The Bride Came C.O.D. (Bachelor Fathers) Page 3

  You don't know the half of it, Lexi thought, shivering beneath her flimsy coat. He was rude, inconsiderate, and too darn handsome for his own good and she intended to tell him exactly that.

  If she ever saw him again.

  Of course, she might not mention the "too darn handsome" part. He seemed to be conceited enough as it was. Wouldn't you think Joanna could have had the decency to let her know that the environmental genius could give Selleck and Costner a run for their money?

  Not that it mattered. She wasn't here for romance, even if his unexpected kiss had taken her by surprise. At least at first. There was something undeniably romantic about being swept into the arms of a brawny stranger but his rotten disposition had quickly put an end to any fantasies she might have been foolish enough to entertain.

  She was here to be a wife-in-name-only for the next six months and the minute she fulfilled the requirements of her father's last will and testament she'd be on the next plane from Nowhere and headed back to civilization.

  A strong wind knocked her back on her heels and her resolve wavered. Succumbing to frostbite hadn't been part of her master plan. Okay, let him be a heartless, thoughtless monster. That was his problem. Lexi was going to take the high road and march right into that house and try again.

  She turned abruptly and nearly fell over a very tiny person clad in a bright red parka and a navy blue baseball cap.

  "I'm Kelsey," the child said. "Are you a princess?"

  Chalk up another surprise, Joanna, she thought wryly. His daughter is a little boy.

  "No, I'm not a princess," she said, bending down to inspect the snag on her ivory hose.

  "Then who are you?"

  "Alexa Grace Marsden." She extended her hand, realized how absurd it was, but pressed onward. "Would you like to shake my hand?"

  Kelsey nodded. The tiny hand was engulfed by Lexi's and she felt an odd fluttering in the pit of her stomach at the thought that she would be responsible for this child, if only temporarily.

  "Aren't you cold?" Kelsey asked.

  "Yes," said Lexi. "I'm freezing."

  "Why are you standing outside?"

  Because your daddy is a heartless monster, that's why. She pointed toward the luggage stacked at the opposite end of the path. "I'm waiting for someone to help me with my bags."

  "I can help."

  Even at that age little boys could be so disarmingly chivalrous. What a shame they had to grow up into dullards like her soon-to-be-husband. "I'm afraid they're too heavy for you, sweetheart."

  "Can't you carry them yourself?"

  She shook her head. "Afraid not."

  "My daddy could carry both of them."

  "Yes, well, I'm afraid your daddy isn't in the mood to help me right now."

  "Kelse!" Lexi jumped at the sound of her intended's voice. "Come in and get your mittens!"

  The child bounded off toward him looking for all the world like a frisky puppy. He couldn't be a total monster if his little boy was so crazy about him.

  He strode down the path toward her looking like a gladiator in one of those old Tony Curtis-Kirk Douglas costume dramas she'd seen on TNT. Broad shoulders, muscular chest that tapered into a narrow waist and hips. His thighs--she felt her face flush. Not much point to thinking about those thighs. Those thighs were none of her business.

  Even if she couldn't quite fathom how a bookworm ended up with thighs worthy of a lumberjack....

  "This isn't getting us anywhere," he said without preamble.

  She tilted her head and looked up at him. "I've noticed."

  "Pretty cold out here."

  "I've noticed that too."

  "You going to stay out here all night?"

  "I've been considering it."

  "I don't think either one of us has much say in this."

  She frowned. "Freedom of choice doesn't exist in Alaska?"

  He considered her for what seemed like a very long time. "I'll bring in your bags."

  A huge smile spread across her face. "How wonderful of you." She turned back toward the house. "Just make sure you don't scuff the leather."

  Kiel stared after her in disbelief. She wasn't kidding. She didn't turn around and laugh or do anything to let him know she recognized the absurdity of her statement. The woman he'd been cursed with glided up the walkway as if it was a red carpet and she was the Queen of Sheba.

  For the second time in less than an hour he found himself contemplating murder.

  "This isn't going to work," he muttered as he grabbed the suitcases and followed after her. If she made him that crazy in forty minutes, what would she be able to accomplish during an Alaskan winter?

  Besides, what in hell were they thinking of at Pax headquarters? Either this dame had the brainpower of Einstein in a very intriguing package or one of their enemies had found the perfect way to blow his research into smithereens.

  He chuckled grimly. Pretty apt metaphor, all things considered.

  Of course he didn't take all of the bags. He left her carry-on tote for her to drag into the house. She had packed two blow dryers, a set of steam rollers, her curling iron, three new skin creams especially formulated for cold weather, every eye shadow she owned, a new mascara, her electric toothbrush, and ten extra pairs of her favorite brand of pantyhose. She felt like she was dragging a Buick behind her.

  The inside of the cabin was much nicer than Lexi had imagined. Except for the moose head on the far wall, it was actually rather agreeable. Lots of dark wood, overstuffed furniture, and a huge fireplace. No wall display of beer cans or jock straps hanging from the mantel the way she'd feared. While it lacked the sophisticated ambience of her Park Avenue apartment, it certainly was livable.

  Whether or not she'd be able to live in it with the Incredible Hunk was anyone's guess.

  "Come on," he said, heading toward a dimly-lit hallway. "I want to get back to work."

  "I'm not a pack mule," she muttered under her breath.

  "What was that?" he asked over his shoulder.

  "Nothing."

  "You said you're not a pack mule."

  If she could've lifted the tote bag, she would have heaved it at his head. "If you heard me, why did you ask me to repeat it?"

  "Because I hate being muttered at. If you have something to say, say it."

  "From now on your wish is my command," she said in a sweetly acid tone of voice.

  "You don't do humble very well, do you?"

  "I don't do humble at all."

  She followed him into an average-sized bedroom that was dominated by a king-sized bed and a tiny chest of drawers.

  He tossed her suitcases on the bed and gestured toward the closet. "I made room for your things."

  She crossed the room and swung open the closet door. "Your clothes are still in here."

  "I said I made room. I didn't say I evacuated."

  "Why don't you put your clothes in your own closet?"

  "This is my closet."

  "What's your closet doing in my bedroom?"

  He met her eyes. "You mean our bedroom."

  She laughed out loud. "No, I don't."

  "Yes, you do."

  "You don't expect to sleep here, do you?"

  "Yeah," he said. "Actually I do."

  "Absolutely not."

  "Sorry, lady," he snapped, "but I'm not giving up my bed for anyone."

  "Then I'll sleep in another bedroom."

  "There isn't another bedroom."

  She stared at the bed. It seemed to be getting smaller by the second. The thought of sharing that tiny expanse of mattress with that enormous man made her feel faint. "Over my dead body."

  His eyes brightened. "That can be arranged."

  Chapter 3

  "That does it!" Lexi stormed from the room in a blaze of righteous indignation. "If you think I have any intention of sharing a bed with you, you're sorely mistaken."

  Kiel stormed right after her. "If you think I want to share a bed with you, lady, you need your head examined."


  They stood in the middle of the front room and glared at each other.

  "This is hopeless," Lexi said, wondering what he would do if she beaned him with the moose head. "I can't go through with it."

  "I was thinking the same thing."

  "We'll kill each other before the week is out."

  His expression darkened. As if that were possible. "Maybe sooner."

  "I'm going to call Joanna and tell her. I'm sure she can find someone else."

  "The telephone is in the kitchen."

  He certainly seemed in a hurry to put an end to this arrangement. Feeling slightly miffed, she found her way down the corridor to the kitchen. As kitchens went it really wasn't that bad. She'd half-expected a litter of dirty pots and pans stacked everywhere but to her surprise the countertops were clear.

  And clean. She ran a finger across the formica backsplash over the sink. No dust. No mildew. No grunge. For the life of her she couldn't imagine why he needed a wife.

  Not that it was her problem any longer. She fumbled through her bag for her address book. It was buried under a mound of dry cleaners tickets, loose change, and theatre playbills. She chuckled hollowly. No more worrying about whether the dry cleaner would hold her red beaded gown until spring. With a little luck she'd be home by this time tomorrow, jetlagged and still looking for a husband.

  "Sorry, Joanna," she murmured as she reached for the phone. "Great idea. Wrong candidate."

  The telephone was one of those absurdly modern contraptions with all sorts of flashing lights and buttons that made the act of dialing a number into something akin to bringing the space shuttle in for a landing.

  She pressed the button marked Line 1.

  Nothing.

  She pressed the button marked Line 2.

  Still nothing.

  Irritated, she jiggled the hook, banged the receiver against the edge of the counter, then proceeded to press every single button on the console with growing agitation.

  Kiel burst into the room like a hand grenade. "What the hell are you doing?"

  "Trying to make a phone call," she snapped. "Don't you people up here believe in dial tones?"

  "Give me that."

  He grabbed the receiver from her, punched in a series of codes, then slammed the receiver back on the console. "Next time you have trouble with the phone, tell me. You could have--" He stopped abruptly.

  "Could have what?" she asked, her curiosity sharpened.

  "Daddy!" Kelsey pushed open the back door and trailed snow across the kitchen floor. "The whistles are blowing!" The child's eyes were wide with excitement.

  "Nothing to worry about," Kiel said easily. "Lexi pushed the wrong button, that's all."

  He sounded so cool, so calm, so normal that Lexi had a hard time reconciling the crazy man who'd screamed at her with the loving father.

  "Your telephone sets off whistles?" she asked.

  "It's an alarm system," he said, as Kelsey went back outside to play.

  "An alarm system?" She laughed despite herself. "What are you afraid of, a moose with a yen for a VCR?"

  The look he gave her would have stopped a wiser woman in her tracks. "I don't give a damn about the VCR but I do give a damn about my kid."

  "Of course you do," Lexi persisted despite the way a muscle in his jaw clenched and unclenched ominously, "but what are you protecting her from?"

  He picked up the telephone, punched in yet another code, then handed her the receiver. "Make your call."

  She handed the receiver back to him. "There's no dial tone."

  He held the receiver to his ear, muttered something rude, then fiddled with some switches on the side of the console. "No dial tone."

  "That's what I said."

  "The lines must be down between here and town."

  "So now what?"

  "We wait for them to go back up."

  "But I want to get out of here."

  "No more than I want you to," he said. A bit too heartily in Lexi's opinion.

  She gestured in the general direction of civilization. "Maybe one of your neighbors has phone service."

  "I don't have any neighbors."

  A chill ran up her spine. "There must be somebody."

  "This is Alaska. Your next-door neighbor could be a hundred miles away."

  She thought of six months alone in the tiny house with only Kiel Brown and his son for company. Six long winter months with two adults and one king-size bed. A dangerous combination. And, if she was honest with herself, especially dangerous when the man in question looked like Kiel.

  Not that she was particularly attracted to him, mind you. It was just that his type usually assumed women would fall at his feet in adoration. Unfortunately for Mr. Brown, Lexi believed adoration was a one-way street with all the traffic heading in her direction. Grown men had the habit of turning into quivering masses of protoplasm when they were around her. An odd reaction, perhaps, but one with which she'd become personally attached.

  Mr. Tall, Dark and Ornery, however, barely seemed to notice she was female. She doubted if he even remembered the fact that they'd shared a kiss, a fact that made her feel more prickly and annoyed than it should.

  Which, in turn, made her dislike him all the more.

  They stared at each other for a good three minutes. Kiel wished he had a stopwatch because it was beginning to look like they might be going for the Guinness Book of World Records.

  He had to hand it to her. She never blinked. Not once. Just levelled those baby blues on him and did her best to make him squirm.

  Close call, pal, the little voice inside piped up. You could've been stuck with her until the thaw.

  Just the two of them, sharing that king-size bed. Okay, they'd be sleeping in it at different times but the thought was still enough to set his blood moving a little faster through his veins.

  Which was exactly the way he didn't want to feel.

  What in hell had PAX been thinking of when they sent this pint-size Mata Hari up here to take care of Kelsey? He'd expected a no-nonsense type, as brainy and single-minded as he was. She was single-minded, he'd give her that, and for all he knew she had an advanced degree in quantum physics. His late wife had been beautiful and brainy. He knew one asset didn't negate the other. Still Alexa Marsden wasn't exactly the kind of woman he envisioned digging her way through a foot of snow to get to the woodpile. She was the kind of woman who got

  other people to plow through the snow to get to the woodpile.

  And as soon as the phones were back up she'd be someone else's problem.

  Connecticut

  Ryder O'Neal met his wife's eyes across the conference table. "That's an old trick, Jo," he said with a shake of his head, "cutting the phone lines."

  "I'm wounded," she said. "Cutting the phone lines is a terribly outdated thing to do." A sly smile curved the ends of her mouth. "I had Larry in Communications jam them."

  "Any particular reason?"

  She pretended to scan some papers scattered in front of her. "Let's just call it women's intuition."

  "You make me nervous when you say things like that."

  "After six years of marriage and two kids you should be used to it."

  "I know that look in your eye. What the hell are you up to?"

  "Preventive maintenance," she said with a laugh calculated to make her husband even more nervous. "They've probably just had their first fight and they're looking for an escape hatch."

  "And you want to make sure they can't find one."

  "You know me too well."

  His frown deepened. "You're not matchmaking, are you?"

  She looked genuinely affronted. "How could you ask such a thing?" she countered. "Everyone knows Kiel isn't looking for romance."

  "And we both know why Lexi was so eager to go off to Nowhere on a moment's notice."

  "A terrible match," Joanna agreed.

  "The worst," said her husband. "Lexi Marsden is a major pain in the butt."

  "She's high-sp
irited."

  "She was born with a silver spoon in her--"

  "Watch it," Joanna warned. "She's my friend."

  "I wouldn't wish her on my worst enemy."

  "She's been at loose ends since her father died."

  "She's been at loose ends since the day she was born. Being married to Lexi Marsden would be like being staked to an anthill."

  Joanna took a deep breath and counted to ten. "Kiel needed a wife. Lexi needed a husband. She'd already been vetted by PAX the time we invited her up for the weekend and she's as politically unaffiliated as they come. Besides, who expected the situation in eastern Europe to reach the flashpoint just when your absent-minded professor decided he needed a wife."

  "There had to be someone better, someone more professional."

  "There isn't," said Joanna, struggling with her temper. "We're in Code 7 Alert Status. We can't afford to send any of our operatives up to Alaska. It's Lexi or nothing."

  He looked dubious. "And you really think this is going to work?"

  She nodded. "I really do."

  "So when are you going to unjam the phone lines?"

  "Soon." She looked down at her papers to hide her smile. "Soon."

  If it hadn't been for Kelsey, Lexi and Kiel might have lived out the rest of their natural lives locked in eye-to-eye combat.

  Thank God for children, Lexi thought as the little boy burst through the back door, dragging something grey and disgusting behind him. An amazing thought but heartfelt.

  "Daddy! Look what I found!"

  Kiel's brows slid together in a frown. "Where did you find it?"

  Kelsey looked sheepish and mumbled something.

  "What was that?" Kiel asked.

  "...your house...." Lexi heard the child say.

  Kiel crouched down in front of his offspring. "What did I tell you about playing near the lab?"

  "You told me no."

  "And why did I tell you no?"

  The little boy looked down at the floor. "I could get hurt."

  "I want you to go to your room and think about that."

  Kelsey looked back up at his father. "I don't wanna."

  "You're going anyway," said Kiel.

  Lexi cleared her throat. "Aren't you being a little tough on Kelsey?"