Love Came Just In Time Part 17

Perhaps she was still put out with him? He'd apologized thoroughly for having splashed her. Secretly, he was relieved he hadn't plowed her over. He'd been trying to fix the blasted fax machine in his car. Another one of Stephen's insidious little a.s.saults, no doubt.

Perhaps, then, she wasn't looking at him because she found the company dull. He frowned. He could be entertaining. Perhaps he should try out some of those skills he'd learned in that Don't Alienate Your Partner seminar his mother had coerced him into taking the year before. He'd done it to please her, because she asked so little of him, though he hadn't seen the point in it. He never alienated anyone unintentionally. Yes, he would trot out his hard-won skills and see if they were worth the sterling he'd paid for them.

"Tell me more about your family," he said. There, he was off to a smashing start. People loved to talk about their families. And there he was, fully prepared to listen to her. It was a foolproof plan. "You mentioned a brother? The one who sent you over here?"

"Thomas," she said. "He bought the castle up the way. He wanted something that had originally belonged to a McKinnon. He's always been big on the ancestral stuff."

"And he sent you here to study the terrain, as it were?"

She sighed and stuck her fork into a mound of carrots. "It was a charity gig. You know, after the mouse debacle."

"Poor Dumbo and his ever-lengthening ears."

"He kept pinching my tail. He deserved every bit of whiplash he got."

"Oh, Megan," he said, unable to do anything but shake his head and smile. Megan McKinnon was a business disaster.

"The rest of them are just like Thomas: all successful, all the brightest of stars, all settled into their careers and forging ahead, the obstacles be d.a.m.ned."

Everyone except me. Gideon didn't have to hear her say it to know it was exactly what she was thinking. He had no frame of reference for that. Everything he'd put his hand to had turned to gold. Schooling, sports, business. He'd never once been sacked, never once been told he wasn't good enough, never once questioned his direction or his purpose. He could hardly believe such things had happened regularly to the woman across from him. Surely there was something she'd done that was noteworthy.

"How did you fare at university?" he asked.

"I quit. I didn't like them telling me what to study."

Gideon mulled that one for a moment before turning to another possibility. "Your mother's clothing business-"

"Baby clothes are cute, but not for a life's work."

"The theater?" he ventured.

"I've done it all. Sewn costumes, painted scenery, worked lights, acted, danced, forgotten my lines. All in my sister's theater troupe."

Gideon looked at her in horror. "She didn't sack you, did she?"

"I did the honors myself."

Gideon reached over and took her hand before he knew what he was doing. And once he had ahold of it, he found he didn't want to let go.

"You just haven't found your niche," he stated firmly. "Something will turn up."

She looked at him and her eyes were bright. Gideon suspected it might have been from the tears she was blinking away.

"Do you think so?" she whispered.

"I'm certain of it," he said, giving her hand a squeeze And then he understood what had been troubling her, why she'd said half a dozen times while stirring supper that she hoped the weather changed so she could pop up to the castle first thing. She needed a success.

And then a perfectly brilliant idea occurred to him. He would help her fix her career. His Don't Alienate instructor had specifically listed the fixing of partners on his list of Don'ts, but Gideon was certain that didn't apply to him. If anyone could fix Megan McKinnon's life, it would be him. And he would, just as soon as he had pried her away from her veggies so he could have her full attention.

"Let's escape to a tidier room," he suggested, rising. "We can talk more comfortably there."

"I can't leave the kitchen like this-"

"It will keep," he said, pulling her up from the table. "Maybe you can tell me a little about your career interests." He knew he was pushing, but he could hardly help himself. Business was his forte, after all.

"I don't have any career interests."

Gideon froze. "You don't?"

"Not in the sense you probably mean. I hate dressing up for work."

"You hate dressing up for work," he repeated slowly. "Yet..."

"I hate the corporate thing. Don't own panty hose. Don't want to own panty hose."

He lifted one eyebrow. "But wearing mouse ears and a tail didn't bother you."

"I didn't have to wear panty hose."

"I see."

"I think you do."

Gideon smiled at the way she looked down her nose at him. She was so adorable, it was all he could do not to pull her into his arms and kiss the freckles right from that nose.

Almost before he knew what had happened, he found himself doing just that.

She pulled away and laughed. And that was when he felt himself falling. It was the first time he'd heard her laugh, and he'd been the one to bring in out in her. He was so taken aback by it, he couldn't stop smiling.

She was smiling back at him.

Gideon realized then that there was much more to it than just a smile. For the first time in his thirty-two years, he found the thought of standing right where he was and staring into green eyes to be the most important thing he could possibly do with his time.

Alarms went off in his head.

Gideon ignored them.

They sounded again, but with words this time. Just what the devil are you thinking to stare at a woman's knees, then watch her destroy dinner, then want to kiss her?

Gideon blinked.

Good heavens, he was losing it. He was supposed to be taking her in hand and repairing her life. He was not supposed to be feeling his knees grow unsteady beneath him. He was not supposed to be gaping at a woman he hardly knew and finding himself so charmed by her that he had to remind himself to breathe. It was all he could do not to haul her up into his arms and stalk off with her like one of those blasted barbarians from one of Stephen's medieval texts.

But the stalking sounded so appealing if it meant having Megan McKinnon in his arms.

He looked down at her again, considered his alternatives, then gave his common sense the old heave-ho.

He took her face in his hands, stared down into her fiery green eyes, smiled at the silky touch of her riotous hair flowing over his fingers, then lowered his mouth and covered hers.

And for a blissful moment, the earth moved.

And then, just as quickly, Megan had moved-but not too far away because somehow his watch had

gotten caught in her hair.

"Ow, ow, ow," she said, grabbing her hair with her hand.

"Wait," he said, following her with his arm.

She gingerly pulled strands of hair from his watchband. "I don't kiss on the first date," she said, staring

intently at her hair.

"This isn't a first date."

"Then I really don't kiss, especially on the first non-date."

Half a dozen pot lids suddenly crashed to the floor. Megan screeched, a sound reminiscent of the

recently departed Mrs. Pruitt, and threw herself into his arms. Gideon contemplated the positive aspects of this turn of events. He put his free arm around her and pulled her close. She clutched his shirt.

"Do you think..." she began, "I mean, do you think we might have a few-"

"Absolutely not."

"Mrs. Pruitt said the inn had them."

"Mrs. Pruitt left her sacred post at the stove without a backward glance. Her character and stamina speak for themselves."

"Maybe it's just the wind," Megan said, pulling out of his arms and working more frantically at her hair. "After all, there aren't any such things as gho-"

The lights went out in the kitchen and several more lids crashed to the floor.

Gideon found himself again with an armful of Megan McKinnon.

"I don't hug on the first non-date either," she squeaked.

"You might make an exception for this," Gideon offered. "The storm seems to have picked up again."

It was dark as pitch inside the kitchen, so he wasn't sure what her expression was, but he could tell she was mulling it over. She relaxed a bit in his arms.

"It is a pretty bad storm," she agreed. "What with all the wind howling and everything."

"Yes, indeed. Dreadful."

She released her death grip on him, but not by much. Gideon reached around her head, released his watchband and gingerly eased it from her hair.

Megan didn't move a muscle. "Should we find a candle or something? Or light a fire?"

"Smashing thought," he agreed. He released her, only after promising himself he'd find a way to have her back in his arms as soon as possible.

It took some doing, but after rummaging about for several minutes, he and Megan both were proud owners of lit candles.

Now it was time to get down to business. Perhaps he could find a way to put his arm back around her while distracting her with chatter about her choice of occupations.

"Shall we go talk about your career possibilities?" he asked brightly.

She looked at him and blinked. "My career possibilities?"

d.a.m.n. The proverbial cat was out of the bag now. Though he'd intended it to be a pleasant surprise, there was no sense in hiding his agenda now. They could fix her career, then move on to other things, such as getting the first date over with so the second could occur and she could see her way clear to kissing him again.

"I'd wanted to broach the subject more gently, of course," he began, steering her toward the door.

"Career possibilities?" she repeated.

"I'm the perfect one to help you, don't you think?" he asked. "After all, my resume is quite impressive. I have hundreds of contacts and could likely find you any sort of employment you want."

"You want to talk to me about my career possibilities?" she demanded.