Wynne’s mother came back out with Paige in tow, a disapproving frown on her face as she took in the scene she’d just interrupted. Derek knew Eileen couldn’t stand him and didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. But he wouldn’t have minded if she was a bit less obvious about it.
Paige skipped to Derek’s side, instantly reaching for his hand. She trusted him, loved him without question, and it was all there in the miraculous feeling of her tiny hand in his. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this second chance in his life, but he knew he couldn’t do anything to let it slip through his fingers. He’d made a hell of a lot of mistakes, and finally he had the chance to redeem himself.
“Well.” Eileen gave Derek yet another look of ill-concealed dislike. “Why don’t you walk me down to the door, Wynne?”
Wynne nodded and followed her mother downstairs. Derek recognized it as mother-daughter code for we need to talk. Sighing, he bent down and pressed a kiss to his daughter’s forehead.
“What do you want to play first, sweet pea?”
“Tea party, silly! I already telled you.”
“Told.” Derek ruffled her curls and followed in her wake. Who’d have known tea parties could be so much fun?
The knot of dread in Wynne’s stomach grew as her mother maintained her silence until they reached the front door. Her mother was never quiet unless she highly disapproved. And Wynne had no doubt her mother disapproved of Derek.
“Tell me what on earth is going through your head.” Eileen turned to her with a worried expression.
“Mom, don’t.” Wynne didn’t know why she should feel so determined to defend Derek, but she did somehow. “He’s been wonderful and I don’t want to spoil that.”
“He might be a good father so far,” Eileen allowed, “but let’s not forget that he’s five years too late. What I really want to know is what you’re doing with him. What’s going through your mind, Wynne? Don’t you know anything about that man?”
“I’m not doing anything with him,” Wynne lied uncomfortably, aware she was flushing. Her eyes strayed to the counter guiltily, then dropped to the floor, drawn by a scrap of red fabric.
Her underwear. Oh God. Had her mother seen that?
“Yes, I saw it,” Eileen confirmed, her mouth a tight line. “Don’t let yourself fall for him. He’s not the kind of man you can settle down and have a normal life with. He’s a famous actor, for God’s sake. How long do you think it’ll be before he flies back to Hollywood and forgets all about you and Paige?”
“That’s not going to happen, Mom.” But it was secretly Wynne’s greatest fear.
“The best you can expect from him is a support check. You’ll be lucky if he sticks around for another month.”
“Mom—”
“I know that kind of man,” Eileen interrupted. “Your father was just like him, and the last time he left, after you were born, it almost killed me. I don’t want you to have to experience that.”
Wynne bit her lip. Eileen almost never mentioned Wynne’s father, a man Wynne had never seen. That her mother would bring him into the conversation now revealed the depth of her concern. Still, Derek had given her hope and she wanted to trust in him.
Eileen put a hand on Wynne’s shoulder. “I know you want to believe him, sweetheart, but promise me you won’t let him get too close to you. Promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I promise.” Wynne swallowed heavily, pressing a kiss to her mother’s cheek.
“I love you, honey.” Eileen gave her a weak smile and then disappeared out the front door.
Wynne couldn’t shake her mother’s warnings from her mind as she headed back upstairs. She wanted her to be wrong. But the rational portion of her mind reminded her she’d only known Derek for a month. She’d never seen the side of him Trina had spoken of, the side she knew existed, the man who lost himself in alcohol again and again. She had to acknowledge it was more than possible that Derek would fall off the wagon yet again, that he would move on to the next woman and the next thrill and jet back to LA.
Her feet felt heavy as they landed on each step. She didn’t want to face him yet, not with her emotions in such turmoil. Fortunately, he and Paige were playing in Paige’s bedroom. Wynne heard the murmur of their voices punctuated by an occasional delighted giggle from Paige. He was so wonderful with her, and there was no denying that much. Wynne had to believe that whatever happened, regardless of whether or not he fell back into his old patterns, he would always want to be a good father to Paige.
Trying to keep her mind occupied by meaningless tasks rather than thoughts she couldn’t deal with, Wynne slipped into the hallway linen closet and pulled down a stack of clean sheets. She carried them into the living room and started tucking them into the sofa. Derek could sleep here for the night, but she had already begun to realize the foolishness of inviting him to stay. Look at what had happened between them downstairs. If her mother hadn’t showed up when she did, Wynne would be naked with the sexiest man she’d ever seen, having the best sex of her life.
Which sounded pretty darn good when she thought about it. Except that it would have been a mistake.
Her mother was right. Derek may have proven himself to be an excellent father thus far, but she couldn’t control her reaction to him. Allowing him to get too close would be beyond foolish. He was the rare kind of man who was too sexy for his own good, the sort of man to whom women were drawn in throngs, the sort of man who could get any woman he wanted. That combination made it almost impossible for any man to stay faithful to one woman.
Not that Wynne was even considering a long-term relationship with Derek Shaw. Because she wasn’t so deluded that she believed he would stay with her and commit to her on any level other than being Paige’s father. But she did recognize that he was powerfully attracted to her as well, and that he wanted to indulge his attraction, at least until it ceased to be an amusing distraction for him. Trina’s earlier words echoed in Wynne’s thoughts, mocking her. There are blackouts and women and pills. You have no idea.
She didn’t know what Derek was capable of, and that troubled Wynne more than she could say. A man like him was made for sin, made to love but never linger. He’d done it to Wynne once before and had left her behind, pregnant and afraid of the life ahead of her. It had only been with her mother’s help and Wynne’s determination that she had been able to provide for herself and Paige as well as she had thus far. They still weren’t living in luxury, God knew that, but Wynne’s name was on the deed to the building and she had flourished as an entrepreneur. She took great pride in her accomplishments, even though they likely seemed laughable to someone like Derek who had endless funds at his disposal.
A hand touched her elbow and she jumped, startled out of her reverie. She turned to find Derek watching her with an inscrutable expression on his face. His hand lingered on her elbow longer than necessary. Feeling uncomfortable and uncertain of her ability to resist him, Wynne stepped back. She swallowed, trying to regain her composure.
“Paige fell asleep,” he said softly. “I hope you don’t mind. I helped her change into her pajamas and she asked me to read her a story, and before I knew it, she was out.”
The mother in her kicked into gear. “Did she brush her teeth?”
“I didn’t think of that,” Derek admitted.
“Well try to think of it next time,” she snapped, striding away from him, back to the linen closet to grab some quilts.
She felt more than heard him follow her. “Is something wrong?” he asked, his voice alarmingly close to her ear. Wynne stuffed herself farther inside the linen closet as she reached up onto the top shelf, trying to get away from him.
“No,” she lied, her voice muffled by the layers of sheets and quilts stacked inside the narrow space. She rolled onto her tiptoes but still couldn’t quite reach the quilt on the top shelf.
“Let me get that for you.” Derek leaned against her, his hard body burning into her back as he reached for it. Wy
nne tried not to notice the way his scent washed over her, or the way his body heat sank into her skin, into her blood. Or the way his obvious arousal nestled against her. She wanted to fall back into him.
He retrieved the quilt easily but didn’t move away from her. She started when he skimmed his fingers along the curve of her throat. The quilt dropped to the floor at her feet with a soft whoosh of sound. His left arm slid around her waist, pinning her body neatly against his while his right hand massaged the tense cords of her neck. As she leaned into the delicious ministrations of his hand, she unwittingly opened the left side of her neck to more exploration. Derek’s mouth was a hot, wet brand on her bare skin, kissing a trail down to her collarbone.
Her eyes slid closed even as her mind warred with her body, warning her to stop this before it went too far again. “Derek,” she whispered.
“Mmm,” he murmured noncommittally against her skin.
“We can’t,” she forced herself to say. It didn’t sound very convincing, even to her own ears—the byproduct of the insane lust coursing through her.
“Why can’t we?” His voice was low and dark, a wicked caress curling around her senses. The hand pressing against her waist slid higher, up over her breast. Her nipples hardened instantly. “We both want each other,” he continued in a tone of smooth seduction.
“No,” she said, even as she arched into him, filling the palm of his hand with her breast.
“I want you.” He kissed her neck again, his tongue lashing out against her sensitized skin. “God, I want you. More than anything or anyone I’ve ever wanted in my life. You’re in my blood. Tell me it isn’t the same for you.”
“It’s not,” she lied, reaching behind her to caress his lean hip and pull him more firmly against her.
“Liar,” he growled, nipping her lightly with his teeth. He caught her earlobe in his mouth, sucking.
“I can’t, Derek.”
“What do you want from me?” He cupped her other breast as well. “Do you want to know that I want you more than I ever wanted another drink? It’s true. Even when I was at my lowest point, when all I wanted was a drop of alcohol in my mouth, it was never as bad as this need I feel for you. That’s how much power you have over me.”
His words shocked her, sent her mind reeling. He was likening her to an addiction, saying his attraction for her was stronger than the cravings he’d had for alcohol. Coming from a man with such an extensive history of addiction, the words were almost unbelievable. Almost frightening.
“Let me make love to you tonight,” he whispered, his voice a silky plea.
Wynne struggled to keep her mind focused. “I can’t.” She couldn’t afford to give in to him. It was a battle for her self-preservation.
“But you want to,” he insisted, his thumbs rubbing tantalizingly over her nipples, making her gasp. “Admit it, Wynne.”
She didn’t want to admit her weakness to him. It would give him too much power, too much leeway to walk all over her at the first opportunity. Wynne knew she would be the one to lose her heart and Derek would be the one to walk away. Just as her mother had said, she knew this type of man.
“Admit it to me,” he said again, his voice demanding. “Give me that much.”
“Fine.” An embarrassing tear slipped down her cheek and she swiped at it before turning in his arms to face him. “I want you to make love to me, but I can’t afford to let that happen. Please just leave me alone.”
A self-derisive smile curved his luscious mouth. “I wish I could.”
She could read it there in his eyes. He wanted her, and he wouldn’t stop pursuing her until she fell into bed with him again. Wynne couldn’t shake the feeling of inevitability, that she should just give in to it and enjoy a night of passion in his arms. But the common sense part of her brain kicked into action once more, reminding her of all the ramifications inherent in one night of passion with Derek Shaw. This time around, she could end up giving him more than just her virginity. She could end up giving him her heart. And that was one thing she didn’t want to lose to the man before her, no matter how beautiful and deliciously tempting he was.
“I’m going to bed,” she said, bending down to retrieve the quilt. She held it out to him, keeping it between their bodies like a buffer zone. “Sleep well.”
“I’m afraid that’s going to be impossible,” he said wryly.
She swallowed, knowing all too well it would be a fitful night of tossing and turning for her too. “Good night, Derek.”
He surprised her by leaning forward and kissing her swiftly, a nerve tingling, open-mouthed kiss. “Good night, Wynne.”
With a last, heated look, he turned and left her standing alone in the linen closet, her lips tingling from his kiss. She knew then that she wanted much more from him than a simple kiss and that she could never allow herself to have it.
Derek couldn’t sleep.
He was crammed onto Wynne’s sofa—uncomfortable as hell—with one pathetic pillow between his head and a demonically hard arm rest. According to the glowing numbers on the cable box across the room, it was going on three a.m. and he had yet to fall asleep. After Wynne had closeted herself up in her room, he’d tried to will his raging erection to abate by watching a late show. And as long as he focused on the host’s desk and kept his mind carefully blank, Derek’s hard-on disappeared. The trouble with that was that as soon as his mind started wandering, like during boring monologues and bad jokes and commercials, it went straight to Wynne and the sex they’d almost had.
Almost was such an ugly word.
Desperate to keep his mind occupied, he’d begun channel surfing. Unfortunately, that had led him to a special on Hollywood bad boys, which included a rather unflattering segment on himself. It was disconcerting to see his love life replayed in five minutes of air time, the string of ex-girlfriends he’d mostly forgotten smiling on his arm at various stages in his career.
Then there was the part about his alcoholism and his rumored affairs and drug addictions, all relayed to him by a handful of asshole gossip columnists and comedians who laughed their way through the interview at his expense. Ordinarily, Derek tried to steer clear of all press about him because it was almost always bad, but for some reason, he’d watched the entire piece. It was proof, right there on the TV screen, that he needed to change his life for good.
Hell, he didn’t just need to change his life. He needed to start all over again and forget about the past. If anyone would have told him a year ago he would even contemplate leaving the film industry, he’d have laughed his ass off. There had been times in his life when he couldn’t imagine existing without being an actor. Until being an actor had almost killed him. It didn’t take a genius to realize the world he’d left behind hadn’t been good for him. And if there was one thing Derek knew without fail, it was when to move the fuck on.
He was trying to do his best to move on, making a life for himself as Paige’s father. As for Wynne, he didn’t know where she fit into the equation. She was Paige’s mother, of course, but she was also a woman he wanted very badly. So badly that even though he knew it was probably a mistake, he was going to have her one way or another. Preferably sooner rather than later.
Because he was demonstrating to himself just how low he’d sunk, lying in the dark having X-rated fantasies about her. He’d already imagined having sex with her in a dozen different places. On the counter in her shop, on the kitchen table, in the linen closet, on her big king-size bed, in the backseat of her car, in his hotel room. Hell, he’d even imagined her straddling him on the damn uncomfortable sofa that was his current bed.
Derek reminded himself it had been over a year since he’d had sex and he was long overdue for a bout of hot, sweaty fucking. Of course, that excuse seemed rather thin since he could have had Trina but he hadn’t wanted her. Wynne was the woman he craved. He hadn’t been lying when he said his need for her was worse than his need for alcohol. He couldn’t recall ever wanting a drink as badly as he wanted to
sink himself into Wynne, lose himself in her.
Jesus. At this rate he’d never get to sleep. He tried to roll into a more comfortable position, but he almost fell off the damn sofa. His neck started aching with a persistence matched only by the ache in his groin.
Groaning, he threw back the sheet and quilt covering him and stood, clad in nothing but his boxer briefs. Raking a hand through his hair, he stalked back down the hallway, determined to get Wynne out of his system by distracting himself. He popped his head inside Paige’s bedroom and listened for a few minutes to the rhythmic sound of her breathing. Thinking he might be sufficiently calm, he turned to head back to the sofa when he noticed a sliver of light coming from beneath Wynne’s bedroom door.
So he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep. The realization hit him along with a wave of smug satisfaction. Aware he should keep his distance for the rest of the night and not push his luck any further, he still crossed the hall and tapped lightly on her door.
“Come in,” she called, just as softly.
He pushed the door open and found her sitting up in bed. She held an e-reader in her hands, had her riotous red curls pulled back into a ponytail, and wore cute glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.
She looked dismayed to see him. “Why are you still up? And why are you in my room?”
He made a show of glancing down. “Technically, I’m in the hallway.”
She frowned at him, her gaze drifting down over his body. “Very funny. Why aren’t you wearing any clothing?”
A grin curved his lips as he crossed the line, officially entering her territory, and closed the door behind him. “You’re lucky I’m wearing anything at all.” He strode through the room, stopping only when he reached her bed. “Normally I sleep naked.”
Win My Love (Love's Second Chance Book 3) Page 9
