Everything but the Baby (Harlequin Superromance) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Travers in?”
    The maid shook her head and enjoyed a quick chomp of gum. “Nope. He’s doing the Get Happy run. You know, for his client. He’ll be home in half an hour. if you’d like to wait.”
    â€œThat would be great,” Allison said eagerly.
    She’d love to get an advance look at his house. You could tell a lot from the books people read and the knickknacks they collected. Take, for instance, her secret copy of Baby Names or the little plastic leprechaun whose joints jiggled and collapsed when she pressed on the base, which she’d kept all these years because it was the only toy her mother had given her that her father hadn’t thrown away. Anyone who saw those would certainly know that she wasn’t the hardheaded businesswoman she pretended to be.
    â€œOkay, then,” the maid said, nodding and chewing. And then she shut the door in Allison’s face.
    Allison stared a minute at the beautiful grapevines carved into the wood. Apparently Mark hadn’t botheredto check this lady’s references. Her last job had probably been at Naked-a-Go-Go, where you had to whisper the password at the cellar door or the bouncer would toss you out.
    She wondered if slipping the woman a twenty might help. But it wasn’t worth it. It was only half an hour, and besides, it was beautiful out here. The San Francisco summer was crisp, with none of the suffocating humidity that blanketed Boston right now.
    She perched on one of the terraced border stones in the shade of a spreading Japanese maple and waited.
    She didn’t have to sit there long. Within fifteen minutes, a red vintage MGB hummed up to the curb, top down. Mark Travers, his dark hair tousled by the wind, unfolded his long legs, climbed out and began to take the front steps in twos.
    Halfway up, he noticed her. He stopped, tilted his head and pulled off his sunglasses for a better view.
    â€œAllison?” He looked surprised, but not stunned.
    He also looked great. His T-shirt, on which a smiley face was surrounded by big yellow letters ordering her to Get Happy, was sweaty and molded to his torso. She had to admit it—that torso had probably made plenty of women happy this morning.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?”
    She stood up, brushing cedar-mulch shavings from her skirt. “I needed to talk to you. Do you have a few minutes?”
    â€œOf course.” He hooked his sunglasses over the neck of his T-shirt and held out a hand. “Come on in. You should have rung the bell. Gigi would have let you in.”
    Of course the housekeeper’s name was Gigi. It really was either that or Bambi. “I did ring. She told me you weren’t here and then pretty much slammed the door in my face.”
    Mark leaned his head back and groaned. “God, I’m going to strangle my sister.”
    Allison gasped. “Gigi is your sister? ”
    â€œNo, no.” He seemed to shudder. “God, no. It’s just that Tracy thinks I should get married again and so she keeps sending women over. The last so-called housekeeper was a Yale graduate fishing for a rich husband.”
    Okay, that answered one question. He wasn’t married.
    Actually, it answered two questions. He’d said married again. If he’d been married before and it hadn’t worked out, that might account for that subtle hint of women-are-nuts in his attitude.
    Allison wasn’t sure why his marital status mattered to her. Wasn’t she supposed to be in mourning right now? Nursing her broken, jilted heart?
    Besides, even when it was seemly to think about such things again, she had no intention of getting involved with a slightly arrogant, Batman-esque super-jock who lived on the other side of the country.
    If she ever got another man, he was going to be a quiet computer geek who had his own copy of Baby Names squirreled away in his nightstand drawer.
    Mark motioned for her to follow him toward the door. “Come on in.