Mail-Order Millionaire Read Online Free Page B

left to call, but she had nothing else to do, no reason to put it off except she didn’t want him listening in on her conversation.
    She punched in the numbers slowly. “Listen, Ariel, I’m stuck in some bad weather so I won’t be back till later.”
    “Morning,” Max said from across the room. “At least until morning.”
    “Where are you? Who’s that with you?”
    “I’m at the weather station and that’s the weatherman.”
    “If he’s the weatherman, how come he didn’t know about this bad weather?”
    “I’ll ask him that. And I’ll be back tomorrow.” Whatever happened she didn’t want Ariel to worry. She’d gotten herself into this mess and she’d get herself out.
    “You’re spending the night with the weatherman?” Ariel’s voice went up a notch. “You don’t even know him.”
    “That’s right, but I have no choice. I’m fogged in on top of Mount Henry.”
    “Well, is he really extra large?”
    Miranda’s gaze wandered to the tall man with the very broad shoulders who was putting his jacket on at the door. He was large all right. But she couldn’t tell her sister that.  And if she ever found out he had money too she’d never quit. “Uh...I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Bye now.” She handed the phone back to Max. “Can I help bring in the boxes?”
    He shook his head. “Take off your jacket and boots. Turn up the heat and make yourself at home. When I get the food in here, we’ll talk about dinner.” A rush of cold wind blew in before he slammed the door after him.
    Miranda stood in the middle of the room, staring at the heavy storm door. She was stuck overnight in a forty-foot square room with huge windows on four sides, storage cabinets and a desk, but with no visible kitchen or bathroom. The man seemed harmless, but how could she tell? She had no instincts for judging men, that was Ariel’s specialty. What would they do here until dark, and more important, what would they do after dark? She gave a little shiver as the wind and fog swirled around the building. And braced herself for a long winter’s evening.

 
Chapter Two
     
    “You’ve got some questions to answer.”
    Miranda whirled around at the sound of his voice. She’d taken off her jacket and her boots, turned up the heat and taken herself on a tour of Maxwell Carter’s weather station, from the tiny kitchen hidden behind a wall of shelves to the bathroom that looked like a storage closet. She’d just taken a sip of her sherry when he suddenly appeared at the door. Setting her glass on a table, she hurried to take the top two boxes from the stack he was carrying. She followed him through the narrow doorway to the kitchen, set the boxes down and looked up inquisitively. “Questions?”
    Max surveyed her from the top of her honey-blond hair to her lightweight hiking boots, his eyes lingering on the baggy oatmeal sweater that only hinted at the curves underneath, and forced himself to think about dinner. A subject that had been uppermost on his mind until he saw her get out of the tractor. Now his mind was preoccupied with questions he wanted to ask her. First, was she really wearing long underwear? If so, it must be very thin and very formfitting, and he knew exactly how she’d look in it after studying the catalog so carefully.
    Inwardly shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he said, “Questions? Oh, yes. What do you like, crayfish etouffee or shrimp gumbo?” He stacked the boxes on the counter and slit open the one on top.
    She leaned over to read the label. “Louisiana Seafood. You weren’t kidding. You’re really going to make one of those things.”
    “Of course. You didn’t think meteorologists lived like savages, did you? We’re more dependant than most people on certain creature comforts like good food.”
    “I didn’t really think about them at all until a few days ago, and now...”
    “And now you wish you’d never heard of them. Which brings me to question number two. Why in God’s name