Major Dad

by Shelley Cooper

  She waited for the space of a heartbeat before asking, "Do you regret what happened?"

  His eyes glittered in the moonlight, and he looked pointedly downward. She followed his gaze and saw that he was fully aroused.

  "I think you have your answer. The question is, do you regret it?"

  How could she regret something that had been so wonderful? Right now, as she stared at him, the blinding need to know his possession once more fought for control of her sanity.

  She patted the empty space to her left. "Why don't you come back to bed, and I'll show you just how much I regret it."

  "In a minute. First I want to talk to you about a couple of things. As you can see, I won't be able to think clearly if I get any closer."

  Oh, no, she thought, not the I-can't-get-involved speech. Please don't ruin everything by giving that speech.

  "I'm not expecting anything, Brady," she said quickly. "What happened here tonight doesn't change anything. You don't have to worry."

  He shook his head. "That's not what I want to talk about. What I want to talk about is me. You see, up until this point in my life, I've been a completely self-centered bastard."

  How could he think that after what he'd been through, after what he'd sacrificed? How could he even dare to believe it, when he'd rushed to be by his daughter's side the minute he'd learned of her existence? Was it self-centered of him to enter into a marriage he didn't want or need in order to ensure his daughter's happiness?

  "That's not true—" she began hotly, but his quickly raised hand stemmed the flow of words.

  "It is true, Haven. Until a week ago, everything I've done, every choice I've made, has been solely for me. I put myself first. Everyone else came second, if I bothered to think of anyone at all."

  She felt compelled to defend his actions. "Anyone who'd lived through what you did would have behaved the same way. You were just trying to protect yourself from further hurt."

  "Maybe. But now, everything's different. I have a daughter. It's time for me to stop thinking about myself. Time for me to put Anna first. And what she needs most is what I always wanted when I was a kid. What you wanted, too, I think. A full-time father. Don't you agree?"

  Her heart gave a sickening lurch. From the very beginning, she'd been afraid of this. He'd finally realized how much Anna meant to him, and he was no longer willing to live on the periphery of her life. He was going to take her away.

  That he'd bring it up now, after they'd just made love and when he stood there in front of her still aroused, was unspeakably cruel. Honest, but cruel. But then, he'd always been honest with her.

  "Yes," she managed past the lump in her throat. "I agree."

  She supposed she should put up a fight, remind him of the promises he'd made. Threaten, cajole, cry. But she didn't. Because she knew that, whatever she did, ultimately it wouldn't matter. Ultimately, all he'd have to do was go to court with proof of his paternity, and he'd win. And, in the process, if she antagonized him enough, she might lose Anna altogether.

  "Good," he said. "I've been going over some alternatives. Want to hear them?"

  No, she didn't, she thought at the same time that she nodded her assent.

  "The first alternative is for me to petition for full custody of my daughter."

  Fear sucked the breath from her lungs. Blinking back sudden, hot tears, Haven plucked restlessly at the sheet at her waist. She'd been so certain, after his revelations about his childhood, that he would be as good as his word. That he would leave Anna with her. What a fool she'd been. What a blind, stupid, optimistic fool.

  "I don't like that alternative at all," she said in a wooden voice. She felt grateful for the darkness of the room. Not for the world would she betray to him how close she was to tears.

  "I don't, either," he replied, surprising her. "You see, you're the only mother Anna's ever known. She needs you as much as she needs me. I can't take her away from you."

  Haven sagged in relief against the pillows. Thank God.

  There was a short silence. "Did you really think I'd take her from you?" he asked finally.

  His admonishment was gentle, but her heightened senses heard the hurt he was trying to disguise.

  "I hoped you wouldn't," she said softly. "I prayed you wouldn't. But no, I wasn't sure. After all, Anna is your daughter. I'm the one without any rights here." She drew a deep, shaky breath. "What about alternative number two?"

  "We go ahead with what we've already planned. As soon as we get the Zieglars out of the picture, we divorce. Anna stays here with you, and I visit her as often as I can."

  "You can't be a full-time father that way," she noted.

  "My thoughts exactly. Not to mention the effect on Anna when we dissolve our marriage. I've already missed too much of her life as it is, Haven, I don't want to miss any more. So, that leaves us with alternative number three. Can you guess what it is?"

  She had an idea, and the mere thought of it made her lightheaded.

  His gaze settled squarely on hers. "We make this marriage a real one. We give Anna what she needs most. A mother and a father, together, under one roof."

  For the longest time Haven couldn't speak. She was so stunned she didn't know what to think, let alone how to feel.

  "It would mean making a commitment, Brady," she finally said.

  His gaze remained fixed on hers. "I'm aware of that."

  "It would mean putting down roots and staying in one place."

  "I'm aware of that, too."

  "I thought you weren't into commitments. Or roots."

  "I've changed my mind. For Anna, I'm willing to do most anything. What about you?"

  How could he even ask? And what was she hesitating for? He was offering her everything she'd ever wanted: Anna and himself.

  "Besides," he added, "we didn't use anything earlier. You could already be pregnant with my child."

  She froze. "Do you want more children?"

  "Surprisingly, I do. Now that I've come this far, why not do things up right?" His arm swept the room. "Let's fill this house with children, Haven. Let's be for them the parents we never had."

  Now was the time to tell him that, though she'd give anything in the world to be able to, she couldn't give him those children. But the words refused to form in her throat. Doubts seethed in her tired brain.

  If there had been any mention of caring, any hint that his decision wasn't just for Anna's sake, she might have been able to tell him. But there hadn't been. Besides, he'd said he would do anything for Anna. So her inability to give him children shouldn't matter one way or the other.

  Which was the reason she should tell him. She opened her mouth, then closed it just as quickly. She was tired of being found wanting. She'd barely survived her parents' disappointment in her. Also devastating had been the abrupt ending of what she'd considered two promising relationships when she'd disclosed her infertility. It would kill her to have Brady look at her the same way those men had. Men whom she'd believed had loved her.

  She bit her lip. "I don't know if I'm ready to think about children." It was the closest she could come to talking about the subject without telling an outright lie.

  "Then why don't we get used to each other first," he said. "Later, when the time is right, we'll talk about it."

  A heavy weight settled on her chest. Later, when the time was right, maybe she'd be able to tell him the truth.

  "What about love?" she asked.

  "What about it?" He sounded as if he was choosing his words with care.

  She shrugged. "Usually, when two people marry and settle down, they do it for love."

  "We are doing it for love, Haven. Love of Anna."

  Impatience stabbed at her, but she tamped it down. The man was being deliberately obtuse.

  "I'm talking about romantic love, Brady. Marriage is hard enough when the couple involved love each other. I can't help but think the odds are stacked against us."

  "I disagree. There are dozens of cultures in this
world that believe romantic love should never be the basis of a marriage. Arranged marriages are still doing a thriving business. Surprisingly, most of them do quite well. We like each other. We respect each other. We love Anna." His gaze ran hotly over her. "Sex isn't a problem. Seems to me a pretty good basis on which to build a marriage."

  She stared at him for a minute before replying. "What if one of us meets someone and falls in love?"

  His frown was swift, his reply immediate. "If we're concentrating on making a go of this marriage, that won't happen."

  Not to her, but that wasn't who she was worried about.

  "Look," he said, "I know this is a bit sudden. Take all the time you need to make up your mind. I won't rush you. Until then, maybe it would be better if I stayed in my own room." He took a step toward the door.

  "No, Brady."

  He stopped and turned toward her.

  "I don't need any more time. I already know my answer."

  She saw his hands clench. "Yes?"

  Pushing back a vague sense of unease, she said, "All right. Let's try to make a go of this."

  Slowly, his hands unclenched. Without a word, he crossed the floor and climbed back into bed beside her. Once the covers were arranged around him, he smiled his devilish smile.

  "Now, where were we, before all this talk sidetracked us?" Heaven help her, just looking at him made her shiver. She held her arms out to him. "Come here and I'll show you."

  When his arms closed around her and his lips captured hers, Haven forgot about her doubts and inadequacies. She even forgot she was living a lie.

  * * *

  She was awakened, not by the sun streaming through her bedroom windows or by the jangling of her alarm, but by the soft mewing of kittens and a rocking motion that could only be made by a ship at sea. Or by a small body bouncing up and down on the foot of her bed.

  Though sleep still held sway over the majority of her thought processes, she was fairly certain she wasn't on an ocean voyage. She hadn't taken a vacation in years. Which probably meant she was at home, in her bed, and, as usual, Anna was bouncing her awake. What wasn't usual was the warmth at her side that told her she wasn't alone in the bed.

  Alarm signals went off in her brain, and Haven's eyes flew open. As she'd expected, Anna was perched at the foot of her bed, bouncing merrily, three protesting kittens clutched between chubby arms. Rolling her head toward the source of the warmth at her side, Haven saw that Brady was also awake. If the look in his eyes—half amusement, half panic—was any indication, he was as aware of their predicament as she. After a meaningful glance at each other, they carefully sat up in unison, sheet pulled high to hide their nudity, and propped their backs against the cool wood of the headboard.

  "'Morning," Anna said brightly.

  "'Morning," Haven said cautiously.

  "Hey, squirt," Brady said.

  "Is it my birfday yet?"

  It was a question she'd greeted Haven with most mornings since the invitations to her party had gone out. "Not until Saturday. Today's Tuesday. Your birthday's four days away."

  "Oh." The little girl turned her attention to Brady.

  "Why are you in Binny's bed, Unca Bwady?"

  Haven choked back unexpected laughter. Leave it to Anna to go straight to the heart of the matter.

  "Binny and I are cuddling," Brady explained. "Married people do that a lot."

  Anna tilted her head to one side and gazed at him curiously. "Don't you snore anymore?"

  Haven reminded herself never to underestimate her ward's uncanny insight. In case Anna let slip that they weren't sharing a room, they'd told the little girl he slept in the guest bedroom because his snoring kept Haven awake. But here Anna was, questioning their invented story.

  "I do, but Binny's decided it doesn't bother her. From now on, I'll be sleeping here."

  The kittens squirmed their way out of Anna's arms and jumped off the bed. "Can I cwimb under the covers wif you and cuddle, too?"

  "No!" they shouted simultaneously.

  "Not this morning," Haven added in a calmer voice.

  Never had she been more aware of her nakedness. Or of Brady's. If Anna let her impulsiveness get the best of her, as she was often wont to do, it wouldn't take her but a second to discover their state of undress. And Haven would have to rack her reluctant brain harder than she ever had before for a plausible explanation. She was all for answering whatever questions the little girl asked, whenever they arose. But trying to explain the birds and the bees to a three-year-old was just a little more than she was ready to handle at the moment. She'd been hoping to postpone that particular discussion until Anna was at least twelve—preferably until she was thirty.

  "Why not?" The little girl pouted.

  "Because it's a rule," Brady said. "Only married people can cuddle together in their bed."

  Dismay was written plainly across Anna's face. "You mean we can't cuddle anymore?"

  "Of course we can," Haven said quickly. "But in your bed, and right before you go to sleep."

  "Another rule, Anna," Brady added, "is that children always knock on a closed door and wait to be invited in before entering. Can you remember that?"

  The little girl nodded.

  "Good." Brady beamed at her. "Now, why don't you gather up Glory Be, Praise Be and Hallelujah. We'll all get dressed and then we'll meet in the kitchen for breakfast. Okay?"

  "Okay."

  Kittens in arms, Anna raced out of the room. Haven sagged in relief against the headboard.

  "That was close," Brady said.

  "You're telling me," she murmured.

  "Is there a lock on that door?"

  "No."

  "There will be, first thing after breakfast." He met her gaze, and she saw his lips curve. "You look a little shell-shocked."

  "I feel a little shell-shocked." She knew by his expression that he understood she wasn't speaking just of Anna's unexpected appearance.

  He reached out a finger to trace it over her lips, and the sheet fell to his waist. Haven was helpless to repress the shiver that shook her body at his touch, or the desire that flared hotly in her belly at the sight of his broad chest.

  An answering desire burned in Brady's eyes. "It is pretty amazing, this chemistry between us, isn't it?" he murmured.

  "I've never felt anything like it."

  "I don't suppose Anna would be content to wait a little while for us to join her?"

  Haven's breathing grew ragged as she stared into his smoky gray eyes. When had she ever thought them cold? "Anna's not very patient when she's hungry."

  "Neither am I," he growled. His head lowered and his mouth claimed hers hotly. He kissed her just long enough to turn her knees to jelly. Then, with an audible sigh of regret, he drew back.

  "She'd forget all about knocking, wouldn't she?"

  Haven nodded. "Absolutely."

  "That's what I thought." Throwing back the covers, he climbed out of bed and stood before her. "Mind if I take a shower first?"

  As she stared at the magnificence of his naked body and replayed in her mind every minute of their lovemaking in delicious detail, Haven didn't think she'd have the strength to move even if the house were on fire.

  "Be my guest," she said, her voice hoarse. "I want to go for a jog anyway." Hopefully, she'd get the strength to move once he was out of the room. She had a lot to think about, and jogging always helped her sort things out.

  What was it about a man's backside that was so darned provocative? she wondered as she watched him stride toward the bathroom. She knew one thing for certain. If he didn't put the lock on the door, she would.

  Brady paused outside the bathroom door and turned to face her. "No regrets?" he asked softly.

  Only that she couldn't tell him the truth. Besides that, everything was hunky-dory. She shook her head and forced a smile. "No regrets."

  * * *

  It was nearing lunchtime when her assistant poked her head around Haven's office door. "Mail's here."
r />   "Just lay it in the in box," Haven instructed absently, her attention focused on the grant request form spread across her desk.

  Out of the corner of one eye, she watched while Violet deposited the pile of mail where she'd requested. Her pen stilled when she saw a large manila envelope. Her stomach lurched. The last manila envelope she'd received had not contained good news.

  She waited until Violet left the room to reach for the mail. The manila envelope was on the bottom. It took a minute for her to recognize the name of the return addressee. Relief surged through her when she realized it was the report on Brady she'd requested from the private detective. In all the upheaval and confusion of the past nine days, she'd somehow managed to forget about it.

  Haven sat back in her chair and turned the envelope over in her hands, debating. A long moment later, she released a heavy sigh. It wouldn't be right for her to read it. After all, she had arranged for it at a time when she had known nothing about Brady or his character. She would do well to remember how she had felt when she'd found out he had commissioned a similar report on her. If it was an invasion of her privacy for him to read that report, then it was an equal invasion of his privacy for her to read this one.

  Besides, what could the report contain that she didn't already know? She'd had to bully it out of him, but he'd already told her about his mother's abandonment and about bouncing from one foster home to another. He'd told her about his adoptive father and his inheritance. He'd told her about his nomadic life-style and his desire to live free from ties to any other human being. In a moment of sheer exhaustion, he'd even told her about his abortive meeting with his birth mother, a fact she was certain the private investigator had not uncovered. And he'd willingly volunteered the information about his time in captivity. What else could the report contain?

  Nothing. Nothing that mattered, anyway. There was nothing vital about him that she didn't already know.

  Without a second thought, Haven tossed the envelope into the wastebasket and went back to work.

  * * *

  Chapter 12

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