One Heir...or Two?

by Yvonne Lindsay

  Life, as he’d made it, had begun to change irrevocably and he hated to admit it, but he was scared. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d felt this way before. The first time his adoptive father had lifted a hand to him, the first time he’d been deployed and the first time he’d seen active duty. But this was a whole new kettle of fish.

  Van stretched and heard the kinks in his back crack. A swim would be a good idea about now, he decided. Maybe a few lazy laps of the pool would help ease some of the jittering sensation that danced along his nerves so insistently. Yeah, some mindless exercise was just what he needed.

  * * *

  It was a beautiful night. The air was cool but the pool felt like warm silk on her skin as she went down the steps and was submerged in its softness. Kayla flipped onto her back and floated for a while, staring up into the cloudless night sky. Even with the subtle pool lighting she could still see more stars than she could count. It made her feel as if she was in another world altogether. In so many ways, that was true.

  She sensed rather than heard a movement by the side of the pool and turned her head to look. Van stood at the edge. Moonlight limning his powerful physique made him look almost ethereal. Something deep inside her clenched before releasing slowly on a wave of hunger that had nothing to do with food and everything to do with the man standing there, silent as a statue.

  “Did you want the pool to yourself?” she asked, treading water now at the deeper end of the pool. “I can go in now.”

  “No, don’t leave on my account.”

  His voice was gruff and he stayed there—standing still. She couldn’t tear her eyes off him. She tracked the shadowed lines of muscle along his shoulders and her mouth went dry, forcing her to swallow convulsively. She tried to avert her gaze, but it was useless. She might be pregnant but she was first and foremost a woman and most certainly a woman with an eye of appreciation for a stark male beauty such as his.

  Any male’s? a voice inside her asked. Or just his?

  She couldn’t lie to herself. Her attraction specifically to him went deep. Physically, Van was perfection. And emotionally? She wasn’t sure yet. So much had changed between them and yet still remained the same. When they were growing up, he’d always been the one looking out for her. Making decisions regarding her safety and bailing her out of difficulties when she slipped through his protective net. They’d always had a relationship, of sorts, she admitted. But it had been lopsided—at least to her way of thinking. He’d never respected her or viewed her as an equal. She’d thought she had a chance to balance it after Sienna died and look how that had worked out, she reminded herself. But now, well, this was another place in time. Maybe this time things could be different.

  She felt a flush of heat build from her chest and work its way up to her cheeks. Kayla was glad for the darkness. She still hadn’t gotten around to buying a new swimsuit, and believing she’d be alone tonight, she hadn’t covered herself in a T-shirt before entering the water. Right now, unable to resist the magnetic attraction she felt toward Van, she felt as if her body was bursting from her bikini—and the slide of the water against her made her feel naked. Naked and Van were probably not a good combination in her head at the moment, but as hard as she tried to stop them, nerve endings all through her body sprang to life in the most persistent fashion. The pool, which had only seconds ago been a sanctuary of peace and tranquility, now transformed into a simmering melting pot of need.

  She continued to watch him as he dove neatly into the pool and began to swim freestyle. One lap, then another, until she lost count. She felt a prick of chagrin that he could so easily ignore her and was on her way to the stairs at the shallow end when he surfaced beside her.

  “Not swimming anymore?” he asked.

  “I’ve pretty much been just floating. It’s relaxing, but I should probably leave you to it,” she said, doing her best not to stare at him.

  His hair was plastered to his head and water ran in rivulets down his face, his neck and then his chest. Desire pulled with such a hard wrench from her core that she gasped with its intensity. If she could only reach out, touch him. Let her fingers trace the lines of his body. No! They’d already gone down that road once and look where that had ended, she told herself. Distraction. She needed distraction and latched on to the one thing she knew would drive any thought of sex from her mind.

  “I think you’re going to be a great dad, Van,” she blurted. “I just wanted to say that.”

  He looked startled, as if that was the last thing he’d expected her to say. He inclined his head in acknowledgment but didn’t say a word. Instead he kept looking into her eyes, perhaps trying to delve beyond her clumsy attempt at deflection and get straight to the burning-hot center of her. It made her feel an urge to fill the silence.

  “Did you enjoy today?” she asked. “Seeing the new baby?”

  A tiny frown pulled at his brows. “Enjoy is probably not the right word for it,” he said. “But it was fascinating.” His eyes dropped from her face to her belly—to where his son was nestled. “And terrifying at the same time.”

  “I know what you mean. The first time I saw Sienna, I freaked. I mean, I never planned to have kids, and when I decided to have her, I didn’t stop to think about every aspect of it. I just knew I had to fulfill my promise and planned to do that without considering all the aspects of it.”

  Van snorted a laugh. “That’s so like you.”

  She allowed herself a smile. “I’ve done a lot of stupid things in my life. I just wanted to do something right for a change. Something where I put someone else’s needs and hopes first. But I still kind of leaped in with both feet. I guess I haven’t changed much, have I? But then, neither have you.”

  “You don’t think I’ve changed? I thought I had. A lot.” He sounded mildly disappointed.

  She looked at him. Of course he was different now than he’d been as a boy. He’d achieved wealth and authority beyond what anyone could have expected. But essentially he hadn’t changed at all. He was still the protector, still distant from everyone around him even while making sure they were all okay. She’d seen that reserved demeanor of his completely crack just the once. The night they’d made love after her sister’s funeral. He’d been more open with her then than he’d ever been. With their bodies, they’d said all the things that their minds couldn’t formulate words for, and in a mutual need for comfort, they’d clung to one another and soared to exquisite heights of pleasure in their bid to obliterate their grief.

  “Changed?” she repeated, musing on the word. “You’re maybe more driven than you were. You’ve obviously come a long way since leaving the army, that’s for sure. It’s not every man who creates an empire in the time you have.”

  “I’m lucky that my skill set translates to a very high-value commodity. People need security, and in the countries where we work, those people are prepared to pay an extremely high price for it. Besides, I didn’t do it all on my own. I was fortunate to be able to recruit a pool of people with skills that complement mine.”

  “People like Dani? What skills did she bring to the table?” Kayla asked, then hated herself for perversely bringing the other woman into their conversation.

  “Her company provides the electronics that make our job a whole lot easier. If I’d had to invest separately in development for that side of things, I certainly wouldn’t be where I am now.”

  “I’m sorry you two didn’t work out.”

  Kayla knew the words were a lie the moment she spoke them. She wasn’t sorry at all. There’d been something so unfeeling about the other woman when they’d met, something so clinical and detached. Sure, she was stunning, but in the same way a cool marble sculpture could be stunning and yet cold, empty.

  “We still work well together despite that,” Van replied.

  Somehow that seemed to be a shame. There s
hould have been some fire between them, surely. If Kayla had been so close to a person that she’d considered marrying him just to have it fall apart, she knew she wouldn’t have been able to calmly keep working with him. It seemed especially wrong that it had happened with Van. She knew how deep his passion lay. The kind of man he was with Dani Matthews felt false. As if he was fitting himself into a mold where he thought he ought to be, instead of going where he truly belonged. But hadn’t he always been like that? As a boy, as a soldier? He’d delivered on expectations every time but when had he had an opportunity to truly be himself?

  The thought brought her back to their one night, to the raw honesty they’d expressed in actions when words were no longer enough. Usually she tamped down her thoughts of that time, but right now they flared, hot and bright, to the forefront of her mind. Her body, already simmering, fired to life.

  “I know I couldn’t,” she commented.

  “Why not?”

  “I guess because I feel too much. I’m not the kind of person who can compartmentalize my emotions and my needs so easily. If the man I wanted to marry broke off our engagement for the same reasons you did...” Her voice trailed away and she shook her head. No, she didn’t want to go down that road.

  “You’d what?” he prompted.

  “Well, if he really meant anything to me and I thought we stood a chance together, I’d fight tooth and nail for him. I’d learn to compromise, to blend his wishes with my own—especially if his children were involved.”

  “And you think Dani didn’t fight for me?”

  Ah, now, there was a thought. Maybe she’d been too dismissive of the beautiful Ms. Matthews.

  “Did she?” Kayla countered, suddenly curious.

  “Not beyond our initial discussion, no.”

  “But you guys were in love, right?”

  He dunked his head under the surface and rose back up again, pushing the water from his eyes with his hands. “Love didn’t enter into it. It didn’t have to.”

  “Then I’m sorry for you, and for her.”

  “Don’t be. We’re adults. It hasn’t hurt our working arrangements.”

  “But don’t you see? That’s what’s wrong. It should hurt—your heart, your mind. Everything!” Kayla argued.

  “And that’s your philosophy on life?”

  “It’s my philosophy on love.”

  “Then it’s just as well you’re not in love, isn’t it. It sounds very painful to me.”

  His words couldn’t have struck her any harder than if he’d slapped her.

  “Are you saying you don’t feel?”

  “Not if I don’t choose to.”

  “You still keep a wall between you and the rest of the world, don’t you? I’ve only seen you take that wall down once.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Our night together,” she said passionately. “I know you felt that night. Be honest. You were hurting. I know I was. And, just for a while, we both made the hurt go away. We felt something together. Something that was bigger than the hurt, something that was special. Don’t you ever think about it? Don’t you want to feel like that again?”

  “No, I absolutely do not. That night was nothing but a mistake.”

  He launched toward the edge of the pool and hauled himself out, distancing himself from the conversation both mentally and physically. The way he always did from anything that approached emotion, she reminded herself. She shouldn’t feel as though she’d lost something precious, but she did. By the time Kayla got out of the pool and wrapped herself in the toweling robe she’d brought down with her, he was gone.

  She’d never learn, she thought as she made her way up to her room. Always blurting stuff out. Well, at least it made life interesting, she consoled herself, as opposed to the frozen wasteland that was Van’s chosen emotional spectrum. She closed her bedroom door behind her and leaned back against it, feeling loss and sorrow seep through her. A knock on the wooden surface behind her made her start. She turned to open the door.

  Van stood there, a towel wrapped at his waist and a smoldering green fire burning in his eyes.

  “Van?”

  “I do think about that night. I think about how your hair smelled, how your skin felt beneath my hands, the taste of you on my tongue, about the heat of your body when I was inside you, and all of it drives me crazy. I can’t stop thinking about that night. Or you.”

  And then he reached for her.

  Twelve

  His hands grasped her shoulders and he tugged her toward him. Stunned, she offered no resistance. His lips were hot and dry as they descended on hers. A bolt of desire, searing and desperate, shuddered through her as their lips met, as his tongue swept across the seam of her mouth. She parted her lips on a cry of need and he wasted no time deepening the kiss.

  Kayla’s hands flew to his head, her fingers driving through his short dark hair, her nails gently scraping his scalp. He groaned into her mouth and the sound felt as though it vibrated throughout her entire body. She could already feel the press of his hips against her. Feel the hardness that spoke of his need for her. Inside, she turned molten.

  A maelstrom of sensation poured through her as he wrenched free the knot in her robe’s belt and pushed aside the lapel to expose her to his starving gaze. His hand shook as he reached for the neck tie of her bikini. One quick tug and the too-small triangles of damp fabric fell to her waist. With one finger he traced a faint blue vein on her swollen breast, then followed it with the tip of his tongue.

  She tried to speak, to tell him how he made her feel, but the second his mouth closed around her nipple, words failed her. Her knees threatened to buckle and send them both crashing to the floor. As if he sensed her weakness, he scooped her into his arms and carried her next to the bed and put her gently down on her feet again. Three more flicks of his fingers and her bikini top was off and her bottoms had fallen in a heap on the carpet. Her robe followed. Then his towel.

  Kayla traced her hands over his chest, down his rib cage and lower to the waistband of his swimming shorts. Her fingers closed over the bulge at the front and he dropped his head to the crook of her neck. One of his hands closed over hers, halting her when she would have squeezed him.

  His voice shook. “I want you, Kayla, but if you don’t want this, too, say it now while I can still, maybe, leave this room.”

  “Want you? I need you, Van. Here. Now,” she whimpered.

  * * *

  He felt like he’d waited a millennium to hear those words and he didn’t waste the invitation she offered. He bent his head to kiss her again and pulled her hard to his body. She felt just as perfect against him as she had the last time. His world had been tilted off its axis for so long. But here, now, things finally felt so very right.

  His hands skimmed over her body, different now than before. A voice inside him told him he should be ashamed that he was so turned on by the lushness of her new curves, by the fact that she was carrying his child, but then he realized the voice wasn’t his. It was merely an echo of disapproval from far in his past. An echo that deserved to be erased forever because nothing—absolutely nothing—had ever felt as right as holding Kayla in his arms did now.

  She was spectacular, her skin smooth and warm. He coaxed her down onto the mattress so he could see all of her, touch all of her, taste all of her. She was no passive partner in this. Her hands reached for him, squeezing, tracing, stroking until his skin was burning and his entire body shook with need. But he’d waited what felt like forever for this. He didn’t want to rush it now.

  He settled over her, bearing his weight on his arms.

  “Are you okay with this?” he rasped as he bent his head to tease the tip of one pale pink nipple with his tongue.

  “I’d be a lot more okay if you’d hurry up,” she said, squirm
ing against him. “And if you’d remove those wet shorts of yours.”

  “They’re the only thing keeping me under control,” he admitted as he smiled against her skin, loving the fact that she was so impatient for him. “And I meant with having me on top of you.”

  “I’m more than okay. You’re just perfect, right where you are.”

  She thrust her hips against his groin again and groaned deep in the back of her throat. He could see the hot flush of desire on her skin and the glitter in her eyes as she looked at him.

  “Don’t take forever about this, soldier,” she said teasingly.

  “I’ll take...just...as...long...as...I...take,” he answered, punctuating each word with a nip or a lick of her breasts.

  Her nipples had hardened and distended and he could have spent forever paying homage to her physical perfection. A lifetime wouldn’t be long enough to spend following the tracery of veins that glowed palest blue beneath her skin. To spend holding her breasts, gently squeezing those pink peaks and laving them with his tongue. Kayla’s nails dug into his shoulders, spurring him to take as much time as he could to make this good for her.

  But there was more of her to explore, to pleasure, and he was nothing if not dedicated. Beneath his hands, her rib cage felt so small and her skin pebbled with goose bumps as he traced his tongue over each rib, then followed the center line between them before finishing at her belly button. The thickening of her waist and the slight rise of her tummy were more noticeable lying down. An incredible sense of strength and pride fought through the haze of desire that wreathed him. His child. His woman.