The Tycoon's Tots by Stella Bagwell Page B

house. Glancing one last time in the mirror, she assured herself that anything more than jeans would look dressed up for her. Besides, Wyatt Sanders opinion of her looks mattered nothing whatsoever.
    But a few moments later as she opened the door for him, her heart was pattering like a schoolgirl’s on prom night
    â€œGood evening, Wyatt,” she greeted while gesturing for him to come in. “You timed your arrival just right. Aunt Kitty is about to take the rolls out of the oven.”
    He stepped into a living room furnished with comfortable leather furniture. Throw rugs woven in bright southwestern patterns were scattered over the Spanish tiled floor. At one end of the room a small fire was burning in a rock fireplace.
    Smells of good cooking reached his nose, but they didn’t quite drown out the exotic scent of Chloe. Nor did his hunger pains divert his attention from the sight of her.
    The deep red of her sweater suited her coloring, and the black pants, though loose and fluttery, still allowed him a glimpse of a voluptuous figure.
    Suddenly remembering the wine in his hands, he thrust the bottle at her. “I didn’t know what to bring.” He’d been tempted to purchase a bouquet of fresh-cut flowers, but had quickly censured the idea. He wasn’t Chloe’s dinner date. He wasn’t even her friend. “I hope some of your family likes burgundy.”
    â€œWe all like wine,” she assured him. “Thank you.”
    â€œIt’s already getting cool outside, but it feels good in here,” he said, glancing once again at the welcoming fire.
    â€œThe twins like to crawl in this room before bedtime, and I didn’t want the floor to be cold.” She motioned toward the couch. “Have a seat and I’ll go see if Aunt Kitty needs any help.”
    â€œWhere are the twins? In the kitchen?”
    Chloe nodded and he said, “Then I’d like to come with you and say hello.”
    â€œSuit yourself.”
    He followed her down a long hallway. At the end and to the right were a pair of wide, batwing doors. Chloe pushed through them and Wyatt found himself in the kitchen he’d been in two days ago.
    Like then, the room was warm and full of the smells of cooking. The stacks of dirty dishes were gone as was the ironing board, but it was still very cluttered compared to his own kitchen.
    At the sound of their footsteps, Kitty looked up from the salad she was tossing. “Hello, Mr. Sanders,” she greeted.
    Wyatt went over to the woman and offered her his hand. “Hello, Ms.—I don’t believe I caught your last name the other day.”
    She wiped her hand on the front of her apron, then reached to shake Wyatt’s. “No one ever uses my last name. Just call me Kitty.”
    â€œAnd I’d like you to call me Wyatt, if you would.”
    â€œCertainly. And if I seemed rude the other day, I hopeyou’ll forgive me. Learning the twins had an uncle just about floored me. It wasn’t anything personal against you.”
    He waved away her words. “You have nothing to apologize for. This whole thing is—an unusual set of circumstances.”
    That was definitely an understatement, Chloe thought. She placed the bottle of wine on the cabinet counter. “Wyatt followed nfe to the kitchen to say hello to the twins,” she told her aunt.
    Kitty motioned to the other side of the room. “They’re in their playpen.”
    Wyatt looked over to where a playpen had been wedged between a chest-type deep freeze and a Formica kitchen table. The twins were sitting up, facing each other. Scattered around them on the floor of the playpen were several cans of vegetables, a small cooking pot with a.lid and a number of spoons and rubber spatulas. At the moment, Adam was banging one of the spatulas on everything within his reach, including his sister.
    Walking over to the playpen, Wyatt squatted down on his heels to the babies’