perfume you’re always wearing.”

“Windchime? It’s a light fragrance.”

“I don’t know the name of it. But it hangs around for an hour or so after you’ve left the room. You know that, and yet you wear it every time we’re together.”

“I’ve worn Windchime for years.”

“That’s not all,” he continued quickly. “It’s the way I catch you looking at me sometimes.”

“Looking at you?” She folded her arms at her waist and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.

“Yes,” he said, sounding even more peevish. He pressed his hand to his hip, cocked his chin at a regal angle and fluttered his eyelashes like fans.

Despite her effort to hold in her amusement, Maryanne laughed. “I can only assume that you’re joking.”

Nolan dropped his hand from his hip. “I’m not. You get this innocent look and your lips pout just so… Why, a man—any man—couldn’t keep from wanting to kiss you.”

“That’s preposterous.” But Maryanne instinctively pinched her lips together and closed her eyes.

Nolan’s arm shot out. “That’s another thing.”

“What now?”

“The way you get this helpless flustered look and it’s all a simpleminded male can do not to rush in and offer to take care of whatever’s bothering you.”

“By this time you should know I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” Maryanne felt obliged to remind him.

“You’re a lamb among wolves,” Nolan said. “I don’t know how long you intend to play out this silly charade, but personally I think you’ve overdone it. This isn’t your world, and the sooner you go back where you belong, the better.”

“Better for whom?”

“Me!” he cried vehemently. “And for you,” he added with less fervor, as though it was an afterthought. He coughed a couple of times and reached for a package of cough drops in the pocket of his plaid robe.

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