My Baby, My Love

by Dani Sinclair

  “Turn around,” he said again.

  A moment ago, she’d been certain she barely had the energy to fall into bed. Leave it to her hormones to send out a wake-up call.

  Noah apparently decided she was unable to comprehend his direction. Gently, but firmly, he turned her around with a swift economy of motion. Sydney desperately tried to contain a tremor of physical excitement. Tingles coursed through her body at the touch of his broad hands. A sweep of heat stirred low in her belly, powerfully exhilarating.

  She told herself that she was grateful Noah could be so impersonal. But that was a lie, too. A foolish, feminine part of her wanted this arrangement to bother Noah as much as it did her. His fingertips brushed her bare skin, making her shiver. Did his hands linger a bit longer than necessary or was that her highly charged imagination at work?

  “Do you want help getting into a nightgown?”

  His voice was so calm, so unaffected. She should have been glad. She didn’t want him interested in her in a sensual way. Did she?

  A tiny voice cried, Yes.

  “Sydney? Is something wrong?”

  “Yes.” Desire was sliding along her nerve endings like tiny flashes of electricity. She twisted to face him. “I’m not some mannequin you offered to dress and undress.”

  His mouth opened to protest, but the words were never uttered. His gaze was snagged by the expanse of bare skin revealed as the dress slipped down her shoulder. The air practically crackled as he lifted his gaze to hers.

  Noah wasn’t as uninterested as he pretended.

  “I prefer sleeping nude,” she said quietly. His eyes darkened, absorbing her words, and she added, “Like you.”

  Noah cleared his throat. “Uh, for tonight, I think we’d both better make an exception.” He reached out to tug at the drooping shoulder and his knuckles brushed her bare shoulder. He froze. So did she.

  “I’ll let you finish while I use the bathroom,” he said abruptly.

  Sydney watched his precise, military pivot with a combination of relief, amusement and dejection. Face it. She was wickedly attracted to Noah, whether she should be or not. Maybe she could blame it all on hormones. The doctor had said a woman’s hormones changed during pregnancy.

  “Sydney?” His voice was only slightly muffled by the bathroom door. “You’re nothing like a mannequin.”

  Ridiculously, she found herself smiling. The smile became a grin that widened as she began searching for a nightgown. She selected one at random and worked the dress down and off one-handed. The nightgown’s nylon material proved slippery, but she finally managed to pull it on.

  She loved sexy, frilly personal garments, but a glance in the mirror over the dresser gave her pause. Had she chosen this particular gown subconsciously because she wanted Noah to notice her? The fitted bodice cupped her breasts, while the silky peach nylon molded itself to her body.

  No. Attracting men had never been a priority with her. Her first instinct was to take the gown off and find something a little less provocative, but all her gowns were a similar style. Hadn’t Noah made it abundantly clear that while he might find her attractive, he wasn’t lusting after her? She climbed into the empty bed and was struggling to pull up the covers when Noah returned.

  “Here. I’ll get them.”

  She’d been right. The gown didn’t disturb him a bit. It was enough to make a woman grit her teeth. Noah wore jogging shorts and a T-shirt that emphasized his strong legs and well-honed body.

  Must be hormones, she decided. Finding him attractive was bad enough. Lusting after his body was insane.

  “I’ll tuck you in,” Noah offered. His hair was damp and he smelled so good she could have lain there and drunk in the scent of him forever. She really was losing it. Thank heavens Noah was back in his detached mode. She should be glad one of them was being sensible.

  But she wasn’t.

  In the act of stepping back, Noah surprised them both by reaching down to tenderly brush the hair back from her face. Sydney trembled. His eyes deepened with intensity. The air practically crackled between them.

  “You could use another aspirin, I think,” he said finally.

  “I…took some ibuprofen in the bathroom.” She shut her eyes to avoid looking at him while the wanting hammered at her soul. Now that she had his attention, she wasn’t sure what to do with it. “I’m just tired.” A great excuse for idiocy.

  “I know.”

  The compassion in his voice snapped her eyes open. “Noah?”

  Impulsively, she reached for his hand.

  Touching him was a big mistake. She was too needy tonight, and his fingers were warm, imparting strength where they clasped hers.

  “What was Laura doing there?” Sydney managed to ask.

  Noah knew Sydney probably blamed herself for what had happened to her friend, but if there was any guilt to assign it was his. He should have thought to protect Laura better after someone tore up her apartment. He shouldn’t have left that message on the answering machine where anyone could have found it and played it back.

  “There was mail on the ground, Sydney. Yours and Jerome’s.”

  Stricken, Sydney stared at him. “She said she’d check the apartment mail for me.”

  “And I left her a message on the answering machine telling her where we were so she wouldn’t worry.”

  “I meant to call her myself, Noah. I just forgot with everything that’s been happening. Why did she come here tonight?”

  “We’ll have to wait until she can tell us.” But he’d had several thoughts along that line, all of which he’d shared with the police and the FBI during the long wait at the hospital.

  “We look a lot alike,” Sydney said quietly. “Especially in the dark. We both have long brown hair.”

  Noah wished she hadn’t made that particular connection, but he wasn’t surprised. Sydney was an intelligent woman. “I told Agent Wickowski about the men who were at the house today.”

  “I didn’t see him at the hospital.”

  She rose on her elbow, causing the blanket to dip. The smooth expanse of her upper chest lay enticingly exposed, plunging to the deep vee of her bodice. His gaze skated over the view, wanting to stop and linger.

  “He wasn’t at the hospital. I called him when I went to get you that fruit juice. Wickowski knows his job, Sydney. If there’s a connection, he or the police will find it.”

  “There was no reason for anyone to hurt Laura.”

  The pain in her voice reached inside him, stirring his guilt. He sat beside her on the bed. The mattress sank, causing her to roll toward him, against his hip. She had such wide, expressive eyes. He wanted to remove the pain that lingered there, but all he could do was stroke her cheek with the back of a knuckle while his own chest tightened with suppressed emotion.

  “They thought she was me, didn’t they?”

  “I don’t know.”

  But he could guess. And that guess had been troubling him all evening. If any of those men had been involved in the robbery, finding Sydney at the house this afternoon must have come as quite a shock. Either they mistook Laura for Sydney when they caught her there alone tonight, or Laura’s beating had been intended as a warning to Sydney to keep her mouth shut. Either way, Noah was firmly convinced all these events were somehow related to the bank robbery.

  “There’s no point speculating, Sydney,” he told her gently. “We’re going to have to wait until Laura can give us some information.”

  “I feel responsible.”

  “So do I.” He kissed her forehead, intending to stand and move away. Sydney surprised him by reaching out, lightly touching the side of his face. Without thinking about it, he turned his face into her palm, kissing the smooth surface.

  Her eyes widened, then the long silky lashes fluttered down to block them from his view. In an unconscious action, her tongue peeked out to moisten her lips.

  “I lied to you,” she said.

  His muscles contracted. He needed to walk away righ
t now. Because if he didn’t, his brother’s wife or not, he was going to give in to this attraction he’d been fighting from the start and do something stupid—like kiss those compellingly sensual lips.

  “What did you lie about?”

  “I said I could take care of myself. But right now—” she swallowed hard, her expression totally defenseless “—right now I’m very glad you’re here.”

  He studied the curve of her cheek, surprised that he felt as if he already knew each line and plane of her face. Simple lust he could deal with, but looking at Sydney, he knew none of the things he was feeling was simple.

  This was Jerome’s wife.

  Noah realized he didn’t care.

  She’d said they never had a normal marriage. Jerome was dead. Noah didn’t owe his brother a thing. At least, not where Sydney was concerned. In fact, very much the opposite.

  “I’ll be here, Sydney. I’m not going anywhere.” Instead of a promise, the words sounded suspiciously like a vow.

  Sydney regarded him with a banked longing he could almost taste. Their tenuous magnetism, never far from the surface, now lay exposed in the gaze she fastened so raptly on his mouth. His muscles tightened. Her lips parted in silent invitation.

  His heart began beating a crazy tattoo. “Sydney?”

  She raised her eyes. The slight hitch in her breathing acted as a spur. Slowly, unable to help himself, Noah leaned over and covered her lips with his own.

  Her lips clung sweetly, incredibly soft. Her hand clasped the back of his neck in subtle, unknowing encouragement. Need, insistent and forceful, seared his gut.

  She made a small sound low in her throat. Her lips parted further, inviting a deeper kiss. Noah surrendered to the unbearable temptation to sample her mouth, touching her tongue, exploring her inner warmth. In a heartbeat, the kiss threatened to go all hot and wild and demanding. Noah managed to pull back, shocked by the strength of his desire to cover her mouth and body and taste her completely.

  Far from looking offended, Sydney’s expression held only poignant yearning. Arousal suffused her cheeks with enticing pink color and darkened her eyes with the same need clawing at his gut. He wanted her—and she wasn’t saying no. But surrendering now to the sweetness of her unspoken invitation was to invite disaster. She’d regret it in the morning.

  He’d regret it as well. There was too much between them—and not enough. His lie was much larger than hers.

  Noah stood. She needed to know what he’d discovered today when he’d spoken with Leslie, but the words lodged in his throat.

  Acceptance, understanding and maybe even gratitude flickered in her eyes. She lay back with a soft little sigh, letting her head settle more deeply into the pillow. Regret? Her vulnerable expression held no trace of reproach.

  “Noah, I’m so tired. Could you…would you hold me? Just…hold me. I’ll be strong tomorrow, I promise. Tonight I just need to be held. Please.”

  A resounding no formed in his head, but refused to leave his lips. There was nothing provocative in her request. She seemed to have no idea what she was asking. He hadn’t expected this almost primitive need to claim her that settled deep in his gut. She looked so trusting, so incredibly tantalizing.

  And he knew he was going to do as she’d asked, even though he’d be tempting fate to its limit.

  “Push over.”

  Obediently, she shifted to make room. He tried to still the pounding of his heart, careful to keep his body outside the covers. As if she were more delicate than spun glass, he pulled her against his chest.

  And all he could think was it had been a good thing he hadn’t removed his shirt in the bathroom, because holding her against his bare skin would have been tempting fate one step too far. He only wished he’d added another layer of cloth. Not that any amount of clothing would act as a sufficient barrier to the energy singing through his body right now.

  She nestled against him. He wanted to groan in frustration.

  “Thank you.”

  Noah couldn’t reply. The clean fragrance of her shampoo filled his head. He could feel every inch of her warm body where it pressed against his own. He should have turned the air conditioner all the way down before touching her.

  It wouldn’t have helped.

  “You’re welcome,” he finally managed. He stroked her hair. Thick, silky, as tempting as the rest of her. He could feel her relaxing against him and had to shift before she noticed his body’s response. It had been far too long since he’d simply held a woman this way.

  Who was he kidding? He’d never held a woman this way. He couldn’t remember ever wanting to hold a woman this way. Feelings and sensations were burrowing under his skin much deeper than mere sexual need. And that need was strong enough to scare him witless right now. He wanted to roll Sydney beneath him and do all the wanton things running through his mind.

  “I know you’ll find this hard to believe,” she mumbled, “but I’m not usually this weak.”

  Weak? She thought she was weak? “You don’t have to worry, Syd. I think you’re one tough lady.”

  “Good,” she muttered sleepily. “Have to be strong…to deal with a man like you.”

  With a sardonic smile, he rubbed his chin and jaw against her silky hair. “Go to sleep before your sweet talk goes to my head.”

  “We should talk,” she murmured in agreement.

  Noah stroked her bare arm. “We will. In the morning.”

  She mumbled something he couldn’t understand. He didn’t ask her to repeat it, and after a few moments she became still. Soon her breathing deepened until he knew she had slipped into sleep. He was amazed how fast she could do that. One minute awake, the next sound asleep.

  Noah watched the steady rise and fall of her chest, glad he had covered that excuse for a nightgown with the blanket. Keeping his distance had become a challenge. He was starting to feel possessive where she was concerned and it scared him. Not as much as it would probably scare her if she knew.

  He should get up, put her suitcase on the floor and climb into the opposite bed like a gentleman. Too bad he wasn’t feeling very gentlemanly at the moment. Instead, he found himself strangely reluctant to let go of her. Sydney felt right nestled in his arms like this. Was it simply because it had been so long since he’d been with a woman?

  She didn’t so much as stir. He could feel her soft breath on his shirt.

  “Don’t worry, Syd,” he whispered. “You and the baby are mine to protect. No one is going to hurt you ever again.”

  Sydney didn’t move. Noah closed his eyes and wondered how he was going to keep that promise. But he would, or die trying.

  HE WOKE, fully aroused, to the sounds of people moving in the hall outside their door. The right side of his body tingled numbly where Sydney lay half on top of him. Lights blazed inside the room, but he knew hours had passed.

  He’d fallen asleep. And slept deeply, judging by how rested he felt. Sydney was still sleeping, her silky hair tumbled across him, tickling his chin and cheek. Her good hand lay on his thigh, perilously close to that part of his anatomy that had awakened first.

  Talk about sweet torture.

  His watch showed the time was 0700 hours. They’d slept straight through the night without moving. That explained the painful numbness. Still, he continued to ignore the prickles of discomfort in order to lie there, listening to the sound of her breathing. The need to care for her hadn’t diminished any more than his need to make love to her.

  That thought jolted him completely awake. Carefully, he tried to ease his way free of her embrace. She came with him and her hand covered the jutting stretch of fabric on his pants.

  His heart thudded expectantly. She nuzzled his shirt. Her hand slid over his hardened ridge of flesh. Every single atom of him became hard as stone. He tried to swallow and couldn’t. When he tried to move away again, her eyes fluttered open.

  “Hi.”

  Sleep-drenched, her body was softer, more yielding and ten times more tempting.
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  He wanted to laugh. He wanted to curse. He was only a man.

  “Hi yourself.”

  And he lowered his head toward those incredible lips and fit his mouth over hers. She returned his kiss, turning more fully toward him, pressing her hand more firmly against him.

  He deepened the kiss, knowing he was taking unfair advantage, but unable to stop. She responded ardently, opening beneath the pressure of his tongue to surrender her mouth.

  Noah knew the exact moment when she came fully awake and realized who he was, where they were and what they were doing.

  She stilled completely and her eyes flew open. Her hand drew back as if scorched. Quite possible from the heat he was generating.

  Noah rolled away. He stood quickly, welcoming the fiery pinpricks of returning circulation. It helped keep his mind off the blood circulating in other parts of his body.

  The covers had come dislodged and her gown had shifted, displaying most of one generous breast. Through a fabric designed to drive a man mad, he could make out the darker-colored circle where her rigid nipple lay barely hidden from view. Noah tore his gaze away before she noticed or he gave in to his strong desire for a better view and climbed right back into that bed with her.

  “I’m going to grab a quick shower.” Ice-cold and as punishing as he could make it.

  Sydney didn’t respond. When he came out of the bathroom, she was sitting on the edge of the bed clutching a pile of clothing to her chest. It didn’t hide the fact that she had a very nice chest.

  “How are you feeling?” he greeted.

  She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Embarrassed.”

  “Why?”

  She looked to the other bed, which had obviously not been slept in, and then at him.

  Noah walked over and lifted her chin. She quivered beneath his touch. “Needing someone doesn’t make you weak, Sydney.”

  “It can.” Her eyes sparkled, proudly defiant. “I don’t see you needing anyone.”

  “Really? Then you aren’t looking close enough.”

  He lowered his head and captured her lips. Shock held her still the length of one heartbeat, then she jerked her head back.