The Single Daddy Club Boxed Set

by Donna Fasano

  Katie stiffened in his arms. She resisted him, pushing against his chest. There was confusion in his pale blue eyes when she gazed into them.

  "Is that what this is about?" she asked. "A token of appreciation? 'Cause if that's—"

  "N-no, no, Katie," he stammered, his self-assurance wavering. "I've wanted to be alone with you all day." His mouth pulled down at the corners just a little. "I just thought that would be a good, uh—" he grimaced "—opening line."

  Light laughter bubbled up from inside her.

  "Oh, Jason," she breathed, "I'm so sorry. I've been waiting for you to use a line on me for so long that I didn't see it when it came."

  She relaxed against him and trailed her finger across his jaw. "I really am sorry." Her voice grew feather soft. "So, go ahead, show me."

  The uncertain look in his eye made her feel awful. He'd been the one who had set this wonderfully sensuous moment into motion, and she had ruined it. She had to do something to rectify the problem.

  Leaning over until her lips were a scant inch from his, she whispered, "Please."

  That one tiny word gave him back every ounce of confidence she'd stolen from him.

  His mouth captured hers in a kiss that was startlingly passionate. He hugged her tight, and Katie sank into his loving embrace. His body was rock hard, but she'd never been so comfortable in her life. And when his tongue bid entry into her mouth, she parted her lips and met him with a fervor she never knew existed in herself.

  The heat of his kiss was nearly overwhelming. She heard a sigh escape from one of them, but wasn't certain which of them had uttered it. His mouth moved from her lips to her neck, and Katie felt a delicious tingle radiate across every inch of her skin.

  She heard his breathing, rough and unsteady, as he gently captured her earlobe between his front teeth. Her head relaxed backward, and the tiny kisses he planted at the hairline behind her ear nearly drove her mad with pleasure.

  Although her muscles had gone slack, there was a part of her that remained tense and hot with the desire she was feeling for him. He buried his face in her hair and inhaled, the groan emanating from deep in his chest communicating a fierce, nearly primal, gratification. The fact that he found such obvious enjoyment in something as simple as the scent of her hair, of her skin, made her feel wanted. Erotically so.

  "Jason?"

  The breathless sound of her voice took her by surprise, and she moistened her lips with her tongue.

  It was necessary for her to say his name a second time before she was able to garner his attention. She smiled into his face.

  "I thought you said you didn't have much experience where women were concerned."

  She reached up and smoothed the pad of her thumb across the bewildered frown that had instantly formed on his brow. He obviously had no idea what she was talking about. And the fact that he didn't know he was driving her crazy, the fact that his sensual actions weren't premeditated in any way, but utterly natural and pure, somehow made them even more alluring for her.

  "You're not going to make me explain it, are you?" she asked. The light chuckle that vibrated in her throat teemed with flirtation, and when he remained silent, she grinned at him. "Okay, if you insist."

  Her words inflected overt sexy flirtation. "Your kisses are... how should I say this?" She clamped her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment. "Well your technique is... well, it's perfect is what it is."

  Her compliment embarrassed him, and his gaze dipped and then refocused on her face.

  "I know I told you we should take it slow," he said. "But, Katie, I'm just going to burst if I don't tell you what I'm feeling right now."

  There was tension in each and every angle of his handsome face, and the seriousness in his voice made her soft smile fade into oblivion. He was about to announce something important, she knew without a doubt, and for some unknown reason her stomach began to jitter with sudden nerves.

  "I feel things for you, Katie," he said, "that I've never felt for another woman. Ever. In my whole life."

  Studying his sky blue eyes, she understood what he was saying. It had to do with the other woman who had been in his life, the other woman who had been in his past. And in mentioning her—without actually mentioning her by name—he was revealing the magnitude of his feelings, and he was doing it as tastefully as he knew how.

  Love filled her heart, overflowed it and spilled into her chest, expanding with a heated warmth that was overwhelming. Tears prickled her eyelids, blurring her vision.

  "And, Jason—" the words were so full of emotion that they sounded strained, as though they raked across her larynx "—I feel things for you that I've never felt for another man. Ever."

  What she'd just said was so close to a commitment. But isn't that exactly what she wanted? Isn't that what she'd been hoping for?

  "You're so beautiful," Jason said, softly grazing his knuckles along her jawline. "You're good with Gina. Good for her. And I can't tell you how important that is to me. You're so down-to-earth, Katie. So real, so honest."

  So real? So honest? The short, cruel questions stabbed at her like a well-aimed knife.

  Jason didn't even know who it was he was talking to! He thought she was Katie Smyth, the competent nanny.

  And in reality? In reality, she was someone completely and totally different from the woman she'd led him to believe she was. That's why her subconscious had stirred up these nerves when Jason had become so serious, so intense. Because deep down, in the remote recesses of her brain, she knew she couldn't commit herself to Jason—not when he didn't know who she really was.

  What in the world had she been thinking? Did she really believe that she could become involved with this man and not have to answer to the fact that he didn't even know her real name?

  She'd meant to tell, knew she'd have to, knew she should have before now. But she hadn't found the right time. Who was she kidding? Avoiding the whole issue had just been too easy.

  She couldn't let things go on like this. She had to tell him the truth. Oh, why did he have to start confessing his feelings?

  Come on, now, Katie, she silently chided herself. Don't blame Jason for the predicament you're in. This whole dishonest situation is your fault.

  The smart thing to do would be to just tell him. Open your mouth and unburden yourself. Tell him you're the daughter of a United States congressman—

  Jason kissed one corner of her mouth, then the other. A groan rumbled deep in his chest.

  "Oh, God," he whispered, "I love you, Katie." He tilted her head up toward him and covered her mouth with his.

  She wanted to tell him she loved him, too. She wanted to tell him how desperate and deep her feelings were. But she simply couldn't. Not as Katie Smyth. That would be unfair. The words I love you could only honestly pass the lips of Katherine Anastasia Wellingford.

  She had to tell him the truth. But she was afraid, oh so afraid of losing this wonderful man, of losing this newfound love. The sheer intensity of this fear easily overrode the need for honesty, and like water rolling down a gently sloping hill, her emotions took the path of least resistance.

  It was easy to become lost in his swift, overpowering kiss. Easy to let the feel of his solid body against hers sweep her away until there were no thoughts left to rattle around in her brain. No thoughts at all.

  * * *

  The next morning Jason awoke to the sound of chirping birds. He'd lain there listening to their melodic song, letting it fill him with the cheerful sounds of spring.

  He wasn't one to lounge in bed in the morning, even on Sunday. But he just felt so lighthearted, happy. As he went into the kitchen, he opened the back door, welcoming the sunlight and the warm, flowery-scented breeze before going to fill the coffeepot with water.

  Whistling as he spooned ground coffee into the filter, Jason couldn't help but ponder this good mood he was in. Katie was at the root of it. No doubt about that.

  He walked toward the front of the house, but he didn't see
the carpet or the furniture that was neatly arranged in his living room. No, in his mind's eye was a vivid image of Katie's face as he'd kissed her yesterday at the wedding.

  Those few moments alone with her on the bay had been the most soul-stirring of his entire life. And all he'd done was kiss the woman. Lord knows how he would react if he ever got the chance to actually sleep with her.

  The thought made him pause with his hand on the knob of the front door. Should he be thinking like this? Was it wrong of him to contemplate such a development in their relationship?

  He flipped open his iPad and touched the screen to bring up the daily news.

  What was so wrong with the thought? He was a red-blooded male, wasn't he? Sexual fantasies were only normal. Only natural. Besides, he had the utmost respect for Katie. He loved the woman. He'd even told her so.

  A slow grin spread across his mouth. He was quite proud of the fact that he'd had the guts to actually say the words, to express his feelings for her.

  He pulled two mugs from the cabinet, the sugar bowl, and spoons, the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee heavy in the air.

  Swiping his way through a few of the top news stories of the day, he barely registered what he saw. He couldn't wait for Katie and Gina to wake up. Maybe they could do something special today. Just the three of them.

  When the coffee was ready, he poured himself some and settled into a chair at the kitchen table. Unbidden thoughts of his moments alone with Katie floated through his head. He smiled, the muscles of his face seeming to react to the memory with no help at all from his conscious mind.

  There was one dimming thought, though, he realized. Katie hadn't voiced her feelings for him. Well, that wasn't quite true. She'd professed that she'd never felt for another man what she felt for him. But what was that exactly?

  Jason had to admit it—he'd hoped to hear the "L" word. He'd said it, and he'd wanted desperately to hear her say it too. But then—his smile stretched out on his mouth—after he'd told her he loved her, he hadn't given her the time to speak before he'd laid one on her.

  He grinned and then took a sip of steaming coffee.

  Oh, well... He had a pretty good inclination of how she felt. She hadn't pushed him off the rocks into the bay. The hot, heady passion in her kisses had spoken almost as clearly as words would have.

  Gazing down at the colorful screen of Sunday news, he lifted his mug, intending to take another swallow. But the picture there made every muscle in his body freeze. Coffee sloshed over the rim of the mug, splashing onto the table, and across the cover of his iPad.

  Katie's smiling face stared back at him. He'd never seen her with her hair swept up in such a grand fashion, never seen her wear glittering diamonds like those around her neck and dangling from her ears, but it was Katie all right. He'd spent the past three weeks dreaming of those large, sapphire eyes, that luscious curving mouth, that creamy, sweet-smelling skin.

  But it wasn't Katie's name that was listed in the caption under the picture. A frown bit deeply between his eyes. It wasn't... it wasn't—

  "What the hell is going on?" he muttered, forgetting all about his personal promise not to curse.

  He scanned the article, words and phrases popping out at him like horrible surprises in a shocking nightmare.

  "Missing woman," "last seen wearing," "reward for information."

  "My God—" the words rasped from his throat like the scraping of rusty nails "—she's Congressman Wellingford's daughter."

  Without thinking, he snatched up the iPad and stomped across the kitchen, mindless of the fact that he was dripping a trail of black coffee on the linoleum floor as he went.

  * * *

  He rapped on her bedroom door, and without waiting for her to respond, pushed it open with a bang.

  She bolted upright, sleep-hazed but clearly startled. "What?" she said. "What's wrong?"

  "This," he said, shoving the tablet. "This is what's wrong, Katie." His brows rose sharply. "Or should I call you Katherine?"

  Her blue eyes widened.

  Jason glanced down at the front page and read aloud, '"Katherine Anastasia Wellingford, daughter of Congressman William Wellingford, was last seen by her parents leaving her home in Salisbury. She was wearing a silk, ivory-colored blouse and—"'

  "Stop, Jason. Please. It's me, okay? It's me."

  "Oh, but wait," he said, unable to squelch the sarcasm in his tone. "You haven't heard the best part. Let's see... where is it? 'Although the Wellingfords have not been contacted with ransom demands,'" he continued to read, '"foul play is suspected.'"

  "Oh, no," she breathed.

  He watched her swallow and smooth back her sleep-tousled hair. He stared at her, his gut wrenching with... Hell, he couldn't decide what it was.

  She shook her head and repeated, "Oh, no."

  "Is that all you can say?" The question burst from him like a mini-explosion.

  Her small pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips.

  "I left my parents a note, Jason. I told them I would be okay. That I needed some time." She turned her head to glance out the window. "I just needed a little time."

  "A little time for what? What the hell were you thinking? You drop off the face of the earth, and you think your parents are going to sit back and do nothing?"

  She glanced at him, her eyes shadowed with a strange mixture of bewilderment and apprehension.

  "But I told you—"

  There was something in her voice that pleaded for his understanding.

  "I left them a note."

  "It's been weeks. Nearly a month. Did it ever dawn on you to call them? Did it ever enter your mind to alleviate their fears?" His breath left him in a rush. "Obviously not."

  There was an appeal in her big, blue eyes now. And as Jason looked at her, sitting there in the bed with her soft, golden hair tangled from sleep, with her lush, kissable mouth, her peachy skin, he wondered why he couldn't locate any of his tender emotions.

  The sight of her, all soft and feminine, should have stirred in him some compassion, but all he could think of were her parents. As a father himself, he couldn't imagine the terror of not knowing where his child was, or if she was even safe. The man and woman who had brought Katie into the world must be worried sick about their daughter. Just as he would be stark raving mad if Gina went missing. How in the name of heaven could Katie justify doing such a thing? He just didn't see how there could be an excuse that was good enough to explain her behavior.

  And for her to use his home as a hideout... The very idea made him feel betrayed, deceived.

  "I'm going to ask you again," he insisted, "just what were you thinking? Why would you do such a thing?"

  Again he watched as her tongue darted out to nervously skim across her lips.

  "My dad," she began, then stopped. Her lips pressed together firmly and she looked away.

  She combed her trembling fingers through her hair. Clearing her throat, she then inhaled deeply and started again, "My dad and mom made plans for me. They were pushing me to..."

  A wrinkle creased her brow. She swallowed.

  "...to marry."

  He saw a shiver course down her spine when she said the final word.

  "I couldn't marry Everett. No matter how much they wanted me to. I didn't love him, you see. But in the end, I agreed. I don't know why. They kept pushing and pushing. Promising a big wedding. An expensive honeymoon. A huge house. A wonderful future. They were so certain he was the right man for me."

  She wasn't even looking at him any longer. Her babble was sketchy at best, but Jason got the gist of her explanation.

  "And then Everett—"

  She shifted on the bed, her face growing pink with what Jason guessed to be embarrassment, and it confused him.

  Without completing the sentence, Katie lifted her gaze to his. "I just couldn't marry the man. That's all. I just couldn't." Her tone dropped to a whisper. "I just can't."

  Jason hadn't felt angry up to this point. Betrayed, yes. Lied
to, certainly. And those two things had made his belly burn. But to hear that this woman—this grown woman—had run away from home because she didn't want to get married! She didn't want the big wedding her parents planned for her.

  She didn't want the expensive honeymoon, the huge house. She didn't want the wonderful future.

  "You just have no idea what you've done," he said. "I've been harboring the runaway daughter of a congressman. A United States congressman." He could feel this anger heating his face, his eyes. "Do you know what kind of trouble he could cause me? I'm a law enforcement officer. He could have my job. My livelihood. My God, you have no idea..."

  The sentence trailed, leaving a thick and heavy silence hanging between them.

  "I wouldn't allow my father to hurt you," she told him.

  A sharp bark of laughter erupted from him. "Wouldn't allow?" His eyes grew wide. "It seems to me that you have no control whatsoever over what your father does or doesn't do. From what you said the man has planned your whole life—your husband, your house, your future. And rather than stand up to him, rather than tell him you don't like the choices he's made for you, you choose to just vanish. To hide out like some frightened little girl."

  His words hurt her. He could tell by the way she'd actually winced. Well, it was high time she grew up.

  His gaze narrowed. "Granted, I haven't known you very long, but I never would have guessed that you were a poor little rich girl."

  She gasped, and her mouth opened farther when he stalked to the bed and flung back the covers.

  "You're going to call your parents, Katie." He made a disgusted sound. "Or Katherine. Or whoever the hell you are."

  "I'm Katie, Jason," she said, sudden tears shining in her eyes. "I'm the same Katie you knew yesterday."

  "Well," he told her flatly, "whatever your name is, you're going into the kitchen right now and call your congressman father. You're going to tell him you're okay." He took her by the arm and hauled her to her feet.

  Once she was out of bed, she shook off his hand, glaring at him as her hands clenched into fists. "Don't you manhandle me," she insisted. "Don't you ever put your hands on me again."