Bundle of Joy Read Online Free Page A

industrial-strength air conditioning unit made it seem even colder than it was--and that was saying something.
    "Moron," muttered Caroline from the safety of her spot near the fur coats.
    "Ditzy blonde," growled Charlie from his position by the door. Neither acknowledged the other's words or, for that matter, the other's presence in the growing-smaller-every-minute store room. The clock on the wall showed 6:59. And then it showed 7:00. "I feel like I've been here for eons," said Caroline, more loudly this time.
    "Solitary confinement would be easier than this," said Charlie, equally loud.
    "A sophisticated adult would have inquired about a timed lock system."
    "Bull," said Charlie, determined to let her know exactly how he felt about sophisticated adults. "Anybody with a brain would have a fail-safe system for emergencies."
    Caroline lifted a patrician brow in his direction. "And, pray tell, how many emergencies does one encounter in a fur vault?"
    "Can the Princetonese, Bradley, and give me a hand." He hunkered down and began prying away at the base of one of the door hinges.
    "You'll never be able to move it like that," said Caroline, glancing at her brand-new French manicure. Fifty dollars and two hours about to go down the drain. "You need tools."
    "Right," said Charlie, "and I'm using the ones I have." He waved those big hands of his in her face and Caroline gulped at the sheer power they represented. "Now give me some help." He paused, his own gaze resting on her perfect fingernails. "That is, unless you'd rather spend the night with me."
    "Move over," said Caroline, "and let's get this damn door open."
     
    #
     
    Seven o'clock became eight.
    Eight o'clock gave way to nine.
    And by nine-fifteen it had become crystal clear to even the most pigheaded of optimists that an escape hatch was just not in the cards.
    Charlie sank to the ground and held his head in his hands. Caroline thought his posture a bit extreme but then who was she to talk? The notion of spending the next twelve hours in his company had her teetering on the verge of tears.
    "This is terrible," she said, her voice breaking on the last word. "We're trapped and it's all because of you...."
    Charlie looked up, about to fire off a wisecrack in his own defense, when he caught the glisten of tears in her eyes. She looked so pathetic standing there next to him. So delicate. So female .
    Now hold on a minute. That was dangerous thinking. She might look like a porcelain doll, but she packed one hell of a wallop. Remember that, he warned himself. Even if she was remarkably curvy beneath her t-shirt and tight jeans. Even if her big cornflower blue eyes looked wide and vulnerable.
    Even if he felt an answering stir deep inside him, that primitive male urge to comfort and protect.
    Just remember that the ultra-feminine, extremely pretty Caroline Bradley swung her fists first and asked questions later.
    Still it took Donohue until nearly ten p.m. to convince himself to stay on his side of the makeshift fur vault.
     
    #
     
    And as for Caroline, she was deeply immersed in self-pity, wondering what sin she'd committed to deserve a fate like this. In her darkest nightmares, she'd never imagined anything as dreadful as being locked in her own store with Charlie Donohue for company. That is, if you wanted to consider his presence as company. The two of them hadn't exchanged a civil word since he first walked through her front door. If only Sam had kept her matchmaking nose out of Caroline's life and let Murphy help unload the furs into the storage room. Only a crazy person would have thought putting Caroline and the O'Rourke's short order cook together alone in close quarters was a stroke of romantic genius. Not that Sam had intended for them to be locked together like this, but sometimes fate had plans that mere mortals would never understand.
    Caroline cast another surreptitious look in Donohue's direction, doing her best not to notice the interesting play of muscles