“Ted, I…” She stopped speaking, hating the thread of desire-induced breathlessness in her voice.
“Hannah.”
That was all he said, just her name, spoken in a voice gritty with smoldering passion.
Hannah’s breath caught and rational thought fled into oblivion.
Ah, Hannah, Ted’s hazy mind echoed.
Then he lowered his head and kissed her.
Chapter Five
The kiss was soft and gentle, tentative at first. But then it deepened, becoming intense and urgent as the licking flames of desire within Hannah and Ted leaped higher, consuming them.
The flashlight slipped from Ted’s hand to land with a quiet thud on the carpet. The light created a glowing circle around them. It was as though nothing existed beyond that sphere. They were in a place that was meant only for them, and passions soared.
Ted drank of the taste of Hannah, his tongue delving into her mouth to seek and find her tongue. His arousal was heavy, aching with the want of her as his hands roamed over the damp towel, then up to the velvet softness of her dewy skin. His heart thundered and-a groan rumbled deep in his chest.
Hannah returned the kiss in total abandon, filling her senses with the taste, the aroma, the feel of Ted. She splayed her hands on his back, relishing the taut muscles that bunched and moved beneath her palms.
She felt alive, so incredibly alive, and inwardly rejoiced in her own womanliness that was a counterpart to Ted’s wondrous masculinity.
Ted lifted his head to draw a rough breath, then slanted his mouth in the other direction, capturing Hannah’s lips once again.
Hannah, his mind hummed. Hannah. He wanted her with a raging need far greater than anything he’d experienced before. Emotions of protectiveness and possessiveness slammed against his mind, intertwining with heated desire.
He felt as though he’d been lifted up and away from the world as he knew it, and transported into a hazy mist that belonged to him and to Hannah, with no one else allowed to intrude.
It was magical.
It was theirs.
Again Ted raised his -head a fraction of an inch, speaking close to her lips.
“Hannah,” he said, his voice raspy, “I want you. Hannah?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Oh, yes. I want you too, Ted. I’ve never felt so…”
Suddenly, the baby shifted, rolled, then delivered a swift kick. Hannah blinked as she was jarringly returned to reality. She stiffened in Ted’s arms.
“Dear heaven,” Hannah said. “What am I doing?”
“Kissing me, wanting me,” he said. “I want to make love with you, Hannah.”
She wiggled out of his arms, clutching the towel with both hands where it was tucked between her breasts.
“No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t do this.” She took another step backward. “I’m sorry if I led you to believe that I…Oh, my God, I can imagine what you must think of me.”
“I think,” he said quietly, willing his body back under control, “that you’re a very desirable woman who isn’t afraid to acknowledge her own sexuality. I think, I know, you want me as much as I want you. There’s nothing wrong with that, Hannah. We’re adults, free to make our own choices.”
“This adult,” she said, her voice rising, “is pregnant, in case you didn’t notice.”
“We wouldn’t hurt the baby. I asked Ryan about that when Deedee was pregnant. I just wondered, you know, so I asked him.”
“That’s not the point. What kind of person leaps into a man’s arms when she’s pregnant with another man’s child? I’m… I’m a wanton woman.”
Ted chuckled, then dragged a restless hand through his hair.
“No, you’re not,” he said, smiling. “Wanton woman? I can’t believe you actually said that. Look, you’re a normal, healthy woman in touch with herself, with her wants and needs. There’s nothing to get upset-about.”
“Oh, ha! I’m standing here in nothing more than a skimpy towel, pregnant as a volleyball, to quote your eloquent description, flinging myself at a man I hardly know. That, Mr. Sharpe, is disgusting.”
“No. It’s delightful, real and right, Ms. Doodle.”
“Oh-h-h, there’s no talking to you.” She leaned down and picked up the flashlight. “I’m going to get dressed. Then I’ll find my candles, give you back your flashlight and see you out. I’d appreciate it if you’d forget that this incident took place.”
“Can’t.”
“Why not?”
Ted shrugged. “It’s imprinted on my brain with indelible memory ink. Besides, why would I want to forget it? Kissing you was fantastic, Hannah Johnson. I may have to go home and stand under a cold shower for an hour, but it’ll be worth it. Oh, yes ma’am, holding you, kissing you, your kissing me, was sensational, really something.”
“Oh, well, fancy that.” Hannah smiled, but in the next second frowned. “No, no, no. I don’t want to discuss this. I’m going to forget it happened.”
She moved past him and started toward the bedroom, shining the flashlight ahead of her.
“Hannah.”
She stopped, her back to Ted.
“What?” she said, a sharp edge to her voice.
“It won’t work, you know. Kisses like the ones we shared can’t be dusted off that easily. Give it your best shot if it will make you feel better, but you’re wasting your time. You will remember, Hannah.”
“Shut up, Sharpe.”
Hannah marched from the room to the accompaniment of Ted’s soft laughter.
He watched the light disappear, then turned, making his way carefully to the kitchen in search of the candles. He found a drawer, opened it and rummaged around in the dark hole. His fingers closed around two taper candles. Further exploring produced two square, wooden holders and a book of matches.
After lighting one of the candles, he returned to the living room, sat down on the sofa, lit the other candle and placed both lighted candles on the coffee table.
Daisy appeared out of nowhere and crawled up onto the sofa.
“Hi, Daisy,” Ted said, patting the kitten on the head. “How’s life?”
He sank back against the puffy cushions.
Life? he thought. Life was strange, very weird. If someone would have told him that he’d soon be kissing a volleyball-size pregnant woman in a room with no electricity because of a storm, he’d have told that idiot to give it up and ship himself to the farm.
But not only was that insane statement true, it went further than that. Kissing said person had been, without a doubt, dynamite. Man, oh, man, he’d been on fire. He had wanted Hannah so badly he ached.
And the maze of emotions? They’d been tumbling through his mind so fast, he couldn’t even decipher all of them. That had never happened to him before. But he’d never spent time with a woman like Ms. Doodle before, either.
She was very, very different from the women he associated with.
“No joke, fool,” he muttered. “She’s pregnant. That is definitely different.”
Ted frowned and shook his head.
No, that wasn’t it…the fact that Hannah was pregnant. There was no ignoring that she was going to have a baby, but it wasn’t a turnoff, not by a long shot. It made her seem very feminine, womanly, very appealing. And it caused him to feel extremely masculine and protective, like a knight prepared to slay the dragon.
As for the man who had fathered her child? Forget him, Ted cautioned, he was worthless. The baby is Hannah’s, pure and simple.
Hannah…a charming combination of stand-on-her-own-two-feet strength and independence, and need-ing-protection-vulnerability. She’d looked him square in the eye and told him he was a rude, unpleasant man, then she’d wept at the sight of a furry little kitten.
There was a childlike innocence about her at times, yet when she allowed her sexuality to surface, she was one-hundred-percent woman.
Oh, Ted decided, she was something, all right, Ms. Hannah Johnson. That was firmly est
ablished, a given. The question that was driving him nuts was why he, Theodore Sharpe, was attracted to her? She wasn’t even remotely close to being his type.
“I’m losing it, Daisy,” he said to the kitten. “My mid-life crisis is scrambling my gray matter. Sad, huh? Yeah, I knew you’d agree with me.”
The flashlight beam shone across the floor as Hannah returned to the living room. She came to the sofa, turned off the light and extended the flashlight to Ted. He took it without really looking at it, his gaze riveted on Hannah.
She was wearing a rose-colored, velour robe that fell to the floor in soft folds and had long, full sleeves. It zipped up the front, in one long enticing line that caused Ted’s fingertips to tingle at the thought of slowly, so very slowly, inching that zipper downward.
The candlelight cast a glow over her, and once again she looked like a lovely cameo, delicate and beautiful beyond measure.
Oh, man, how he wanted this woman, Ted thought.
“Thank you for coming here, Ted,” Hannah said quietly. “I appreciate your concern. It was very…neighborly of you.”
Ted patted the sofa cushion next to him.
“Sit down, Hannah,” he said. “Please?”
“No.”
He frowned. “Hey, I’m not going to seduce you, for Pete’s sake. I just want to talk to you for a minute or two.”
“Two. Maximum.”
She sat down on the far end of the sofa and smoothed the robe over her stomach before turning to look at Ted.
What candlelight did for Ted Sharpe’s rugged features and sun-streaked hair, she thought, was sinful. It should be declared against the law and he should arrest himself.
Ted, Hannah thought. She’d lectured herself firmly and at great length while she was in the bedroom. What had happened with Ted, those exquisite kisses shared with Ted, the intense desire she’d felt for Ted, the burning want and need, were now erased from her memory bank.
Well, that was stretching the truth a tad. She would forget what had transpired once Ted left the apartment and she was alone. The mere presence of the man was enough to cause the desire still simmering within her to be fanned hotter and hotter.
“Two minutes, remember?” she said.
Ted scooted closer to her, nearly squashing Daisy in the process. The kitten jumped to the floor and dashed away.
“I can hear you from the other end of the sofa, Ted,” Hannah said, lifting her chin.
“It’s my two minutes. You didn’t put any distance restrictions on it.”
“Mmm.”
He slid one arm across the top of the sofa behind her, being careful not to touch her, then shifted slightly to look directly at her.
“Hannah,” he said, “what happened here tonight wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t something to regret. It was honest and real, and equally shared. There was nothing ‘wanton,’ to use your quaint word, about it. I really hate knowing you’re upset over it.”
Hannah sighed. “Yes, all right, I’ll admit I was being rather dramatic with my ‘wanton woman’ spiel. And, yes, I’ll take responsibility for my half of it. The thing is, Ted, that nothing like that neither should, nor will, happen again.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not free to engage in…to allow myself to… you know what I mean.”
“You’re free. You’re divorced. You’re a single woman. If you’re referring to being pregnant, you’re off base. That baby is a part of you, a lovely part.”
She smiled slightly. “Cute as a volleyball.”
“You’re the cutest volleyball I’ve ever seen.”
“Ted, listen to me,” she said, her smile gone. “I’m not emotionally free.”
“You’re still in love with and loyal to your ex-husband?”
“No, no, no. You see, he wasn’t who I thought he was or who I believed him to be. When I told him I was pregnant, his true colors came to light. I had to choose, he said, between him and the baby because he wanted no part of raising a child. I went to Nevada and obtained a quick and quiet divorce.”
Ted muttered a very earthy expletive.
“I’m obviously not capable of seeing a man as he truly is. I buy into the facade, trust far too easily. It’s a flaw, a major flaw of mine. That’s what I mean when I say I’m not emotionally free. I’m held captive by my inability to tell the good guys from the bad.”
“Based on one mistake? Hannah, come on, that’s not fair.”
“No, not one. I dated a boy in high school for two years. He said he loved me, respected me, the whole nine yards. It turned out he was telling his friends that we had sex all the time. It wasn’t true. He wasn’t who I believed him to be.”
“He was a kid.”
“He was my choice. The first year of college, I went out with a football player. Guess what? He had a pregnant wife back in Oklahoma. Then a year or so later, I met the man I married. His name is Maxwell. He was ten years older than me, had a thriving insurance company and said he’d postponed marriage until he was financially stable.’’
“Maxwell? Anyone with a name like that is definitely a dud. Did he use ‘Max’?”
“No. Maxwell, always Maxwell.”
“A dud.”
“He was wonderful…I thought. He was mature and considerate, took me to nice places, treated me like I was so special. He had a house that he said would never be a real home until I married him and lived there.”
“And you did.”
“Yes. I was so happy. Everything was glorious until I discovered I was pregnant. Then the real Maxwell surfaced and I had to face my flaw again. I had made a horrible mistake…trusted and believed in the wrong man…again. I will not ever put myself in that position in the future…waiting, waiting, waiting, to find out who a man proves to really be.”
“Whew,” Ted said. “I’m sorry you’ve had so much heartache, Hannah, I truly am. But you’re giving the whole male populace a bum rap. Some of us are the real goods, you know.”
“Oh, yes, of course I know that, but I can’t decipher one from the next. I just don’t know how. I refuse to run the risk of attempting to unravel that puzzle again.”
“Hannah, I’m a nice guy!” Ted said, nearly yelling.
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “Maybe not. I don’t intend to find out.” She folded her hands on top of her protruding stomach and smiled at him pleasantly. “Well, there you have it, neat and tidy, the story of my life.”
Ted leaned toward her. “How can you be so calm? You recited all that like someone reading off their grocery list.”
“Because I’m tired of crying, Ted,” she said, serious again. “Entering into a relationship with a man is guaranteed heartbreak for me. I’ve accepted that. As the psychologists say, ‘I own it.’ Since I’ve acknowledged it, I can forgive myself for my glitch.”
She pointed one finger in the air.
“However,” she went on, “having faced the situation as it stands, I can no longer make excuses or place the blame on anyone but myself. I must proceed with at least a modicum of maturity and realize that a serious relationship is not territory in which I am equipped to travel. So I won’t. Not ever.”
She nodded decisively and patted her stomach.
“My baby and I will do just fine together. We’ll be Mommy, Baby and Daisy. How’s that?”
“It stinks,” Ted said, frowning.
“It certainly does not. We’ll be The Terrific Trio. That title is in capital letters.” She paused. “I took a cash settlement at the time of my divorce, having decided I wished to have no part of monthly child-support payments from a man who wanted nothing to do with the child.
“Maxwell signed papers saying he would make no claim on this baby, nor attempt to see it or interact with it in the future. One of my friends told me that he’s already engaged to a nineteen-year-old girl who wants to be an actress.”
“Dandy,” Ted said, rolling his eyes heavenward.
“So, if I live on a tight budget and give private piano lessons
, which I’m doing, I should be all right during this year off from teaching. I’m trying to have my students practice quietly when they’re here so they won’t disturb you, especially if they’re playing ‘Yankee Doodle.’”
“Oh, man,” Ted said, getting to his feet. He started forward, immediately whacking his shin on the edge of the coffee table. “Ow! Damn it, that hurt.”
He moved around the table and began to pace the floor in front of the table, back and forth, back and forth.
Hannah watched him, feeling as though she were at a tennis match.
“Not good,” Ted said, continuing his trek. “This is not good at all. You’re too young to have set a program into place for the rest of your life, especially one this drastic, restricting, narrow.”
“Realistic,” Hannah added.
Ted stopped, planted his hands on his hips and glared at her. “Try this on for size, Ms. Doodle. Are you going to raise your child with this crummy philosophy? Teach him,’ or her, not to trust their own judgment when picking their life’s partner?”
“Of course not. This isn’t a genetic flaw, for crying out loud. It’s mine alone and has nothing to do with the baby. I know my personal limitations and will conduct myself accordingly in the future.”
“You’re so wrong, it’s a crime.”
“So arrest me, Officer Sharpe.”
“Don’t tempt me. If I thought it might make you come to your senses, I’d toss you in the clink.”
“That,” Hannah said, laughing, “was funny.”
Before Ted could retort, the lights flickered, went out, then came on full force. Hannah blinked against the sudden brightness, then leaned forward and blew out the candles.
Daisy bounded into the room, crawled up the arm of the sofa, perched there and began to methodically wash a paw.
“Let there be light,” Hannah said, flinging out her arms. “End of crisis.”
“Not even close. You are a walking, talking crisis. Hannah, what about the daffodils-and-daisies theory your gran taught you?”
“Oh, how sweet of you to remember my telling you that. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Answer the question.”
“It’s perfectly clear, Ted. In order to have sunny tomorrows with daffodils and daisies, I must steer clear of what I know to be a danger zone. That is just plain, old-fashioned common sense. I’m implementing Gran’s theory extremely well.”
The Father of Her Child (The Baby Bet #3) Page 6
