by Kylie Brant
“Ask Miss Rose!” shouted Chloe. She bounced up and down excitedly. “I bet she would help if you asked her.”
“Think so?”
Her head bobbed enthusiastically. “And then I could see her this summer! And that would be good, ’cuz I’m gonna miss her when she’s not my teacher anymore.”
“Tell you what,” he said confidingly, “I’ll think of a plan so you can see Miss Rose this summer, but it’s going to have to be a sa-prise, okay?”
Chloe’s eyes widened in delight, and she nodded enthusiastically.
“And you know about sa-prises, right?” he continued.
“They have to be a secret. So you let me be the one to talk to Miss Rose about this, okay? And you have to pipe down and keep it a sa-prise.”
“Can’t I even tell Rosy?” she wanted to know.
Michael pretended to consider her words. “Does she know how to keep a secret?”
His daughter rolled her eyes. “Da-a-d.”
He rested his forehead against hers, staring into the hazel gaze that was so like his own. “I don’t want to find out that your blabbermouth pony spread our secret all over the stables.”
Chloe giggled. “She won’t. Can I tell Trask?”
“Leave Trask to me,” Michael said after a moment. “I’d like to tell him myself.”
Chloe threw her arms around his neck exuberantly and squeezed. A second later she was wriggling off his lap and on her way to the stables, presumably to tell Rosy the news.
Michael leaned back in his chair, suddenly exhausted. He’d successfully managed to distract Chloe, but she’d ask about the men again. And by then he’d better have an answer prepared. He didn’t want to alarm her with explanations of security and increased vigilance. He knew better than most how quickly a child grew up when faced with worries beyond his years. His daughter’s childhood wasn’t going to be like his, he vowed. He and Deanna might be divorced, but Chloe’s life was going to remain just as safe and secure as he could manage. It was his habit to be carefully prepared. And it was his nature to protect those he loved.
Kate sighed and relaxed on the couch in uncustomary indolence. After saying emotional goodbyes to twenty-four first-graders and working late to finish closing her classroom for the summer, she was too exhausted to move. Her stomach was requesting food but she couldn’t summon the energy to make anything to eat. She opened one eye lazily and looked at the phone. Pizza delivery was a definite possibility, but it would have to wait. Even the effort it would take to cross the room to the phone was beyond her at the moment.
She must have dozed for a while, because a sudden racket had her jerking upright so suddenly she nearly tumbled off the couch. It took her a moment to discern the source of the noise, and then she scowled at the direction of the door. Crossing the room, she unlocked the door and threw it open, glaring at the offending visitor.
Michael grinned engagingly. “I would have called first…”
Her heart kicked a faster beat at the sight of him. He looked so good. The casual T-shirt emphasized his broad chest and shoulders, and what the man did for jeans should send stock skyrocketing all over Wall Street. “But…” she prompted him when he didn’t go on.
He shrugged. “But I didn’t. Figured you’d be hungry. Have you eaten yet?”
Suspicion at his unexpected arrival was tempered by greed. Kate eyed the sacks in his hands with interest. “You have food?”
“Chinese. Are you going to let me in? Please?”
Quickly she stepped aside and he walked in. “You said the magic word.”
“Please?”
“Chinese.”
They ended up eating in the tiny living room, cartons spread out on the coffee table in front of them. They were seated on the floor, backs propped against the couch. Despite the chummy atmosphere, or maybe because of it, Kate made sure to keep a careful distance between them.
“Is Chloe excited to be out of school for the summer?” she asked between bites of spicy cashew chicken.
“Excited doesn’t even come close. Although judging from her tears when I came and picked her up, she’s going to miss you a lot, too.”
“Oh, she’ll still see plenty of me.”
“That’s what I said to her.”
Kate glanced at him uncertainly. “I mean, next year at school she’ll still be in my unit. I’ll see her frequently in the lunchroom and on the playground.”
Michael nodded. “I told her that.”
Kate went back to eating, feeling a little foolish. Of course he’d told her that. Why had she immediately assumed he was talking about seeing her on a more personal level? Because of a couple of phone calls they’d had? He must have been making time for a great deal of reading, because after the first phone call about Chloe’s dismissal time, he’d phoned twice more to question her about articles he’d read on Attention Deficit Disorder.
The calls had always come at night, right before she was asleep. As innocent as they’d been, it had become entirely too comfortable for her to sit propped up in bed with only the lamp on the bedside table turned on, talking to him. Their conversations had lent warmth to the early summer nights, a warmth she didn’t care to admit to.
Her family had never had a phone when she was growing up; her parents still didn’t own one. She’d never had the opportunity to go through a giggling teenage phase when she’d hung on the telephone, talking to girlfriends about everything and nothing. She’d never experienced that kind of connection before, and it was a little frightening that the first time she had it was with this man.
“I have to ask you a favor,” Michael said. He leaned back, his long legs stretched out under the table in front of him. His shoulders dented the couch cushions. Kate suddenly became more aware of their proximity when he turned to look at her. His face was close to hers. So near that it took physical effort not to inch away. Close enough that she had to concentrate in order to attend to what he was saying.
“I got a phone call from Dr. Sachar’s office today. They had a cancellation for one forty-five tomorrow. I said I’d take it. Will you be able to come then?”
“Of course,” she said immediately.
“Great.” He seemed genuinely relieved. “Deanna has to try and change her schedule. She was supposed to hostess some kind of luncheon or something.”
“How does she feel about the whole thing? I mean, I assume you’ve shared your concerns with her.”
Michael’s voice was noncommittal. “I’ve tried.”
When he didn’t go on, she prompted, “And…”
He lifted a shoulder. “She knows something about ADD, she says. I think she was involved in a fund-raiser dealing with it last year. Deanna is very big into fund-raisers.”
“And…does she think Chloe has it?”
“She’s ‘open to the possibility.’ That’s what she said.
‘Open to the possibility,’” he repeated softly, shaking his head. ”She always did have a remarkable ability to remain dispassionate about any subject I could throw at her. Even her daughter.”
Kate was unsure how to respond to that comment. He seemed to be brooding about something, staring into space. She didn’t want to wonder what he was thinking, didn’t want to care. But it was hard not to. He was a man used to being in charge of his own life. Now he was faced with a situation he had no control over, and given his love for his daughter, she knew that helplessness must terrify him.
Because she was too close to offering him comfort, a comfort she wasn’t sure would be welcomed, she got up and began removing the cartons and wrappers from the table and carrying them to the trash.
She was surprised when he got to his feet and helped her. In short order the mess had been tidied and he had planted himself back on her sofa. She busied herself in the kitchen making coffee. The atmosphere in her living room seemed too cozy now without the activity of eating. Lounging with his back wedged in the corner of her couch, he was having difficulty arranging his long legs without ta
ngling them in the coffee table. Finally, he pushed the table out of the way with one foot and then sprawled out comfortably.
He was having no problem relaxing, she thought. There wasn’t a hint of nerves in him, if indeed the man even owned any. He picked up the remote and turned the television on, flicking through the channels in a seemingly aimless fashion. Her couch really hadn’t been selected with someone his size in mind. His rugged strength made it seem almost delicate in comparison. He flexed his shoulders, as if working out a kink, and watching that wide expanse stretch and strain against the back of his shirt suddenly impaired her ability to breathe.
“Coffee?” She thrust a mug at him and hoped he didn’t notice that her voice was huskier than normal.
“Thanks.”
When he reached for the mug his hand brushed hers, his heat immediately transferring to her at the touch. She folded her hands together, trapping that heat, savoring the way it seemed to seep into her skin and shimmy through her veins.
“Aren’t you having any?”
Her head jerked at his question. “No. Maybe later.”
He lazily patted the couch cushion beside him. “Well then, why don’t you sit down. We have something to discuss.” He snapped off the TV and leaned forward to lay the remote on the coffee table.
She sat on the couch, taking great care to leave much more distance between them than he had indicated. “What might that be?”
“Our futures, of course. Yours and mine.”
He’d caught her attention. “Our futures?” she repeated faintly.
He nodded solemnly. “You didn’t think I’d let you ignore it, did you?”
“Ignore what exactly?” she said cautiously, anticipation humming up her spine.
He held out his hand and slowly uncupped it. There in his big palm were two wrapped fortune cookies. Kate’s breath was released in a rush.
“I don’t think so, thanks,” she refused. “I’ve got my future pretty well planned out already.”
One dark, thick eyebrow rose at her words. “Do you, now? No room in that future for a little advice from a Confucius wanna-be?” When she shook her head, he grinned slowly and taunted, “Afraid?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. What would I be afraid of?”
“You tell me,” he said softly. His gaze refused to release hers. There was teasing there, and more. He was a master at speaking on two different levels, keeping her off-kilter. But he was wrong if he thought she was afraid of him. Fear was one emotion he didn’t stir in her. But afraid of herself? That possibility was too close to the truth to be entirely comfortable.
She snatched a fortune cookie out of his hand and opened it. Retrieving the tiny slip of paper, she took an inordinate amount of time smoothing it before reading it out loud. “A patient man receives his just rewards.” Her gaze slowly lifted to his.
“True beauty waits for those wise enough to find it.” He recited his without releasing her gaze.
Seconds ticked by unnoticed as the silence between them grew taut with tension. “Kate.” His voice was a low rumble. “I did come here today to tell you about the appointment.”
She moistened her lips. “I…yes, I know that.”
His gaze was intent. “But I would have been here regardless. School’s out. I’m no longer the parent of one of your students.”
Caught in the high-beam intensity of his gaze, she needed a moment to make the connection. Another to fashion a response to it. “Your relationship to Chloe wasn’t my only concern.”
He reached for her hand where it lay at her side and sent his thumb skimming across her knuckles. “I know,” he murmured. His one-sided grin was meant to disarm. “I figured I’d handle them one at a time.”
And suddenly she realized just how subtly she’d been finessed. He’d seemed to back off, and on one level she’d regretted it. He’d given her just enough space to miss him, to think about him. And more than enough time to wonder what a relationship with him would be like. To wonder what would happen if she gave in to those disturbing hormonal tugs that appeared in her system whenever she was near him.
She moistened her lips nervously. “I…”
“Needed time,” he finished for her, raising her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to her palm. “So I gave you time. The question is, was it enough time to change your mind about us?”
She couldn’t form an answer. He moved closer, and she knew she should move away. The way he’d manipulated her should have filled her with anger. And anger would be easy to feel if the light in his eyes wasn’t fueling the desire humming through her veins. If he didn’t look so sinfully sexy and ruggedly male… If the fierce light of masculine desire wasn’t so plain on his face…
And then his lips were on hers and reason swirled away. His mouth was hard, hungry and a little desperate. There was no patience, no gentle wooing. Perhaps that would have been easier to withstand. But his desperation fueled her own, his hunger fed hers. Her arms went to his shoulders and clung, and she was barely aware as he lay back on the couch, pulling her on top of him. His hands were on her face, keeping her lips above his. He pressed her mouth open and his tongue swept inside, and she welcomed it with her own.
His heart was hammering beneath her hand, and his heat was searing her everywhere they touched. Her hair draped around them, curtaining them from the rest of the world. Her hands came up to cup his jaw, slightly scratchy with the beginning of an evening beard, and she reveled in the friction beneath her palms. He released her mouth, spreading kisses across her eyelids, her cheeks, her throat. One large hand dropped to her hips and he pressed her close against his insistent hardness.
Her gasp mingled with his tortured groan. Her eyes flew open. His were slitted, the flush of desire stamped on his face, arousal apparent in the taut skin across his cheekbones.
Mouth trembling, Kate struggled to return to an upright position, her attempt bringing another groan to his lips. He followed her up, his lips catching hers again in another deep, openmouthed kiss, his hand tangling in her hair. They devoured each other for a long moment…two…three…before Michael tore his mouth from hers.
He caught her hands in his, stilling their unconscious caressing movements across his chest. He leaned his head back, taking big, gulping breaths.
“Kate,” he rasped. His body shuddered against hers. She could feel every tremor that shook him, every breath he drew.
“Believe it or not, I didn’t come here to seduce you tonight.”
“I know,” she whispered. And she did. He’d come because he’d allowed her so much time and no more. She was to consider whether she wanted to see him again. Whether she wanted a relationship with him. Her breath hitched in her chest. “I still haven’t answered your question.”
His hand came up to rub her vertebrae, sending her arching into him. She sensed his smile before she saw it. “Yes, sweetheart, I think you have.”
The waiting room of Dr. Sachar’s office was pleasantly decorated in primary colors, with a wealth of toys designed to keep busy young hands occupied. Chloe wove a path around the room, trying all of them out, engaging the other children in conversation along the way.
Michael watched his daughter with a slight smile on his face, but his mind was occupied. Neither Kate nor Deanna had made an appearance yet, but he wasn’t really worried. Kate had promised she would be there, although she had been resolute about driving herself. She was, he was discovering, an extremely determined woman.
An idiotic grin spread across his face as he considered the way last evening had ended. She hadn’t liked his certainty about the result of her decision. But she hadn’t made it difficult to guess. Her mouth had been just as demanding as his, her breathing just as ragged. The most difficult thing he’d ever done was to say good-night to her after allowing himself one more hard, quick kiss at her door.
She wasn’t the kind of woman to leave alone too long; she thought too damn much. And she had a cautious streak running through her that he hadn’t c
ompletely figured out yet. But he had time. Time was going to be his secret weapon with her; time to let her get to know him, to drop that cautious veneer and to allow him closer. He’d give her the time she needed, but not the space. He had a feeling that the more space between them, the more walls she’d throw up. And though she was worth scaling a few walls for he was alarmingly low on patience. Last night had proved that.
The office door opened then and Kate walked in. Chloe looked up and shrieked in delight, running over to give her an exuberant hug. As Michael watched, Kate bent gracefully and returned it. Watching them together had his throat clogging inexplicably. Kate’s reserve was never present with Chloe. The warm smile was open, the caring in her eyes immediate.
“Come sit down,” he invited, his gaze feasting on the sight of her in a sky blue suit. It was a color that matched her eyes perfectly and provided a stunning foil to her hair. All in all she looked good enough for him to start howling in another minute. He contented himself with draping his arm across the back of her chair when she sat next to him, his fingers cupping her shoulder.
“You look fantastic,” he murmured close to her ear. He watched with fascination as the delicate hue of her cheeks deepened. “Is it too much to hope that you’ve sacrificed all your jumpers to an after-school bonfire?”
Her eyebrow arched. “You’re going to get snotty about my wardrobe? Careful, Friday. If I start with yours, the possibilities are endless.”
He chuckled. “You’re welcome to change whatever you want of mine. I’m open to suggestion.”
“Chloe Friday?”
Michael’s head jerked up. He followed his daughter as she sped to the nurse standing in the open doorway. The woman smiled and stepped aside, indicating that they should precede her into the inner offices. He turned and held out a hand.
“Come on, Kate.”
He drew her after him even as she protested quietly, “Michael, I think I should wait outside until the doctor wants to speak to all of us together.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. He didn’t release her hand as he followed the nurse and Chloe down a long hallway.
