Peekaboo Baby

by Delores Fossen

  Her head whipped up, and she reached for his shoulders. Reversing their positions, she pushed him against the wall. While she didn’t stop him from touching her in the most intimate way, she launched into some intimacies of her own.

  She went after his zipper. And succeeded. No fumbling. She got it right the first time. Those agile fingers bypassed his boxers and slid right over his erection.

  Ryan cursed and considered begging for mercy. But it didn’t seem as if she were in a mercy-giving mood. She obviously wanted him hot and fully aroused.

  Which is exactly what he was.

  “Enough of this,” he grumbled.

  He didn’t even consider logic or logistics. He launched them forward. Most of her body landed on his desk, and he landed on her.

  With his blood raging, and his heartbeat thundering, he dragged her pj’s bottoms and panties off her. While he was doing that, Delaney freed him from his boxers. They didn’t waste any time. Frantically, they latched on to each other. As if even a second was too long to be apart. It was with that same frantic energy that Ryan entered her. Sliding deep into the welcoming heat of her body.

  “Yes,” she whispered. Not just a sound of triumph. But more. Much more.

  Ryan heard himself echo the same response, and for a too brief moment before the primal demands took over, he realized that everything about this, about her, was yes. Delaney was the opposite of barriers. The antithesis of the pain and sorrow he’d felt for so long.

  She was his hope.

  He couldn’t hold back the need any longer so he began to move. To take them to the only place they wanted to go.

  He captured her gaze, because he wanted to watch her. Ryan fought through the clawing need to claim and possess so he could see exactly what this did to her. It didn’t matter that he felt his own body going over, as well.

  Face-to-face. Body to body. Wet skin whispering against wet skin. Him, inside her. Moving. Clutching. Gripping. Sliding. To a frantic, feverish pace. Until neither of them could hold back any longer.

  Ryan felt her surrender. Not with the desperate need they’d taken each other, but a gentle, sweet surrender.

  “Ryan,” she said.

  Just his name.

  And that was enough.

  For him to let go and follow her.

  “DID WE SURVIVE?” Delaney asked, and it wasn’t a totally rhetorical question. Her body was still humming, and the whole experience with Ryan had been so wonderful, so incredible, that it had a dreamlike feel to it.

  But yes, she was fairly certain they’d survived.

  Ryan chuckled. Lazy and slow. The sound of an exhausted but satisfied man. He looked it. His hair was rumpled, as were his clothes, and he was smiling.

  Delaney was sure she was doing some smiling of her own. She was damp with sweat, her heart was still racing, and her breath was minutes away from being level. Ryan’s weight was still on her, a pleasant sensation in itself. But that pleasantness and the afterglow of great sex couldn’t completely negate the reality that she was darn uncomfortable.

  She fumbled beneath the small of her back and finally located the culprit responsible for her discomfort. A stapler remover.

  “Sorry,” Ryan mumbled. He lifted himself off her and caught her arm to help her up. “I should have taken you to bed.”

  Delaney glanced at the disarray on both the desk and them. “I doubt we would have made it. We were in a bit of a hurry.” She winced at the cramp in her leg and located her pj’s bottoms. She didn’t bother putting on her underwear first. With that cramp, she’d probably fall. Not exactly the dignified end to a passionate bout of lovemaking. Instead, she slipped on her pj’s and crammed her panties in her pocket.

  Beside her, Ryan fixed his clothes. When he was done he slid his arm around her waist, hauled her to him and kissed her. Really kissed her. “Sleep with me.”

  Amused, she looked up at him. “I just did.”

  “No. Sleep with me. In my bed. So I can hold you all night.”

  Delaney realized she needed that probably almost as much as he did. She nodded.

  That was the green light he’d apparently been waiting for, because he got her moving out of his office and to his bedroom. Delaney knew the way, since the nursery was sandwiched in between Ryan’s and her suites. But with each step, the reality continued to emerge.

  And that reality began to haunt her.

  She stopped in the doorway of his room. It was impressive, as was the rest of his house. At least triple the size of a normal bedroom and tastefully decorated in monochromatic shades of pale green.

  “I have a security monitor next to my bed,” he let her know. “So we’ll still be able to keep an eye on Patrick.” He stopped when she didn’t enter, and looked back at her. “This wasn’t mine and Sandra’s room.”

  She hoped she didn’t look too relieved. But she was. Delaney went to him. Into his arms. And he pulled her to the bed.

  It felt perfect.

  Well, almost.

  His arms were warm and strong, and Delaney even felt comfort in the steady beating of his heart next to hers. But what she didn’t feel was the certainty of what all of this meant. Ryan wanted her, she didn’t doubt that, but he also wanted his son. And even though they’d just made love, she couldn’t be sure that she was here in his bed because of their lovemaking.

  And that made her wonder just how far Ryan would go to keep Patrick.

  She didn’t question the sincerity of what had just happened between them. No. He couldn’t have faked that. But maybe he was lying to himself. Maybe he’d approached this as he approached many of his business deals. And in the ultimate scheme of things, he would definitely need to win her over to pave the way to keep his son.

  In a sense, it was the most important deal he’d ever make.

  “Don’t doubt what just happened between us,” he whispered, as if reading her mind. Or maybe he was simply reading her body language. Because she realized her muscles had tensed. He brushed a kiss on her forehead.

  “I won’t,” she promised.

  But Delaney knew in her heart that it wasn’t true.

  She did doubt it.

  Heaven help her, she did.

  Chapter Fourteen

  While he waited for Quentin’s call, Ryan sat at the desk in his office and went over his notes, again. Not that he was sure it would help to review their three suspects and the havoc that at least one of them had caused.

  No. it probably wouldn’t help.

  But since neither the police nor Quentin had been able to find any physical evidence to link Richard Nash, Emmett Montgomery or Bryson Keyes to the attempts on Delaney’s and his lives, then maybe he’d get lucky and find something in the notes he’d been compiling.

  First, there was the road incident that had landed Delaney and him in the ditch. If Richard Nash had been following his daughter and had been upset about her visit to the estate, then he could have been enraged enough to cause what happened. Plus, he had no alibi.

  But then, neither did Keyes or Montgomery.

  Still considering that, Ryan got up from his desk and walked to the window. Other than a few puddles on the road, there was no sign of the storm that had hit the night before. A direct contrast to the storm going on inside him. His personal life seemed to be coming together.

  Seemed to be.

  But even with his doubts in that particular area, it was Delaney and Patrick’s safety that was causing the emotional turbulence. Every second that he’d held Delaney in his arms, every moment of their night together, only made the turmoil worse. Because the more he cared about Patrick and her, the more he feared losing them.

  The phone rang. Ryan was too antsy to stay seated, so he stood and pressed the speaker function.

  “Good afternoon,” Quentin greeted.

  “Is it?” Ryan countered.

  “I’d say so. We’ve got a solid lead on Dr. Keyes.”

  Finally.

  “The police don’t know about this
lead yet,” Quentin explained.

  “Good.” Ryan wanted first crack at him. “Where is he?”

  “That’s the not-so-good news, boss. Judging from the paper trail we picked up, he’s at a hotel in downtown San Antonio. He appears to be draining his accounts so he can make a run for it. However, he just checked into the hotel last night. Before that, he was staying at Hideaway Lake.”

  Ryan was already reaching for his jacket, and for the Glock in his desk drawer, but the mention of that resort stopped him in mid-reach. And he cursed. Hideaway Lake was less than fifteen miles from his estate.

  On the same side of his property where those shots had been fired.

  “Don’t even think about going after him,” Quentin warned. “This is exactly what you pay me to do, and I’m already on the way to see him. Besides, there’s no way you can question him objectively.”

  While the argument was good, it didn’t convince Ryan to back off. Keyes probably had answers as to what was going on, and those were answers Ryan wanted. Now. He grabbed his jacket, shoulder holster and Glock.

  At that exact second Delaney walked into his office.

  Not alone, either.

  She had Patrick with her.

  During the short time she’d been at the estate, Ryan had learned that she was a casual-clothes kind of person. Today was no different. She had on well-worn snug jeans and a simple stretchy top that was the same tropical green as her eyes.

  Eyes that showed a lot of fatigue.

  The stress was no doubt catching up with her, even though she managed to eke out a smile.

  “Did you hear me, boss?” Quentin asked. “I should be the one talking to Keyes. This isn’t a good time for you to be out and about. You’ve got responsibilities there.”

  Since his security manager obviously didn’t know that Delaney was in the room, listening, Quentin had no idea just how accurate and timely his remark was.

  Hell.

  Ryan shoved the Glock back into his desk and draped his jacket over his chair. This was not the time for a hot head. He needed to stay calm. And he needed to be at the estate. If he left to meet with Keyes, he could be leaving both Patrick and Delaney in a more vulnerable position.

  “Keep me posted, Quentin,” Ryan instructed him, and he pressed the button to end the call.

  “You found Dr. Keyes?” Delaney immediately asked. She shifted Patrick from her arms to her hip.

  “Yes.” Ryan left out the part about how close Keyes had been. Too close. Which meant the doctor had been in the proverbial catbird seat.

  Close enough to strike.

  And maybe the doctor had done just that.

  “So if Keyes is the one and Quentin can get him to talk, this might all be over soon,” Delaney summarized.

  Ryan settled for a nod, and because Patrick was fussing and squirming, he walked to them.

  Delaney handed Ryan a bottle. “I thought you might like to feed him.”

  He eyed the bottle, his obviously hungry son and even the blue bib Patrick was wearing with his overalls.

  “Come on,” she coaxed. She nudged Ryan toward his chair, had him sit and deposited Patrick into his arms. “It’s a great way to get your mind off other things.”

  Patrick stared up at him. His son was obviously skeptical. He had a you-don’t-have-a-clue-what-you’re-doing look in his baby blues. The expression had Ryan smiling. And relaxing a little. He relaxed even more when he touched the bottle to his son’s mouth. That was the only impetus Patrick needed to start gobbling down his afternoon meal.

  It was a first. Feeding his son. Adam had never been quite healthy enough for Ryan to experience such things. And this experience put a lump in his throat.

  “Thank you for this,” Ryan told her.

  “Don’t thank me yet. Next on the list is diapering practice. He has a tendency to pee during the process, and his aim is remarkably good. Think the geyser at Yellowstone, and you’ll have an idea of what you’re up against.”

  Ryan pretended to be disgusted, but it was yet another reason to thank Delaney. The feeding, the diapering, just the fact she was there with him now—she was including him in Patrick’s life.

  But not hers.

  No.

  Like Patrick, Ryan didn’t have any trouble interpreting the look in her eyes.

  After having wild sex with her on his desk, he’d thought Delaney and he were moving forward in their relationship. And it seemed that way when she accompanied him to his bed. But then in the morning, she’d pulled away. Heck, she was pulling away now. He could feel it despite the frequent smiles and the reassuring tone.

  “Lena said you got a call from your father this morning,” he commented.

  “Oh. That.” She propped her hip against the edge of his desk and stared down at Patrick. “Nothing to tell. Same old stuff. He’s angry. He wants me to help him get revenge, and so on and so on.”

  “He’s knows you’re staying here?”

  “He knows.” She paused, blew out a weary breath. “I called an attorney a little while ago and asked him to look into the procedures for having my father’s mental stability evaluated. That’s the first step to having him committed.”

  It was a good first step, but it didn’t solve their problems. Ryan needed Richard Nash out of the picture now. If Keyes or Montgomery was the culprit, he didn’t want an irate Nash to join in either doctor’s effort to do Delaney and him in.

  Patrick grunted softly, kicked, and nudged Ryan’s stomach with his elbow. That drew Ryan’s attention back to him. His son was greedily drinking the milk, but some of it was streaming out of the corner of his mouth, down his chin and onto the sleeve of Ryan’s shirt.

  Delaney leaned in and used the corner of Patrick’s bib to wipe it away. “Wait until next month when he starts eating rice cereal. He should be able to make a real mess with that. My advice? Stick to washable cotton clothes, or your dry-cleaning bill will skyrocket.”

  “Does that mean you’ll be here next month?” But Ryan instantly regretted the question.

  Delaney flinched.

  “Sorry,” he said. He waited to see if she would reassure him that his apology wasn’t necessary, but she was silent. “Do I also need to apologize for making love to you last night?”

  “No.” Thankfully, she said it quickly, and it sounded sincere. “Last night was wonderful. The best ever for me.”

  “But?”

  She lifted her shoulder. “I know you’re trying hard to make this work, but you’re not in love with me, Ryan. No, don’t,” she added when he opened his mouth. To say what exactly, he didn’t know. But Ryan wouldn’t have let that comment stay too long between them.

  Delaney pressed her fingers to his mouth. “That wasn’t my way of trying to put you on the spot. Truth is, I don’t really want to talk about it.” She glanced down at Patrick and forced a smile. “You can put him down for his nap once he’s finished. I need to get some work done while we wait to hear from Quentin.”

  She made it three steps to the door.

  “You’re not in love with me, either,” Ryan pointed out.

  She stopped and paused before she eased back around. Ryan was more than a little surprised by what he saw there. Not a quickly delivered agreement.

  Perhaps not an agreement of any kind.

  “Delaney?” he questioned.

  She simply shook her head. Not necessarily a denial of her feelings though. “Everything is mixed up right now. It’s best if we just back away from each other.”

  Ryan didn’t agree, but he decided it wasn’t a conversation he should have with Patrick in his arms. It would have to wait. But not for long.

  The intercom buzzed a second before he heard Lena’s voice. “You have visitors at the gate. It’s Emmett Montgomery and Bryson Keyes, the doctors from the New Hope clinic.”

  Delaney pressed her hand to her chest, as if to steady her heart, before she hurried across the room and took Patrick. She also took the bottle so that Ryan could turn on the s
ecurity feed.

  There they were.

  Dr. Emmett Montgomery was behind the wheel. Keyes was in the passenger seat. And Montgomery’s face was almost the same gray color as his sleek car.

  “Tell Mr. McCall it’s urgent that I speak to him,” Montgomery said, his voice shaking. He fired several nervous glances around him.

  “Well?” Lena asked. “Should the guards let them in?”

  Ryan considered that, but it didn’t take long for him to realize he didn’t want either of the men anywhere on the estate. He was about to redirect the audio so he could tell them that, and question the two, but Montgomery beat him to the punch.

  “Mr. McCall?” the doctor said, staring right into the surveillance camera. “You have to let us in. Please.”

  Ryan started to answer, but Delaney beat him to it.

  “And why would we want to do that?” she countered.

  The doctor stared into the camera. “Because I have some information that you and Mr. McCall need to hear. I know who’s trying to kill you.”

  With that, Montgomery turned his accusing gaze directly at Bryson Keyes.

  DELANEY INSTINCTIVELY clutched Patrick closer to her chest. “Don’t trust either of them,” she warned Ryan.

  He clicked off the audio transmission so that Montgomery and Keyes wouldn’t be able to hear them. “There’s not a chance of that.”

  But even while he was issuing the reassurance, Ryan was reaching for his jacket and his gun. That sent her stomach plummeting.

  She put Patrick’s bottle aside so she could catch Ryan’s arm. “You’re not going out there.”

  Her grip didn’t stop him. He began to strap on a shoulder holster. “I need to find out what they know.”

  “Yes. And you can do that while you’re inside here.”

  “Not likely.” Ryan brought her hand to his mouth and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. No doubt meant to reassure her that what he was doing was okay. But it wasn’t okay. “There are two armed guards, and they won’t let Montgomery or Keyes inside the gate. Neither will I. They’ve gotten as close as they’re going to get.”

  That was it. No room for argument. Which meant she wasn’t going to be able to talk him out of this. Better yet, she didn’t know if she should convince him to stay put. They did need answers, and Montgomery and Keyes were the people who could provide those answers.