Twice Tempted (Bad Boys Erotic Tales)

by Arden, Susan

  It was too late to stop, and he wasn’t about to do another U-turn.

  “Sam,” he said as he neared her table.

  She glanced over her shoulder, and the corners of her mouth curved invitingly up at him until their eyes met and snapped together. A jolt of recognition hit them both, and they stared for several seconds. A look of complete shock spread over her face. She blinked, her throat muscles working, and slowly the color drained from her face. She remained silent.

  Sam suddenly turned her face as though she’d heard something, and peered over at the water in the pool. Her response—or rather, the lack of one—unnerved him.

  His heart picked up a beat and began racing. “I met Teresa Miller, and she told me you were here, doing an interview about your latest book. Congratulations, by the way.”

  She turned her attention back to him. He watched as she closed her luscious mouth and bit her plump lip, folding her arms across her curvaceous body. Her stormy eyes widened, as though he was an escapee from the loony bin and she was about to call the police.

  “Don’t you remember me?” he asked, unable to discern why she refused to speak. “I’m Robert Graham and I did some photography work for your father.” He didn’t know whether to continue talking or to pack it up and leave. God but she was gorgeous, and prompted him to dig his heels in. Unwilling to give up just yet, he continued. “So…you’re a successful writer, just like you wanted. It’s great that you made good on your—”

  “Yes, I re-remember you,” she stammered. She gazed back toward the kiddie pool after she studied him with a look that bordered on terror. “Excuse me.”

  She stood, and it was his turn to stare. Sam was beyond stunning in her dress and heels. His gaze remained superglued to her scissoring legs framed by a pair of unbelievable strappy shoes. He remembered all-too-well she had a thing for sexy high heels. His gaze consumed her, following her every move.

  “Mommy!” A child in an inner tube hurried over to the side of the pool.

  He peered at the little girl as Sam held out a towel. Mommy? What!?

  “Come on, Isabella,” she coaxed.

  The child giggled.

  Rob’s mouth went dry, and his heart skipped a beat, several beats. He walked over to where Sam stood and gazed at the little girl with her ginger-colored hair. There was an immediate flash of recognition. Mysterious but familiar. “Is this little girl yours?” he asked.

  Sam glared up at him, her mouth drawn tight as she nodded. He didn’t know much about kids, but the child looked older than a toddler, maybe three or four. She scooped the girl into her arms, and then returned to the table, where she sat down with the child, holding her on her lap. She all but ignored him as she spoke to her child. “Do you want to go swimming again, or should we remove your floats?”

  “Can I have my toys?” The child pointed to a netted bag.

  “Yes, but we’re leaving in five minutes. Remember what we spoke about.”

  “I know, Mommy.”

  “Good girl.” Sam kissed the top of her head.

  The little girl had a neon pink inner tube around her waist and inflatable bands around each of her arms, and goggles perched on her head. No one could fault the kid for being unprepared. Rob tried to imagine what it had to feel like to be an overprotective parent.

  “I’m going back in.” The little girl squirmed.

  Sam put her down and kept watching as her daughter scampered back toward the pool. She stood, caught up in studying her daughter. The child stepped into the wading pool. Sam didn’t seem to relax until the child sat down next to another child.

  Rob continued to contemplate the child as she chattered and splashed water. She had deep blue eyes, but those were set in a face that only slightly reminded him of Sam. The more he gazed at her, the more familiar she became. Somehow, the child reminded him of his sister and his mother, as well as some of his cousins and their children.

  He turned toward Sam, an uneasy feeling creeping up his neck until it hit him. Jesus Christ! That little girl was his child. He gazed back to the child and then back to Sam.

  Without bothering to look at him, she said with a chilly edge to her voice, “I’m busy now, Rob.”

  Stunned, he reached out and gently took her wrist. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

  “Tell you what?” She tried to pull her wrist away and glanced back at the pool. “Let. Me. Go.” She glared at him as she made the demand through gritted teeth.

  Shit. Time stood absolutely still. The dappled coloring of her eyes stabbed his chest. Had it really been four long years?

  She tugged again, pulling her arm. “I need to be closer to Isabella.”

  Isabella. Rob repeated his child’s name and released Sam. He followed her as she walked to the edge of the pool where she took off her shoes and dangled her feet in the water. He smiled down at Isabella. Her eyes were the same shape as her mother’s, but they were a similar aquamarine hue to the ones that stared back in the mirror every morning.

  The little girl smiled at him, and looked away, then back up to him. When she saw that he was still gazing at her, she shyly waved.

  Rob crooked his index finger, curling and uncurling his solitary digit. He sat down on the tiled edge of the pool, alongside Sam. He had the sensation of suddenly being hit over the head and covered in cement and electrocuted all at once. “We need to talk,” he whispered behind her ear.

  She sat up straight, her head erect. She swung around suddenly, staring at him. “Why? What do you want, Rob?”

  “I think you know my exact concerns, Sam,” he said, well aware that there were other people in the area and not wanting to cause a scene.

  “What makes you think I care about what concerns you?” Her voice held a sharp edge, one he didn’t remember. “And don’t call me that.”

  “Sam, don’t play games with something this important.”

  “I said to stop calling me that. My name is Cynthia.”

  He exhaled. “Fine. How old is Isabella, Cynthia? Around four? Am I right? I can do the math, she looks just like me.” He lowered his voice. “Look, all I’m asking is why you didn’t let me know I was going to be a father. I had a right to know, and contrary to what you might think, I’m not the kind of jerk who’d turn my back on a responsibility like this. I know when we parted, things didn’t go as smooth as they should have gone. But give me some credit.” For the life of him, he couldn’t understand what would have possessed her to go through motherhood alone.

  Christ! He raked his hands through his hair. I’m a father, he thought, gazing at his little girl in wonderment.

  The revelation felt as if a thunderbolt had slammed into his gut. If Cynthia hadn’t told him she was pregnant and had kept silent this long, he was sure he wouldn’t have ever found out. Save this one coincidence of them being present together at the hotel. Flabbergasted at that thought, he thanked God that he’d accepted the assignment.

  Splash!

  “Mommy! Help!”

  He watched as his daughter’s arms flailed in the water; she must have slipped and toppled over, burying her little face beneath the surface of the shallow water. Rob was up in a heartbeat, and in two strides, he had his daughter out of the water and in his arms. He stood there, ankle deep in pool water, dripping wet, holding his little girl, who coughed and clung to him like a spider monkey.

  Cynthia stood on the edge of the pool, her arms extended. “Please bring her to me, Rob!” Her voice had risen into the range near controlled hysterics.

  Rob held Isabella close to him. She was tiny, and her body seemed so delicate and fragile in his arms. Her eyelashes were spiky and blinked away a film of water. His heart tugged, swelling more and more as he wiped the water from her eyes. She smiled at him, displaying two dimples that sank into her chubby little cheeks. As he gazed at her, his heart seemed to burst open in a joy he’d never experienced before.

  “Coming,” he said, smiling into Cynthia’s eyes, then looking back at his daughter
. “Your mommy is very concerned about you. We should go so she doesn’t dive into the pool and swim over here to rescue you.”

  Isabella squealed in delight. “Mommy, come swimming with us.” She held her arms open wide to her mom.

  Rob gazed at the child and Cynthia, and silently contemplated what to do. Cynthia would throttle him if given the chance. Daggers flew from her eyes, seemingly trying to pierce him. But then he wasn’t ecstatic either. Sam or Cynthia or whoever she was had a shit-load of explaining to do.

  She moved toward him without a trace of a smile, until she gazed at Isabella. When her face lit up, something in his chest pinched. She held out a thick towel, ready to receive the child—their child. Cynthia’s arms brushed against him as she reached up to hug their daughter.

  He inhaled the scent of Cynthia’s hair and was immediately conscious of the warmth of her body saturating his wet clothes. The sound of Isabella’s laughter rang inside his head. His heart squeezed as he let go of his little girl and watched her gorgeous mother enfold the child against her chest.

  Rob held on to Cynthia’s elbow and helped her out of the pool. They walked back to the table, and she set Isabella on a chair.

  “I’m thirsty, Mommy.”

  “Oh, baby doll, even with all that pool water?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Juice box okay?” Cynthia poked the straw into the box and handed it over.

  Standing there soaking wet, he glared at the kiddie pool, keenly aware of the dangers of such an invention. He took notice of the glass on the table, the height of the chairs, and a host of other items that might harm his child. Within five minutes, the world had become unsafe, and it was up to him to protect his daughter and her mother.

  Cynthia’s expression didn’t exactly welcome his presence. She came across as most unwilling, but it wasn’t about the two of them. As far as he was concerned, it was about was best for Isabella. He didn’t have a business degree, but he most certainly had access to an attorney.

  He doubted Cynthia wanted a knight in shining armor blasting his way into her life when she had things seemingly under control. No way would he get anywhere trying to safeguard her, in essence implying that she couldn’t do the job right. If he remembered correctly, that was how her father operated, and for that reason, her father had lost her. Rob had not fared any better by walking away only to reappear uninvited.

  Any type of relationship with the mother of his child required walking a fine line, similar to a tightrope, but with no safety net below. He furrowed his brow at the thought, and about a million other ideas that raced around his head concerning Cynthia and Isabella.

  Isabella held her juice box in her fingers and stood still while Cynthia removed her floats. All of the sudden, the idea of wrapping the child up in a flotilla didn’t seem so farfetched.

  “Need any help?” he asked, feeling like a third armpit.

  “We’re fine. As you can see.”

  “Can I get you both something? Lunch or…,” he said, struggling to find common ground with a woman who’d rather see him in pit of quicksand.

  “Really, we’re getting ready to leave.”

  She put some sort of bathing suit wrap on Isabella, along with matching sandals. The child put on sunglasses and looked the part of a little doll. He couldn’t help but smile at her.

  Cynthia picked up a large bag and moved farther away from him. Unease surged within him. He didn’t even know where she lived. She might have just been there on vacation, but he bet she still lived in the Miami area, considering her family.

  Cynthia tucked the rest of Isabella’s toys away. She cast a furtive glance in his direction. “Well, it’s been swell you seeing you again.”

  “What? You think this is where we say goodbye?” His voice escalated.

  “Why not? I don’t think there’s anything we need to discuss,” she said matter-of-factly. “I made the decision to go it alone, and I’m more than content with the way things are. Isabella and I are fine.” She peered back at their daughter. By the time she swung to face him, her eyes were throwing sparks. “Rob, you made it painfully clear that you didn’t want to be part of my life four years ago. What gives you the right to demand a ticket back just because it pleases you? What about me? I’ve made a life for myself and my child, and no one is going to get in the way of that.”

  He did what came naturally when she was near. He crossed the space between them, stepping close enough to discern the dappled coloring of her irises, the way she hesitantly bit the corner of her mouth when confused, and the light rise and fall of her chest. “Excuse me, but you’re wrong. I’m—”

  “Don’t go there.” She continued, “Look, I’m sorry things didn’t work out, but you chose to leave in such a hurry, and you never looked back.” She cocked her head. “Now…well, it’s my turn.”

  Suddenly, something snapped inside of him. There’s no way she’s just going walk away, out of his life—not this time and not with his daughter. “Either you talk with me, or I’ll find someone who will explain to you the facts of custody and visitation in the State of Florida.”

  She jerked around, her nostrils flaring and her hands balled into fists. “You’re threatening me? Why am I surprised?” She spun on her foot, leaving him standing in a cloud of her unforgettable fragrance.

  He reached out and took hold of her arm before she could get away. This time, he refused to settle for the back of Cynthia Cainwright’s head.

  Chapter 10

  Cynthia’s whole body trembled. She gazed at Rob and clenched her jaw, unwilling to think of him in terms of the past. That was over, forever gone.

  Nevertheless, the nearness and hardness of him made her mouth go dry.

  His finger flickered over her the skin of her arm. “You leave me few choices. I will not let this go as easily as you might hope.”

  The moment Rob had shown up unexpectedly at the pool, she firmly believed, had been the worst scene she could have written into one of her novels. Return of the lost lover.

  Dear God, she’d nearly fainted at the sight of him standing there, like a nightmare come true. Her pulse had gone into a triple-time cadence, and she’d been struck dumb. He had the ability to make her feel tiny in his presence. That was crazy. She’d only known him for a total of four hundred ninety-five minutes. She’d recounted and relived each one over the last four years. She might have regretted having ever met him in the first place, if not for the fact that their union, albeit fleeting, had resulted in her beloved child.

  Standing next to him, she was glad she’d opted for heels; only that allowed her any chance of looking the monolith of a man directly in the eye. She sucked in a serrated breath and wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. Her feelings for him had long ago shriveled and were nothing more than the size, texture, and density of a raisin, something she’d always loathed. Whatever she might have felt in the past was just that: the past. It was over…wasn’t it?

  Rob refused to leave things alone. Why? Was this a new project that he’d find interesting before he got bored? Like with her. He took and then when he got what he wanted, he left. She held her chin up defiantly, unwilling to consider anything other than her rights. Rob taking over her life was not an option.

  He towered above her, better looking than she remembered, though she hated to admit it. For an instant, her chest took another hit, more evidence her heart wasn’t completely frozen. Damn it to hell. Damn him.

  Standing before Rob, she kept thinking he was the most audacious man. Her heart pounded wildly. It wasn’t enough he’d shown up out of the blue, but then he’d overrun her boundaries by sitting down beside her at the pool and whispering into her ear. The sound of his husky voice and the heat of his body had sent a shiver rippling over her frosty exterior from an urge to lean back against him. The urge, a blip lasting less than a millisecond, was yet a forceful reminder of what he’d meant. A long time ago.

  Now, standing in front of her, Rob was either completely mad or t
he devil himself in his ability to kick up a bevy of wanton images swirling around her imagination. The pressure from his fingers on her arm sent a shiver in all directions, coupled with a blaring siren inside her body, demanding that she get up and leave. Exit the premises at once.

  “I can’t believe you just appear out of nowhere and have the audacity to threaten me, no matter what you call it.”

  “That’s not my desire. But I want you to know I have rights regardless of what you might think.”

  The caress of his breath sent jolts of electricity racing up her spine. Jesus, how did he still have that power over her? And now she couldn’t abruptly pluck Isabella from the pool area. She didn’t want to scare her daughter. One person already frightened out of her wits was more than enough.

  Cynthia bit back a response. Apparently, the men in her life knew only one prevalent mode of operation: threats. And acting like she was some sort of dolt, unable to fend for herself.

  “I’m not an idiot. Instead of making demands, you might think about what’s best for Isabella. Like your race to into the pool…as though I’m too dull witted to help my own child.” She shook her head, while the skin across her face heated.

  “This is all new to me. I’m not trying to insult you. I just…reacted without thinking. Is that so awful?”

  She rolled her eyes in lieu of responding to him. She reached down and held onto Isabella’s hand. “Come on, baby doll.”

  “Let me help. Give me your bag. I’m accustomed to hauling cases.”

  “I’m not the person who needs a Sherpa. Don’t you have to go do some type of exotic photography or something? We can manage to get from her to the car by ourselves.”

  For all her careful planning, she’d thought they’d be safe from coming into contact with him. Men. All they wanted to do was control her life.

  Cynthia hadn’t seen much of her father since she’d quit World Travel except one chance meeting, a few months after she’d quit working for him and before she’d begun to show. She didn’t know if her father realized he was a grandfather. She certainly hadn’t told him and had little contact with the people in his circles. She’d attempted to arrange a meeting, but he stonewalled her without ever saying a word. Her father’s family was mostly in New York, a whole other world away—one she’d been ostracized from. He’d shut the door on her then, and he hadn’t returned any of her messages or emails since.