Saving Home

“Absolutely,” Dorothy confirmed with a good measure of enthusiasm. “The whole world is opening up for you, Andy. You can be anything you want to be.”

“Anything, huh?” Andy asked, a touch of mischief shimmering in her eyes. “What if I want to be a six-foot-tall, skinny brunette model?”

“You can be almost anything you want to be,” Dorothy amended without skipping a beat. Twenty-five years in the family had taught the woman to be ready for anything.

Andy laughed, brushing her lips against the housekeeper’s soft cheek. “I love you, Dorothy.”

The housekeeper looked immensely pleased. She’d heard this declaration from the girls more than once. However, each time was special, as touching for her as the very first time she had ever heard the words.

Andy, barely a toddler, had been the first to say I love you. They were grown women now, but they were her grown women even if she didn’t share a surname or their blood.

“I love you right back,” Dorothy told her, slipping off Wyatt’s stool. “Remember, call me if you need anything.”

“Don’t I always?” Andy asked innocently.

Dorothy snorted in response. “You’re just as stubborn as your sisters so, no, I’m sure you don’t.”

“I’ll work on that,” Andy promised, and then a thought hit her. “Okay, here’s something you can do for me—and I’d really appreciate it if you did.”

“I’m listening.”

“I want you to quietly look in on Dad,” Andy told her.

“Because?” Dorothy asked.

Andy shrugged, knowing that the request sounded a little strange—maybe she was worrying for nothing. But having Dorothy confirm that would go a long way toward making her feel better. “Just to see if he’s okay.”

Dorothy cocked her head, scrutinizing her. “Why wouldn’t he be?”

Andy shrugged again. “Something is off about Dad. He’s slowed down lately, like there’s some big rock pressing down on him, taking the zip out of his step.”

Dorothy smiled indulgently. “It’s called getting older, dear.”

“Maybe,” Andy said. But she really didn’t believe it. Granted, her father could never have been accused of being an athletic go-getter. He certainly wasn’t anywhere near as full of life as Alex and Stevi. Still, her father had always been slow but steady, like the tortoise in the fable.

“But I’d feel better if you peeked in on him,” Andy said. She gave Dorothy a plaintive look, one that had never failed to melt the housekeeper’s kind heart.

As if Dorothy could ever say no to any of them. She nodded. “Consider him peeked in on,” she said as she left reception and went in search of Andy’s father.

There were no new guests checking in and, according to the roster, there wouldn’t be any arriving until around noon the next day.

It took Andy all of about thirty seconds to remember Cris’s comment about the Christmas tree needing more decorations on the one side.

That was easy enough to do, she thought. And while she enjoyed the camaraderie of decorating the tree with everyone else in the family, there were times when she savored doing things alone.

This felt as if she was carving out a niche for herself. Okay, it was only a niche partially filled with decorations and a couple of barren branches belonging to a Scotch pine. But it was her niche.

Andy dragged the ladder out of the hall closet where it had been stashed after they’d brought the tree in on the first of December and finished the decorating. Well, almost finished it.

Once she had the ladder next to the tree, she snapped it into place and made certain that all the tabs that needed to be locked were locked.

Arming herself with decorations, Andy carefully made her way up the aluminum ladder as far as she could. She stopped one step short of the very top.

With a critical, artistic eye, she went about hanging the decorations where she thought they would be the most effective.

As she worked, Andy silently upbraided herself for her earlier descent into a funk. She was well aware that life wasn’t all roses, gumdrops and music. But as far as things went, she knew she was one of the lucky ones and to regard her life as anything but privileged was just plain wrong.

Stretching up on the tips of her toes to reach a bare spot, Andy thought she heard the front door open.

Unable to see the entrance Andy listened intently, waiting to hear someone call out.

No one did.

When she didn’t discern anything further, Andy decided it had just been her imagination. She got back to critically analyzing where to place decorations.

“Excuse me?”

Andy was so wrapped up in what she was doing, the deep male voice coming from both behind her and beneath her made her jump.

It wasn’t advisable, she realized the next moment, for anyone perched on the next-to-the-top step of a ladder to jump.

The ladder started to wobble and tip. Andy saw too late that there was nothing to brace herself against. She couldn’t very well grab on to the Christmas tree to steady herself, not without bringing the tree down on top of her.

Faster than it took her to gasp, Andy found herself airborne, separating from the ladder, which was falling with her.

She braced herself for a hard impact, but while she was shaken and the air was knocked out of her, she did not come crashing down onto the floor.

Instead, she found herself in the very strong, outstretched arms of the man with the deep voice.

The man who was to blame for this embarrassing incident in the first place.

As she landed in his arms, she felt his forearms tensing, becoming so hard they could have been made of steel.

It took her a second to get her brain in gear. When she did, Andy found herself studying the face of an exceedingly handsome man of about thirty-two with intense sky-blue eyes, trim, dark blond hair and near-perfect chiseled features.

She had never seen him before in her life. His was not a face she would have forgotten.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Andy hated being caught off guard, hated being perceived as vulnerable in any way. It went against her own image of herself. This damsel-in-distress scenario was far from her liking.

“I would have been more all right,” she informed the man, “if you hadn’t snuck up on me.”

“Sorry. I left my noisy shoes at home,” he said matter-of-factly. “There didn’t seem to be anyone around.”

“Obviously your assessment of the situation turned out to be wrong.”

“Obviously,” he agreed.

Andy twisted her head and looked to see if the ladder had done any damage when it landed. Mercifully, it had managed to go straight down and was on the floor in front of the Christmas tree. None of the balls or decorations had been broken or dislodged.

That’s when Andy realized the stranger was still holding her. “Would you mind putting me down?” she asked.

“Is that a request or a question?”

He wanted to debate this? Andy felt her back go up. “What’s the difference?”

“If it’s a request, I have to comply. If it’s a question, all I have to do is give you an answer.”

Andy stared at him. Bemused and puzzled, she said, “And if it’s the latter?”

“Then I’d say yes, I do mind.”

Okay, she’d had about enough of this wise guy. Granted, he’d broken her fall, but he was the one responsible for it in the first place, so the two canceled each other out.

She narrowed her eyes. “Put me down.”

He inclined his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

Lowering her until her feet touched the floor, the stranger released his hold. Rather than say anything, he turned his attention to the ladder. He righted it with ease. “Looks like there’s no harm done to either you or the ladder,” he told her. Before she could contest his evaluation, he asked, “Could you tell me where I might find Mr. Richard Roman?”

Andy raised her chin. The guy couldn’t miss her combative stance, she hoped. “I could.”

After several moments had gone by without any further information from her, he asked, “Would you tell me where I can find Mr. Roman?”

“That all depends,” she told him.

His eyes narrowed uncertainly. “On what?”

“On the reason that you’re looking for him,” Andy answered.

“I’m afraid that’s between Mr. Roman and, for now, me.”

CHAPTER FOUR

UNDER ORDINARY CIRCUMSTANCES, Andy would have just called someone—Dorothy most likely—to take this man to her father’s office, or in a pinch, taken him there herself.

But there was something about him, something that made her uneasy. And it wasn’t because he was probably the best-looking man she’d ever seen. Her brothers-in-law, Wyatt and Shane, and her future brother-in-law, Mike, were all very striking men, but this stranger had an almost classic air about him. A layer of polish that was impossible to miss.

At the same time, the stranger made her feel as if she needed to protect her father from him, despite the fact that she hadn’t a clue as to why the man wanted to see her father.

For all she knew, her dad might have won the lottery and this man was here to present him with a lump-sum check.

But she strongly doubted it.

Prepared to stare him down, barring his path and access to the rest of the inn until she had her answers, Andy heard a noise behind her.

A whiff of Alex’s perfume preceded her sister a moment before Andy heard Alex ask, “Is there a problem here?”

“I certainly hope not,” the tall blond stranger said politely, and then he smiled at Alex. “Maybe you can help me. I’m looking for Richard Roman.”

“I believe he’s in his office at the moment,” Alex said, sliding onto the stool behind the reception desk. “Andy, why don’t you bring this gentleman to Dad’s office?”

Andy didn’t move a muscle. “Is he expecting you?”

“I really don’t think so,” he replied, unfazed by the challenge in her voice and body language.

Just as she’d thought. The man was probably a pushy real estate agent. It wouldn’t be the first time a developer had attempted to buy the inn out from under them. She and her sisters all loved the inn, but to her father, it was a living, breathing entity, a piece of his heritage. The inn was part of him.

The suit this stranger had on was expensive. Obviously he was good at what he did.

Andy didn’t trust him a whit.

“Then why don’t you give me your name and number and I’ll have my father call you at his convenience,” she suggested.

“Andy, that’s not how Dad does business,” Alex chided. “I’m sorry. She’s still rather new at all this.”

“I understand,” he replied, offering a smile that went a long way to lighting up the immediate area.

“I’m glad you do, but I’m afraid I don’t—we don’t,” Andy said stubbornly, slanting an annoyed glance in Alex’s direction. “Now, if you’re not going to tell us why you want to see my father, I’m afraid we’re going to have to go back to plan B.”

“Which is?” the stranger asked gamely.

“You giving us your name and my father calling you when he has the time,” she repeated.

Andy didn’t care for the look that came over the man’s features. As if he knew something she didn’t. “Trust me, he’ll want to make time for this,” he assured her.

That was when she noticed that he was carrying a briefcase. A briefcase that he now patted.

The pieces came together in her head. “You’re a lawyer, aren’t you?”

His smile was incredibly sensual. Andy didn’t know which annoyed her more, his amusement or his sensuality.

“What makes you say that?” he asked.

He didn’t bother denying that he was a lawyer. “Because only a lawyer could get under my skin this fast.”

Her eyes narrowed as she considered the stranger from an entirely different perspective. Now he wasn’t just an annoying person who wouldn’t give her his name, he represented a possible problem, the nature of which was still unclear.

“What’s this all about?”

“Currently, it’s about you not letting me see your father,” he replied calmly.

“He’s a very busy man,” Andy informed the guy coldly. She was aware that Alex was staring at her, but she ignored her sister. “We can’t just let anyone waltz in and interrupt what he’s doing. Now either state your business or give me your card and I’ll have him—”

“Give me a call at his convenience, yes, you’ve already covered that,” the lawyer said, clearly tiring of this game.

Well, he was the one who started the cat-and-mouse by not giving them his name. It was the oddest way to request a business meeting she’d ever heard of.

“I assure you that your father is definitely going to want to talk to me, Miss Roman. My name is MacArthur. Logan MacArthur.”

Andy glared at all six foot two of the man.

The lawyer cast an impeccable silhouette, and if she knew anything about clothes—and she did—the suit the man had on was roughly equal in price to her entire wardrobe.

He seemed to be someone born to privilege. Andy had an instinctive reaction to people who behaved that way.

She didn’t like them.

He looked her right in the eye. “Now may I see your father?”

“No,” Andy answered.

Her answer surprised her sister. The expression on Logan MacArthur’s face was impossible to read.

“Now you can tell me what this is all about and why you want to talk to him.”

“Is she always this protective?” Logan asked, turning to Alex.

“I don’t know,” Alex confessed with a vague shrug. “Most of the time she’s in school.”

Andy’s eyes blazed. She didn’t care for the way Alex’s reply reduced her to the state of an adolescent whose actions had no logic.

“Are you always this secretive?” she challenged MacArthur. Something was off, she could feel it. Why was he being so cagy?

Alex had had enough. “Andy, watch the desk. I’ll take Mr. MacArthur to Dad’s office.”

Andy frowned. Every step was an effort for Alex these past few weeks and seeing her ponderously make her way to the back of the inn would be an oppressive weight on her conscience.

Andy blew out a beleaguered breath. “You stay where you are, Alex,” she said curtly. “I’ll take him.”

Alex shifted off the stool and motioned Andy over.

“You’re sure?” Alex asked in a lowered voice, regarding her uncertainly. “You’re not going to lead him through the back entrance down to the beach, are you?”

“Don’t tempt me.” There wasn’t even a glimmer of a smile on her lips. Stepping away, she crossed directly in front of Logan and said, “Let’s go.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, falling in behind her. “Nice tree,” he commented as they passed the Christmas tree.

“Thank you!” Alex called.

Since she was the one he’d found on the ladder, putting the finishing touches on the oversize Christmas tree, he’d meant the comment for the firebrand who was leading him.

“Did you do all the decorating?” he asked. “Or are you the kind who delegates?”

Andy spared him one uninterested glance before looking straight ahead again. “You don’t have to make small talk.”

“I was just curious.”

“I guess a lot of questions aren’t being answered today,” she snapped.

He laughed in response, despite the fact that he could tell his amusement didn’t sit well with Andy. But at the moment, there was nothing she could do about it.

The door to her father’s office was closed. She knocked on it lightly. “Dad? Are you there?” When there was no reply, she knocked again, just as lightly as before. Still no answer.

The young woman turned and said, “Looks like you’re out of luck after all, MacArthur. He’s not in.”

She turned on her heel. He remained in front of the door.

“Where else would he be?” Logan asked.

If looks could kill, present company would have been reduced to a pile of smoldering embers. “I’m sorry, he didn’t file his itinerary with me this morning so I really haven’t a clue. Seems like you’re going to have to leave your card with me, after all.”

Oh, no. I’m not making it that easy for you, Logan thought. “I have a feeling if I did that, it might just inspire you to test out your shredder.”

“We don’t have a shredder,” she informed him. “But now that you mention it, that is something to think about.” Again she moved away from the door—and again, Logan didn’t follow.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll just sit in your father’s office,” he nodded at the door, “and wait for him there.”

She did not want this man in her father’s office, hovering about like some vulture waiting for its prey to die so it could start eating.

“No telling how long you’ll have to wait,” she warned him.

“I don’t mind,” Logan told her flatly. “I’m being well compensated for my time.”

Andy struggled to keep her temper in check, something that ordinarily wasn’t a problem for her.

But she absolutely hated not knowing why he was here. There was something about this man and his perfectly groomed exterior that made her nervous, as if something was going to happen, something that she wouldn’t be able to fix.

People with nothing to hide were far more open than he was being. Granted, he’d said he was a lawyer and lawyers were closemouthed unless they were on the floor of a courtroom, grandstanding and thrilling to the sound of their own voices. At least that was how they were portrayed on TV, which was the closest she’d come to seeing a lawyer before this.

But this was about her father, and whatever affected Richard Roman affected them all. They were a family that didn’t keep secrets from one another. That wasn’t what they were all about.

Obviously this man didn’t understand that simple concept.

She tried to approach the problem from a basic, practical perspective, hoping that would finally sink in. “Well, I can’t just leave you alone in my father’s office.”

Logan nodded and for one brief, shining moment, Andy thought she was finally going to get rid of the man. But then he said, “You could stay with me, make sure I didn’t make off with anything.”

“What I’m worried about,” she replied, doing her best to inject an eerie stillness in her voice that she hoped he recognized as the calm that came just before a huge storm, “is that you’re going to say something to upset my father. My father has enough to deal with these days.”

“Oh? Like what?” Logan asked, a bit too innocently in her opinion.

She gave him an answer steeped in practicality and logic. Something she felt would appeal to the man. “This is one of our busiest times of the year and my father prides himself on always making sure everyone who stays here has an exceptionally good time. That’s not nearly as easy as it sounds.”

“I’m sure it’s not.” He was nothing if not sympathetic sounding.

Andy saw his attitude as something else. “Do you get bonuses for patronizing people? Or is that just an extra you throw in?” she wanted to know.

The woman was clearly imagining things, but he wasn’t going to call her out on it. He had an endless supply of patience and he dug deep into it right now.

“I wasn’t aware I was being patronizing.”

“Well, now you know,” Andy informed him with finality.

“I do apologize,” Logan told her, trying to suppress his amusement. He couldn’t help himself. With her tough attitude, this very young woman should be working in the military. Or teaching self-defense somewhere, anyway.

As hard as he tried to choke back a smile, she must’ve sensed something in his expression. He watched her bristle. Uh-oh.

Andy found his smile unsettling, which in itself annoyed her to no end. Given half a chance, she would have liked to wipe it off the man’s chiseled face.

“If you’re really serious about apologizing,” she said, “just leave.”

From the way he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, she could tell that was not about to happen. “I’m afraid I can’t,” he responded. “Not without first seeing your father.”

This was getting her nowhere. They were going around in circles and he looked as if he was enjoying the process.

“I could have our head of security make you go,” she threatened him.

It was an empty threat because there was no head of security, although in a pinch, she felt she could turn to Silvio. Their longtime gardener was well versed in things that a gardener had no business knowing. But then, Silvio hadn’t always been a gardener. The life he’d led before being forced to flee his native country was very different from his life here at the inn.

“He could try,” Logan told her in a mild voice. The expression on his handsome face told her that a mere head of security—even if one existed—couldn’t remove him from the premises.

Maybe it was because she felt so edgy, or maybe it was because she was struggling with those momentary twinges of envy, feeling the odd woman out. She really didn’t know. But whatever was behind her reaction to this man and his mysterious need to communicate only with her father, Andy felt her normally large supply of patience swiftly evaporating.

“Why won’t you tell us what business you have with my father?” she demanded.

“Because the business is with your father,” he underscored firmly without so much as raising his voice. “After I’ve discussed it with him, if your father chooses to include you in the matter, that’s his call to make and his business. My orders are to speak directly—and only—to him.”

“My father doesn’t keep secrets from his family,” she informed him.

“You’re very fortunate. Not all families are like that,” he added with what Andy felt was a momentary break in the cool, calm facade she’d been dealing with. “However, it doesn’t change a thing.”

Andy stood there for a long moment, struggling hard to keep her temper in check as well as banking down the torrent of words that felt as if they were rushing to her tongue.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to study the man before her.

Just what was it that made him tick? What was his story? she couldn’t help wondering.

There was no hard-and-fast reason for her to suspect that he would upset her father. She knew she was being overprotective because she worried about him. But, be that as it may, she still couldn’t shake the gut feeling that the man she was dealing with represented trouble with a capital T.

Get a grip.

The sooner this was over, the better for everybody, she decided. Opening the door to the office, she gestured inside, surprising Logan if his expression was any indication.

As he crossed the threshold, Andy took her cell phone out of her back pocket and tapped out her father’s number on the keypad. It was by far the fastest way she knew to locate her father and get him to come to his office.

This time, however, it proved an unproductive way to locate him. The moment she heard the call go through and the sound of ringing begin on her end, she also heard the corresponding sound of a ringing phone—and it was coming from the top drawer of her father’s desk.

Logan looked from the desk to her, raising a quizzical eyebrow. “I take it your father’s not hiding under the desk for some reason.”

Andy sighed, frustrated. She ended the call and slipped her phone back into her pocket. “No, he’s not under the desk. He has a tendency to forget to take his cell phone with him.”

“Like I said,” Logan told her, starting to make his way over to the padded chair in the corner of the office, “I don’t mind waiting.”

“Waiting for what, young man?”

Andy and the man she’s been verbally sparring with turned in unison to see Richard Roman standing in the hallway, less than half a foot shy of the office threshold.

CHAPTER FIVE

“WAITING FOR YOU, SIR,” Logan replied to the older man’s question. “I don’t mind waiting for you,” he said, stating the complete sentence so that the other man would understand. “If you’re Richard Roman, that is,” he qualified, although he was fairly certain that the man he was addressing was the same man he had been sent to speak with.