Harlequin Romance March 2021 Box Set by Cara Colter (best novel books to read .TXT) 📕

Irritatingly, he found he could dredge up more than enough regret about that.

He ground his back molars together. That was why he had to play it cool now. After exchanging a brusque greeting with her, he focussed his attention on the traffic and getting out of the city. The family estate of Ellerslie was in Cooperstown, nearly four hours away, and they were aiming to arrive by lunchtime.

Callie made no effort at small talk, and she only turned every now and again to check on Barney, who dozed in his crate on the back seat.

He glanced across when they were finally free of the city, his index fingers tapping on the steering wheel. Was it just that kiss or was something else on her mind?

‘I didn’t think to ask, but do you get car sick?’

‘No.’ She hunkered down further in her seat, arms folded. ‘Though I still don’t know what was wrong with taking the train. I checked, and it would’ve been fine for us to take Barney.’

‘We’ll have more freedom with the car.’ He fought a frown. ‘Besides, Barney will be far more comfortable in the car than he’d be on a train.’

They’d discovered that Mr Singh, Barney’s owner, lived a short walk from the apartment block. The elderly man wasn’t due out of hospital for another week. They’d assured him they’d be delighted to continue looking after Barney till then.

Owen tried coaxing her out of her odd mood. ‘How many times have you been to see Mr Singh this week?’

‘Every day,’ she answered, as if it were the most stupid question ever asked. ‘He needs someone to coax him to go for his twice-daily walks. Anyway, he’s good company.’

And Owen wasn’t?

He tried to quash that thought. It was pathetic, being jealous of a man who was old enough to be Callie’s grandfather. Besides, he wasn’t jealous. Mr Singh was minus one kidney. He’d just been through a major operation. With Callie to bear him company, though, Owen didn’t doubt Mr Singh would now make great strides forward in his recovery.

Callie might not realise it, but she was a lot like her grandmother. She saw a need and rushed to meet it—whether it involved stray dogs, high school seniors wrestling with math problems, or lonely old men.

‘I’ve dropped in on Mr Singh’s neighbour a couple of times too—the one who was supposed to be looking after Barney. She felt so bad about him getting away from her… She’d been scouring the streets for him.’

‘Didn’t she see the posters?’

‘She’s seventy-seven. If she wasn’t wearing her glasses… I know what you’re doing, you know—you’re trying to distract me.’

The collar of his polo shirt—a staid and boring navy—tightened. ‘From what?’

‘Of you going to the trouble and expense of hiring a car!’

Was that what had been bothering her? ‘No trouble. No expense. Callie, this is a company car.’

As he owned the company, he technically owned the car. Not that Callie knew that. He’d made damn sure she had no idea. But the lie was starting to rankle.

He opened his mouth. He closed it again. His financial situation had no bearing on their relationship. Besides, what they had wasn’t a relationship. It was an…association. He and Callie had made a deal. As soon as she got this job he’d never see her again. He’d buy the apartment block. And everyone would be happy.

Unbidden, the memory of their kiss rose through him. If he hadn’t been driving he’d have closed his eyes to try to shut it out. If she hadn’t been sitting beside him, he’d have sworn out loud.

It had just been a kiss—nothing more—a crazy, impulsive moment that had been brief and perfect. He told himself part of its perfection was due to its very transience.

Yet that hadn’t stopped the kiss from being on a slow-motion replay in his mind for the last five days. Five days in which he’d barely seen her. Oh, she’d dropped Barney off whenever she went out. And she’d been going out a lot. But she hadn’t volunteered to tell him where she was going and he’d refused to ask.

He gripped the steering wheel. He had to stop thinking about that kiss and he needed to get their…association back on an even keel.

Before he could come up with a neutral topic of conversation she closed her eyes. He didn’t know if she was feigning sleep or not, but he let her be.

Damn! She’d been so excited about filming at the estate and now she could barely stand to look at him.

When she stirred an hour later, he had a question ready for her. ‘Hey, sleepy-head, I’ve been meaning to ask—did you get a chance to meet with your mother’s friend? The Ryder woman?’

‘Hitchcock now—Melissa Hitchcock.’ She stretched and straightened. ‘I met with her yesterday. She seems lovely, and was really pleased to see some up-to-date photos of my mother…asked me to send her best, et cetera. But as for shedding any light on my paternity…’

‘No luck?’ That would explain her low spirits.

‘She thought my best bet would be to talk to Richard.’

‘Donna hated Richard. Why did Melissa think he could help?’

She pushed her hands through her hair. ‘She said he always seemed to know a lot about other people’s business.’

Charming.

She was quiet again for a long time. Several times Owen opened his mouth to ask if anything was wrong, but shut it again. If they were friends, he’d ask. If they hadn’t kissed, he’d ask. But they weren’t, and they had, so he didn’t.

‘Did you organise those painters?’ she finally blurted out. ‘Three men showed up before we left this morning, saying they’d been hired to paint the interior of my apartment.’

‘Finally!’ He feigned exasperation. ‘The apartment should’ve been painted weeks ago. Frances refused to have it done while she was alive—didn’t want her peace disturbed. She hated having tradesmen of any kind in the place. I’m sorry, I didn’t think to warn you.’

She stared out through the front windscreen, her