Baby for Keeps

by Janice Maynard

  She wanted to talk to him during the ride home, but maybe there was nothing to say. He was a Kavanagh and she was a new mom with a baby and no real job at the moment. They had a tenuous connection at best, even though they had added a sexual component to their relationship.

  Men liked sex. Men, as a rule, took sex when it was offered. What they did not do was give up their bachelor status without a fight.

  Fortunately for Dylan, Mia had no intention of fighting. If she ever did get married, she wanted a man who wanted her. Completely. Brains and all. Dylan still wasn’t comfortable with Mia knowing about his past struggles. If Mia’s hunch was correct, no one in his family knew except for Maeve.

  She wanted to whack him over the head and get him to admit that he was a smart man in all the ways that counted. But she had a feeling he wouldn’t listen. Dylan was stubborn.

  Her brain ran in circles searching for solutions. She couldn’t turn her back on a lifetime of study and work that was significant and valuable. That would be selfish and irresponsible. But every day the prospect of staying in Silver Glen with Dylan held more and more allure.

  As they neared the turn to his property, she took a deep breath, mentally gearing up for the evening ahead. In Liam and Zoe’s bedroom, she and Dylan had seemed in perfect accord. But what would happen now?

  Gertie had left lights on to welcome them home. For Mia, the sight of Dylan’s beautiful house elicited much more than gratitude for the roof over her head. She loved the way he had made his place seem like part of the countryside. Privacy and seclusion created peace and a feeling of home in the deepest sense of the word.

  For one fleeting second, she allowed herself to acknowledge the truth. She had feelings for Dylan Kavanagh. Messy, wonderful emotions that couldn’t be organized in spreadsheets or analyzed by computer programs. Exhilaration and panic duked it out in her stomach.

  Dylan had made Mia comfortable and welcome in his home. He had been charming and gentle with Cora. He had even tried to protect Mia from his desire for her, though that hadn’t lasted long.

  But what if she admitted she was equally hungry? Would it make a difference if she told him what she wanted? Was there a chance Dylan might want something more, as well?

  She was in trouble either way. If his answer was no, she faced humiliation and hurt. But if his answer was yes, she faced another set of problems. Could she give up her career and be content as a wife and mother? No matter how wonderful living in Silver Glen might be, it would mean relinquishing an entire part of the life that had defined her since she’d become an adult.

  All of her life she had dealt with difficult challenges. But this situation she now faced would require hard choices. If she took the wrong path, the consequences for her and for Cora could be devastating.

  Thirteen

  Dylan scooped the infant seat out of the car and followed Mia up the stairs. Unlocking the front door while juggling a baby was a skill he hadn’t known he possessed, but something about it was satisfying. Cora was so innocent, so perfect. It made him feel good to know that in some small way, he was helping protect her.

  In deference to the sleeping child, they made their way across the living room without turning on additional lights. Mia had been remarkably quiet on the way home. He wondered if his mother’s veiled criticisms had pissed her off. She’d be justified.

  After they put Cora down and closed the door, he took Mia’s hand. “Let’s have some coffee and sit in front of the fire.”

  “It’s late.”

  He lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed them. “Are you going to turn into a pumpkin?” She had already kicked off her shoes. The disparity in their heights emphasized the contrast of male to female.

  Mia shrugged, her expression difficult to decipher. “I’ll change and meet you in the kitchen.”

  “Don’t,” he said gruffly. “Don’t change. Please. I have a few fantasies about this dress.”

  That brought a smile to her face. “It is a nice dress,” she said, the words demure.

  “Very user-friendly.” He cupped a hand behind her neck and massaged the spot beneath her ear. “Maybe we don’t need coffee.” He’d never brought a lover to this house. Perhaps his social skills were rusty. Or maybe he was simply losing control.

  Mia strained on her tiptoes to kiss him, her lips warm and eager against his. “I’m not at all thirsty,” she said. “Maybe we should go to bed and get some rest.”

  “Rest?” He was befuddled by her scent and by the feel of silk beneath his fingertips. Silk fabric. Silky-skinned woman.

  She drew him toward her bedroom. “We will rest. Afterward.”

  It boded well for him that Mia made no pretense of resistance. He liked not having to guess whether or not she wanted him. No mixed messages. No hidden agendas. Just a man and a woman sharing pleasure.

  For a moment, he wanted to take her to his suite...to play sexy games on his turf. But there was Cora to consider, and besides, perhaps he would regret making erotic memories in his bed when Mia was gone.

  Thinking about her departure gave him an uneasy feeling. So he shut down that particular train of thought and focused on the temptress in the red dress.

  Once the bedroom door closed, Mia stepped away from him and seemed to lose her courage. She fidgeted.

  He put his arm around her waist and walked her to the bed. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he positioned her in front of him, still standing. “You are a beautiful woman, Mia Larin, but in this dress... Lord, have mercy. It’s a good thing my heart’s in good shape.”

  Her tense posture relaxed. “You’re really good at that.”

  “At what?”

  “Making a woman feel special.”

  “You are special,” he insisted. There was doubt in her eyes, so he set out to make a believer out of her. Tracing the edge of her bodice with a fingertip, he grinned when gooseflesh erupted on her bare arms. “Do I make you nervous, Mia?”

  “A little.” Her arms hung at her sides, but her fingers curled, indicating that she was not completely at ease.

  “I’m the most amiable guy on the planet. No one is scared of me.”

  At last she moved. Running her thumb across his bottom lip, she knocked the breath out of him with her tender caress. “I don’t have a great deal of experience with men, but you’re different.”

  He didn’t know whether to be pleased or annoyed. “That doesn’t sound entirely like a compliment.”

  Her skin was pale in the dimly lit room, her dark-eyed gaze impossible to decipher. “I don’t want to fall for a guy who has carefree bachelor tattooed across his libido.” She ruffled his hair. “You make a woman want things you’re not willing to give.”

  He felt a twinge of guilt. Mia wasn’t wrong. “We never had any idea that this was anything more than fun.”

  “I know.”

  “And besides,” he said, feeling defensive, “there’s nothing for you here in Silver Glen. You know that.”

  “There’s you.” The absolute conviction in those two words rocked him on his heels.

  His heart twisted...hard. She was making herself completely vulnerable to him, but he couldn’t reciprocate. “I’m not anyone’s prize. Trust me. If you want fun and games, I’m your man. But don’t expect more from me than I can give, Mia. I thought you’d learned that lesson a long time ago.”

  Nothing on her face indicated that his blunt refusal of her unspoken request had hurt her. But she took a ragged little breath that could have meant anything. “You’re honest. I’ll give you that. I won’t embarrass you anymore. Make love to me, Dylan.”

  He felt a lick of relief that she had dropped the subject, but at the same time a raw feeling he was closing a door that might never reopen. “I can do that.” The words were forced from a tight throat.

  Tha
t damned crystal beckoned him irresistibly. He toyed with it, the backs of his fingers stroking her cleavage. “I feel like it’s Christmas morning and Santa brought me a special package wrapped in red.”

  The anticipation was almost more than he could take. But he wanted to draw out the pleasure until they were both drunk with it.

  When he tugged at the faux jewel, the zipper gave easily. Too easily. He forced himself to stop at two inches.

  Mia’s eyes closed, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. “I swear I would have pegged you as one of those guys who rips off the paper to see what’s inside.”

  He spanned her hips with his hands trying to decide if she was wearing panties. Surely so. His Mia was shy...though present evidence didn’t support such a hypothesis.

  “I am,” he admitted. “But sometimes patience is a virtue.”

  “Not at the moment,” she muttered.

  He played with the clear stone again. Such a simple thing to torment a man—but oh-so-effective. Any other day, if he and Mia had shared more than a single encounter prior to tonight, he might have submitted to his caveman instincts and yanked the sparkly pull as far down as it would go in one rash movement. Even thinking about it gave him chills.

  But he needed to work up to that. By her own admission, Mia was not widely experienced in the erotic arts. He didn’t want to scare her by coming on too strong.

  The zipper conceded another four inches. Now the dress was in danger of falling. It clung to Mia’s breasts tantalizingly, held there by nothing more than a whisper.

  When he teased her tummy with a fingertip, he evoked a surprisingly strong reaction. Mia grabbed the top of her dress and held it close, her hand batting his away. “Stop that,” she hissed. “I’m ticklish.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind.” Allowing her the pretense of holding him at bay, he took the zipper to its final destination. “Move your hands, Mia.”

  When she shook her head, a lock of dark, wavy hair fell over her almost bare shoulder. “You’re still dressed,” she protested.

  “My turn will come.” He grasped both of her wrists in one of his hands and held them away from her body. Gently, awkwardly—since he had only one hand to work with—he peeled the dress down her arms. Clearly, he hadn’t thought this through, because Mia’s bound wrists halted his progress. “Well, damn.”

  She had the audacity to laugh. “Now what? Maybe you’re not as smooth an operator as I thought.”

  “You have a sassy mouth for someone who’s supposed to be shy.”

  “I’ve changed, Dylan.”

  “I noticed.”

  The act of trapping her delicate wrists with one of his big hands had aroused him even more if that were possible. But his ultimate goal meant he had to release her in the short-term. Before she could grab the dress again, he took handfuls of the skirt and pulled. In a split second she was naked. Or almost. The tiniest pair of red undies covered only the essentials.

  * * *

  Mia took the poleaxed expression on Dylan’s face as a good sign. “Are you window shopping?” she asked politely. He sat frozen, his gaze fixed on her underwear. The intensity of his gaze made her damp in a very intimate spot. Surely he couldn’t tell.

  Dylan cleared his throat. “Let’s not ruin the dress.”

  He held her hand gallantly as she stepped out of it and tossed it toward a chair, not bothering to see if it landed properly. At the moment she was more interested in breaking Dylan free of his trance. Since he appeared to be stunned, she sat down beside him. “You’ve seen me naked before,” she teased.

  “Only once.” He ran a hand from the middle of her thigh to her knee. His darker skin against hers made her shiver.

  “I don’t mean to criticize,” she said, resting her head against his shoulder, “but there’s a good chance Cora will be waking up soon. Do you mind if we speed this up?” She reached over and began unbuttoning his shirt with her right hand. Truthfully, she wouldn’t mind if he made love to her with his tux on. Dylan was a younger, more handsome James Bond.

  Or maybe she was a tad prejudiced.

  Finally, he snapped out of it. His hand covered hers. “Stretch out on the bed, Mia.”

  It was an order. She took it as such, feeling ridiculously turned on by his air of authority. As she scooted toward the headboard, trying to act as if being mostly naked in front of a handsome man was the norm for her, Dylan stood with his hands on his hips and tracked her every move.

  When she was settled, he tugged at his bowtie, beginning an unapologetic striptease entirely for her benefit. At least she assumed that was his intention. Maybe he just didn’t like being rushed.

  First he toed off his shoes and stripped off his socks. His trousers were next. The black silk boxers he wore did little to disguise his masculinity. His thrusting erection pushed out the fabric. His excitement was evident in the small wet spot near his waist.

  He left the underwear in place and reached for the studs on his shirt. Instead of scattering them across the rug, he removed each one with painstaking slowness and dropped them into a glass dish on the dresser.

  “Take the shirt off,” she pleaded. If Cora woke up at this exact moment, Mia would die of frustration.

  Dylan complied in silence, his eyes flashing, his face flushed.

  When he was down to his one last item of clothing, she held out her hand. “Hurry. I can’t wait anymore.”

  At last he showed some evidence of the impatience she was experiencing. He strode to the bed and came down beside her on one knee. “It was worth the trouble tonight of getting into a tux for the chance to see you in that dress. But without it, I think you’re even more beautiful.”

  Before she could respond, he gathered her into his arms and rolled with her. Now she was on top with his silky drawers massaging her female bits. Shivers of anticipation raced up and down her spine. She rested her hands on his hard chest. Tonight he had looked every inch the wealthy, sophisticated Kavanagh.

  Yet here, in the intimacy of her room and her bed, Dylan’s true essence shone through. He could play the part of a civilized man about town when required. But the real Dylan, the bad boy she had met in high school, was this wild-eyed, feral male. Undomesticated. Determined to get what he wanted, no matter the cost.

  She wasn’t resisting. Why would she? Leaning down, supporting herself with one palm braced on his warm shoulder, she traced his jawline with her fingers, feeling the late-day stubble. “Your family loves you very much,” she said. “And Liam and Aidan trust your opinions. I watched them tonight. They respect and admire you.”

  His smile was lopsided. “Not that I mind being buttered up, but what’s your point?”

  She felt his hands caress her butt. Did she really want to carry on a rational conversation at this particular juncture? “Never mind,” she muttered. “It will keep.” She wriggled her bottom, making Dylan groan.

  Without second-guessing herself, she slid down in the bed and settled between his thighs. Licking gently, she dampened the silk that covered his sac. Dylan’s back arched off the bed.

  Panting, he fisted his hands in her hair. “I have a condom in my billfold,” he croaked.

  “You won’t be needing that just yet.”

  Dylan’s ragged curse ended in a moan as she gently bit his shaft through his boxers. She loved feeling him like this. His fiancée must have been insane to walk away from a man like Dylan.

  It was clear his patience was at an end when he put his hands under her arms and dragged her upward for a hot, punishing kiss. “You’re a heartless tease,” he accused.

  “All the better to seduce you, my dear.”

  He went still. “Is that who I am? A notch on your bedpost?”

  “What does that mean?” Irritated, she pulled away.

  He lay there like a great ca
t, his tawny skin radiating heat as he stared at her with an unreadable gaze. “You move in academic circles with men whose intellects are equal to yours. Is what we’re doing here your walk on the wild side?”

  She scowled, the impulse to slap him almost winning. “That’s insulting to both of us. I thought we were having fun. Clearly I was wrong.” Furious, she scrambled away from him, intent on fleeing.

  But Dylan had other ideas. One strong hand grasped her ankle and pulled her back. He sat up, gripping her shoulders and shaking her gently. “I needed to know the truth, Mia.”

  Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them back. “Why?”

  His jaw worked. “I’ve been used before. I didn’t particularly enjoy it.”

  “Well, I am using you,” she cried. “Though maybe not in the way you’re thinking. You’re housing and feeding my daughter and me. You’re paying me to do a job that any one of a dozen people in Silver Glen could have handled easily. So what does that make me? I’ve hit rock bottom. If I wanted to make love to you, it sure as hell had nothing to do with scoring some imaginary coup.”

  Their faces were mere inches apart, his breath warm on her cheek. She could see his long, thick lashes and the way they framed his beautiful, intense eyes.

  He kissed her lazily. “Fair enough. I should have known you couldn’t resist my animal magnetism.”

  Resting her forearms on his shoulders, she linked her hands behind his neck and played with his hair. “Modesty isn’t one of your strong suits, is it?”

  “I’m cursed with being irresistible to women.”

  His tongue-in-cheek humor restored her equilibrium. “Thank God you have me to take you down a peg or two. Otherwise, your head would be too big to get through the door.”

  “Hold that thought.”

  He rolled away long enough to get rid of his boxers and to grab protection. Though the banter was lighthearted, his expression was anything but. Standing beside the bed, he rolled latex over his straining shaft.