Maureen Child - Millionaire - Needed for One Month - Thirty Day Affair

“I prefer alone,” he said flatly and she stopped halfway across the room and turned to look at him, still standing in the foyer.

“Now, why is that?” she wondered aloud.

His features tightened even further, until he looked as though he'd been carved from stone. Not really a people person, Keira decided, then shrugged.

“Anyway,” she said loudly, setting the basket down atop a hand-carved coffee table that probably cost more than her monthly house payment. “I've got a few goodies here to make your stay more comfortable.”

“I'm sure I'll be fine.”

She ignored him and started rooting through the basket, pulling items out, one after the other, with a brief description of each. “Here's a certificate good for free coffee and freshly made doughnuts every morning at the diner. And a jar of homemade jam—Margie Fontenot, the late mayor's widow, makes the best jam in the state. A bottle of wine from Stan's Liquor Stop, fresh bread from the bakery, a bag of ground Jamaican coffee beans—” she stopped to sniff the bag and sighed at the aroma, then continued “—there's a jar filled with the best marinara you've ever tasted, from Clearwater's restaurant—you really should get over there for dinner while you're here. The outside dining area overlooks the lake and there's no better place to catch a gorgeous sunset—”

“Ms. Sanders …”

“Keira,” she reminded him.

“Keira, then. If you don't mind—”

“And,” she went on as if he hadn't spoken, “there are a few more goodies in here, but I'll let you discover them on your own.”

“Thank you.”

“Now,” she said, turning to face him from across the room, “is there anything else I can do to help make your stay more interesting?”

“Leave?” he asked.

Keira shook her head at him, as if she were sorely disappointed. Wandering the great room, she ran her fingers along the deeply carved mantel over the fireplace and, just for a second or two, enjoyed the heat pouring from the hearth. Her gaze swept the rest of the room and lingered on the view of the lake out of the floor-to-ceiling windows. The moon was just beginning its climb across the sky, and the water shimmered with a breath of light as if waiting for the show to start.

She gave herself a moment or two to calm the flash of irritation inside her. Wouldn't do to insult the man whose very presence could mean so much to her town. But at the same time, she wondered why he was being so nasty. By the time she'd centered herself and turned her gaze back to him, still standing in the foyer as if he could force her to leave by simply not welcoming her in, she was wondering something else.

Why did he intrigue her so much when his rudeness should have put her off immediately?

And how was she going to make this man connect with Hunter's Landing and make a commitment to see this through when he so obviously wanted nothing to do with her or the town?

Nathan had had enough.

He'd been at the lakeside mansion for a little over an hour and already he had an uninvited guest.

Plus, Keira Sanders seemed to be oblivious to insults and clearly didn't care that she was very obviously not wanted.

His gaze swept her up and down more thoroughly than he had when he'd first found her sitting in the snow. Her jeans were faded and hugged her long legs like a second skin. Her long-sleeved black sweater came down to her thighs and, ridiculously enough, made her figure look more exposed than hidden. Maybe it was the way the soft-looking fabric clung to her curves, but whatever the reason, Nathan could appreciate the view even while wishing she were anywhere but there.

Her shoulder-length, reddish-blond hair hung loose in waves that seemed to dance around her animated face whenever she moved—which was often. He'd never seen a more mobile woman. It was as if she couldn't bear standing still. She was wandering the great room, her fingers touching, stroking, everything as she passed and he couldn't help wondering what those fingers would feel like touching him.

Yet as soon as that thought hit his clearly fevered brain, he knew he had to get her the hell out of the house. He wasn't interested in a monthlong fling. That was more commitment than he'd given to any woman he'd known in the last ten years.

Best to just get her out of the house now. And if that meant being even ruder than he had been already, fine.

“Thank you for coming,” he said, waiting until she gave up examining the bookshelves to look at him again, “but if you don't mind, I'd like you to leave.”

There. A man couldn't be any more plainspoken than that.

“Wow,” she said softly, her green eyes sparkling in reflected light from the fire, “nobody ever taught you how to treat your guests?”

He swallowed hard and pushed away the thought of just how horrified his grandmother would have been at his blatant rudeness. “You're not a guest,” he said tightly, reminding her as well as himself. “You're an intruder.”

She actually laughed at him. “But I'm an intruder who brought you gifts!”

Nathan finally left the foyer, since it seemed clear that standing beside the door wasn't going to be enough to convince her to step through it. He'd never met anyone else quite like her. She seemed impervious to rudeness, just rolling right along with a cheerful attitude that must, he thought, really annoy the hell out of people who knew her well.

“Look,” Nathan said, walking across the polished floor toward her. “I've tried to be polite.”

She blinked at him and her smile widened. “Really? That was trying?”

Frowning, he ignored the jab and said, “I appreciate the gifts. Thank you for taking the time to come out here. But I would really prefer to be alone.”

“Oh, I'm sure you want to settle in,” she said, waving one hand at him, blithely ignoring his attempt to get rid of her. “And I won't stay much longer, I swear.”

Hope to cling to.

“I only wanted to let you know that Hunter's Landing is ready to help you and the other men who will be staying here in any way we can.” She wandered to the big-screen TV, picked up the remote and studied it for a second or two.

If she turned the damn thing on, she might never leave. Nathan walked to her side, took the remote and set it down on a nearby table. She shrugged, walked to the windows overlooking the lake and stood staring through the glass as if mesmerized.

He watched her and couldn't help feeling a little mesmerized himself. The fall of her hair on her shoulders. The curve of her behind. The defiant tilt to her chin. She turned to look at him and her wide, shining eyes fixed on him with a slam of power he didn't want to think about.

“You'll only be here a month,” she said quietly, “and maybe you don't realize just how important your stay and the others’ are to Hunter's Landing.”

Nathan sighed and resigned himself to at least a few more minutes of conversation. It seemed plain that Keira Sanders wasn't going to leave until she was good and ready. “I know about what your town stands to inherit from the estate.”

“But you can't know what it means to us,” she insisted, half turning to lean one shoulder against the cold glass. “With that influx of cash, we can build a new courthouse, expand our clinic …” Her voice trailed off and she smiled as if already seeing the changes that would happen to her town.

“And speaking of the clinic,” she said quickly, straightening up and walking toward him. “I want to invite you to the town potluck dinner tomorrow night. We're raising money to get the expansion started and—” “But you'll have the inheritance—” “Can't count on that until it's reality, can we?” she pointed out, neatly cutting him off before he could finish his sentence. “Anyway, our clinic is good, but it's not nearly big enough. Of course, there's a terrific hospital in Lake Tahoe, but that's a long drive, especially in the winter snow. We need to be able to take care of our own citizens right here and, with the potluck dinner, all the money collected will go directly into the fund for …”