by Aliyah Burke
“Oh, cookies. And here I was worried he was getting to you.” Brooke’s statement was droll. “Glad to see he isn’t.”
Niya flipped her friend off before it actually hit her what she was doing. She baked when stressed or nervous. “I felt like having cookies.”
“Of course you did, hon. And since you’re not working on a book at the moment, I know the stress isn’t from that. Your kids are back with you, so it’s not that. Hmm, what else could it possibly be? If I was a betting person, I’d go with the hot-as-sin hunk of Italian male who is now in the living room.” She put her mug in the sink. “But, what do I know?”
Watching her friend leave the room, she slumped against the counter. Damn it all. Brooke was right. Determined not to think about the man in the next room, Niya began making cookies.
Chapter Four
Marco stood in his room, sweaty from his workout, wearing a pair of gray sweats. The house was silent for the moment. Eliana was asleep, Brooke and Niya were out of the house and J.T. was in his room.
“What happened to your back?”
Okay, perhaps he wasn’t in his room. Marco turned, towel in hand and dabbed at the sweat on his face. J.T. leaned in the doorway, watching him.
“I was in a fire.” He reached for his shirt and drew it on over his head, effectively hiding those scars.
“Where?”
This wasn’t something he liked speaking about but he took the opportunity offered. “I was in school one day and the alarms went off. Not everyone made it out. One of the people who didn’t was my best friend. So I went back in to find him. Unfortunately, the fire found me as well.”
“You saved your friend?”
He gave a self-deprecating smile. “Yes, technically I did. He was also burned and hasn’t been the same since.”
“Mom said you know karate. Is that true?”
He nodded. “It is. Are you interested in learning?”
“I don’t need it to kick someone’s ass.” J.T.’s response was bitter and snippy.
“That would be a poor reason to learn. It’s not about that.”
“Are you a black belt?”
“I hold the rank of Rokudan, sixth Dan degree of black belt.”
J.T. stood up straighter. “And you would teach me?”
“If you wish.”
The boy nodded and slipped away. Marco went to clean up and when he stepped from the bathroom, he could hear lots of conversation out in the living room. On his way out there, his phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Are you ever coming back to Texas?”
He sat in the wingback, a smile spreading across his face. “Miss me that much, do you? I told you, you should leave that man and be mine.”
Torrye laughed and for once it wasn’t as painful as it normally had been. “You and I are much better friends, Marco. Now, what are you doing up in Maine? I hear they’re having one hell of a winter.”
“You recall when I mentioned Maria and met her a while ago?”
“Yes. I remember pushing you to meet her. Are you with her?”
He stared out the window at the swirling snow. “Not exactly.”
“Okay.”
He could imagine Torrye’s confused expression. “Maria and her husband died, I’m here with their children.” He cleared his throat. “My children.”
“Your children?” Her tone was high and squeaky.
“I’ve been named their guardian. Much to the dismay of the woman who’s been taking care of them. So I’m with her until they allow flights to leave. David’s at a hotel in town and I’m at this woman’s house.”
“This woman? Your voice cracked when you said that. Who is she and when do I get to meet her?”
“Torrye, this isn’t like that.” Still, he couldn’t deny his growing attraction to her. “Her name is Niya.”
“Okay, that was said on a sigh. You like her. No, don’t even try to deny it. I like her already and I’ve not met her. Anyone who can get you to sigh like that, Marco, is something special.”
“Torrye,” he warned.
All she did was laugh. “Not scared of you, Marco. Your bark is way worse than your bite.”
“Only,” he growled, partially playfully, “you never let me bite you.”
Her laughter grew. “Bite, Niya. I want pictures of the children. I’ll start looking for an apartment or house for you down here if you want. You can’t keep children in a hotel, it’s not good for them. How old are they?”
“Fourteen and nine months.”
He shifted in the seat. Devilishly wicked images popped all up and through his head at his friend’s words, “Bite, Niya” and he discovered he really wanted to do just that. Take a bite from her plump lips and see what she did. Nibble her ear, the side of her neck. Just for starters. There were other parts on her body he wanted to see and bite as well.
“How did she have children three months apart?”
“No, no. Fourteen years, that’s J.T. and Eliana is nine months. J.T. was his from another marriage but she’d raised him as her own.”
She fell silent for a bit and he maneuvered so he could see J.T. and Niya playing out in the snow. There were a few other people out there as well, both young and old. It hit him, he wanted to be out there with them. And not just because that one man kept putting his hands on Niya. Although that didn’t help. But he wanted to be part of what they were sharing.
“You are going to do right by them aren’t you, Marco?”
Torrye’s question snagged him. “Why would you ask me that?” He rose and walked the length of the room.
“Because ever since you knew about myself and Niall you’ve been with a different woman each time I’ve seen you. That kind of lifestyle won’t work if you’re raising a boy, especially at his age, or Eliana when she gets old enough to understand what you’re doing. You wanted nothing much to tie you down, business had taken over your life. I know these kids are good for you, Marco. Just the fact you would give me your meeting so you could go up there, tells me there is a change happening inside you.”
He narrowed his eyes at his reflection. “Is that what you think of me? Thanks much, Torrye.” He hung up on her protests not wanting to talk anymore. Not about that at least. He left the room and paused at the entrance to the living room. A group of women and men sat there in a circle. Brooke part of it. She looked at him and smiled.
“Guys, this is Marco, he’s staying here a few days.”
Introductions were quick and none of them asked him who he was here to see. As he spoke to each one, he wondered again about how they got here. His question was short-lived when he peered out through the foyer and out the front door’s window to see all the snowmobiles parked there.
Sitting on a bench in the foyer, he reached for the boots he’d been given to wear and bundled himself up before taking himself outside. For a few moments, he merely observed as the snowball fight progressed.
Niya ran up beside him, face flushed from the cold and a huge smile which made his belly knot. “Are you going to play?” she asked, peering around him.
“Are you using me as a shield?” he asked with a tone seeped in incredulity.
“Yes,” she replied without hesitation. Niya kept bouncing her snowball in one hand. He didn’t mind so much, given their close proximity. She smelled fresh and tantalizing.
“Do I want to know why?”
“Because they’re not sure you’re playing yet, so it will protect you for a bit. And in doing so, I’ll be protected.”
“Sound plan.”
“I know. What are you doing out here?”
“Who are all these people?”
“Neighbors.” She inched closer to him and he fought the urge to put his arm around her.
“From where?”
“Up to twenty miles away. When they learned that J.T. was still here, they came over to play.” She smiled up at him and nearly took him to his knees. “He’s quite the popular boy.”
Marco
could see right there the amount of love she had for J.T. and it was, quite honestly, extremely humbling. “Something else I’d be taking from him.”
“Until he made more friends, yes.”
She stepped behind his back and he held still instead of following her as he truly wished to do. “What are you doing?”
“Two of the kids are moving in from the front, I don’t want to be a target.”
He closed his eyes seconds before snowballs bombarded him from three sides. The only one left alone was his back. “But me being one must be all right,” he muttered wiping the cold snow from his face. There was no comment and he turned his head to find she was gone. There was only one thing he could do right now and he got to it. Bending down, he made his own snowballs and got into the game.
“I brought you some hot cocoa.”
Niya turned to accept the steaming mug from Marco. Today outside, they’d come to a truce of sorts. He’d played with them until everyone had to leave, after a brief stop inside for warm cookies and hot cocoa. Now the house was silent, the children asleep and Brooke in her room. So she’d taken the opportunity to curl up in front of the fire and watch it along the continuing falling snow.
“Thank you.” She gave him a quick smile before focusing her attention on the marshmallows bobbing in the liquid.
“What happened to Brooke?” he asked.
She snapped her gaze back to him, he’d drug a chair over near her and sat much closer than she would like him to. For the sole reason he had begun to drive her to distraction.
“She lost her legs in the Middle East.”
“She was a solider?”
“Yes. And when she came home, she didn’t have anyone else but me.”
“So you took over her responsibility.”
She glared. “She is my friend and a veteran. It’s not a responsibility, it’s an honor to help her.”
He held up a hand, the one not curled around his own drink. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound that way.”
Niya grunted.
“The kids aren’t the only ones you’re extremely protective of, are they. Brooke fits right in there.”
She sipped her drink. He made it well. “I’m protective of those I care about.”
“I can relate. I am as well.” He gave a soft smile. “What about your family? Do you have siblings?”
“I have Brooke and the two you’re taking from me.”
This time it was a pained look which skated across his face and she gave herself a sharp reprimand. Here he was trying to be nice and she kept digging at the open wound between them. If she kept this up, the truce would be long gone.
“Any others?” he asked.
She shook her head and drank a bit more. “No one else. I was raised in the foster system, it’s where I met Brooke. She’s my sister in every way that counts.” Staring at the fire, she continued, “What about you? Family?”
“A big one actually. There are eight of us. Nine when you count Maria. I don’t see them much, they all live over in Italy.”
“But you prefer the States?”
“I wanted to get away from them butting into everything I did. After a while, it felt like home here. Now I stay busy with work.”
“Buying hotels and making them your own.”
“Yes.”
She watched him from the corner of her eye. Strong. Powerful. Enigmatic. She could see him in a boardroom working out the details of some multi-million dollar deal. Easily. However, at this moment, she could also see him remaining in jeans and a tee shirt, sitting in front of a fire. As he currently did.
“Are you going to foster those children off on a nanny?” Shit! I can’t believe I let that slip out. She squeezed her eyes closed briefly.
“I don’t have a lot of free time.”
Pain churned in her gut and she pushed up from the seat, heading for the kitchen. She halted when he gripped her wrist. Tremors rocketed through her, alighting her blood and nerves. Locking her knees, she stared down at the man touching her. Not only touching but making her recall it had been far to long since anyone—other than herself—had touched her. In a sexual way.
He had calluses on his hands and fingers which created the most delightful friction against her hypersensitive skin. And, this close, Lord he smelled good. Tempting. Delicious.
“What?” she snapped.
He tugged and she moved closer. “Just because I don’t have free time doesn’t mean I don’t want what’s best for them.”
“If that is supposed to make me feel better, you missed the mark.”
His thumb rubbed a spot on her wrist which was driving her to distraction. She licked her lips and noticed the flare of responding heat in his own gaze. Yeah, this attraction wasn’t one sided. Not at all.
“You are determined to see the worst in me.”
She bent down and put her face in his. “How can I not? You couldn’t be bothered to come earlier. Couldn’t be bothered to come when your sister asked you too, and now you’re acting like this is such a huge inconvenience for you and your work schedule, Mister All Important. As if having your parents ripped away from you in the span of a heartbeat isn’t worse. Show me what exactly good I should be seeing in you.”
He dropped her wrist and wrapped a large hand in her braids, holding her right where she was. His brown eyes flashed with anger and more of that emotion she didn’t want to acknowledge.
“You’re pushing me woman,” he growled.
“Should I be scared?”
His jaw flexed and she wondered how wise she was to continually push him. Goosebumps exploded all over her skin and she wanted to rub against him. Preferably while being naked, but right now, she wasn’t picky. Her gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips and back again. Bow shaped, she wanted to know how they would feel beneath hers. How did he kiss? What would he taste like?
“Keep looking at me like that, Niya, and you’ll see something you may not be ready for.”
She bit the inside of her lip hard enough to regain her rapidly fading control. Blinking, she sniffed. “Really? Something I haven’t seen before? What would that be?”
He put their mouths millimeters apart. “Do you really want to push me?”
“It’s not like you’re the first man who’s kissed me, I highly doubt it would be anything worth writing about. I’m sure my imagination could come up with something better.”
“Keep telling yourself that, darling. We both know you want me to kiss you.” His warm breath fanned along her lips and she bit back her whimper.
“Sounds to me like you’re the one who wants a kiss. You’re the one holding my hair and my head this close. What’s the matter, not used to a woman not falling into your arms?”
He narrowed his eyes but released her and she stood upright. I’m not even going to address how bereft I feel without his touch. She tossed her head, the braids moving in time with the action. “Good night.”
She made her way to the kitchen on shaky legs, finished her drink, and rinsed out the mug before putting it in the dishwasher. Bracing her hands on the countertop, she took several deep breaths before she was ready to make her way to her bedroom. Marco still sat in the living room, his expression hooded and dangerously sexy as he tracked her progress across to her doorway. She slipped into her room without a word and sank against the closed door before sliding down to the floor.
Never had a man affected her so. He was right, she had wanted to kiss him. For starters.
“Get a grip,” she groused. On her feet, she made her way to the bathroom and got ready for bed. Her body still hummed with anticipation when she slipped between her sheets. She wasn’t sure how long he would be here, but she did know, she was in trouble. Especially if she couldn’t control her body’s response.
She slid her hand down over her belly and to the top of her waistband before jerking it away. “Not happening. I don’t need to frig myself just because he got me all hot and bothered.” She rolled over, punched her
pillow, and hoped sleep would come easy. It didn’t and a few hours later, she was padding across the now silent house to her study where she turned on her computer, sat down, and got to work on another story.
Chapter Five
Marco woke hard and aching. For none other than the woman who’s house he currently slept in. Niya. It wasn’t fair to know only the wall separated them. How come she slept so well? He expected to hear her up and pacing, as he’d done through the night. But nothing from her.
A whimper had him sitting up and staring at the crib, which had been put into his room. Rising from bed, he padded barefoot to find Eliana lying there, staring up at him with large eyes. Her lower lip trembled and he reached out and lifted her into his arms. She snuggled against him, smelling like innocence and baby powder.
Tears pricked his eyes as he carried her over to the changing table. After she was dry and redressed in her warm clothing, he gathered her close. Her trust in him was overwhelming. This was the first child he’d held and it broke the last bit around his heart which told him he had to continue with putting work first. He could do this. He would do this.
“Let’s get you something to eat, Angel,” he cooed to her as they went to the door.
He went through the living room instead of the dining, so he could peer at Niya’s door. It was shut. The fire burned powerfully and sent it’s warmth through the room. He saw Brooke sitting at the breakfast table, eating a bowl of cereal.
“Morning,” he said.
She looked at him, raked her gaze up and down his chest and nodded. “Morning.”
“Where’s Niya?”
She jerked her finger over a shoulder. “Office, she’s working.”
“Who does she write as?” he asked, sitting down. Eliana worked her pacifier and seemed content.
“Romance she’s Angela Grey and for mystery she writes as N. B. Posey.”
He frowned for a moment. “Wait, N. B. Posey? The one who writes The Guardian series?”
