Everything but the Baby (Harlequin Superromance) by Kathleen O`Brien

gross?”
    On the other hand, if it was the twins at the door they wouldn’t give up, so she might as well answer it. She pressed down on her curls with both hands and, hoping for the best, made her way barefooted to the door.
    â€œHi.” It was Mark. He leaned his head into the room, scanning the gloom. “Have you been sleeping this whole time?” He smiled. “Did the lovefest wear you out?”
    She nodded. “It was a bit much for me.” She flicked on the overhead light, squinted and waved him into the room. “Compared to this, I’ve lived a pretty quiet life.”
    That was an understatement, of course. She and her father had never talked much. He’d disapproved of chatter about people, which he deemed vulgar and simpleminded. He’d preferred ideas, he said, and he particularly liked politics. But to a teenage girl, the diplomatic crisis of how boy A was going to break up with girl B was the only political issue that counted. By the time Allison was old enough to have anything to say, the pattern of silence had been set.
    She offered Mark the only chair, then sat on the edge of the bed, glad she hadn’t removed more than her shoes before falling asleep. Her hair was a mess, she knew, and probably she’d rubbed her lipstick off on the pillow, but at least she was marginally presentable.
    â€œI think I could have slept for a week. I’m not used to being the center of so much attention. And all that hugging and kissing.” She rubbed sleepy dust from the corners of her eyes. “I’m not used to—”
    She broke off, realizing what that sounded like. But it was true. She wasn’t used to being touched that much.
    â€œI can imagine,” Mark filled in smoothly. “I, on the other hand, am not used to getting so little attention. I bet not a single thing got done in this hotel today. The minute you showed up, it officially became Celebrate Allison Cabot day.”
    She groaned. “I know. It was sweet but so embarrassing. It makes me feel like such a fraud.”
    He laughed. “Why? You’re not the one here under an assumed name. That’s me.”
    â€œIt’s almost as bad. They’re automatically assuming I’m one of them, but I’m not. I’m not comfortable with all that emotional abandon. It feels as if I’ve landed on another planet. I don’t know what to say or what to do.”
    â€œI didn’t hear anyone complaining. They couldn’t stop singing your praises. When they weren’t singing ‘The Rose of Tralee,’ that is.”
    â€œYes, well, today they are probably willing to write off my stiffness as temporary shyness. Wait until they discover it’s not temporary anything. It’s just who I am.”
    She felt hollow. She touched her mother’s ruby ring, which she’d put on to cover the untanned band of skin where her engagement ring used to be. The ring didn’t quite fit. Her mother’s fingers must have been smaller than hers.
    â€œWait until they see how much Cabot blood is in me after all.”
    His gaze flicked from her face to her hand, then back again. “Time will tell, I suppose,” he said mildly. “Meanwhile, if you’re up to it, we should probably formulate our game plan.”
    â€œYes, we should,” she agreed, ordering herself to shake off the ridiculous self-pity. Just that morning she’d feared that the family would reject her and had only dared to hope for a civil reconciliation that might make her feel a little less alone in the world. Now that wasn’t enough? She needed to be one of them?
    Ridiculous. She should be satisfied to know that theO’Haras were loyal and forgiving, and glad to be back on speaking terms. She was in Florida primarily to take care of Lincoln Gray and it was time she turned her attention to that mission.
    â€œI spent the afternoon doing some reconnaissance,” Mark said.