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Smooth Talking Stranger - Hardcover

Buch 3 von 4: Travis

Kleypas, Lisa

 
9780312351663: Smooth Talking Stranger
Hardcover
ISBN 10: 0312351666 ISBN 13: 9780312351663
Verlag: St Martins Pr, 2009

Inhaltsangabe

Jack Travis leads the uncomplicated life of a millionaire Texas playboy. He makes no commitments, he loves many women, he lives for pleasure. But no one has ever truly touched his heart or soul. Until one day, a woman appears on his doorstep with fury on her face and a baby in her arms. It seems Jack is the father and this woman is the baby’s aunt. The real mother has abandoned the child to her more responsible sister. And now, Jack is being called upon to take responsibility for the first time in his life. With delicious romantic tension, characters so real they walk onto the page and into your heart, Lisa Kleypas delivers the kind of novel that makes you laugh, love; cry and cheer.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Lisa Kleypas is the RITA-Award winning author of 20 novels. Her books are published in fourteen languages and are bestsellers all over the world. She lives in Washington with her husband and two children.

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Smooth Talking Stranger

By Kleypas, Lisa

St. Martin's Press

Copyright © 2009 Kleypas, Lisa
All right reserved.
ISBN: 9780312351663
Chapter One

"Don't get," I said as I heard the ringtone of our apartment phone. Call it a premonition, paranoia, but something about that sound severed every comfortable feeling I had managed to stitch around myself.

"It's a 281 number," my boyfriend Dane said, sautéing tofu in a pan, dumping in a can of organic tomato sauce. Dane was a vegan, which meant we used soy protein in place of ground beef in our chili. It was enough to make any native-born Texan cry, but for Dane's sake I was trying to get used to it. "I can see it on the caller ID."

281. Houston. Those three digits were enough to start me hyperventilating. "It's either my mother or my sister," I said desperately. "Let the machine pick up." I hadn't spoken to either of them in at least two years.

Ring.

Pausing in the act of stirring a handful of frozen veggie crumbles into the sauce, Dane said, "You can't run away from your fears. Isn't that what you always tell your readers?"

I was an advice columnist for Vibe, a magazine about relation-ships and sex and urban culture. My column, called "Ask Miss Independent," had started at a student-run publication, and I had quickly developed a following. Upon graduating, I'd taken Miss In de pen dent to Vibe, and they offered me a weekly feature. Most of my advice was posted publicly, but I also sent private paid-for replies to those who requested it. To supplement my income, I also did occasional freelancing for women's magazines.

"I'm not running away from my fears," I told Dane. "I'm running away from my relatives."

Ring.

"Just pick it up, Ella. You always tell people to face their problems."

"Yes, but I prefer to ignore mine and let them fester." I sidled closer to the phone and recognized the number. "Oh God. It's Mom."

Ring.

"Go on," Dane said. "What's the worst that could happen?"

I stared at the phone with fearful loathing. "In the space of thirty seconds, she could say something that would send me back to therapy indefinitely."

Ring.

"If you don't find out what she wants," Dane said, "you'll worry about it all night."

I let out an explosive breath and snatched up the phone. "Hello?"

"Ella. This is an emergency!"

To my mother, Candy Varner, everything was an emergency. She was a shock-and-awe parent, the ultimate drama queen. But she had covered it up so adeptly that few people suspected what went on behind closed doors. She had demanded her daughters' collusion in the myth of our happy family life, and Tara and I had given it to her without question.

At times Mom wanted interaction with my younger sister and me, but she quickly became impatient and surly. We learned to watch for every sign that would indicate the fluctuations of her mood. We had been storm chasers, trying to stay close to the twister without getting swept up in it.

I headed to the living room, away from Dane and the clatter of pans. "How are you, Mom? What's going on?"

"I just told you. An emergency! Tara came to visit today. Just appeared with no warning. She has a baby."

"Her own baby?"

"What would she be doing with someone else's baby? Yes, it's hers. You didn't know she was pregnant?"

"No," I managed to say, groping for the back of the sofa. I propped myself against it, half-sitting, half-leaning. I felt sick to my stomach. "I didn't. We haven't been in touch."

"When was the last time you picked up the phone to call her? Have you thought about either of us, Ella? Your only family? Do we have any place on your list of priorities?"

I was struck mute, my heart pounding like a dryer full of wet sneakers as an awful-familiar feeling from my childhood settled over me. But I was no longer a child. Reminding myself that I was a woman with a college degree, a career, a steady boyfriend, and a circle of good friends, I managed to answer calmly, "I sent cards."

"They weren't sincere. That last Mother's Day card didn't say one word about all the things I did for you while you were growing up. All the happy times."

I clasped my hand to my forehead in the hopes that it would keep my brain from exploding. "Mom, is Tara there now?"

"Would I be calling you if she was? She—" My mother was cut off by the angry wail of an infant in the background. "Can you hear what I'm dealing with? She left it here, Ella! She's gone! What am I supposed to do?"

"Did she say when she was coming back?"

"No."

"And there was no guy with her? Did she say who the father was?"

"I don't think she knows. She has ruined her life, Ella. No man will ever want her after this."

"You might be surprised," I said. "A lot of unmarried women have babies nowadays."

"There's still a stigma. You know what I went through to keep that from happening to you and Tara."

"After your last husband," I said, "I think we would have preferred the stigma."

Her tone turned icy. "Roger was a good man. That marriage would have lasted if you and Tara had ever learned to get along with him. It wasn't my fault that my own children drove him away. He loved you girls, and you never gave him a chance."

I rolled my eyes. "Roger loved us a little too much, Mom."

"What do you mean?"

"We had to sleep with a chair wedged against the door to keep him out of our bedroom at night. And I don't think he was planning to straighten our covers."

"That's all in your own mind. No one believes you when you say things like that, Ella."

"Tara believes me."

"She doesn't remember anything about Roger," my mother informed me triumphantly. "Not anything at all."

"Does that strike you as normal, Mom? To have large episodes of your childhood blocked out completely? Don't you think she should remember something about Roger?"

"I think it's a sign that she's been doing drugs or drinking. Those things run on your father's side."

"It's also a sign of childhood trauma or abuse. Mom, are you sure Tara didn't just go to the store?"

"Yes, I'm sure. She left a goodbye note."

"Have you tried her cell phone?"

"Of course I did! She won't answer." My mother was nearly choking with impatience. "I gave up the best years of my life taking care of you. I'm not going through it again. I'm too young to have a grandbaby. I don't want anyone to know about this. You come get it before anyone sees him, Ella! Do something with this baby or I'll give it to Social Services."

I blanched as I heard the edge in her voice, knowing it wasn't an empty threat. "Don't do anything," I said. "Don't give the baby to anyone. I'll be there in a few hours."

"I'm going to have to cancel a date to night," she said darkly.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I'm coming. I'm leaving right now. Just hold down the fort. Wait, okay?"

The phone...

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Verlag
St Martins Pr
Erscheinungsdatum
2009
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0312351666
ISBN 13 
9780312351663
Einband
Gebundene Ausgabe
Auflage
1
Anzahl der Seiten
340
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Verantwortliche Person
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