Colonel Daddy

by Maureen Child

  “Give?”

  “The middle name, Major. Let’s have it.” He crooked one finger at her.

  “It’s not nearly as...interesting as yours.”

  “Undoubtedly,” he admitted. “Still. Fair’s fair.”

  “It’s Marie,” she said. “Katherine Marie.”

  He looked at her for the space of several heartbeats, then smiled softly. “It’s beautiful.”

  Something inside her trembled.

  “You’re beautiful,” he added, and leaned toward her again. “Lord, I’ve missed you, Kate.”

  “Thomas...,” she said on a sigh and wasn’t sure if she’d meant it as an invitation or a warning. His eyes flashed and in their depths she read his hunger. His desire. She recognized it effortlessly because she was sure the same emotions were glittering in her own eyes. It happened every time he got within three feet of her.

  But this wasn’t supposed to happen tonight. Their first real chance to talk since she’d arrived in California, heaven knew they had plenty to talk about. All afternoon she’d reminded herself that this was a night for conversation—not for picking up where they left off in Japan.

  Steeling herself with that thought, she unsnapped her seat belt, opened the truck door and swiveled to climb out.

  “Kate?”

  She turned to look at him. With a helpless shrug she said, “If you start kissing me now, Thomas, we’ll never get anything settled.”

  He pulled in a deep breath, held it, then exhaled in a rush. Nodding briskly, he muttered, “You’re right. First things first.”

  When they met at the back of the truck and he took her arm to escort her into the restaurant, though, he paused, waiting until she looked up at him. “But you have to know how much I want you, Kate.”

  She shivered beneath his touch and the fiery sparks in his eyes. “Believe me, Thomas,” she assured him. “I know.”

  The Pasta Pot was small, and the crowd friendly. A veritable jungle of flowers and ivy spilled out of baskets hanging from the wide oak beams overhead. Candles dotted every table and the flickering flames looked like fireflies in the atmospheric gloom.

  On a weeknight, there was no wait for a table, and Tom walked behind Kate and the hostess to a corner booth in the back. Once their orders had been taken by a waitress who attended them promptly, Tom turned his full attention on Kate.

  “It’s pretty,” she said, glancing around the room as the muted strains of Beethoven floated to them from the overhead speakers.

  “Food’s good, too,” he said.

  Her gaze slid to his. “This is so weird.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed and reached across the gleaming oak table to lay one hand over hers. “But we’ll work it out.”

  At that, something inside her seemed to burst. She started talking, and the words poured from her like water from an upended bucket

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” she started with a shake of her head. “How can we do this? How can we get married? We hardly know each other.”

  “We knew each other well enough to make a baby,” he pointed out.

  “A baby.” She propped her elbows on the table and cradled her head in her hands. “Ohmigod. How can I be a mother?” she muttered, more to herself than to him. “I can’t cook, I don’t sew,” she threw him a wild look. “I can’t even bake cookies, for Pete’s sake! Shouldn’t a mother know how to bake cookies? Isn’t that a requirement?”

  “I don’t think so,” he said and tried to smile. “As far as I know, you don’t have to be able to chop wood, stoke a fire or slaughter your own meat anymore, either.”

  She groaned and shook her head. “You don’t understand, Thomas. I don’t even keep plants. They always die. No matter what I do,” she went on, now tangling her fingers together and squeezing. “Too little water, too much water, no fertilizer, too much fertilizer, sunlight, shade...doesn’t matter. I kill ’em all.”

  “Kate...” He smiled. “It’s not the same thing.”

  “An indiscriminate plant killer, Thomas.” She met his gaze, and he saw with heartstopping clarity the sheen of tears beginning to well in her eyes. “I’ve been blacklisted in every garden nursery from here to Guam. So I ask you,” she added as she blinked those tears back, “is this the kind of person who should be a mother?”

  He slid closer to her on the maroon leather booth seat and pulled her into his arms for a quick hug. Something inside him tightened painfully, then relaxed again with an almost painful release. “You’ll be great” he said confidently.

  “How can you know that?”

  “Because you care so damn much,” he whispered. “That’s all the baby will need. Heck, that’s all the three of us will need to make this work, Kate. Caring.” He ran one finger along her cheek gently. “If we care enough, everything else will take care of itself.” Tom repeated that last phrase to himself silently and hoped to God he was right. “Trust me, Kate.”

  Four

  Every night for three nights running, he took her out, determined, as he said, to get this whirlwind courtship up and running. Dinner the first night, a movie the second and a play at the Performing Arts Center the third. And after every date, he gave her a kiss at her front door and left

  At first, she’d thought it sweet. As if they really were just beginning to date. But lately, she’d begun to wonder if he simply didn’t want her anymore.

  Maybe taking a pregnant woman to bed didn’t rank high on his list of priorities. And then again, maybe he was already resenting her. Resenting the baby and this marriage and trying to find a discreet way out of it.

  Kate wrapped her arms around her tightly and threw a glance at the old, walnut mantel clock perched on a low bookcase near the drape-covered front window. In ten minutes he would be pulling up out front to take her to the Starlight Room in Seal Beach for dancing.

  Dancing.

  She glanced down at the black dress and three-inch heels she wore. All dressed up and now she didn’t want to go anywhere. What she wanted was a chance to find out if Thomas still felt anything for her or if he was simply picking up a burden he accepted as his responsibility.

  Damn it, she needed to know. She loved him. Always had. But how would he ever come to love her if he already resented her? And what kind of life would their child have, growing up in a house cold with dislike?

  No. If that was their future, she had to know it now. When there was still time to change it. Single motherhood could cost her her career, and heaven knew the very idea of raising a child on her own terrified her—but those options were preferable to life with a man who couldn’t stand the thought of touching her.

  From outside came the deep rumble of his truck’s engine. Kate’s heartbeat staggered as she walked to the door. Her full black skirt swished around her knees, her heels tapped lightly against the polished wood floor. A swirl of nerves rose up in the pit of her stomach, but she reminded herself that this was the man she loved. The man whose touch could melt her bones. This time her stomach did a series of flipflops, and she took several breaths to settle it. Now was not the time for her sporadic morning-afternoonnight sickness to kick in.

  She opened the door and watched as he hurried up the walk. His dark brown jacket, tan pants, white shirt and dark green tie suited him every bit as well as jeans and T-shirts or his uniform. No doubt about it, he was a gorgeous man, and just looking at him sent ripples of anticipation running along her spine.

  It was time to discover if he still felt the same.

  As he approached, he shot a wary glance toward Evie’s door. Since that first night, Evie had waylaid him twice more and each time had been more reluctant to let him go than the time before.

  He sprinted the last few steps and slipped inside. Only when the door was safely closed behind him did he take a moment to look at her. A slow smile crossed his face and he whistled, low and long.

  “Major, you look fantastic.”

  “Thanks,” she said and led the way to the living room.
/>   “Are you set to go?” he asked. “Our dinner reservations are for seven-thirty.”

  “Would you mind if we didn’t go out?” She sat down on the sofa and waited while he crossed the room to take a seat beside her. Not too close. Not too far away.

  “Are you feeling all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “I just don’t feel like dancing, I guess.”

  “Okay,” Tom leaned back into the cushions and folded his arms across his chest to keep from reaching for her. That black dress of hers should be against the law, he thought, as a tight fist of desire slugged him in the stomach. The low-cut, vee neckline was enough to destroy a man, dragging his gaze to the swell of her breasts and then denying him a peek.

  She leaned toward him slightly, and his eyes narrowed. The tops of her breasts pillowed against the black, slinky fabric and the contrasts of pale and dark shook him to the bone. He’d been trying to give her what she wanted. A chance for them to come to know each other. The time to ease into what would be their new relationship. But if something didn’t snap soon, he would.

  There was just so much a man could take.

  “Thomas,” she said, her voice a whispered hush, intimate, sexy. “I’d rather just stay in tonight, if you don’t mind.”

  Mind? He’d like nothing better than to have her to himself for a few hours. Preferably naked, of course.

  He didn’t say so, though. “Sure. Whatever you want.”

  Still she leaned toward him, and he felt his control weakening even as one part of his body became granite hard. Her light, floral scent drifted to him, tearing at his insides, filling his mind with erotic memories of nights spent in this woman’s arms.

  He wanted her more than his next breath, and there was no use denying it any longer. She was pregnant with his child, they would be married soon and none of that mattered. All that counted now was the shimmer in her eyes and the emptiness of his arms.

  He leaned in toward her.

  Kate held her breath as he drew closer. Her heart fluttered wildly in her chest, her lungs strained for the air she was suddenly too weak to give them, and her mouth went completely dry.

  It was still there. That passionate bond between them. She felt its strength.

  Electricity dazzled the air as it had from the moment they’d met three years before. He reached for her, and when his hand cupped the back of her head, drawing her down toward him, she felt the sizzling imprint of each of his fingers. Close. So close. His breath brushed against her, soft and warm. She inhaled the sharp, tangy scent of his cologne and fell into the hot, liquid center of his eyes.

  Then his mouth dusted across hers. Once. Twice. Gently at first as if retracing a route that was both familiar and new to him. Air staggered into her lungs. Her mind went deliciously blank just as her body kicked into startled life.

  All she could think of was Thomas. The nearness of him. And the long, lonely months they’d been apart.

  As if he sensed her feelings and shared them, he groaned deeply, snaked his free arm around her waist and dragged her across the small space separating them.

  Tearing his mouth from hers, he buried his face in the crook of her neck, teeth nibbling, tongue adoring. And in between lavish kisses, he murmured, “You taste so good. Smell so incredible. I’ve missed you, Kate. More than you’ll ever know. I’ve missed you.”

  “Oh, Thomas,” she whispered, letting her head fall back on her neck, inviting his kiss, his touch. “It’s been too long.”

  “Three months, Kate,’ he said on another groan and ran the tips of his fingers down the vee neckline of her dress. “Damn, but right now it feels like years.”

  She shivered and lifted herself up in his arms, arching her breasts toward him, hoping he would push the soft fabric aside and take her flesh into his hands. Kate reached for his tie and with trembling fingers undid the knot and popped free the first two buttons of his shirt. She slid one hand beneath the white cotton and trailed her palm across his skin, delighting in the warm, solid strength of him.

  He tensed beneath her touch. She felt his muscles bunch as he shifted position on the couch and pulled her into his lap. Beneath her, his hard body tightened further, and she wiggled her hips, deliberately torturing them both.

  Lifting his head, he caught her eye and gave her a slow, wicked grin. “Want to play, huh?” Then his right hand skimmed up the length of her silk-clad legs and under the hem of her dress.

  She gasped and held her breath as his fingers danced along her inner thighs, coming to rest at the top of her garter-held stockings.

  A throb of pure, feminine pleasure rocked her. She knew very well what stockings did to him. Had discovered that particular weakness of his their first week together, in Hawaii. Ruthlessly she’d exploited that weakness since, every chance she got. In a brief, detailed flash, the memory of that first time shot through her mind on Fast Forward.

  Dressing for dinner while he showered, she’d just finished adjusting her black lace garter belt when he’d stepped from the bathroom ringed by a cloudy mist of hot steam.

  He’d taken one look at her, dropped his towel and informed her they’d be calling for room service. Then, she recalled hazily, he’d spent the next half hour working those garters free with his teeth.

  Even the memory had deep heat pooling in her center and she trembled in response.

  “You’re killing me here, Kate,” he mumbled and dipped his head to taste the pulse point at the base of her throat. At the same time, his fingertips crept higher, sliding across black silk, then creamy, smooth flesh to find the warm heart of her, hidden beneath a wisp of lace.

  As his hand cupped her and she squirmed in his grasp, he proved he, too, had a good memory by whispering, “Room service?”

  She moaned tightly and caught his face between her palms. “We’ll call for pizza later,” she said, then kissed him with everything she had.

  Who the hell needed pizza? he thought.

  He had all he wanted right here in his arms.

  She shifted slightly in his grasp, turning toward him, brushing her breasts against his chest, and he suddenly wanted to tear her dress away so that he could lose himself in the soft, creamy texture of her skin. He wanted—no, needed—to feel her again. To touch her, explore her body as if for the first time.

  His right hand slid from the center of her heat to smooth across the lacy garters and the tops of her nylons. He knew she wore the things to drive him insane. And damn it, it worked every time.

  In the months apart from her, she’d crowded his dreams. The memories of her long, stocking-clad legs tortured him. Visions of her soft blue eyes haunted him. Snatches of her laughter plagued his memory. And now she was here. And it was almost more than he could stand.

  He had to have her. Had to watch passion and pleasure darken her eyes. Had to bury himself within her. Claim her as he’d done before. Feel the release and the sweet satisfaction he’d only found with her.

  He wanted to hear his name sigh from her lips as her body convulsed around his.

  His blood roaring in his ears, Tom bent his head to kiss her, plundering her mouth with his tongue, driving the air from her lungs and into his. She moaned, from deep in her throat, and the soft, strangled sound shattered what little control he had left

  Lifting his head again, he flipped the hem of her skirt back to her waist, exposing her trim, white thighs and the black silk covering them.

  He looked his fill and fed the blood rushing to his groin. Rock hard and ready, he ran the flat of his band across her thigh and up, toward the heat waiting for him.

  “Thomas!” she whispered brokenly even as her hips arched slightly off his lap and into his hand.

  “I need you, Kate,” he muttered and his voice strained with the desire nearly choking him. “Now. I need you now.”

  “Now,” she urged breathlessly.

  His fingertips slipped beneath the flimsy strip of elastic lining the morsel of black lace that was her panties. In a heartbea
t, with a flick of his wrist, he’d torn it aside.

  Kate trembled, but he read the passion in her eyes and knew she was as hungry as he. Knew she felt the same fire building inside.

  It had always been like this between them.

  Heat. Steam. Overpowering need.

  His fingertips brushed her core and she moaned. Again, he touched her, smoothing his fingers across the soft, tender flesh, adjusting his caresses according to the whimpers issuing from her throat.

  Kate lifted herself into his hand, wanting him to touch her deeper, harder. More than anything, she needed to feel connected to him. She’d been so alone these past few months. Had felt even more so since learning about the baby. Her mind and heart had been torn. Her world left crumbling around her, and until now there’d been nothing to hold on to. No one.

  Or so she’d thought.

  But there had been Thomas. When she’d needed his support most, he’d given it to her without hesitation. He’d dated her and courted her. And now, he gave her the closeness she’d craved. And the knowledge that, yes, he did still want her. Did still feel the powerful, emotional bond that existed between them.

  His fingers dipped into her warmth and she trembled at the gentle yet determined invasion. So right, So right. Her hips bucked as his touch electrified her body, sending every nerve into humming awareness.

  Again and again, he touched her, his fingers, his thumb brushing across her most sensitive spot. His mouth took hers and she held his face between her palms. Parting his lips with her tongue, she imitated the movement of his fingers, darting in and out of his mouth until he was as breathless as she.

  Fireworks exploded inside her. She felt the heat. Saw the colors flash from beneath her closed eyes. Greedy for him, as she’d always been, she held him tightly, her fists closing on his shirt at the shoulders.

  They’d always had this, she told herself. No matter what else had occurred between them, this sexual magic existed. Real and powerful, it careened wildly around them like ball lightning captured inside a tiny room with nowhere to go.