“Aaron put snakes in the last housekeeper’s bed. She left without a word. The kids had been in the house alone for several hours before I got home.” Travis’ words caught her off guard, and she leaned back enough to study his eyes. They glittered with ferocity. “Do you know what could have happened to them? How many different ways they could’ve hurt themselves with no adult around?”
“I’d never leave the boys alone.” He didn’t look as if he believed her. She raised her hand from his shoulder and touched his cheek. “Travis. I would never, under any circumstances, leave those boys home alone.” How could he think such a thing of her? “Besides, Aaron already put a snake in my bed. I’m still here, aren’t I?”
As she watched, the strained lines of his face slowly softened. His gaze gentled, and even the grip he held on her hand eased. “They’re all I’ve got. They’re everything to me.”
Her heart twisted in her chest, and tears stung her eyes. This was the real Travis. She was sure of it. The side he hadn’t shown her the whole week she’d been living under his roof.
She smiled. “They are very good boys. A little feisty and very imaginative when it comes to trying to gross me out, but they’re so sweet and loving. You have every reason to be proud of all three of them. And I promise they’re safe with me. I’d never do anything to hurt them. Ever.”
She felt the sigh that slipped from his lips as his body relaxed. The tension seemed to flow out of him, and he tucked her right hand against his chest. His other hand eased up to her back and pulled her body against his. “I’m sorry, too. I think I misjudged you. But don’t lie in front of the boys, especially for their benefit. Aaron knows he’s not supposed to bring snakes and frogs into the house. And he’s especially not supposed to use them to try and scare the hired help.”
The hired help.
Neela swallowed and ducked her head and rested her forehead against his shoulder. That’s all she’d be to Travis now. Just the hired help.
God, but he smelled like heaven. The freshly washed shirt had hung in the sun all afternoon. It made him smell as fresh as the outdoors.
His hand coasted down her back, coming to rest just above the waistband of her slacks. Two inches to the left and he’d feel the puckered, disfigured flesh of her scars. But until he did, she wanted to stay right here. She’d forgotten what it felt like to be held in strong arms. Smell that unique scent of male flesh. Feel the heat of another body next to hers.
Four years ago when Warren had walked away from her because he couldn’t be with a woman who would be so irreparably scarred, she’d given up on men. On ever feeling intimate human contact from the opposite sex.
Her body tensed even as she fought back the pain of betrayal and loneliness she’d lived with for so long. She’d sworn, time and time again, that she was over it. That she’d never shed another tear over Warren’s abandonment, over the loss of her baby and the impossibility of ever having another. She’d moved on and started life in a different direction. She’d gone back to college to finish her business degree. She didn’t need a man. She didn’t!
“Princess?”
She squeezed her eyes shut. She would not cry. Definitely not now, not while in Travis’ arms. “Hmm?”
“The music stopped two minutes ago.”
Her cheeks heated in a flush as she slowly stepped away from him, unable to raise her gaze to his face. “Excuse me,” she said, her throat tight. “I need to go to the washroom.” She made a hasty retreat toward the back of the restaurant.
Enclosing herself in a stall, she leaned against the cold metal of the door and let the tears fall. She was getting better, she reassured herself as she swiped at her watering eyes. Hadn’t broken down in over a month. Longest stretch so far. She wouldn’t count the night of her arrival. She’d kept it together very well, all considering.
But damn it, now that she’d been in Travis’ arms, how was she to forget how it’d felt? What his big hand had felt like splayed across her back, heating her flesh through the thin cotton of her blouse? What his thighs felt like brushing against hers as they slowly moved around the small dance floor?
“Bugger it all,” she whispered. She should have stayed in England and faced her father. At least then she wouldn’t start dreaming about her white knight again. The fantasies of her youth would have stayed just that, imaginings of a child. Now they were clear and fresh, and Neela the woman knew exactly what Travis Kincaid could do to her body.
Chapter Five
Travis cast another glance at Neela as she stood at the kitchen counter dropping cookie dough on a baking sheet. From where he sat on the sofa with the boys watching a Disney movie, her back was to him. Her lovely round ass was encased in jeans—crisp, obviously never worn denims—that could be a little snugger, could show off a few more curves. Her long-sleeved blouse covered her from neck to wrists, the tails neatly tucked in at the waist.
He didn’t understand her one bit. She dressed nicely—too nicely for a farm. Even in sweltering hundred-and-ten-degree weather, she covered her entire body with clothes. A couple of evenings he’d returned before she’d had a chance to shower, and he’d seen the marks her sweat left on her shirts, how the material clung to her back. Worried she’d collapse from heat exhaustion, he’d mentioned once that she should get some cooler clothes. She’d shrugged and told him she was fine.
Since dinner the other night at Josie’s, she’d been quiet and withdrawn whenever he was around. Subdued even with the boys, whereas before she’d played and teased and joked with them. Something he’d said had put even more shadows behind her eyes, and he hated himself for it.
His gut twisted when he thought of what she’d looked like after they’d danced. She’d scurried off before he could say anything more to her and, when she returned to the table, her eyes had been red rimmed.
He laid his head back and stared up at the rough pine ceiling. He’d insulted her and insinuated she was a trollop, and she’d slapped him for it. But he’d apologized, and she’d cried.
Women.
“Who wants to lick the spoon and bowl?” she called.
All three boys scrambled off the sofa and made a beeline for her. She was good with the boys—something he’d definitely never expected. She handed each of them a spoon with a dab of dough on it, then had them sit at the table where she put the mixing bowl between them and told them to share.
She glanced up and caught him staring. He smiled. She didn’t. Instead she leaned down and whispered something to Bobby, who scooped his spoon into the bowl then scooted off the chair and came toward him.
“Want bite?”
Travis lifted Bobby into his arms and growled as he nibbled on his son’s ear. Bobby giggled and tried to wiggle away. He set the boy on the floor and accepted the spoon with just a bit of chocolate cookie dough. “Thank you, son.”
Bobby grinned.
Travis stuck the little blob of dough in his mouth before looking back toward the kitchen. Neela watched him with a tiny, almost-not-there smile curving her lips. When she realized he was staring at her, she turned away.
“Okay, boys. Time to brush your teeth and wash up for bed.”
“The cookies...” Aaron began, but stopped when Travis frowned at him.
“We’ll have some with lunch tomorrow,” Neela reassured him. “You’ve had enough sweets tonight.”
Aaron nodded then hugged her around the waist. She smiled at him and kissed his forehead. She repeated the process with the other two. A hug, a kiss, a “Goodnight, sweetie.”
“Nee tuck,” Chris said, clinging to her like a vine.
“Nope, that’s Daddy’s job,” she said with a soft smile for his youngest son. “I get to say goodnight here. Daddy tucks you in and reads your stories.”
Chris stuck out his lower lip in a very dramatic pout. Travis wanted to kick himself for the rude way he’d told Neela that he, and he alone, tucked the boys in at night. They loved her. What would it hurt if she read them a story? Lord knows h
er soft accent and gentle voice would make any bedtime story sound better than he could ever dream of.
She handed him Chris, who reluctantly let go of her. “I have to watch the cookies, anyway,” she said with a smile, but it looked forced to him. “We don’t want charcoal cookies, do we?”
“Nooo,” Aaron said.
She ruffled his hair. “Off to bed then. Dream sweet dreams for me.”
Aaron hugged her again then ran for the stairs, followed closely by Bobby.
“Um, Neela?” Travis said, feeling awkward. She looked at him, and he lost his voice. She was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen. Seeing the sadness in her eyes, knowing he put some of it there, twisted his gut. “I’ll be back down in a few minutes. Keep a couple cookies warm for me?”
The right side of her lips curved. She nodded.
Carrying Chris, he went upstairs.
Chris and Bobby went down easily, as they usually did. He sat on the edge of Chris’ bed and read them a few pages from a children’s version of King Arthur tales. Within minutes the boys were asleep. Aaron was another story.
“Me and my brothers are keeping Neela, Dad.”
Travis tucked the blankets around Aaron’s shoulders and shook his head. “You can’t keep a person like a stray dog, son.”
“Can too. She loves us. She said so. And you can’t make her leave.” Aaron’s face had turned red, his voice rising in volume with each word.
Travis sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed his boy’s hair back from his forehead. It was time to take them all into town for a haircut. Maybe this weekend.
“She’s not going. She didn’t even get scared when I put the snake in her bed so she has to stay.”
Travis nailed Aaron with a glare. “About that...”
Aaron crossed his arms over the top of the blanket and met his gaze squarely. “She didn’t get mad, so you can’t either.”
Travis didn’t want to fight tonight. He should scold Aaron for his attitude and his tone of voice, but he just didn’t have it in him. The boys had been running hot and cold with their affections toward him for several days now, so fighting with Aaron wasn’t going help that situation any. Hell, at least he knew what the tempers and ignoring were about now. They wanted to keep Neela.
“You want a story tonight, or are you going to be grumpy?”
“Grumpy.” Aaron scowled, and Travis almost laughed. The boy looked just like him.
“Okay.” Travis kissed his forehead, smoothed the blankets, and then flipped off the light on the nightstand. “I love you.”
After a long pause, Aaron grudgingly said, “Love you, too.” Just before Travis shut the door, though, Aaron added a disgruntled, “Keeping her.”
The scent of fresh-baked cookies wafted up the stairs as Travis descended to the first floor. As he rounded the corner into the kitchen, once again the sight of Neela stole his breath. She hummed softly, her black hair swaying against her shoulders as she scooped cookies off the sheets onto newspaper spread over the table. When she saw him standing there, her eyes widened for an instant before she turned away.
For days he’d lived with a case of semi-arousal, and the slightest thing could send him into a full-blown case of lust. The scent of her as she walked through the room. Her big dark eyes watching him across the table as they ate dinner. The way her hips swished in slow seductive movements as she walked.
“Chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin or peanut butter?” she asked.
Jasmine and sugar, he wanted to say. The taste of her still haunted him late at night when he lay in bed alone. The fantasies of her body had become so acute, so real, that this morning he awoke and rolled over, reaching for her. But the bed was empty. She’d only been a dream. A vivid, amazing dream.
“One of each?” He pushed away from the wall to sprawl in a chair at the table.
“You sound like the boys,” she said on a soft laugh. “But I guess I’ll let you get away with it. Coffee or milk?”
She wouldn’t look at him, kept her back to him while she moved around the kitchen with neat efficiency.
“Ah, let’s go all the way tonight and have some milk.”
She poured a glass and set it on the table next to him. “Well, I think I’ll head up to bed.”
He caught her wrist in a light grasp when she tried to walk out of the kitchen. “No. Join me. Please,” he added when she looked as if she might argue. Her skin felt like velvet against his rough hand. She was so...delicate. Fine boned. Her height gave her the appearance of sturdiness, but she seemed almost frail sometimes.
Finally, she turned her head and looked at him. She seemed as timid as the rabbits that reside in the fields. Wary of him.
Who could blame her? Even so, the thought niggled at him and made him want to kick his own ass. Who was he to have treated her so badly?
Today while they were working together, Jeff told him that Carol was concerned about Neela. Especially after they’d witnessed his display of temper at Josie’s the other night. Jeff wouldn’t tell him any details, but Neela had come here to escape some kind of problems with her father. Jeff confided that she had nowhere else to turn.
“Can we just sit and talk for a while?”
She jerked her wrist from him and rubbed it with her other hand. “I don’t like it when you want to talk.” She met his gaze full on now and frowned. “You accuse me of things. Yell at me. Treat me—”
“I’m sorry.” He stood and placed his hands on her shoulders, wanting to pull her into his arms. Needing to feel her body against his again, like they’d been when they danced. His cock jumped in anticipation.
She flinched, moving away from his reach.
“Neela.”
“Don’t.”
“What?”
She rubbed her left shoulder as if his touch had hurt. “Don’t touch me.”
“I—” To hell with it, he thought. Now or never. If she beat him to a pulp afterward, it’d be worth it.
Chapter Six
He took the step separating them and gently cupped her face between his hands. Her eyes widened. Her mouth dropped open in surprise.
He brought his mouth down on hers as gently as his raging body would let him. He groaned at her taste. Chocolate and peanut butter. Woman.
“Neela,” he whispered as he trailed kisses along her jaw to her ear. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry I hurt you before.”
A tiny, erotic whimper escaped her. When her arms wound around his neck and she returned the kiss, nipping at his throat, he knew he’d won the battle.
Spearing his fingers through her silky hair, he tilted her head and delved into her mouth again. This time her tongue twined with his, teasing, probing, dancing. She arched against his body, and he nearly shattered. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, and her belly pressed his hard-on.
“Bed,” he panted when he moved to her neck, teasing the tendons with his teeth. “I want you in bed.”
She moaned. Her hands slid over his shoulders, down his back. He wanted to be naked, to feel her touch on his flesh. To feel her body under his as he thrust into her heat.
He reached for the top button on her blouse, flicking it open as he nibbled on her chin. The second button. The third. He lowered his head between the soft mounds of her breasts and inhaled her. No woman had ever smelled so good.
Slipping open the forth button, he nuzzled her right breast, pulling the bra’s cup down with his teeth, exposing a dark, hard nipple. He captured her between his lips and looked up in time to see her throw her head back. She arched on a low, husky moan, grabbed his head, and held him there.
He drew her deep into his mouth as he pulled her blouse from her jeans. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against his body, grinding his cock against the apex of her thighs, feeling her heat even through layers of denim.
Neela cried out. Her fingers fisted in his hair.
The slight pain added to his need. He rose up and captured her mouth, then thrust his tongue in parody
of what his body would do to hers. Hard and deep.
“Please,” she begged, pushing herself against his cock as her head fell back.
He wanted to move slow, to make this last, but his body wouldn’t let him. It’d been so long since he’d been with a woman he knew, once he got them both naked, it would be over too soon. He had to make it good for her.
He shoved her shirt down her arms, dragging her bra straps with it. Her breasts bounced free. He gripped her shoulders and moved to take her left breast into his mouth. Then froze.
He looked at her exposed body, where his hand cupped her shoulder. Tortured pink flesh, puckered and rough. His stomach twisted in a knot.
Her hands fisted in his hair, head back, exposing her slender neck, eyes closed as she panted.
He slowly pushed her blouse away from her sides. “Oh, God.” Her entire left side appeared scarred, damaged. The side of her breast, her arm, her belly. “What the hell happened to you?”
She lifted her head and met his gaze with unfocused eyes, until he softly ran his fingers over the scars on the side of her breast. In an instant she cried out, but not with pleasure. She jerked away from him and stumbled against the counter, frantically straightening her clothes. “Go away.”
“Neela. Sweetheart. What happened?”
She sobbed and tried scooting from his reach, but he caught her easily and pinned her back against his front, his arms gently entrapping her. She fought his hold, squirming this way and that.
“Don’t!” She pushed at his wrists. “Let me go.”
“Shh,” he whispered in her ear. “Shh. Don’t fight me, princess. Don’t. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Finally, she stopped fighting and went almost limp in his arms.
It wasn’t that he called her princess, but more the way he said the word. That soft, soothing voice helped calm her a little. Her body ached with unfulfilled arousal and heated with shame. Once he kissed her, she’d lost all thought of not letting him touch her. Of keeping her distance. No man had ever set her body afire as quickly and easily as Travis.
Anna Leigh Keaton - Risking It All Page 3
