Marriage by Mistake (30 page)

All right, maybe there was something wrong
here, something off, but most of it felt so good and right. The
last thing Kelly wanted to do was ruin what appeared to be Dean's
awakening, and the beginning of true love.

###

"Okay, so that's taken care of." Felicia
folded the budget request that Andrea, director of the Boston
Family Aid Foundation, had just given her, and put it in her
briefcase. Then she smiled at Andrea across the functional desk in
the tiny office of the family shelter facility. "I'll see what I
can do about getting you those folding chairs and call you later in
the week."

"That'd be great." Andrea stood to bid
Felicia goodbye. Her mop of frizzy brown hair and ubiquitous blue
jeans belied the sharp competence of a first-rate administrator. So
when Andrea's smile turned questioning and her eyes went past
Felicia's shoulder toward the door, Felicia turned around to see
what had caught Andrea's attention.

She found Troy Singleton standing in the
doorway.

Felicia hoped she didn't gasp. But, for the
love of    there was Troy, with his sharp-fitting
clothes, his easy grace, and his thousand-watt smile. Troy, who
instantly made her stomach sink to her toes and her heart start
racing. What on earth was he doing at the Boston Family Aid
shelter?

"Hey, Felicia," Troy said, and his smile
managed to widen.

As inconspicuously as possible, Felicia
cleared her throat. "Hello, Troy." His appearance made no sense at
all. Troy had been the one to suggest they never speak to each
other. But Felicia recalled her manners and turned to Andrea. "This
is Troy Singleton, Dean Singleton's cousin. Troy, please meet
Andrea Shapiro, director of the Boston Family Aid shelter."

"Pleased to meet you." Troy smiled and came
through the door to shake hands with Andrea. "I've heard so much
about this place from Felicia. Thought I'd come check it out." Then
he turned to look at Felicia.

It was a request. No, a demand.
She
was supposed to help him 'check it out,' by offering a tour.

No way. Felicia wasn't about to give Troy a
tour. She didn't want to spend five minutes in his company. Or,
more accurately, she wanted to spend a great deal longer than five
minutes in his company, while committing unspeakable acts with him.
Oh, her response to him was so dangerous.

She could easily imagine falling under his
spell, losing herself, forgetting that Troy was not the kind of man
a woman could trust. He wasn't Dean. Not solid or reliable or
safe.

But as she stood there being watched by both
Troy and Andrea, she couldn't decently refuse to give him a tour.
Andrea would wonder what the problem was. Troy would know. Felicia
couldn't let him think she was weak. If he could take being in her
company, then she could take being in his.

And besides, there was always the possibility
that a tour of the facilities might convince Troy to bestir himself
and use his sleeping charm to bring in some badly needed funds.

"Oh," she said, smiling innocently. "Would
you like a tour?"

Troy's dark eyes gleamed. "Why, yes," he
replied. "A tour would be ever so nice."

Felicia inclined her head. It was anybody's
guess why Troy was
really
here.

"Oh," Andrea said, and winked. "Be sure to
show him our 'new wing.'"

Troy turned to Felicia with a lifted
eyebrow.

She smiled with even more innocence. "We'll
save that for last."

With a curve of the lips that said he was
willing to play along, Troy lowered his eyebrow again.

It was all Felicia could do not to gnash her
teeth. Lord, but he was appealing, all lithe and athletic and
bedroom-eyed. She smiled her farewell to Andrea and then walked
quickly past Troy and into the hall. Fortunately, every room in the
place was full of people; volunteers, staff, and clients. She would
have no opportunity to give in to the temptation to press her hands
against his hard chest or run her fingers through his silky
hair.

Felicia's pace was brisk as she strode down
the hall. No, nothing
that way
was going to happen between
them here...but perhaps she could make something more constructive
happen. If she were very clever she might manage to provoke the
sleeping philanthropist in Troy's soul.

She started where the clients would start, at
reception. There, under Troy's polite attentiveness, she pointed
out the comfortable furniture, the carpeting, and painted
landscapes on the walls. Prospective clients, often fleeing
horrific situations, should feel safe and at home.

Troy nodded. He was doing his best to appear
detached, but Felicia noticed his eye catch on one client who was
sitting on the sofa, paging through a
People
magazine. The
client looked about fifteen years old, and had a black eye. Felicia
saw a muscle jump, ever so slightly, in Troy's jaw.

After a hike through the kitchen and dining
room, Felicia led Troy through the dormitory, where the rooms had
been designed to give privacy to family groups. There, touring a
one-bedroom suite, Felicia got her second hint she might be getting
through.

Occupying the suite was Roberta Brown, a
single mother suffering from cancer. With hollowed cheeks, she sat
in a rocking chair and slowly read a book to Shane, her
six-year-old son. Shane huddled in her lap, his arms clutched
around his mother's neck as he peered out at Felicia and Troy.

Felicia could feel Troy stiffen beside her.
At the same time, his sleeping charm seemed to leap to the fore.
"Hey, buddy, whatcha reading there?" He waltzed easily up to the
pair, then leaned sideways to peer inside the book.

Roberta smiled wanly up at him. "It's Dr.
Seuss."

"Oh, Seuss is the best." Troy put on a mock
stern look and pointed at finger at Shane. "I hope you're paying
attention."

Looking cowed, Shane nodded.

"Good," Troy said, and grinning widely,
chucked Shane under the chin. The boy laughed in surprise at the
sudden reversal in attitude, and reflexively grabbed onto Troy's
hand. There followed the kind of tussle Felicia had often witnessed
between males, something from which they seemed to derive a
mysterious joy.

Both Shane and Troy were beaming by the time
Felicia led the latter from the room. But Troy's grin dropped once
they were in the hallway with the door closed after them. "What's
wrong with her?" he asked Felicia.

"Leukemia. She's getting treatment through
government aid, but meanwhile she's too weak to make a living."

"Huh," said Troy, and his eyes flicked away
from Felicia's. She suddenly remembered a fact about Troy that
she'd long known, and had long forgotten. Both his parents had been
killed in a small plane crash when he'd been a teenager.

Quickly, Felicia turned away. Funny, how
she'd forgotten that, and funny how it now hit her. How hard it
must have been for him to lose both his parents at once, and at
such a young age. But he never showed any lingering ill
effects.

Or at least, not in any obvious way.

"Ahem. This way." Felicia started down the
hall. Unfortunately, the idea that Troy might harbor some
vulnerability poked at her. It made him, somehow, more real.

Impulsively, she changed her mind about
ending the tour before they got to the 'new wing.' She turned right
instead of left. She strode toward the locked door that led to the
attached building next door.

Torturing herself? Taking an unnecessary
risk? ...Or pushing that final button, the one that was going to
move Troy.

Felicia had a key, given to her by the
hopeful realtor. She used it now to unlock the door and open it
onto the large, empty warehouse space. She walked in and flipped
the switch for the set of naked light bulbs around the walls. Her
skin tingled as Troy walked in after her. They were now alone
together in the big, echoing space. But she put on a serene smile
as she turned to face him.

"And this," she told him, "is our 'new wing,'
or what we hope to acquire. We could really use it, as I imagine
you can now see. But...we don't have a down payment."

Troy hummed and took a polite look around the
empty space. Felicia knew he understood what she'd actually said.
She could really use
his
services. Oh, if he would only
deign to exert himself, Felicia just knew he could get that down
payment together.

Smiling wryly, Troy leaned against the open
door jamb. "I was right the other night."

"Excuse me?"

He laughed softly. "About you being a good
person. You are that, in spades."

"Oh, please. And didn't we agree, that same
night, that it wasn't a good idea to trade compliments?"

Troy chuckled and looked down at his shoes.
"Yeah, we did, but...why did we decide that, Felicia? That is, it
seemed to make sense at the time, but I've been having a harder and
harder job remembering our reasoning." His gaze came up to hit
hers. "Remind me. Why did we decide it wouldn't work out for us to
get together?"

Felicia stilled. Was this why he'd come
today? To test her resolve? "You know why."

"Because we're too different?" He sounded
doubtful.

Felicia wasn't to be deflected. "Yes, because
we're too different."

His head canted to one side. "But that could
be a plus, don't you think? Maybe we could, oh, balance each other
out."

"No."

It was Troy's turn to go still. Felicia knew
then that she'd blown it. She'd dismissed the idea too quickly,
betraying she had another, better reason for refusing a
relationship with him.

"O-kay," he said, and looked at her.

Felicia expelled a breath and took a pace
away, one hand to her forehead. Maybe she should tell him. If he
understood, he might go away. With her hand still on her forehead,
she spoke. "Look, my mother married my father when he got her
pregnant with me. She was wildly in love with him. But my father,
well    " Felicia lowered her hand and released a dry
laugh. "My father had never wanted to be married. And so...he
didn't bother to act like he
was
married. I don't think he
lacked some kind of girlfriend the entire span of my parents'
marriage. But my mother hung on...for too long."

Troy's dark eyes watched her, not with the
mockery that was so familiar but with something else; close
attention, processing, and finally, it appeared, comprehension.

"You don't want to be in love," he said.

Felicia let out a long breath. He
did
understand. And now she didn't have to say such a difficult thing
out loud. She nodded.

Slowly, Troy straightened. "I must admit,
it's flattering that you believe you
could
fall in love with
me."

"'Could' being the operative word."

He chuckled. "Yeah. Anyway, I'm grateful for
that much, since I'm pretty sure I'm already
in
love with
you."

Her head whipped toward him.

His smile was rueful. "I was halfway there
and then Dean dropped out of the running. It didn't take long to
fall the rest of the way."

Felicia knew she was staring. "You," she
demanded, "are in love with me?"

He shot her a deriding glance. "Don't look
too impressed. My being in love doesn't mean as much as some other
guy doing it. I must have been in love, oh, a dozen times
   just this year."

She laughed, but was painfully certain it
hadn't come out right, light and unconcerned. But she
should
be unconcerned, because he was correct. Him being in love wasn't
nearly the serious matter it might be for another man.

Meanwhile Troy lifted a shoulder and leaned
against the jamb again. "But now that you've explained, I can see
where you're coming from. It wouldn't do for a serious woman like
you to get involved with a man who thinks two months is akin to a
lifetime commitment."

Their eyes met. Two months, Felicia thought.
No, she shouldn't be concerned    or impressed or excited
or any other stupid thing    if that's what Troy meant by
being in love.

"You were right about me," Troy went on,
sobering. "In every respect. What you said about how I don't want
to do or be anything because I'm afraid I wouldn't measure up. You
were
so
right. And    And it's safer not to
want
things." He looked away and sucked in his lips. "Much
safer."

Felicia gazed at him as he stood there, so
handsome with his hair falling over his forehead. Yes, he was
sensual, but more. She'd never again be able to dismiss him as that
nasty Troy Singleton. He wasn't a monster, but a human being, with
a human being's load of dreams and desires    and
wounds.

For the sake of that human being, she smiled
and claimed, "Well, for what it's worth, I do think you could be
more. And measure up."

Troy looked back at her and his eyes
crinkled. "Ah, Felicia. You are never going to give up."

"Excuse me?"

He looked ceilingward. "You are
still
trying to get me to be your fundraiser."

"Well! I'm sure I    "

"Don't worry." Troy was back to his
lighthearted self. "Now that I've seen the place and everything you
do here I'll be sure not to ruin things by sticking my oar in the
water."

"Oh, Troy." He was
impossible
.

"But thanks for showing me around." Laughing
now, he pushed off the jamb and walked toward her. His hilarity
sobered as he reached quickly, gently, to touch her cheek. "And
thanks for explaining things to me. It helps...kind of."

He looked into her eyes and she felt punched.
There was so much person, so much
Troy
in his eyes. Then he
smiled again, jaunty. "Goodbye, Felicia."

"Goodbye, Troy." She told herself that
whatever she'd just seen in his eyes meant nothing. This idea of
being in love with her was a mistake or a joke. Or    or
just some passing fancy. Two months, right? Whatever he felt, it
couldn't be
love
.