Sheltered by the Millionaire

“Thank you for helping me reach my daughter.” She looked down at her shoes for an awkward moment before meeting his eyes again. “I can never repay you for that...and now this.”

“I don’t expect repayment.” The last thing he wanted was to have her kiss him again out of gratitude.

The next time they kissed—and there would be a next time—it would be purely based on mutual attraction.

* * *

The stroke of Whit Daltry’s eyes left her skin tingling.

Standing at the shelter’s glass door, Megan rubbed her arms as she watched Whit stride across the parking lot back to his truck. His long legs ate up the space one powerful step at a time. His suit coat flapped in the late afternoon breeze revealing a too-perfect, taut butt. Her head was still reeling from his surprise appearance, followed by the generous offer she couldn’t turn down.

After six weeks of reliving that brief but mind-blowing kiss, she’d seen him again and would be spending an entire day with him. Somehow, because of that day they’d gone from avoiding each other to.... What? She wasn’t sure exactly.

Maybe he’d gotten the wrong idea from that kiss and thought she was looking for something more. But she didn’t have time in her life for more. She had a demanding job and a daughter, and both had taken a hard hit from last month’s tornado.

And speaking of her child, she’d left Evie long enough. Thank goodness Miss Abigail had been so accommodating about helping with Evie. The retired legal secretary had even babysat a couple of evenings when Megan got called out to assist with an emergency rescue. Evie had been particularly clingy this past month. And she couldn’t blame her. That nightmarish day still haunted Megan as well; she often woke up from dreams of not reaching her daughter in time, of the whole roof of the preschool collapsing.

Dreams that sometimes took a different turn with Whit arriving, of the kiss going further....

Megan watched his truck drive away, a knot in her stomach.

It would be too damn easy to lean on those broad shoulders, to get used to the help, which would only make things more difficult when she was on her own again. Megan turned away from the door and temptation, returning to reality in the form of her precious daughter sitting on Abigail’s lap as they played on the iPad together. Evie’s knight’s armor was slipping off one shoulder, her toy sword on the ground beside her tiara.

Megan held out her arms. “Come here, sweetie.”

She gathered Evie into her arms and held her on her hip. Not much longer and her baby girl would be too big to carry around. This precious child, who wanted to be a “princess knight” for Halloween and cut through tornadoes with a foam sword. Megan had hoped her daughter would relax and heal as they put the storm behind them, but now Thanksgiving was approaching and Evie was still showing signs of trauma.

The holidays were tough anyway, reminding her that she was the sole relative in Evie’s life. She was a thirty-year-old single mom.

And damn lucky to have landed in this small town full of warmhearted friends.

“Thank you, Abigail, for helping out even after the school finished repairs. You’ve been a lifesaver.”

The roof of Little Tots Daycare had been reconstructed quickly, but the dust and stress had taken its toll on the kids and the workers. Some had gotten the flu.

Others, like Evie, had nightmares and begged to stay home. Her daughter conquered pretend monsters in iPad games and dress-up play.

Abigail rocked back in her chair. “My pleasure. She’s a doll.” She pinched Evie’s cheek lightly. “We have fun readin’ books on the iPad. Don’t we, Evie?”

Bringing her daughter to work wasn’t optimal, but Megan didn’t have any choices for now. “Thanks again.”

“I’m always a call away. The benefit of being retired. Maybe we’ll see Mr. Daltry again tomorrow. Now wouldn’t that be nice if he became a regular volunteer?”

As much as Megan wanted to keep her distance, she couldn’t ignore all the amazing things Whit had done for her.

Evie patted her mother’s cheek with a tiny palm. “Where did the nice man go?”

“He brought a kitty to stay with us here.”

She stuck out her bottom lip. “We don’t like people who dump their pets. Does this mean I can’t like him anymore?”

“He didn’t dump the kitty, sweetie. He saved her from being cold and hungry in the woods.” Although she had to admit she was disappointed he hadn’t offered to keep the cat. She struggled not to resent his wealthy lifestyle. Everyone knew he was a self-made man who’d worked hard to build a fortune before his thirty-fifth birthday. “Tallulah lost her family and had nowhere else to go. We’re going to help her find them again.”

“’Lulah?”

“Right. That’s her name.”

“She can come home wif us and live in our house. I’ll get her a costume too.”

They already had three cats and two dogs, all of which Evie had been dressing up as part of her medieval warrior team. The costumes transformed them into horses, elves, queens and even a unicorn.

Their house was full.

And Megan was at her limit with work and her daughter. “You can visit Tallulah here while she waits to find her family. We have our kitties and doggies at home to take care of and love.”

Evie patted Megan’s face again. “Don’t worry, Mommy. I’ll tell Mr. Whit to keep ’Lulah.”

If only it worked that easily. “I need to work a little longer, just a few phone calls and then we can go home for supper. We’ll make a pizza.”

“Can Mr. Whit share our pizza?”

Abigail laughed softly from her perch behind the counter. “I think Mr. Whit wants to share a lot more than pizza.”

Evie looked up, frowning. “Like what?”

Megan shot Abigail an exasperated look before kneeling to tell Evie, “Mr. Whit is sharing his airplane to help send some of the puppies and kitties to forever homes before Thanksgiving.”

“He shares his plane? See. He is very nice. Can I play my games, please?” Evie squirmed down with her iPad, her foam sword tumbling from her hand. “I’m gonna play a plane game this time.” Her daughter put on her tiara and fired up a game for touring the states in a puffy airplane.

Megan glanced at the receptionist. “I don’t want to hear a word about Whit’s visit today, Abigail. And no gossiping.”

She glanced over her shoulder to see if other volunteers were listening in. Luckily, most of them were occupied with exercising animals, folding laundry and washing bowls. The only person even remotely close enough to hear was Beth Andrews, Megan’s favorite volunteer.

“Gossip?” Beth chimed in. “Did I hear the word gossip? That would surely never happen in the town of Royal where everyone stays out of each other’s business. Not.”

Beth wasn’t a known gossip, but was definitely known for helping out everywhere; she was very involved in the community. The leggy blonde owned Green Acres, a local organic farm and produce stand. Beth’s business had taken a big hit from the tornado. That made her generosity and caring now all the more special, given how rough life had been for her lately. The homemade goodies she brought to the animals were always a treat. Beth had that willowy thin, effortless beauty that would have had women resenting her if it weren’t for the fact she was so darn nice.

Abigail stroked her phone as if already planning a text. “It’s a gift having a community that cares so much. Like how Whit Daltry just showed up to make a big donation.”

Beth arched a blond eyebrow. “You two are speaking to each other?”

Megan shrugged her shoulders and examined her fingernails. “He’s helping with the overflow of animals. I can work with anyone for the good of the animals.”

“Everyone’s had their lives turned upside down since the twister. To lose over a dozen lives in a blink...to have our friend Craig gone so young....” She paused with a heavy sigh. “No one has been exempt from the fallout of this damn storm. Even our mayor was critically injured. And that poor Skye Taylor...”

“What tragic bad luck that she came back to town after four years on such a terrible day. How is she doing?” Megan rubbed her arms again, feeling petty for stressing over her life, thinking of Skye Taylor, found seriously injured and unconscious after the storm, her baby delivered prematurely. And since Skye was still in a coma, she hadn’t even met her child. Megan shivered again, even though she didn’t know the woman personally. As a mother, she felt a bond. Thank God Evie was safe. That’s what mattered most. She would figure out how to heal her daughter’s fears.

Clearly agitated, Beth thumbed a stack of shelter flyers. “Drew checked in with the family and Skye is still in a medically induced coma and the baby girl—Grace—is in the neonatal intensive care unit.”