скачать книгу бесплатно
The Unexpected Husband
Lindsay Armstrong
Lydia had been thrilled by her temporary assignment on an Australian cattle station, until she came face-to-face with Joe Jordan on her first day! Tough, sexy Joe: the man Lydia's impulsive sister had planned to seduce…Only, Joe made it clear that it was Lydia, not her sister, who intrigued him. And he wanted to do more than work with her, he wanted to marry her! Joe's passion overwhelmed and excited Lydia, but did he just want a convenient wife?
“There’s only one way to find out if we’re soul mates, Lydia.
“And that,” Joe continued, “is to get a bit closer.”
Lydia went to stand up, but stilled as he spoke again.
“You opened your heart just a little to let me kiss you, because you couldn’t help it. Then you closed all channels of communication like a clam.”
She licked her lips. “Perhaps it’s the only way I feel I can handle you, Joe.”
She saw his gaze narrow. “Then may I take another approach?” Joe said consideringly. “Having once kissed you without your permission—”
“Joe Jordan, kiss me before I change my mind!” she advised.
Legally wed, but he’s never said…
“I love you.”
They’re…
The series where marriages are made in haste…and love
comes later….
Look out for our next great
Wedlocked! title.
Coming soon!
The Unexpected Husband
Lindsay Armstrong
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER ONE
‘OF COURSE I don’t want to go to bed with you!’ Lydia Kelso said.
Joe Jordan stared at the woman who had just rejected his offer with such stinging contempt, and he registered mental surprise tinged with amusement. Surprise because Lydia Kelso was as different from her sister as chalk from cheese…
She had an unruly mane of sun-streaked dark fair hair that looked as if she didn’t bother to torture it into any kind of style. Her skin was smooth and her eyes a deep velvety blue. Whilst she didn’t have immediately turn-your-head kind of looks, that lovely skin, the delicately cut yet severe pair of lips, as well as her stunning eyes, redeemed her to a rather unusual attractiveness. She wore no make-up at all.
Her neck was long and elegant—so was the rest of her: tall and almost boyishly rangy beneath a pinstriped navy trouser suit she wore with black leather loafers. Her shoulders were straight and her hands were narrow yet capable-looking, with short, unpainted nails, and she wore a man’s signet ring on the little finger of her left hand and a man’s watch.
Whereas her sister Daisy was drop-dead gorgeous, with dark hair, true violet eyes and a sensational figure…
He shrugged, raised an ironic eyebrow at Lydia Kelso, and murmured, ‘I asked because that was the proposition your sister put to me when we first met. I thought it might run in the family.’
‘You should never generalise about people, even when they come from the same family, Mr Jordan,’ she said coldly.
‘Does that mean you don’t approve of your own sister?’ he asked wryly.
Lydia took a breath and subsided somewhat. Then she moved her hands and decided to be honest. ‘I don’t approve of you,’ she said flatly.
‘We’ve only just met,’ he pointed out, with open amusement in his eyes now.
‘Your reputation precedes you, however, so—’
‘All right.’ He sat up straighter and reached for his pen. ‘Tell me exactly what you know about me, Lydia Kelso. We may then be able to sort the wheat from the chaff.’
Lydia looked around Joe Jordan’s colourful studio and reflected that she could have been outmanoeuvred. At the same time she took in the posters on the wall, the books and magazines overflowing from a whole wall of honey pine bookshelves, the polished timber floor with a slightly ruckled rug in jewel-bright ruby swirls on a yellow background. There were two computers on the table behind him, an easel, a skylight above, and a particularly healthy Kentia palm flourishing in a wicker basket in one corner.
Then she looked back at him across the wide expanse of his untidy desktop, saw the challenge in his eyes and stiffened her spine.
All the same, it took her a few moments to compose her mental processes. Because it had been one thing to think dark thoughts about this man in his absence, but being confronted by him, and suddenly able to see what Daisy had obviously seen in him, made it a slightly different matter.
He wasn’t, as she’d expected, to-die-for handsome. On first impressions, that was. She found herself amending the thought. He had thick, straight sandy-brown hair, hazel eyes, a smattering of freckles, and golden hairs glinted on his arms beneath the rolled up sleeves of his khaki bush shirt as a mote of sunlight came in through the skylight. He wore his bush shirt with blue jeans and brown desert boots.
So what was it? Well, he was tall enough—tall enough even for her. Lean, yes, but with wide shoulders, well-knit…
A smile touched her mouth as she wondered exactly what that meant. If it meant all in proportion, with a well-balanced look and the hint of smooth, easy strength beneath his outline, that was exactly the impression Joe Jordan gave. But he was also—interesting, she decided. In a way that was hard to define. You couldn’t help gaining the impression that here was a man it could be exciting to know, especially if you were a woman…
She shook her head, reminded herself of his offer to take her to bed although they’d only just met—her blue eyes blazed at the memory—and said, ‘We all know how clever you are, Mr. Jordan. One of the better known cartoonists in the country, but—’
‘Why would you hold that against me, assuming it’s true?’
‘Because you have the ability to make people look stupid?’ she countered sweetly.
‘Only when they deserve it,’ he responded mildly.
‘Ah, but who’s to say your judgement of whether they deserve it or not is always accurate?’
Joe Jordan frowned and sat forward. ‘Have I offended someone you know?’
‘No. But you can’t deny it would be possible.’ Lydia gazed at him seriously.
He shoved a hand through his brown hair, leaving it standing up in spikes. ‘And that’s cause to disapprove of me in regard to your sister?’ he queried sardonically.
‘That’s cause for me to have reservations about you, Mr Jordan,’ Lydia said precisely. ‘It’s your playboy reputation I fear in regard to my sister. Can you deny that you’re often seen escorting beautiful women around?’
‘Lydia, you wouldn’t be a tad jealous of your very lovely and feminine sister, by any chance?’ he asked smoothly. ‘This—’ he gestured towards her, managing to convey that she wasn’t particularly feminine ‘—has the taint of sour grapes about it, if you’ll forgive me for saying so.’
Lydia smiled with genuine amusement. ‘Not in the slightest, Joe! I hope that doesn’t disappoint you. But the fact of the matter is, my sister has plans that you may be unaware of, plans that might not feature on your agenda at all.’
‘Such as marriage plans,’ he said wearily. ‘Look, I can—’ But he stopped at the sudden look of searing contempt in Lydia’s eyes.
‘You can—take care of yourself?’ she suggested gently. ‘I’m sure you can.’
‘Bloody hell,’ he muttered, and rubbed his jaw. ‘Daisy and I have made no commitments whatsoever, Miss Kelso,’ he added. ‘So if you’re imagining I’ve led her up the garden path, you’re wrong,’ he finished flatly, then frowned. ‘Isn’t she your older sister?’
‘Daisy is twenty-nine going on nineteen. I’m twenty-six. What you may not understand, Mr Jordan, and I can’t blame you for this, is…’ Lydia paused and wondered how best to explain.
‘Do go on, I’m agog,’ he murmured with considerable irony.
‘OK. Our father is a poet. Our mother, a pianist, died when we were little and we were raised by an aunt. She’s my father’s sister and she’s a sculptress—’
‘An artistic family,’ Joe Jordan commented, looking only one step away from utter boredom as he doodled desultorily. ‘Daisy plays the violin—I can’t wait to find out what you do, Miss Lydia Kelso! Wrestle the double bass?’
‘Oh, I’m quite different,’ Lydia said flippantly. ‘I’m a vet.’
She had the satisfaction of seeing sheer surprise in his hazel eyes. He said slowly, now looking at her rather intently, ‘So? Where does all this lead?’
‘I’m the only one of the family who is not in the least artistic and happens to have her feet planted squarely on the ground.’
‘Are you saying your whole family is mad?’ He blinked at her.
‘Not at all. But I can’t deny they can be quite—eccentric and naive at times, then madly passionate at others, and, well, given in those moments to doing some rash things. Otherwise they’re warm and wonderful and I would kill rather than see them get hurt.’ Lydia folded her hands in her lap and looked at him serenely.
‘What…’ Joe Jordan could have killed himself for the slightly nervous way he said the word ‘…um—rashness has Daisy concocted towards me? I gather that is the problem?’
Lydia smiled at him. ‘At least you’re quick on the uptake, Mr Jordan. I’ll tell you. She’s decided to have your baby, with or without the benefit of wedlock.’
Joe Jordan’s jaw dropped involuntarily, although he snapped it shut immediately. But before he could utter the cynicism he was prompted towards—I’ve heard that one before!—Lydia went on.
‘At the moment she’s rather in favour of out of wedlock, I have to tell you. I think she looks at herself and sees Jodie Foster, Madonna—there are quite a few famous single mums around—and when you’re as devoted to your career as Daisy is, it’s certainly easier if you only have a child to worry about. She also adores kids, and although twenty-nine is not old, she’s not getting any younger.’
‘Why me?’ Joe Jordan asked faintly, after a long pause.
Lydia smiled quite warmly at him this time. ‘You should feel complimented. She’s gone into it very seriously, so she tells me, and she feels that you may contribute the brains she—not exactly lacks, but you’re obviously very clever.’
Joe Jordan stood up and planted his fists on the desk. ‘I said this before but—bloody hell! So that’s why she suggested going to bed when…’ He let the sentence hang unfinished in the air, and had to suffer Lydia Kelso looking at him with obvious sympathy—something that annoyed him all the more. ‘Are you sure you’re not making all this up?’ he said then, through his teeth.
‘Quite sure.’
‘What if I did decide to marry her?’
‘I’d be only too relieved, Mr Jordan,’ Lydia said sincerely. ‘Provided you love her, of course. She really needs someone to look after her, especially if she has a child, and I can’t always be there. You know, she’d make a wonderful wife.’
‘How can you say that?’ he demanded bitterly. ‘You’ve just led me to believe she’s as mad as a March Hare! Something the whole Kelso clan could suffer from, if I’m not mistaken, despite your assertion to the contrary,’ he added pointedly.
‘Look,’ Lydia responded coolly, ‘it’s not that I approve, necessarily, but it’s a choice a lot of women are making—and not because they’re mad but because they deem it a viable option in today’s society, where women can aspire to having careers and continuing to have them instead of retreating to the kitchen sink once they start a family.’
‘Go on,’ he ordered tersely.
She shrugged. ‘Some can cope with it, but I don’t think Daisy would be one of them. And, whilst a lot of mistakes you make in the heat of the moment can be corrected, a fatherless child is not one of them.’
Joe Jordan sat down, propped his chin in his hands and considered that this rangy twenty-six-year-old girl knew how to pack her punches. She shot from the hip and was unusually mature, perhaps. ‘You said you didn’t necessarily approve—apart from Daisy. Why not?’
‘I happen to believe a child needs both its parents. Of course it can’t always be helped, as in my own case. And it’s not that being a natural parent makes one automatically a perfect parent. But at least if you have kinship with a child it has to help.’
Joe raised his eyebrows thoughtfully. ‘It so happens I agree with you. Nor would I countenance being used as a stud. Do you happen to know whether Daisy intended to put me in the picture? Or did she plan to disappear out of my life with a little bundle of joy I was never to know about?’
‘It’s the one thing that’s causing her a bit of a problem,’ Lydia said gravely. ‘Well, there are two. While she feels she may be in love with you, she can’t be sure that you are with her. If you were, then I’m sure she’d abandon all this nonsense.’
‘I’m speechless,’ Joe Jordan remarked with considerable feeling.
‘Would you like to tell me exactly what you do feel for Daisy?’ Lydia suggested.
‘No! That is,’ he corrected himself irritably and ironically, ‘I have no intention of marrying her. I have to be honest. Or anyone at the moment,’ he said moodily. ‘But—look, this has been a light-hearted—I couldn’t even call it an affair. She was the one who…dammit!’ He glared at Lydia.
‘Well, now you know why. But you must have liked her? Or do you pop into bed with every woman who indicates they’re willing?’ She eyed him innocently.
He swore, seriously this time.
Lydia waited, looking absolutely unruffled.
He gritted his teeth. ‘I like her. She’s fun to be with, she’s extremely decorative, but…’ He groped for the right words, then sighed savagely.
‘You don’t miss her when she’s not there?’
He narrowed his eyes. ‘Is that a true test? You sound as if you…know what you’re talking about.’
‘I got married when I was twenty,’ Lydia said quietly. ‘We had a year together before he was drowned in a boating accident. That’s how it happened for me. He was always on my mind. Tucked into the background at times, yes, but always there.’
Joe Jordan swallowed visibly and looked discomforted.
Lydia went on before he could formulate any words. ‘Please don’t feel you need to apologise for anything you may have implied. Nor did I tell you to make you uncomfortable—’
