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A Very...Pregnant New Year's. Doreen Roberts
Читать онлайн.Название A Very...Pregnant New Year's
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781472076175
Автор произведения Doreen Roberts
Жанр Ужасы и Мистика
Серия Mills & Boon Vintage Intrigue
Издательство HarperCollins
Anne didn’t need to look at the man she’d collided with to recognize him. She’d have known that deep, mocking voice anywhere.
“Are you always this clumsy, Annie Parker, or is this just your way of getting my attention?”
Anne gritted her teeth. It seemed she was destined to spend her life crashing into Brad Irving.
Chapter 1
Embarrassed, Anne retrieved her purse from the two grinning young women, then turned to face the man who seemed determined to make a fool of her.
He towered over her, like some awful instance of déjà vu, with just a hint of amusement in his expression. His hair looked darker than she remembered—more gold than yellow—and curled almost to his collar.
Determined not to let him destroy her composure, she decided that to attack was her best defense. “Well, if it isn’t the delinquent,” she murmured. “I’m surprised to see you. I would have thought a town like Grand Springs would have cramped your style by now.”
“Ah, that’s just where you’re wrong. Grand Springs still holds plenty of opportunities for an enterprising young man or woman with ambition.”
“So I heard,” Anne said dryly.
He gave her an audacious grin. Against her will, she noticed how well his creamy white sweater emphasized his broad shoulders, and how closely his black wool slacks skimmed his hips in a perfect fit. Brad Irving had grown up. And he was still drop-dead gorgeous. No wonder the women were falling all over him. If she’d known he was going to be at the lodge, she told herself fiercely, she definitely would have stayed at home.
“Rumor has it that you’re thinking about coming back here to live,” Brad said casually. “Big city life got to be too much for you?”
She shrugged, wondering how much he’d heard on the small town grapevine. “Something like that.”
“You’ll find the town has grown quite a bit since you left. Let me know if you need some pointers on the hot spots. I’m always available for advice and assistance.”
Annoyed at the way her pulse had jumped, Anne said cooly, “Thanks. I’m sure you’re an expert on the subject but I’m not interested in the nightlife of Grand Springs right now.”
She didn’t like the gleam in his eye when he answered her. “I was talking about apartments, places of business, that kind of thing.”
Again, he’d managed to make her feel foolish. “I think I can find my way around.”
“Well, the offer’s always there.”
She wasn’t about to be added to his list of conquests, she vowed silently. “I’m sure you have better things to do than entertain a Parker. Unless you’re figuring on starting World War III.”
He shook his head. “I decided a long time ago to stay neutral as far as the Irving versus Parker feud is concerned. All that pent-up hostility and backstabbing takes up too much energy.”
She suspected he was making fun of her family, but wasn’t sure enough to call him on it. Anxious to escape the magnetism of that killer smile, she said cooly, “Well, I have to run.” Good manners nudged her to say something conventional, such as how nice it was to see him again. She smothered the urge and turned to leave, just as the clatter of high heels echoed across the spacious dark-paneled lobby.
“Really, Brad,” a husky voice exclaimed, “can’t you find something better to do than hang around the lobby all evening?”
Brad’s face seemed to close up. “I was just on my way in to dinner, Mother.”
With a great deal of reluctance, Anne paused to acknowledge the woman standing behind her.
Darlene Irving was not a tall woman, but what she lacked in height she made up for in flamboyance. Taste had never been one of Darlene’s attributes. Her long, tight black skirt was slit up to her thigh, and she’d teamed it with a low-cut red halter top that revealed more of her uplifted bosom than Anne cared to see. Obviously Darlene had not lost her fondness for exploiting her generous figure. Her bleached platinum hair was drawn back in a tight knot at the back of her head, which displayed her cheekbones but emphasized the deep wrinkles in her neck.
Darlene looked like an aging hooker, Anne thought, and immediately chastised herself. “Good evening, Mrs. Irving,” she murmured, wishing she’d simply pretended not to notice the woman.
Darlene patted her immaculate hair, allowing Anne to see the flash of light explode from the large square-cut diamond on her right hand. “Oh, it’s you, Annie.”
Anne pursed her lips. “I prefer to be called Anne.”
“Really.” Darlene looked momentarily taken aback, but instantly recovered. “I heard all about your unfortunate experience, you poor dear. Fancy being dumped practically at the altar like that. Must have been devastating for you. Men can be such arrogant beasts. I suppose some people might say it was poetic justice, considering what happened to poor Henry Irving, but of course I wouldn’t dream of making such an assumption.”
“Mother—”
Brad’s muttered protest was ignored as Darlene rushed on. “One has to be so careful whom they trust in a big city. So many weirdos. And all that pollution! Such an aging effect on one. You look positively worn out, Annie. I heard you were painting office buildings now.”
Anne placed a smile on her face. At least Brad had the decency to look uncomfortable, she noticed. Wondering why she was bothering to defend herself against this obnoxious woman, she said deliberately, “Not painting. Designing. I’m an architect.”
“Really.” Darlene looked as if she’d just smelled something bad. “How terribly quaint.” She reached out a manicured hand and patted Brad on the shoulder. “You hear that, Brad? An architect. It’s really amazing what they allow women to do nowadays.” She gave Anne the kind of look a cat gives when it’s brought home a dead mouse. “Brad’s law firm is doing very well, you know.”
Brad shrugged, looking embarrassed, as well he might.
“Well, good for him.” Anne kept her icy gaze on Darlene’s face. “You must be so proud of him.”
“I am. He’s been such a comfort since poor Wally died.”
Remembering her manners, Anne swallowed her temper and said quietly, “I’m so sorry to hear about the loss of your husband. It must be very hard for you.”
Darlene sighed. “Yes, it is. One tends to lean on family at times like these.”
“Speaking of which,” Anne said, grasping the opportunity, “I’m supposed to be at the dinner table right now with my family.”
Darlene’s heavily painted face took on a look of dismay. “Your family is here, too?”
“The entire family,” Anne assured her with ill-concealed satisfaction. “My parents, my brother and sisters, as well as my grandfather are all here to celebrate the new year.”
“Good heavens,” Darlene murmured. “The whole clan. I had no idea.” She turned to her son, her oversized, gold earrings swinging an inch or two above her shoulders. “Well, Brad darling, I suppose we shall just have to make the best of it. No doubt we’ll be falling over Parkers all weekend.”
Anne had finally had enough. With a muttered “Excuse me,” she turned her back on them and headed for the dining room. Revolting woman, she thought, seething with indignation. Anyone would think the holiday celebration had been planned entirely for her benefit, and that the Parkers were irritating intruders. Brad might have declared his neutrality, but his mother obviously intended to keep the Irving banner flying.
Her encounter had robbed her of an appetite, but she was not about to let anyone