Twin Ties, Twin Joys: The Boss's Double Trouble Twins / Twins for a Christmas Bride / Baby Twins: Parents Needed

He grinned. “Let’s just say the Carvers have impact in Terra Dulce. Always have. Funny, I hated that when I was growing up. Now I’m finding it can come in quite handy.”

She wanted to wring his neck. She looked at it, imagining her fingers there, slowly tightening. But that proved self-defeating. Touching his neck would quickly turn into something sensual. There was just no escaping the fact that the man turned her on.

“You’re impossible.”

“That’s probably true.” His face softened. “Aw, come on, Darcy. Grin and bear it. It won’t be so bad.” He waited a moment and when he didn’t see any relenting on her part, he sighed. “Okay, I should have called first. I should have warned you what I was planning. But you would have marshaled your forces against me, wouldn’t you?”

She gave him the barest of assenting nods.

“I have no idea how many muscular bruiser guys you could have invited over to take a whack at me. I didn’t think it was worth risking, when I’m so sure you’re going to be glad I move in when all is said and done.”

“Really?”

“You wait and see.” He tried to coax a smile from her. “I had to do this. I wasn’t getting anything done without you. And if I’d been locked up with Skylar much longer, I would probably have to start pricing cement shoes.”

The thought almost made her smile, but she managed to control it. “For her or for you?” she asked.

He grinned and she could see that he thought she was weakening. And darn it all—he was probably right. After all, he was so … installed. She didn’t have a clue how she could pry him loose. And she heard the boys beginning to stir.

And, truth to tell, there was a little place down deep in her heart that was glad he was here. That just showed that she was losing it.

“Just for one night,” she warned him as she left to take care of her babies.

“We’ll see,” he said, cocky as ever. “Maybe having me around will grow on you.”

“Yeah, right,” she said dryly. But she was already out of earshot by then. And she had a silly smile on her face. This was just plain hopeless.

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE funny thing was, despite everything, Mitch was getting more work done here than he had at the office. He could hear Darcy in the other room, talking to her babies, doing housework, playing a CD and singing in that great bluesy voice for the children. It was … sort of nice. Something about being this close to Darcy seemed to put his mind at rest in a strange way.

But maybe he was making too much of it. Probably it was just that he no longer had to waste time wondering how he was going to get her back at work. Now he’d taken work to her. So that problem was solved.

He worked through the afternoon. Darcy stopped by while the babies were down for a nap. He looked up to see her standing behind the French doors and he motioned for her to come on in.

“How’s it coming?” she asked him. She looked a bit edgy, as though she couldn’t get used to his being here in her house. That seemed so different from the reaction he was having, he had to smile, but it did make him a little sad. If only she could accept his good intentions, things would go more smoothly.

“Great. I’m going gangbusters here. But I could use a little feedback from you.”

She hesitated. “All right,” she conceded, dropping into a chair across the desk from him. He got her to help composing a letter, then made her run through some options on a real estate campaign he’d been asked to give some input on. She responded willingly enough, then looked at all his equipment in wonder.

“How did you get all this stuff in here so quickly?” she asked him.

He smiled. “I hire good people. That’s why I need you.”

She made a face at him. “Too much flattery and I’ll stop believing it,” she warned.

He laughed. “That’s what I like about you, Darcy. You’re about the most honest person I know.”

A small smile trembled on her lips. “So I’ve got you fooled, at least,” she murmured.

He grinned, leaning forward. “Listen, I want to get started on the Heartland submission. You know the right people. You know what has to be done to win the competition for the job. I’d like you to start working up an outline of our game plan.”

Her gaze was hooded and it was a moment before she answered him. “What makes you so sure I want you to win?” she asked.

That set him back on his heels. It had never occurred to him that she wouldn’t be in his corner. He frowned, studying her face.

“Why wouldn’t you want me to win?”

She licked her lips. “This development is going to take years. You don’t plan to be here that long.”

He nodded slowly. She had him there. “You’re right. I don’t.”

A spark of something that looked very much like outrage flashed in her eyes. “Then why on earth are you so intent on winning it?”

He drew in a deep breath. He couldn’t tell her that. He couldn’t even articulate his reasons in words to himself. He knew the feelings involved. Oh brother, did he ever know them. But that wasn’t something he could communicate to her. He wouldn’t know where to begin.

He knew it had something to do with proving himself to his father. And it had a lot to do with wanting to make sure Ned Varner didn’t get the contract. But there was more there. Maybe someday he’d be able to articulate it.

“My reasons don’t matter,” he said at last, trying to sound crisp and logical. “What I want to do is prove I can do it if I put my mind to it.”

“And then you’ll walk off and leave the rest of us to pick up the pieces?”

“No.” He frowned, realizing she was dealing with much more than what she was actually expressing in words. There was too much emotion in her voice for this just to be about the Heartland Project. “I’ll set up a team and give it a vision. I would never abandon a project like that. The groundwork will be laid. I’ll do it right.”

There were bright red spots on her cheeks. She rose stiffly. “Talk to me again when you’re serious,” she said.

“I’m very serious,” he responded. But she walked away.

He frowned, somewhat baffled by her behavior. She was upset and he wasn’t completely sure why. Oh, he had some idea that it had something to do with him and her lack of faith in his staying power. But that fear wasn’t based on anything real. She would see that soon, and her misgivings would pass. He really did need her for this project.

Pushing that concern away, he went back to work on some other things he’d been assigned, and a few items he’d taken up on his own. After all, if he was to make an impression in this job, he had to go way beyond the bottom line expectations. Way beyond. Otherwise, what was he here for?

An hour later he was agonizing over a flow chart when he felt something. The hair prickled on the back of his neck. He definitely had the sense of being watched. Maybe Darcy had undergone a change of heart and was hesitating just outside the room.

Turning quickly, he looked up at the wide French doors, expecting to see her there. Instead he found two sets of blue eyes gazing down at him, plus the dark brown eyes of the dog.

“Hi guys,” he said, waving at them.

The only one who responded was the dog, who wagged his tail enthusiastically. The boys didn’t move a muscle. He stopped waving. Par for the course. Dogs always did like him. He seemed to be striking out with little boys however.

Suddenly Darcy appeared. He stopped dead and stared at her. She was wearing tight blue jeans and a black V-neck shirt that plunged to reveal a lot of nice cleavage. Her hair was loose and flying about her face. She looked deliciously sexy. Staring at her, he felt an odd quivering inside. As though she’d read his mind, she threw him a glance so piercing, it might have turned a lesser man to stone. Then she herded the boys and dog away from the window. He watched for a few more minutes, but only the dog came back.

Suddenly he felt a little lonely. It was almost time to call it a day. He contemplated throwing in the towel for now and going in to the main house to join them, but then he remembered that he hadn’t been invited to do that. It might be prudent to wait until he was asked. So he got back to work. He had to do something to pass the time, after all.

Half an hour later he looked up and the boys were at the door again. That made him smile, even though their faces were still stuck on deadpan. They were obviously checking him out. And good for them. He had to admit, they were a pair of darn fine-looking kids—even if he did say so himself.

“Good genes,” he muttered to himself proudly. He waved at them. They stared. He sighed.