Page 34 of Megan's Mate
Damn women, Dutch thought. Damn them all. Especially tall, curvy, sweet-smelling females with lips like... cooking cherries. He’d always had a weakness for tartness.
He jerked her away but kept his big hands firm on her shoulders. “Let’s get something straight....” he began.
“Now look here....” she said at the same time.
They both leaped apart like guilty children when the kitchen door swung open.
Megan stood frozen in the doorway, her jaw dropping. Surely she hadn’t seen what she thought she’d seen. Coco was checking the oven, and Dutch was measuring flour into a bowl. They couldn’t have been... embracing. Yet both of them were a rather startling shade of pink.
“Excuse me,” she managed. “I’m sorry to, ah...”
“Oh, Megan, dear.” Flustered, Coco patted her hair. She was tingling, she realized. From embarrassment—and annoyance, she assured herself. “What can I do for you?”
“I just wanted to check a couple of the kitchen expenses.” She was still goggling, her eyes shifting from Coco to Dutch and back. The tension in the room was thicker than Coco’s split pea soup. “But if you’re busy, we can do it later.”
“Nonsense.” Coco wiped her sweaty palms on her apron. “We’re just a little frantic preparing for Trenton’s arrival.”
“Trenton? Oh, I’d forgotten. Trent’s father’s expected.” She was cautiously backing out of the room. “We don’t need to do this now.”
“No, no.” Oh, Lord, Coco thought, don’t leave me. “Now’s a perfect time. We’re under control here. Let’s do it in your office, shall we?’ She took Megan firmly by the arm. “Mr. Van Horne can handle things for a few minutes.” Without waiting for his assent, she hurried from the room. “Details, details,” Coco said gaily, and clung to Megan as though she were a life raft in a churning sea. “It seems the more you handle, the more there are.”
“Coco, are you all right?”
“Oh, of course.” But she pressed a hand to her heart. “Just a little contretemps with Mr. Van Horne. But that’s nothing I can’t deal with.” She hoped. “How are your accounts coming along, dear? I must say I’d hoped you’d find time to glance at Fergus’s book.”
“Actually, I have—”
“Not that we want you working too hard.” With the buzz going on in Coco’s head, she didn’t hear a word Megan said. “We want you to feel right at home here, to enjoy yourself. To relax. After all the trouble and excitement last year, we all want to relax. I don’t think any of us could stand any more crises.”
“I do not have, nor do I require, a reservation.”
The crackling, irate voice stopped Coco in her tracks. The becoming flush in her cheeks faded to a dead white.
“Dear God, no. It can’t be.”
“Coco?” Megan took a firmer grip on Coco’s arm. She felt the tremor and wondered if she could hold the woman up if she fainted.
“Young man.” The voice rose, echoing off the walls. “Do you know who I am?”
“Aunt Colleen,” Coco said in a shaky whisper. She let go one last shuddering moan, drew in a bracing breath then walked bravely into the lobby. “Aunt Colleen,” she said in an entirely different tone. “What a lovely surprise.”
“Shock, you mean.” Colleen accepted her niece’s kiss then rapped her cane on the floor. She was tall, thin as a rail and formidable as iron in a raw-silk suit and pearls as white as her hair. “I see you’ve filled the place with strangers. Better to have it burned to the ground. Tell this insolent boy to have my bags taken up.”
“Of course.” Coco gestured for a bellman herself. “In the family wing, second floor, first room on the right,” she instructed.
“And don’t toss those bags around, boy.” Colleen leaned on her gold-tipped cane and studied Megan. “Who’s this?”
“You remember Megan, Aunt Colleen. Sloan’s sister? You met at Amanda’s wedding.”
“Yes, yes.” Colleen’s eyes narrowed, measured. “Got a son, don’t you?” Colleen knew all there was to know about Kevin. Had made it her business to know.
“Yes, I do. It’s nice to see you again, Miss Calhoun.”
“Ha. You’d be the only one of this lot who thinks so.” Ignoring them both, she walked to Bianca’s portrait, studied it and the emeralds glistening in their case. She sighed, but so quietly no one could hear.
“I want brandy, Cordelia, before I take a look at what you’ve done to this place.”
“Of course. We’ll just go into the family wing. Megan, please, join us.”
