Stealing Home

chapter 12



SOMETHING WAS VERY wrong with this picture. Mark blinked and looked again. Why was there a man standing on the porch of Lorelei’s house with a baby on his hip?

What was going on here?

He slowly opened the driver side door and stepped out of the SUV. Confusion clouded his mind as he shut the door firmly behind him. He turned to ask Lorelei for an explanation, but she was already jogging up the steps, her arms outstretched toward the little girl. As he watched the scene unfold before him a slow anger flared in his gut, glowing brighter with every passing second. The answer was obvious.

Lorelei was married.

In an instant Mark saw with crystal clarity. The cowboy was her husband and the little girl was hers.

She’d almost slept with him. Jesus.

He’d been wrong about her, so wrong. Lorelei wasn’t what he’d thought she was—she was worse.

A tangled, nasty mess of emotions assaulted Mark as he watched her take the girl in her arms and kiss her husband on the cheek. How could she have done what she did with him when she had a family?

An image flashed across his mind of Lorelei topless on his kitchen counters, his mouth feeding on her breasts. Of her moaning his name.

Whatever transgressions he’d made in his life were nothing compared to what she’d done. She’d drugged him and stolen from him, but this was her biggest crime by far.

Mark swiped the back of his hand across suddenly parched lips and swallowed hard. He should leave. Just get in the car and drive away. He should forget about his cross. If she wanted it so bad she’d betray her family, then she could have it. And he’d sure as hell find another lucky charm.

Yeah, he should just go.

He walked to the porch instead. Across the huge lawn he strode, his shoes crunching over the patches of snow until he reached the steps. He paused and looked up.

Something twisted painfully inside him when Lorelei grinned, her smile bright enough to light the night sky. “Mark, I’d like you to meet my family. This is Michelle, the sweetest little girl in the universe. And this cowboy here is Logan, my brother. Michelle’s his daughter.”

Her brother?

Mark stared unspeaking at Lorelei, his mind reeling from the new information. He was such an ass. His mind tried desperately to backtrack down the path it’d been traveling because like a complete dick he’d instantly jumped to the wrong conclusion.

Belatedly he realized they were all staring at him. He jerked and held out a hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Mark.”

The tall, dark-haired cowboy took his hand in a solid grip and smiled, his dark eyes ripe with question. “Yeah, I know who you are. It’s nice to meet you, too. Care to tell me how you tangled with my little sister? I don’t reckon you two met at the local Tack ’n’ Feed store.”

Mark forced a smile in return. “No, we certainly didn’t. We actually met at a blues bar a few nights ago, didn’t we, Lorelei?”

A flush crept up her neck and flooded her cheeks. She turned quickly and strode for the door. Her voice sounded tight when she finally answered. “Why don’t we all go inside where it’s warm. Michelle doesn’t have a coat on and I don’t want her to catch a chill. Logan, why don’t you show Mark to the living room while I go make up something to drink?”

Still shaken by the force of his earlier reaction, he gratefully followed Lorelei’s brother through the door. The creak of rusty hinges and the sound of wood slapping against wood followed them as the screen door shut behind them. The click of Logan’s cowboy boots echoed in the entryway before becoming muffled on the braided oval runner.

Mark glanced around the roomy foyer while Lorelei’s brother removed his hat and hung it on a tree rack by the door. It was a big, comfortable house she had. Open and airy. Light filtered through huge windows and cast a warm glow across the scarred oak floorboards.

Beautiful oil paintings decorated the foyer walls, an almost opulent contrast to the faded floral wallpaper. One in particular caught Mark’s attention and he stepped over to get a better look. It was a painting of the farmhouse in summer with an older couple rocking together in a swing on the front porch. The man had his arm around the woman’s shoulder and she had her head rested on his.

It was happiness and contentment, peace and beauty captured exquisitely in one perfect painting.

“You like that?”

Mark started and straightened. He’d forgotten Lorelei’s brother was there. He regarded the painting one more time and turned to follow Logan through the open double doors into a living room. “I do. It’s a stunning piece of art.”

Logan motioned him to take a seat on a large, deep cushioned brown sofa. The lines softened briefly around his dark brown eyes and a small smile curved his lips. “My wife would have liked to hear that. I always told her she had a gift, but it’s good to hear from outsiders, not just those that love you.”

“Where is she now?”

“She passed away two years ago.”

Not sure what to say, Mark nodded and leaned back into the plush cushions. What was there to say?

Lorelei rescued him from having to answer when she strode in carrying a tray full of glasses and a pitcher of iced tea. The little girl toddled in behind her, the doll dragging on the floor.

“I assumed that iced tea would be acceptable for you to drink, Mark. I didn’t add any sugar.” She sent him a teasing smile.

The knot in his stomach uncoiled instantly under the warmth of her smile. It felt like being touched by the sun on a warm spring day. He felt himself respond with one of his own.

Twenty minutes ago he’d been absolutely furious with her. What was wrong with him? It wasn’t at all like him to be pulled in two completely different directions like that. He was afraid to examine too closely what it all meant.

Logan cleared his throat and gained Mark’s attention. With his hat off he looked a lot like his sister. Same straight nose, same stubborn chin. They both had the same strong, striking bone structure. But his eyes were a dark, intense brown and his short-cropped hair was nearly black. And he carried sadness like a heavy cloak, lacking any of the spark so visible in Lorelei. “You think the Rush has a chance at the World Series this year? I caught the game yesterday and the team looks good.”

More relieved than he wanted to admit, Mark took the offered glass from Lorelei and nodded his thanks. Baseball talk was good. It was safe. It was his life. “I think we’ve got a decent shot. If Kowalskin’s knee holds up and our new rookie shortstop stays healthy. That kid’s a real good player. And he’s quick on his feet. He’s been a real asset to the team this year.”

Out of the corner of his eye he watched the little girl crawl onto Lorelei’s lap and felt his lungs constrict behind his rib cage. The child snuggled down and rested her head against Lorelei’s chest. When Lorelei kissed the toddler on the head tenderly, he felt it clear down in his toes.

He looked away, breathed deep, and took in the living room. Noticed the warmth and comfort of well-worn furniture and soft colors. Approved of it.

It was Lorelei’s home.

When Logan cleared his throat again, Mark knew what was coming. He could see it in the slight frown that marred the sober man’s brow. “So, are either of you going to tell me what’s going on? Why I’m sitting in my living room with one of the major league’s best players?” He nodded toward Mark. “Not that I’m not pleased to have you in my home, you understand. It’s just mighty odd that my sister up and disappears for a few days—no word, nothing—only to show back up again with you.”

Mark cleared his throat, was about to tell him, when Lorelei piped up. The look she sent him was full of warning. “Nothing’s going on, Logan. I swear. I had that meeting in Denver, Friday, remember? Well, I went out for a drink after and met Mark. We hit it off and I’ve been spending some time in the city with him.”

Logan’s gaze sharpened. He leveled it on Mark. “Exactly what kind of time have you two been having?”

Three things hit Mark at that moment. One: Logan didn’t give a shit who he was, he wasn’t impressed. Two: He loved his sister very much. And three: He had no idea what Lorelei was up to.

And that made him all right in Mark’s book.

So he answered with complete sincerity. “I took her to last night’s game and she met my sister. Lorelei is a very special woman. Full of charm, as I’m sure you are well aware. I’ve enjoyed spending time with her.”

He could almost feel the relief wash over Lorelei. For an instant she even closed her eyes. For the grief she’d caused him the past few days she deserved to be exposed. He had a feeling if he told the truth, Logan would demand Lorelei return Mark’s necklace. She’d do it, too. His new lucky charm would give back the old one. And that just wouldn’t do. He had to let her think that he still wanted the necklace back—which he did. For purely sentimental reasons. As a lucky charm it was worthless now. Somehow its mojo had been transferred to Lorelei when she’d snaked it from him. So now he needed to keep her around if he wanted the Rush to be successful.

He bit his tongue.

LORELEI COULD TELL Mark was on the verge of exposing her. The look in his eye when Logan had demanded to know what was going on told her as much. The chance for the money would disappear entirely. Michelle would be lost.

She’d closed her eyes against the hot rush of tears. Waited for the ball to drop.

But it never did.

She’d gotten so light-headed from relief she almost passed out when Mark covered for her. Snapping her eyes open, she stared across her living room at him in shock.

Why had he lied for her?

For a suspended moment their gazes locked. The gorgeous gray of his eyes sparked with challenge. What he was up to?

She needed to think. Tearing her gaze from his, Lorelei began to lean forward, only to discover Michelle sound asleep. Her poor niece had dark smudges beneath her eyes. The exhaustion marks were a stark contrast to her pale, alabaster skin. Adjusting her arms until she cradled the sleeping toddler, she pushed out of the recliner and stood.

How could she not do everything in her power to save Michelle? She had to find a way to get the charm to Dina. Even if it meant destroying the strange, tentative, almost-friendship that she and Mark were creating.

Both men were watching her, one with concern in his dark gaze, the other with unreadable emotions shifting behind his silvery one. “I’m going to put her down for a nap.”

Without a backward glance, Lorelei swept out of the room and hurried upstairs. Not only was she going to put Michelle down, but when she’d gone to make iced tea earlier she’d slipped upstairs and plugged in her laptop. She’d thought about a backup plan. And that plan was online auctions. All she needed was ten minutes.

Once she reached Michelle’s cheerfully painted nursery she placed the toddler in her crib and covered her with a bright patchwork quilt. Out of habit she pressed her hand gently to Michelle’s chest, felt her heartbeat. When she was satisfied everything was normal, she kissed the petite girl on the forehead and silently slipped from the room, pulling the door mostly closed behind her.

And jumped when she almost collided with Mark’s broad chest.

“What are you doing up here?” she whispered furiously, afraid he’d wake Michelle. And because, yet again, he’d foiled her plans. How was she supposed to log into her laptop now?

“Making sure we still understand each other, Lorelei. You still have something of mine and you’re going back with me until I get it.”

So that’s what he was up to. “How’d you get up here?”

His look was deadpan. “The stairs.”

“Does Logan know?” Her brother was usually pretty protective.

“How to use stairs?”

Was he purposefully being dense? “No, that you’re up here with me.”

He raised a brow in question. “Why wouldn’t he?”

Ugh. Never mind. Obviously Mark had passed Logan’s inspection or he wouldn’t be up there acting obtuse.

She peered around him and glanced down the stairs. “Shhh. Keep your voice down. I don’t want you to wake Michelle.” And she didn’t want Logan to overhear.

He actually had the presence of mind to look chagrined. His voice dropped a decibel, but he didn’t apologize. “Are we crystal clear on this? You go back with me.”

She glared at him. “This whole thing is just so stupid, you know.”

“You started it.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Is that your room down the hall?”

She nodded and bit back a nasty remark when he grabbed her by the elbow and tugged her toward her room. Once inside he let her go and gave her room a thorough once-over. Hot prickles of awareness and irritation poked her as Mark stood in her room, his masculine presence out of place and unwelcome. The room suddenly seemed two sizes too small.

“Nice room you got here, Lorelei. Very feminine.”

She loved her room, adored it. Every single inch of it. From her white iron headboard and brightly colored quilt, to her vintage cream-painted dressers and braided area rug. She even loved the faded wallpaper with creeping vines and morning glories on it and her scarred writing desk against the far wall. She didn’t love that damn computer chair, though.

But with Mark standing in the center of her room with his Rolex and designer clothes it felt almost shabby. And she resented him for making her feel that way about a place she’d loved deeply her whole life. Felt anger at herself for thinking that what she had wasn’t good enough for Mark Cutter.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Lorelei walked over to the large picture window and looked out at the expanse of snow-flecked lawn below. In the summer, the huge old trees leafed out, casting the lawn in dapples of sun and shade. Flowers would overflow the flowerbeds, bright displays of color. It was the perfect yard for a girl to play, to pretend, to dream. To grow up in.

Lorelei closed her eyes and inhaled, then turned and faced Mark. “I’ll go back with you.”

“I know you will.”

He did know it. It was in his stance, his voice, his smile. So damn self-assured and cocky. Mark always got what he wanted.

Right now that was fine with Lorelei. As long as she got what she wanted, too. She plastered a big, fake smile of her face and asked, “Anything else you want, master?”

His sensual mouth tipped up into a seductive smile and his eyes went lazy. “As a matter of fact,” he drawled, “why don’t you come over here and give me a kiss. Right here in the middle of your bedroom. Your room, you get to call the shots, sugar.”

Lorelei strode slowly over to him, watched his eyes lower, focus on her mouth. She stopped in front of him and licked her lips, lifted up on her toes, and whispered against his mouth. “I’m going downstairs to talk to my brother, but when I come back, I’ll give you what you want. Wait right here.”

Mark searched her face, his eyes sulky, and said, “You’ve got five minutes before I come after you.”

Lorelei kept the smile on her face and her pace unhurried until she got into the hall. Once there she made her way quickly down the stairs and went in search of Logan. She found him in the kitchen making a sandwich. The sleeves of his ancient denim shirt were rolled up his deeply tanned arms, and his dark hair was smashed down flat in the back from his cowboy hat. Love welled inside her at the sight of him, as it always did.

Her strong, loyal, loving brother. Who hadn’t really smiled since his wife passed away, and who was weighed down by grief and hopelessness a little more each day.

Well, that was about to change. “I’m going to get the money, Logan.”

His head whipped around and his dark eyes locked on her. “How, Lorelei? By selling yourself to Mr. Baseball up there?” He gestured upstairs with the butter knife in his hand.

Lorelei sighed and shook her head. “You know I’d never do that.”

He turned back to his sandwich, added a leaf of lettuce. “You’re not pregnant with his kid, are you?”

That one made her snort. “Are you kidding? You have to have sex to get pregnant, and I haven’t had any in a very long time.”

His voice was almost too low, but she still heard him mutter, “That makes two of us.”

Lorelei grabbed a tomato from the hanging fruit basket next to her and handed it to him. “You know the waitress from the café has got the hots for you. And Michelle’s therapist is always checking out your butt.”

He glanced at her briefly. “I’m not ready.” The simple words held a world of meaning. He didn’t mean just dating.

“I’m going to promise you something. The next time I come home I’ll have the money. We’ll be able to do it, I swear. And then everything will be good again. You’ll see.”

Logan stopped what he was doing and reached for her. “Come here, sis.” She went to him and felt his strong arms wrap comfortingly around her. “I love you. You and Michelle are all I’ve got in this world. I’d do anything for my girls, you know that, right?”

Lorelei nodded against his chest, the worn denim soft against her cheek. “I know that. I love you, too.”

His arms tightened around her in a bear hug. “I swear though, Lorelei. You do anything stupid and wind up in trouble, I’ll tan your hide like you were caught stealing Mom’s prized baking apples to feed the horses. You understand me?”

“I got it, Logan.”

Just then his body went still and she knew without turning that Mark was standing in the doorway behind her. Her five minutes must be up.

“It’s time to go, Lorelei.” His deep, gravelly voice sounded behind her.

Yes, it was. Lorelei reached up on her toes and gave her brother a kiss on the cheek. He gave her a hard warning look and let her go.

It was time to get the show on the road.