Friday's Child

by Kylie Brant

  He snorted. “From your lips to God’s ears.” Sobering, he added, “I want to thank you, Kate.”

  “You already have.”

  He let the silence stretch a few moments between them, long enough for awareness to flare into her eyes. “It wasn’t enough,” he murmured.

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “Yes, it was more than enough.”

  “It didn’t feel like it to me.”

  She didn’t look away from him, her gaze helplessly entrapped in his. He watched her soft pink mouth part, the lips trembling slightly. The sight tantalized, beckoned, reminding him of the way she had looked two nights ago before he’d kissed her. And then afterward, her mouth had been wet and swollen into a delicious pout.

  Her chin came up, her mouth firmed, and another of his mental images took a flying leap.

  “The dinner was all the thanks I need,” she said clearly.

  “But I do have something to discuss with you.” Coming forward, she took some papers out of the envelope and handed them to him.

  “What are these?”

  “We need your signed permission for the school to be able to share information about Chloe with Dr. Sachar. And the doctor will need written permission to share the results of the appointment with us. The bottom sheets are your copies.”

  Michael took the papers, each bound in triplicate, and scanned them quickly. Taking a pen out of his desk, he scrawled his name on each, then removed his copies before handing them back to her.

  It seemed to take extraordinary concentration on her part to replace the papers in the envelope. “I’ll take care of getting these copies to the doctor, as well as the behavioral scales I completed, her grade reports and a complete description of my concerns. When you go to the appointment, the doctor will want to see the behavioral scales you completed, as well.”

  “Yeah, that’s what she said.” He wondered how much longer she could avoid looking at him. “She also said that she likes to speak to someone from the school as well as the parents, once the examination is completed.”

  Kate nodded. “That’s the way it’s usually done.”

  Michael sat silent and patient, waiting for her nervous tension to peak. Finally, she slid a glance at him. “Well, that should be everything. You can let me know once you get a specific date and time for the appointment.” As she was talking, she inched toward the open door. “I’m sure Chloe would love to have you look at her room. I have a meeting this evening, so I really need to go.”

  He let her get within a foot of the door before saying gently, “Oh…Kate?”

  Her head jerked around. “Yes?”

  He rose languidly and approached her. Her eyes widened as he drew closer, then passed her and pressed his hand flat against the door, closing it. Turning, he propped his shoulders against the door, folded his arms in front of his chest and deliberately crossed one sneaker-shod foot over the other.

  “You said the other night that we couldn’t see each other again.”

  “Not in a social sense, no.”

  “Because I’m Chloe’s father.”

  “That was part of the reason,” she said, watching him warily.

  “You don’t feel it would be…professional at this point.”

  “It wouldn’t.”

  He nodded, as if in thoughtful agreement, and then said, “I can be a very patient man.”

  She blinked at him, puzzlement plain on her face. “I’m sure you can be.”

  “School will be out in a few days.” Her silence told him that she had made the connection. “Chloe won’t be your student after that.” He pushed away from the door and closed the distance between them.

  She wanted to back away. He could see it in her eyes. He was deliberately invading her space, forcing that awareness of him to spark.

  “I never said your relationship to Chloe was my only concern,” she reminded him shakily.

  “It shouldn’t be any secret that I’m attracted to you,” he murmured, watching the delicate pink wash her cheeks at his words. “And you’re too honest to deny that you’re attracted to me.”

  “I don’t feel the need to act on every passing attraction I feel.”

  “You don’t know me very well, I realize that,” he said, ignoring her words. He was a savvy enough strategist to smell fear, and what he needed to do now was calm hers. Partly. He circled her slowly, his head dipping to inhale deeply of the scent from her hair. His thigh grazed the back of hers and she shivered. “Deanna and I had our problems, but I never ran around on her. I was committed to my family. Things didn’t work out.”

  “I never asked…” Kate started.

  “I know. I wanted to tell you. Because I think you’re afraid.” He came to a stop in front of her, in time to meet her startled gaze. “I went through a period after my divorce when I…dated…a lot of women. Not anymore, though. I’m not interested in a casual relationship.” He watched her carefully. “I don’t think you are, either.”

  Panic and wariness flickered in her eyes. “We’re too different.”

  “Trask once told me that it’s not where people come from that matters, it’s where they’re going.” His face moved closer to hers and his next words were whispered against her mouth. “Wherever you’re going, I think I’d like to come along.” He gave in to the temptation and pressed his lips, ever so lightly, against hers. His tongue traced their delicate inner lining.

  It took several seconds for her to formulate a response once he’d lifted his mouth. “It wouldn’t work.”

  “Why not? You like Chloe.”

  “Yes.” The word was breathed against his lips, because he wasn’t moving away. He dropped a little kiss at the corner of her mouth.

  “And you like me.”

  “I…yes…”

  She was rewarded with another tiny kiss for her answer. “You think I’m cute.”

  It took a moment for his outrageous statement to register, and then her head jerked back and her dark brows arched upward. “And how did you reach that conclusion?”

  He gave her a slow, satisfied smile. “I figured it out the other night when you bit my bottom lip and ran your fingers through my hair.”

  This time when she stepped away, he let her go and watched, amused, as she paced the room.

  “Apparently I wasn’t clear enough then about what I want. Or don’t want.”

  Because his hands itched to touch her again, he jammed them in his pockets to keep them out of trouble. “Oh, I thought you were pretty clear.” He watched her movements, made swift and sharp from the nerves edging to the surface.

  “Without going into the excruciating details, I’ll just tell you that I have a long-standing aversion to men who are used to manipulating others. Men who use what power they have to bend others to their will.”

  “Is that what I’m doing?” he asked, his interest piqued.

  Though the glance she sliced at him was laced with uncertainty, she didn’t pause in her pacing. “I’ve always known what I want. Where I’m going. And I’m sorry, but the journey doesn’t involve you.”

  “You’re sure about that?” He really was curious. He knew she was stubborn but hadn’t realized she could be this single-minded.

  “Yes.” The word was firm, but her gaze wasn’t meeting his. Because he needed to, he took that as a positive sign.

  “Well, it sounds like you’ve thought this out.” He strolled casually near her and watched her muscles jump with the instinct to move away. He knew her pride wouldn’t let her.

  “Yes.” The word was hoarse, and she cleared her voice nervously. “I have.”

  He reached out one long finger and pushed a curly strand of hair back over her shoulder. “Okay.”

  Her gaze bounced to his, and for a moment she seemed speechless. “Okay?”

  He gave a slow nod.

  Her eyes searched his for a long moment. “Well…fine.”

  “Fine.”

  She seemed to be having trouble with her voice again. Thi
s time, it sounded strangled. “That’s it, then.” She looked to either side and took a deep breath. He watched, enjoying the moment. He had a feeling that Kate Rose didn’t fluster easily.

  “You’ll let me know when Chloe’s appointment is set?”

  “I will do that,” he said gravely.

  “Well. Goodbye, then, Michael.” Her hand shot out, a proper little gesture of dismissal.

  He eyed it amusedly before taking it in his and caressing her soft palm with his thumb. “Goodbye, Kate.”

  She jerked her hand free and turned, almost fleeing from the room.

  He watched her go, humor still twitching at his lips. If ever there had been a time to engage retreat strategy, this had been it. He knew from experience that showing too much interest in a rival company would tip his hand before he played it. Keeping a low profile went a long way toward soothing fears. He didn’t see why the same wouldn’t be true in a relationship.

  He turned to go back to his computer, whistling softly between his teeth. But once seated there, he couldn’t stop thinking of Kate. The range of emotions he’d seen from her today captivated him, enthralled him. Remembering the way she’d explained her lack of interest in him had a wide grin splitting his face. God, she was sweet.

  And she was going to be his.

  “I believe we could have a problem, Michael.”

  “Tell me about it,” Michael muttered. Then it occurred to him that Trask probably wasn’t referring to the problem Michael had had concentrating since he’d last seen Kate three days ago. He scrubbed his hands over his face and turned away from the computer to meet Trask’s troubled gaze.

  “What’s up?”

  “Word has it that none of your competitors were happy about losing the NASA contract, especially not to you.”

  Michael shrugged impatiently. “No one likes to lose.”

  The other man didn’t change expression, just looked at him steadily. Michael stared back, then sighed. “All right, Trask, out with it.”

  “I’ve been hearing talk.”

  Michael didn’t inquire into the man’s sources. He had uncanny business instincts and he was always accurate. He was the one person in the world whose opinion Michael valued without reservation.

  “What kind of talk?”

  “Like what happens if you don’t make the deadline on FORAY. Who’d be the forerunner in your place.”

  Michael shrugged again. “Sounds like the kind of talk that always accompanies a project this big, Trask. Rumors. You know how the business is.”

  “I do know it,” the other man said, his gaze steady.

  “Might be a little more security around here wouldn’t hurt.”

  Rubbing his jaw, Michael pondered Trask’s suggestion. “The place is like Fort Knox already, thanks to the system you helped me install.”

  “Still,” the older man persisted, “you can’t be too careful.” He cleared his throat and looked at the ceiling. “Especially with the little tyke around most of the time.”

  Shock held Michael still for a moment. He’d accepted the level of competition surrounding his field, actually relished it. Success was always sweeter when it was hard-won. He’d never shied away from a calculated risk in his career, but there was no way in hell he’d take any kind of chance with Chloe’s safety.

  A tight, cold fist of dread squeezed his heart. He didn’t question whether Trask was overreacting—or his own response. If there was even a fraction of a chance that his daughter could be affected, there really was no decision to be made at all.

  “It wouldn’t take much to figure that I would work on FORAY from the house,” he said slowly. Trask waited patiently. Michael lifted his gaze to meet the other man’s. “Hire some men,” he ordered flatly. Trask nodded, relief flickering across his normally implacable exterior, and exited the room.

  When Kate’s phone rang at eleven-thirty that evening she woke, instantly alarmed. All her friends knew she retired early during the week, but her married brothers had phones. Bracing herself for bad news, she fumbled for the switch on the lamp beside the bed and picked up the receiver.

  “Kate.”

  The voice was low and husky and filled with unmistakable weariness. But it was instantly identifiable. “Michael?”

  “I must have wakened you. I’m sorry about that. How long have you been sleeping?”

  “About an hour, I guess.” She stopped, mentally trying to arrange her thoughts. She hadn’t heard from him since they’d decided to go their separate ways. At least she’d decided. And he’d given in with an alacrity that still rankled. It had been humbling to find that she was simultaneously capable of cool logic and wounded pride. She’d decided that reason and emotion didn’t always coexist peacefully. “Is something wrong?”

  “Nothing, really. I just wanted to ask you to do a favor for me.”

  Caution reared. “What kind of favor?”

  “You said once that you led the children out at dismissal time.”

  She pushed her heavy hair off her shoulder, nonplussed. “Yes, at three o’clock I take them out and make sure they get on the bus or catch their ride home.”

  “Trask says things get a little hectic out there.”

  “When you have two hundred and fifty students anxious to get home, things do get exciting at times,” Kate allowed.

  “But dismissal is well supervised by the teachers.”

  “I’d like to have Trask come into the building to pick Chloe up. He could come to your room at two fifty-five and get her before the rest of the students leave the building.”

  “I’m sure that would be okay,” Kate said. “But I’d like to know why.”

  She could hear him release a breath, and a sudden picture of him leaning back in his chair, propping his long legs up on the desk, flashed into her mind.

  “I’m just being overly careful,” he finally replied. “The competition for this NASA contract was fierce. I’m probably paranoid, but I never take chances with someone I love.”

  In the pause that stretched between them, Kate came wide-awake. She pushed her pillow into position behind her and leaned against her headboard. “You think Chloe might be in danger?”

  “I don’t think anything,” he soothed. “I’m paranoid, remember. I’m just being extra careful.”

  “My students always have the option to stay inside the classroom with me at recesses. Would you like me to keep Chloe in?”

  “Yeah, if you can arrange it. I’ll talk to the Clo-worm about it. Maybe if she could draw or something, she wouldn’t mind it so much.”

  “I’ll set up a paint station,” Kate promised. “There’s nothing Chloe would rather do at school.”

  “Thank you.” His voice was lower. “I appreciate your help. And I’ll talk to the principal tomorrow and arrange the dismissal procedure with her.”

  There was a long silence then, which seemed to get more intimate by the moment. Finally Michael spoke. “It’s good to hear your voice, Kate.”

  She drew in a deep breath, released it slowly. “It’s…thank you.”

  “How many days left of school? Two?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  She clutched the receiver several moments after he’d hung up, puzzling over his last words. He must have been referring to the appointment for Chloe. Irritated with the disappointment she felt at that conclusion, she replaced the receiver with a clatter. She should feel satisfied that he had respected her decision and dropped his pursuit of her. But she wouldn’t be human if her pride wasn’t deflated by how easily he’d managed to do just that. It was galling to realize she was capable of such diverse reactions to a man. Irritating to recognize that she could respond to him on two very different levels.

  And it was incredibly annoying to admit, even to herself, that it had been good to hear his voice, too.

  Chapter 8

  “How come those men have to be here all the time, Daddy?”

  Michael stifled a sigh at w
hat was surely the tenth time Chloe had repeated that particular question. “I told you, bug, the men are here to help Trask.”

  Chloe crawled up to perch on the edge of her father’s desk, secure in the knowledge that her presence in the den was completely welcome. “Trask doesn’t need any help,” she explained earnestly. “Alls he does is watch me and I’m not much work.”

  One corner of Michael’s mouth kicked up. “You’re more work than you could ever know, squirt.” With one arm he swept her off the desk and into his lap, making her shriek with laughter.

  When her giggles had subsided, she continued, “I’m not even here when I’m at school. Do the men go home then?”

  “They do other work for Trask,” he answered vaguely.

  “He has lots to keep them busy. This is a big place, you know.”

  Her brow wrinkled, Chloe surveyed him for a moment. “But Hank takes care of the horses, and Mrs. Martin cleans the house, and Mr. Martin mows and does the flowers. Are the men gonna help Mr. Martin mow?”

  “Maybe,” he answered, feeling hunted in the face of his daughter’s persistence. “But mostly they’ll do other stuff.”

  “What kind of stuff?”

  This time Michael did groan. “And I’m supposed to believe you have a short attention span?” he mumbled.

  “What’s a span?” she wanted to know.

  “Never mind. Listen,” he said, searching for an answer that wouldn’t alarm her. “The men are here to be sure that…things don’t get lost.”

  Chloe surveyed her father gravely. “We don’t have lots of things, Daddy.”

  “Right. But we’re fixing up the place, aren’t we? Your room looks so great I decided it’s time to start getting furniture and stuff in the rest of the house. So when you’re out of school, we’re going to start shaping this place up.”

  “Who’s going to help?” she asked dubiously.

  “What makes you think I need help? All right, all right,” he hastened to add at the comical look she aimed at him, “maybe I could use a little.”