Yes, David supposed he did—and probably always had. Except he’d been too blind to see that her gentle, loving spirit was what he needed most in his life.
Every day he became more certain what he felt for her was far more than just physical. Although, the phenomenal heat between them made him worry if his mind had exaggerated how deep those feelings were.
It seemed Casey was everything he needed and wanted. Soft where he was hard, strong in ways he was weak. She was the yin to his yang and brought out the very best in him. No other woman had ever made him feel so good about himself.
“It’s not that simple, Innes.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No.” Right now, nothing would be more convenient than for him to fall in love with the mother of his baby and marry her. “I need to be sure I’m not imagining feelings for Casey simply because it’s the most expedient way for us to share custody of our baby.” Or because sex was so hot with her. “I rushed into marriage once and regretted it. I won’t do that again.”
“Aye, I understand.” Innes slapped his back. “You’ve got a wee case of cold feet.”
David opened his mouth to deny it, but then clamped it shut again. Cold feet was as good a description as any for how he felt. He simply didn’t like the insinuation he was a coward.
The truth of it was—he was scared out of his ever-loving gourd. The last thing he wanted was to foul up Casey’s life any more than he already had.
“Enough about me.” David jerked his head toward Mattie who was busy wiping sour cream dip off Holly’s dress. “How’re your new living arrangements working out?”
“Ach, that woman can drive a man to drown in his cups.”
“Oh?” David chuckled. “Holly seems pretty happy.”
“I’m not saying Matilda ain’t wonderful with me granddaughter. She just nags a man crazy. Take yer shoes off when ya come in the house,” he mimicked in a high pitched Scottish brogue. “Fold the newspaper when yer done readin’ it. Put the seat down in the john when yer finished. On and on she blabbers. The woman’s got more rules than the bloody Church.”
“Sounds like she needs to be kissed.” Paul chuckled as he sauntered up and joined them. “She can’t keep harpin’ on you if you’ve got her in a lip lock, can she?”
McKinnon’s chest shook with laughter. “Aye.” He elbowed Paul in the ribs. “Can you imagine ‘er reaction if I upped and kissed ‘er next time she starts waggin’ ‘er finger at me?”
“Seems like a plan to me.” David smiled, stiffening when he saw Casey wince and rub her lower back. “Excuse me. Someone doesn’t know her limitations.”
He strode across the living room and snatched the tray of canapés from her. He set them on the cherry coffee table, steered her to one of the big stuffed armchairs she’d ordered, and lowered her into it. “It’s time for you to get off your feet.”
“But I still have to serve dinner,” she argued.
“Oh, no, you don’t. If I’d known you were gonna get so crazy over this party, I never would’ve agreed to it.”
“Well, you did.” She pushed herself up on the arms of the chair. “And dinner isn’t going to walk itself into the dining room.”
“Yes, it will.” He pressed her back into the chair. “Everyone can serve themselves.”
He had a bi-weekly service that did the heavy cleaning, but ever since Casey had moved into the house, she’d insisted on taking over the daily chores of cooking and doing the dishes and laundry to do her share as she’d put it. But that had to stop. She was too far along in her pregnancy to be pushing herself that way. First thing tomorrow morning, he was calling an agency to check into hiring some daily domestic help.
He raised his voice above the buzz of conversation in the room. “Can I have everyone’s attention, please? As of this moment, I’m confining Casey to a chair for the duration of the evening. There’s an antipasto salad, garlic bread, chicken Marsala, and a tray of baked manicotti in the kitchen. I’m sure some of you won’t mind bringing everything into the dining room, and then we’ll all sit down and enjoy it together.”
“Not at all,” Emma said. “I remember how my back felt during the last month or two.” All the women at the party immediately leapt to the task of serving dinner.
“See?” He spread his arms wide and smiled at Casey. “Problem solved.”
She glared at him as all the men began moving into the dining room for dinner. “Nothing like making a girl feel expendable, huh?”
He sank onto the arm of her chair and rubbed his lips in her floral-scented hair, murmuring, “You’ve done way too much today, Tinkerbelle. I’m not gonna let you jeopardize our baby over a stupid party.”
“Tyrant.” She stuck her tongue out at him.
“Hold that thought”—he winked—“until after our company leaves.”
“Oh, I see.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Serving dinner is too strenuous for me, but training for the next bedroom Olympics isn’t, huh?”
“Not if you spend the remainder of the evening resting up for our games.” He tweaked her nose. “If you’re a good girl and stay in your seat during dinner, you can help serve dessert.”
“Don’t you mean I can be dessert?” she muttered.
“Okay.” He wiggled his eyebrows and helped her out of the chair to join their guests in the dining room. “I never reject a spectacular idea when I hear one.”
~*~
Okay, so maybe she was overreacting a tad. Normally, Casey would’ve been amused by David’s teasing and sexual banter. However, present circumstances being what they were, she found it hard to laugh.
His overprotective father act and blatant lust made it impossible to delude herself that her role in his life was anything more than his child’s incubator and a handy bedmate to help him get over the pain and loneliness from his divorce. Plain and simple.
It was her own darn fault she was in this position. David had never pretended their relationship would be anything more than two people enjoying each other for the duration. In fact, his staunch determination to keep things light and superficial was the basis of his entire take-each-day-as-it-comes attitude.
Every time the mood between them turned remotely intimate or serious, a strange expression washed over his face that looked like a combination of terror and guilt. Then he immediately changed the subject or made a joke.
Andy was right. Casey would end up getting her heart shattered. Regrettably, it was too late to turn back now. Putting an end to her nights in his arms would be as hard as a toddler giving up sucking her thumb.
~*~
Following dessert and a rowdy game of charades pitting the women against the men, Casey sat in the chair David dragged into the foyer and said good-bye to each of their guests. They gradually left a few at a time, until Andy and Paul were the only ones remaining.
Casey had to commend her friend. Andy had been nothing but gracious to Paul all evening—despite that every time he tried to draw her into a private conversation, she dragged someone else into it.
“So how ‘bout it, Andy?” Paul slung his arm around her shoulder. “Would you mind giving me a lift home and save Dave the trip?”
Evidently, Paul had dropped his Jeep off at the garage for servicing after work and caught a ride to the party with one of his nurses who had to pass by there.
“You’re in on this aren’t you?” Andy’s accusing gaze swung to David.
“In on what?” He glanced between the two of them, flashing an innocent smile.
She jerked her thumb at Paul. “On this conniving idiot’s seduction scheme to get me back to his house tonight.”
“Andy,”—David turned his palms up—“if you’re not comfortable taking Paul home, just say so. I’ll be happy to drive—”
“Right. Then you’ll all call me paranoid, and I’ll feel guilty about making you go out of your way when I’m driving right past his hous—”
“Are you listening to yourself?” Casey cut her off.
“You sound like one of those conspiracy theory nuts. Just take the man home, already. He’s not gonna force you into his house at gunpoint to look at his etchings.”
Paul cocked an eyebrow at Andy. “I think the problem is, deep down, you really want to come home with me, but you’re chicken. You’re afraid, once we’re alone, your resolve to resist me will weaken.” He tucked his thumbs in his armpits and flapped his elbows. “Bruck-bruck-brawwwwk.”
Andy huffed and flung open the front door. “Do you have any idea how immature and egotistical you are?”
“Yes.” Paul grinned and followed her out the door. “But I consider it two of my more endearing qualities.”
“Think again, buster.”
Their squabbling continued down the sidewalk to the driveway as David closed and locked the door. “I thought they’d never leave.” He scooped Casey up from her chair.
“What’re you doing!” She wiggled in his arms.
“Taking you upstairs.” He climbed the steps to the second floor. “I snuck up here a few minutes ago and started a bubble bath for you. The tub should be just about full by now.”
The word tub was a gross understatement. The Jacuzzi in the master suite was more like a mini swimming pool with its own separate water heater. It took at least ten minutes to fill.
“I need to finish cleaning up downstairs.”
“No, you don’t.” He set her on her feet in the steamy bathroom. “I’ll take care of the mess in the morning.”
“You have office hours,” she argued, breathing the lilac scent of her bath.
“I’ll get up early.” He lowered the zipper on her sundress and nibbled on the curve of her neck. “Next week, I’ll be sending some applicants by for you to interview. I want you to hire someone to clean in the mornings and help take care of the baby once he’s born.”
“Aren’t you happy with the job I’ve been doing?” Or maybe this was a preemptive move to make her more dispensable.
“Of course I am.” He stripped her dress over her head. “The point of you staying here this summer was for you to rest—not to clean my house and cook for me.”
Kicking off her white sandals, she unclasped her bra. Wearing just her lacy underpants, she sank onto the marble ledge around the giant tub. “But I enjoy doing those things for you.”
“Except, since you’ve been living here, you haven’t stopped to take a breath.” He plucked the buttons open on his silk shirt and shrugged out of it, kicking off his loafers. “When I asked you to fix up the house this summer, I meant for you to do it at your leisure—not to finish it in three weeks.”
“Well, the decorating is done now. I have nothing better to do with my days than to do laundry and cook. There’s no need to hire someone.” She hooked her thumbs in the elastic waistband of her panties and wiggled out of them. “It’s the least I can do to earn my keep around here.”
“You’re having my baby, for Pete’s sake. If anyone should feel indebted, it’s me.”
Clearly he still thought of her as his child’s surrogate mother. Would he ever think of her as his partner in parenthood and allow her to assume equal responsibility for their baby?
“This is my child, too, David.”
“I know that. I just don’t want you saddled with the housework.” He sat next to her and peeled off his socks. “It’s too convenient having you here as it is.”
“Too convenient?” She narrowed her gaze and turned to him. “Would you care to explain that?”
“It’s just....you’re makin’ it too easy for me to drift into a relationship I’m not ready for. My divorce was final less than six weeks ago.”
In other words, he didn’t want her filling any of the voids Brianna left in his life—except the one in his bed. She’d told Andy she was willing to settle for whatever he could give her, hoping that in time he might fall for her. But evidently, getting his itch scratched by her was blinding him to how much more they could mean to each other.
“I see.” She swung her feet into the tub and slid into the warm, fragrant bubbles, eyeing his straining zipper. “It’s okay for me to wash your Willy, but having me launder your skivvies is a bit too much intimacy for you.”
His erection sprang forth as he shucked his pants and shorts in one motion. “Think about how ridiculous what you just said is.”
“I already have.” She reached up and pressed her hand against his muscled chest to stop him from climbing into the tub with her. She didn’t want to do this, but the preservation of her dignity required it. “From now on, I’ll just concentrate on the laundry and dishes. I don’t want to make anything too convenient for you.”
~*~
“Damn it,” David muttered under his breath. He’d made a complete mess of this. “Tinkerbelle, you’ve misconstrued everything I was saying.”
“No, I don’t think I have. The only mistake I’ve made was getting involved with you in the first place.”
He stood next to the tub and studied her rosy face framed by tiny tendrils curling around it from the humidity in the bathroom. Inasmuch as he hated having her pissed at him, he loved how beautiful she looked when she flushed in anger.
Why the hell wouldn’t she feel as if he were only interested in her body? Making love with her was so phenomenal he’d been acting like a randy teenager.
Gradually, the ramifications of what she’d said sunk in, making his chest feel as if he’d just had open-heart surgery. “So you’re saying you don’t want me to sleep or bathe with you anymore?”
“What I want and what’s good for me aren’t always the same thing.” She dropped her yearning gaze to his erection, causing it to swell further. “I think it would be best if you moved back to the guest room.”
Best for whom? The desire burning in her eyes said she didn’t want to end things between them either.
Didn’t it mean something that the thought of not holding her or feeling his baby move against him while he slept hurt as much as if he’d been eviscerated? And shouldn’t it count for something that he hadn’t experienced this feeling of total abandonment since James died?
He kicked his discarded clothing into the corner of the bathroom and heaved a resigned breath. His hard-on screamed at him to say whatever it took to change her mind. Except, his Johnson had never given him the wisest advice in the past.
Casey was right. He had to prove to her and himself that the feelings growing between them were real and would only deepen with time, regardless of any physical relationship.
Besides, she’d started her third trimester. As excited as she always got him, he’d begun to worry he’d get too rough. It was probably better if he simply abstained.
He plucked a washcloth from the pile on the glass shelf and knelt beside the tub. “I have a better idea. Let’s play Pampered Harem Girl, instead.”
Her outraged gaze widened. “Have you listened to anything I’ve said? How can you come on to—”
“Yes, I have.” He lathered the washcloth and scrubbed her back. “Casey, I’m not trying to seduce you. I just want you to consider another alternative.”
Her eyes narrowed to two suspicious slits. “Go ahead.”
“I agree with you. No more intercourse. But at this point, sleeping and showering with you is my only physical connection with our baby. Please don’t make me give that up.”
She scooped up a handful of bubbles and silently studied them for several moments while he continued washing her. Finally, she asked, “What’re the rules to this Harem Girl game?”
He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I’ll be your doting servant and take care of all your needs the same way a eunuch would look after a sultan’s concubine.”
“Like bathing me?”
“Uh-huh. Since you’re the sultan’s favorite and carrying his heir, I would be extra attentive to you in hope of gaining your favor.”
Flicking a glance down at his manhood, she smirked. “Wasn’t the whole purpose of using eunuchs to loo
k after the harem because they didn’t get turned on?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “So I’ll have to ignore my male urges.”
She stretched her foot out to the faucet and caught a droplet of water on her toe. “That sounds pretty one-sided.”
“Yes,” he rasped, moving the soapy washcloth over her lush breasts. “But you’re right. I need to take a step back and leave my libido out of our relationship. I don’t want to take advantage of you, Tinkerbelle.”
Her nipples peeked between the bubbles and tempted his fingers to tweak them. He fought the impulse and dragged the terrycloth down her belly to wash between her legs. Sliding lower in the tub, she closed her eyes in response, clearly surrendering to his suggestion.
“I’ll paint your toenails, rub lotion on your back—”
“Tie my sneakers,” she gasped when he released the washcloth and used just his hand to wash her.
“Absolutely. Anything you find difficult to do for yourself.”
Her voice rose an octave. “A pr-pregnant woman would be crazy to turn down the chance to play a game like that.”
And he was counting on her being of sound mind.
“In addition to that,”—he lowered his voice to just a whisper and slipped a finger inside her slick heat— “eunuchs also gave their mistresses pleasure if the Sultan neglected them for too many nights.”
Her hips rocked in time with his stroking fingers, and she moaned. “None of this seems very fair to you.”
“I’m making the rules, so let me worry about what’s fair. Just because I’ll be celibate, doesn’t mean your PC muscles should be neglected.” He smiled as her panting turned desperate. “And we want a happy baby.”
“Oh, yeah.” A sharp gasp cut her chuckle short as he found her sweet spot. “We definitely don’t w-want to deprive her of her endorphins.”
“Him.” He winced at the pressure mounting in his groin while her body shuddered violently.
Damn, he loved watching her come apart. Never before had he enjoyed a woman’s pleasure as much as if it were his own. His only problem would be surviving his masochistic little game without gangrene setting into his dick.
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