by Kate Thomas
Josh had to death squeeze the paint rag against his orange fingers to keep from reaching for her. He wanted to tease away Dani’s sigh with slow strokes along her satiny skin, to comb his fingers through her hair, then take her mouth with his. Wanted to give her...
What? And would it be enough? Would I be enough?
Tearing his gaze from her sexy, denim-clad legs, Josh took slow, deep breaths until he could say blandly, “Well, now that we’ve set the walls on fire—” and my libido, too, as usual “—don’t you think the rest of the room looks sort of lame?”
So while he cleaned pumpkin-colored drips from the windows and Michael slept off lunch, Dani went into Fallsboro. Brought back rectangles of fabric and pieces of foam—and a timing light and a set of spark plugs, announcing she intended to tune the clunker’s engine.
“Great,” Josh agreed. As long as he could sit with Michael and chat while she worked.
Later that afternoon, after Michael’s high tea feeding, she wrapped the foam in the fabric, knotted here and folded there and—ba-boom!—big, bold pillows lounged on his sofa.
The room instantly looked warmer, more appealing than it ever had.
Huh? Well, Josh wasn’t a complete idiot. Shown the difference between a house and a home, he could see it. Just as he’d learned to appreciate clean clothes—hanging where they could be easily located—and home-cooked meals featuring real food. He knew who was responsible for it all, too.
And who wasn’t.
Clearly, he needed a woman with more than fertility going for her. He needed someone like Dani who understood the mysteries that eluded him, things like ambience and baby moods, aesthetics and emotion.
Why hadn’t he ever realized there was more to life than work? More to raising a child than providing financial support and playing games with him?
He should have. He should have. After his mother’s death, his dad continued to love him and his brothers, of course. Worked from sunup to sundown to feed, clothe and educate them. But the flavor, the richness of life, had died with his mother.
Any baby of his was going to have a loving home. And that could only happen, Josh realized, if he and the baby’s mother loved each other.
For a second, cold panic gripped Josh’s heart as he scraped paint off the windows while Dani fiddled in the garage. She couldn’t possibly love him. What was to love? Hell, every time he tried to help her, she dragged his tail to safety.
As he pushed the blade back and forth over the glass, Josh replayed the kisses they’d shared.
Okay, maybe she wasn’t completely indifferent to him. But exactly how interested was she?
Hmm. He didn’t dare make any blatant moves without some active encouragement, of course, but if he could manage to fit a little careful research into his investment plan....
So the following day, he dragged her—and Michael, of course—off to Alexandria to tour art galleries, poke through antique stores and graciously accept “darling baby” comments on Michael’s behalf.
And he was darling. Undoubtedly, the most adorable infant ever born.
Every day, Michael taught Josh a new appreciation for the beauty and complexity of ordinary life.
And made him want—more and more, if that was possible—to help a baby grow up.
This baby. He wanted to stick with the kid—and the woman—who’d brought him this far. If they’d stay. The six weeks of their agreement were vanishing like smoke in a windstorm.
Well, hell, Walker. You make your living being persuasive. Get to work.
The morning after they bought a painting to hang above the fireplace and a few little knickknack things in the antique stores, Josh announced that he’d been meaning to landscape his postage-stamp backyard but... Turning his palms up, he shrugged as helplessly as he knew how. “I don’t know a thing about plants,” he said, trying to gaze puppylike into her forest-glade eyes.
Luckily, instead of laughing, Dani bought it.
Which earned him a trip to the gardening place, then home to dig holes and mix dirt and sand and—Josh thought he’d better inform his brother that his livestock was leaving a fortune in fertilizer in his pastures.
By dinnertime—the best meat loaf, mashed potatoes and corn on the cob he’d ever tasted—he’d worked up a good sweat and Dani had turned the little strip of grass surrounding his patio into a bright, attractive border of flowers and foliage.
In one area, though, his plan failed completely. Citing Dr. Ravjani, Josh tried to declare afternoons as rest time. Perfect for personal bonding.
Dani refused to cooperate. If she wasn’t at Michael’s beck and call, she was cooking, cleaning, or tinkering with that old clunker. The only way he found to slow her down was to insist she sit down and give him “a potential juror’s” feedback on the Cleveland case.
Good thing he did—she pointed out a huge hole in his argument.
Thursday, after getting Marletta started on filling the hole, he caught Dani sneaking out of the house with some story about needing a part for the damned car.
“You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart!” he roared, fearful her escape attempt was evidence of his plan’s failure. “You promised you’d rest this afternoon. I knew I should sell that thing for scrap,” he grumbled.
“Sc-rap?”
Lordy, when Dani’s green eyes sparkled like that, he had to stuff his hands in his back pockets to keep from reaching for her.
But he had learned something useful from his experience with Carrie.
This time, nobody was getting hurt by premature consummation. If it killed him, he wasn’t kissing her, caressing her, making love with her until they’d thoroughly discussed a more permanent relationship.
There was, however, nothing illegal about imagining intimacy with Dani. Thinking of her slim feminine form, naked, above him, while his hands, his mouth, his body brought her to passion’s peak. And took them both over....
“Do you know how great it could be?”
Huh? Oh... “The car, you mean?” Josh grinned.
“All it needs is some paint and a brake job. That’s why I wanted to check the salvage yard for brake drums.”
Josh let her words flow past him.
Okay. If necessary, he’d try Plan B: find a compatible woman, exchange financial security for a family. But he’d much rather go with Plan A: make love to Dani for the next forty or fifty years and raise Michael as his own.
“Well, could you?”
“Could I what?” Josh frowned. Be a good father? He’d try like hell, was willing to take classes, but...
“Go to the salvage yard and make sure they pull the right drums while I rest?”
Bah, when she chewed on her lip like that, he’d sprout wings and fly around the Washington Monument if she asked him to.
“I wouldn’t know a brake drum from a kettledrum,” he confessed cheerfully. A good plan must be flexible.
So, with a blinding smile, Josh said, “Let’s go together.”
Dani blinked. The man was lethally loaded with charm.
And she was vulnerable to it. To him. Every minute she spent with Josh Walker was dangerous. This week had been the most delicious torture she’d ever endured. They’d joked and laughed and worked and talked and cared for Michael. Together.
Sometimes he’d even look at her with a certain male heat in his summer-sky eyes, making her feel more womanly, more desirable than she’d thought possible.
“Well?” he asked, his legs braced apart, the whole Viking warrior image somehow enhanced by the baby in his arms. “Neither one of us knows a damned thing about cars,” Josh added, hitching Michael higher on his hip and making a silly face for the baby’s benefit, “but we’re willing to learn. Right, kiddo?”
Once again Dani yielded to the temptation to enjoy Josh’s company while she could. She’d be on her own—and lonely soon. Too darned soon.
Nonsense. She’d stay busy giving Michael the loving home and unconditional approval Jimmy never had.
> Single-handedly.
Because, face it, men like Josh Walker were as rare as Dallas debutantes who didn’t like diamonds. And her heart—foolish heart—refused to settle for less.
Then you’re on a collision course with heartache.
But she wouldn’t need willpower to avoid that pain, she reminded herself. Time and distance would cure it for her. In just a couple of weeks she’d be telling Josh goodbye and taking Michael—somewhere. Probably back to Texas, where his grandparents would be close enough to visit.
“Okay,” Dani said, tossing her braid over her shoulder. Until she left Josh’s vicinity, there was no law against enjoying every conversation, cherishing every smile, savoring every kiss. “How soon can you be ready?”
Josh looked at his watch.
Dani looked at the crinkly hair covering his forearm. Which made her think about the dark cloud of same that dusted his massive chest and arrowed down his flat abdomen to foam around his—
Desire, as strong and hot as the Texas sun flooded through her.
Imagine his reaction if you suddenly crossed the room, cupped his hard jaw with both hands and planted a deep, lingering, passionate kiss on him.
The man would probably hurt himself laughing.
“It’s almost time for Michael’s next feeding,” he said. “What say we visit Salvage Land after that?”
As if on cue, the baby emitted his “I’m hungry” cry. “Wow,” Dani commented, lifting Michael from Josh’s arms and heading for the stairs. “You sure know your babies, don’t you?”
Josh’s pleased expression kept her blood fizzing the whole time she nursed her son.
“I still say Michael smiled this afternoon,” Josh said as the phone rang that evening. Since he was happily stuffed to the gills with gingered chicken, glazed carrots and homemade apple pie, his insistence was pretty laconic. Levering himself off the sofa, he added, “Just because the salvage guy has seven kids doesn’t mean he knows anything.”
Dani giggled as she shook her head, sending that braid shivering over her breast—and making Josh hard again. “Sorry, Michael’s still too young. It was just gas.”
Bah. Michael had smiled at their distorted reflections in the shiny wheelcovers while Dani crawled under that wreck to inspect—
As he curled his fingers around the receiver and lifted it to his ear, Josh growled, “He’s advanced for his age. Even the doctor said so during his checkup.
“Walker,” he told the phone absently. He ought to get one of those disposable cameras. Take some pictures before—
No. Think positive. There must be some way to build an airtight case for staying together for Michael’s sake without stumbling into the emotional minefield known as love....
Marletta’s rich contralto came through the line. “This is your lucky day, boy-o.”
“It is?” Josh shook his head ruefully. True, both Dani and Michael had gotten checkups after buying brake drums. The doc had assured Josh that mother and son were doing fine.
That didn’t mean she was going upstairs with him anytime soon. His big, lonely bed would stay that way a while longer. At least until he convinced Dani to settle for respect and admiration—and me.
“Timing is everything,” Marietta informed him smugly. “I just called Elliston Perrodeaux’s office and guess what? The senator’s had a cancellation, so he’ll meet you for dinner tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Josh groaned. A month ago the invitation would have thrilled him.
Now the summons just meant time away from Dani and Michael. Time he didn’t have to lose. “I suppose I’d better see the old goat, then,” he said with a sigh. “When and where?”
Marletta snorted. “Try to contain your enthusiasm, Walker. This is a superb opportunity. Dinner at the Commanders’ Club tomorrow night—just you, the senator and...” Josh gritted his teeth when she paused for dramatic effect. “Your date.”
“Oh, baby—Marletta, give yourself a raise!” The Commanders’ Club was one of those exclusive establishments frequented by Washington movers and shakers. Josh had been there once and in his opinion, the place offered more snobbery from the waitstaff than decent food. But still, his heart thundered with hope. Maybe a taste of so-called glamorous Capitol life would impress Dani. Help her overlook his shortcomings. Forget the past. Agree to stay.
Plan B held no attraction; he wanted Plan A. Dani and Michael. “Double that raise if you can find a baby-sitter.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Marletta retorted. “His Worship’s aide said the senator will meet you in the bar at the Commanders’ Club at eight, so I’ll. be over around seven, seven-fifteen, to meet the little tyke and listen to a million silly instructions from you and the new mom—You are taking Dani, aren’t you?”
“If she’ll go,” Josh muttered before the implication of the rest of his secretary’s speech finally registered. “You’re going to baby-sit?”
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Marletta vowed with a chuckle. “I’ve got to meet the tag team that finally melted the ice around your heart.”
Josh didn’t waste any breath protesting his secretary’s assumptions. “Deal. See ya at seven.”
Hanging up, he went bounding upstairs, looking for Dani, who’d gone to bathe Michael. Nearly kissed her despite his honorable-celibacy intentions when she bought his yacketyyack about needing her company to save the nation’s natural heritage for future whatsits.
Did kiss her when she asked him to baby-sit after Michael’s morning feeding so she could shop for something appropriate to wear.
Once again, Josh saw those exploding galaxies, heard bells ringing.
Still reeling, he settled a towel-wrapped Michael in the crook of his arm and waved her off to work on the brakes or watch TV or whatever. While he lectured himself, probably unsuccessfully, on the virtue of patience.
When Dani came home the next day with a shopping bag and a smirk, Josh wanted her so much, he nearly suggested they can the senator and spend the evening upstairs. In his bed.
Idiot! As if one night with his Texas angel would be enough.
As if he’d risk losing his second chance for—Well, the guy at the salvage yard said seven kids were no more trouble than one.
For a moment Josh thought about Carrie’s betrayal and the price they’d all paid as a result.
Out of that tragedy, he vowed, would come good. His lost child would always live in his memory, would help Josh be a better father.
To Dani’s son. And maybe his own baby, too.
Josh hoped they’d have the same mother.
What if Dani turned him down? Married some other joker?
Red haze exploded around him.
So he called Endicott’s lawyers and rattled their cage for a while. Then he hit the gym and practically tore a biceps lifting weights while he tried to convince himself that he wouldn’t mind as long as the guy treated Dani and Michael okay.
Argued all the way home that, if necessary, he’d father a child with some other woman—who didn’t have green eyes and maple-colored hair.
Argued without success.
That evening, Josh destroyed his bathroom, cut his chin shaving, and turned his bedroom into a landfill getting ready. He used a T-shirt to shine his shoes, dropped it beside a pile of discarded shirts and ties, slipped his wallet in his pocket and his watch over his wrist just as the doorbell rang.
Quickly, Josh glanced in the bathroom mirror. Let’s see, hair combed, correct business dinner uniform: dark suit, white shirt, subdued tie. Okay, Walker, you’re as ready as you’re gonna be.
The doorbell sounded again. His heart started pounding. Tonight he’d exude all the charm, sophistication and erudition he possessed. Impress the hell out of his dinner partner.
He’d also try to be civil to the senator.
Striding to the bedroom door, he nearly tripped over a gym bag and a mound of sweaty workout clothes. Damn, where did this stuff come from?
The doorbell chimed one more tim
e, then another.
“I’m coming,” Josh shouted, shutting the door to his bedroom. He’d clean up that mess tomorrow. If anything, uh, unexpected occurred tonight, it could happen in Dani’s bed. The first time.
Pausing outside her closed door, Josh sure as hell hoped this posh tête-à-tête with the senator would give him the edge he needed. That was really the only reason he’d accepted Perrodeaux’s summons.
If it was up to Josh, they’d stay home, rent a video, watch Michael and go to bed early. Together.
Every night.
“Where’s Michael?” he asked the wooden slab, barely throttling his urge to burst through that closed door and discover the exact nature of Dani’s post-childbirth figure.
“Downstairs in his playpen,” came the muffled reply. “I—I’m almost ready. I just—”
“Take your time,” Josh said. “Marletta’s a little early.” And more than a little curious. no doubt.
He felt like a kid going to the prom, he mused as he cantered down the stairs and opened the front door to admit his secretary.
Then Josh ushered her into the living room so she could meet his baby. “Hey, tiger,” he purred as he lifted Michael from the playpen. “Say hello to the bossiest woman you’ll ever meet.”
“Ahbaaa.”
Josh beamed. “Isn’t he the greatest?”
“Since sliced bread,” Marletta agreed dryly, holding out her hands for the baby. “Come on, precious,” she cooed, waggling her fingers.
“Bevooo,” said Michael, and sort of lurched toward Josh’s secretary.
Just as they completed the baby transfer, Josh heard a footstep on the foyer tile at the base of the stairs.
He spun around. Then just stood there gaping, like a Laplander seeing Miami for the first time.
Was this vision wearing a figure-hugging black dress with a short swirly skirt and tiny rhinestoned straps snaking over her bare, creamy-smooth shoulders his Dani Caldwell? Her legs went on forever. Her maple-colored hair had been subdued somehow, twisted into a knot atop her head.
His hands itched to find and remove whatever restrained it, then thrust themselves into the mass of curls as it tumbled over her—
