He didn't look much different to her now. Well, clotheswise, but like then, she'd seen beneath them.
Bryce poured and held out the glass to her. "Ciara?"
She blinked and accepted it, yet said, "I don't have trouble sleeping." She'd lived for years on less than four hours sleep a night.
"Clear conscience?"
"Guilty one?" she retorted.
He smirked. "Nope. Pure as the driven snow."
His thoughts exploded with the images of Diana and guilt washed over him in hard waves.
His expression tightened. He gulped his drink, staring somewhere near the edge of the counter and wishing the wine would wash away the image of her dying to give birth to the child she wanted from a man who didn't love her.
At that moment, he couldn't remember any good times and that hurt as much as the guilt. He could scarcely recall Diana's smile, what it felt like to hold her. What he felt when he did. She wasn't gone even a year.
What kind of man did that make him?
An undeserving one, he thought and lifted his gaze to Ciara.
* * *
Chapter 5
« ^ »
Ciara frowned, wondering what hole he just fell into. His expression looked pained and distant and she replayed that last bit of conversation.
A guilty conscience? This Boy Scout? And over what?
"That look is making me curious," she said.
Bryce blinked. "Turnabout is fair play, I guess."
He was hiding secrets too, Ciara thought. "You never play fair, Ashland."
His sudden smile was devastating, and although she felt it was a little forced, when he inclined his head to the sunroom, she went like a trained puppy. Pathetic, she thought and wondered if she was just hungry for male company. With a male who wasn't trying to get national secrets out of her.
He settled into the big overstuffed chair.
Ciara thought he looked odd against the flowery pattern as she found her now favorite spot near the window. She curled up into the corner of the sofa and gazed out the window. The moonlight splashed across the water and the shore. It looked like glass, and she let out a soft sigh. This was truly a heavenly place. And if things were different, she might have been able to dream about staying here. Belonging. A soft smile crossed her lips at the ridiculous yearning.
Bryce sipped his wine, watching her. The robe had slipped off her shoulder, her hair spilling down her back in long chestnut curls. He said what was on his mind.
"You're beautiful, Ciara."
Her lips curved gently, yet she kept staring out the window. "Thank you." It had been a long time since she'd heard that. From any man. And from this one, it was dangerous. She changed the subject instantly. "You're lucky. This is an incredible place."
He studied her, her chin in her palm, her elbow braced on the back of the sofa. She looked serene and content. Almost as if it were the first time in her life she'd relaxed.
"Well, you're easily amused I see."
She smiled and kept staring. "Simple pleasures," she said softly as if talking too loud would destroy them.
"I loved growing up here. It has everything anyone could want. I wish I could spend more time enjoying those simple pleasures."
"Me, too."
He knew she meant with Carolina.
"I'd forgotten what they were," she said.
"How so?"
"No real chance to enjoy them, I guess."
"Well this is a small town with a lot of simplicity. It's home. Safe and a good place to raise Carolina." He paused and then said, "It's not exactly Hong Kong though, is it?"
Okay, she thought, that zinger didn't hit too hard. "Why did you leave the Secret Service?"
"My wife needed me home." Bryce frowned slightly. He'd never said that out loud to anyone. He'd made excuses to himself and Diana about leaving the Secret Service two months after they married, that be was tired of the traveling, of the risks. But that wasn't it. He'd felt responsible for her happiness. Or rather, her lack of it. He couldn't love her and had ruined her life. It was that simple and that difficult to forget.
"She didn't like you traveling, huh?"
"Diana wasn't good at being alone and … I'd rather not talk about her." Not to you, he thought. Hell, not to anyone.
Ciara nodded, understanding his late wife's situation. It's the reason she'd never married, and why most of her fellow field agents were single or divorced. They were never home when they were needed and wives and husbands who couldn't handle the secretiveness and long absences usually strayed or left altogether.
Oh, what we do for our country, she thought, then watched a gull swoop down to the water to pluck a fish from the sea. It made her breath catch.
"What is it?"
"A gull. Night fishing."
He rose and moved closer to her, peering out the window. "It's a hawk."
She looked up. In that instant she appeared innocent and a little scared. He eased to the sofa beside her and set his wineglass on the coffee table. He pointed to the long dock. "I've had that little johnboat since I was sixteen," he said, gesturing to the battered craft beside the cabin cruiser. "There isn't a part of these rivers that I don't know."
"When was the last time you were out there?"
He sighed to himself. "Too long to think about."
"Maybe you need to do it again. Of course, the cabin cruiser would be more comfortable."
Her dry tone didn't escape him. "Yeah, but seeing the river from a little boat like that, it's just better all around, more in touch with the wildlife. Wild hogs come down to the shore, you know."
She didn't, but that was hardly on her mind right now. His attention was focused on her and he reached, touching her hair, sweeping it off her neck.
Instantly she tensed and eyed him, pulling the robe up over her shoulder. "Trying to seduce me, Bryce?"
"Will it work?"
Yes, oh yes, she thought. "Sure." His muscles clamped hard at that. "But that's not what you want."
He frowned. "How can you be sure?"
"I can't, but you could have any woman you wanted. I may be convenient, but I'm not the forever type."
"Who said I wanted forever?"
"We've been down this road, remember? Yesterday. Or was it the day before?"
"Or five years before."
Her lips thinned. "You really need to let that go." She was more than right, yet something in him, something he didn't understand pushed him on. "I keep seeing you—"
"Don't."
"Feeling you."
"Bryce. Quit that." She left the couch, setting her glass down as she did.
Absently he realized she hadn't drunk any of it.
"Running again, Ciara?"
"I'm staying here for Carolina. So that means you stay away."
"I'm trying, God knows I am. But I have this almost uncontrollable need to touch you."
"Well stuff it somewhere! I won't be used again!"
He scowled. Did she mean like they'd used each other in Hong Kong, or by someone else?
"You don't want me, Bryce, trust me. One night was all we had or ever will. I couldn't give more than that if I wanted."
He eyed her thoughtfully. "Why do I believe you now?"
"Because it's true." She paused and then said, "We have nowhere to go, understand?"
He didn't say anything as he stood. She backstepped and hated the cowardly move.
But this man had an arsenal all his own. He had weapons that had first-strike capability. His eyes. Oh, he had the sexiest eyes. That sly stare that spoke volumes and made her feel incredibly exotic when she was just average.
And now he was wasting that charisma on her. She couldn't, would not let herself fall any deeper. Though she desperately wanted to take what that velvety look promised.
Bryce advanced, stopping inches from her. "Keeping our distance hasn't been easy so far."
She laughed shortly. "Tell me about it."
"And if you'd quit looking at m
e like that, it might help."
Ciara's brows knitted slightly. "Looking what way?"
"Like you want me to strip you down right now."
Oh, she did, she thought. She really did. Then she lied, "You're reading what you want to see." She really had to get better control over herself, she thought.
He shook his head slowly. "If there is one thing I know about you, Ciara, it's what you look like when you want me."
How had she become so transparent when it was her job not to be? "Keep thinking of me as the nanny, and that should help."
"Okay. And I'll be the boss."
"Boss, no, employer, yes."
He laid his hands on her shoulders and her heart skipped and dove in her chest.
"You have to stop touching me. You agreed."
"One last time," he whispered.
"No." There was a plea in her tone no one could mistake.
"Yes."
His mouth neared.
Ciara knew she was lost. Just looking into his eyes, she came unwound, like silk ribbons refusing to stay neatly tied. Then his mouth touched hers and her insides liquefied, and she swore her willpower slithered to the floor to puddle at her feet.
His arms came around her. Slowly this time, meandering. His kiss was gentler, more controlled, but greedy. With exquisite patience, he worried her lips and her toes curled in the carpet. He swept his tongue across her lips and her body gravitated toward him. Slowly he pressed her to his length and she felt every strong inch of him imprinting to her body.
This was unfair. This was different.
This wasn't the out-of-control passion.
It was seduction. Slow deliberation. His tongue pushed between her lips and she moaned darkly, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him harder to her. His breathing was as fast as hers, escalating with each passing moment. Emotion poured through this kiss when before, it was simply raw, blinding passion. It made her heart clench.
Her hands pushed up his back, feeling his strength and wanting to lean into it. On it. To be safe and wanted. His mouth rolled erotically back and forth over hers, each stroke, each pass uncoiling the passion she'd tried to suppress. It was sweet and heady like the fragrance of magnolias in the early summer. Lingering and poignant. Wrapping her comfortingly. It was one last time before the defenses went up, she told herself, before she had to say no to her emotions. She opened wide for him, seizing the moment for herself. For later, when she was alone again. When she was longing for things she couldn't have, for a real life. For normalcy. For a life with him and his daughter.
That thought rocked her to her heels.
Ciara tore her mouth from his, then quickly pushed out of his arms.
She touched her mouth for a moment, then her wildly beating heart as she lifted her gaze to his.
Bryce saw the sheen of tears in her dark eyes.
"Don't ever do that again," she whispered hotly before she turned and fled from the room.
He knew what she meant. Don't kiss her like he meant it. Don't hold her like he never wanted to let go.
He'd felt it, too. The difference. The change in himself and in her. It had only been a moment, but it was enough. And it shook him to his soul. That kiss had only made this worse. He hadn't meant to show her that. Ever. Yet he hadn't gotten her out of his system five years ago and he hadn't now.
She was in his blood.
And just short of dying, he wondered bow they were going to keep on living together.
* * *
Bryce got what he deserved, he supposed. Ciara was ice-cold toward him the next morning, hardly sparing him a glance as she tended to his daughter. It was as if he'd breached an unknown line in her defenses and those walls were right back where they'd started. The door was closed.
No one was allowed in.
It stung, since he'd barely slept last night thinking about it.
And if the dark circles under her eyes were any indication, she'd been thinking about it, too.
"Come on, sweetheart, let's get you all dolled up for public viewing," she told Carolina as she lifted her out of her high chair.
"Public viewing?" Bryce said, taking a last sip of coffee before he had to leave.
"We're going to the park."
"Be sure to put some sunscreen on her, it gets…"
"I have it covered," Ciara said in a monotone as she pried little baby fingers from her hair.
"I imagine you do."
Her gaze snapped to his. The silence between them pulsed and Bryce said, "Ciara, about last night…"
"No. No more last nights or five years ago or anything, Bryce. No nothing but Carolina." She propped the baby on her hip. "How much clearer do I have to be?"
She didn't expect an answer, but she couldn't keep her distance emotionally if he kept bringing up their sexual attraction for each other. It was that kiss last night, like no other before, and sometime during the night Ciara admitted it had scared the hell out of her, made her feel stripped and vulnerable and weak. Because she'd wanted more. She wanted to slip easily into a role she'd no business considering.
She was temporary.
Very temporary.
She was a CIA agent, surveillance specialist, covert operation. She was good at what she did. She even had an alias, a code name, and heck, Stuart wasn't even her real last name.
If Bryce knew any of that, she'd be out of here as fast as last week's trash.
She'd been right about him. He was deadly, a foe that was too hard to fight. Especially when he kissed her like he … like he adored her. Like he wanted more from her than to rekindle a long ago night. And she didn't know what she wasn't willing to risk more. His anger, or losing these few days of being normal. Of just being Ciara. Mentally she snickered at her own audacity. She was lying to him, what was normal about that?
At her bitter expression, Bryce's brows drew down, his scowl as hard as hers. He wondered what was going on in that sharp mind, besides drawing more barriers. He'd known something had changed between them last night, in that single kiss. It had suddenly involved deeper emotions. It spoke of a gamble she didn't want any part of, and neither did he. He reminded himself that he'd already screwed up one woman's life, and likely would again if he kept at it long enough.
He stood, reaching for his jacket. "I'll be late," he said, slipping it on.
With a sharp nod, she left the kitchen and he followed. They parted in the foyer, yet a whine came from his daughter and Carolina, not to be denied, pouted at her father's inattention. Bryce smiled gently and stepped close, running his hand over his baby's downy curls and kissing her. "Bye, my princess," he whispered and then lifted his gaze to Ciara's.
Frosty eyes stared back at him, yet her hand lovingly stroked his daughter's back. If ever there was a fortress, he thought.
"See you later," she said, then turned and mounted the stairs, still smelling his cologne and still feeling the heat of his body that her knees almost folded. Damn him, she thought.
Bryce walked to the door. He was halfway out when something made him stop. He glanced back over his shoulder, unwilling to admit he needed a last look at her. While cool tension radiated from her like a winter chill, even with her back to him, Carolina was happily gurgling away in her arms, completely unaware of the trouble between them.
Bryce wondered for the hundredth time why he could give himself a good talking to about why he shouldn't get involved, in any form, and be prepared to face Ciara down, then take one look at her, and all the warnings vanished.
He admitted she was a weakness he never knew he had.
And one he planned to fight. Big talk, he thought as he stepped outside and closed the door behind him. His life with Diana was a harsh reminder of the pain he could cause. And even as cool a customer as Ciara was, he couldn't do that to her.
* * *
"Ciara, look who wants to join in."
Ciara looked up from teaching three children to swim, to where Bryce's sister, Hope, was sitting under the shade of
the deck overhang. Hope pointed to Carolina, who had one chubby leg hiked up in a feeble attempt to climb out of the playpen.
Ciara smiled. "My lord, she hasn't even taken her first steps and already she wants to run." Making the kids sit on the side of the pool, she went to the baby, gently pushing her leg down and telling her no.
Carolina's lower lip curled down.
"Don't try that pout with me, young lady," Ciara said. "This is for your own safety." Carolina dropped down onto her diaper-padded rump and whimpered. Fat tears filled her blue eyes. Ciara took pity and lifted her out of the playpen.
"Wimp," Hope said laughingly as she traded places with Ciara as lifeguard.
Ciara knew there was a guilty look smeared over her face, but she just couldn't stand to see her little charge unhappy when she kept thinking about that other nanny neglecting her. She didn't want Carolina to think she was the same. At that thought, she smirked to herself, wondering if the child thought of her as anything but the person who kept her dry and well fed.
Settling in a lounge chair, she watched the children and three mothers playing in the pool. She'd met Bryce's sister Hope at the park when Hope recognized Carolina, and Ciara had struck up an easy conversation with the dark-haired woman, which surprised her, since she hadn't had much chance to talk to any woman who wasn't an agent, or a source. Ciara never expected the quick friendship forming with these women, she admitted. She'd little in common with Hope or her two friends, Portia and Katey.
That reality had hit her when she was driving over to the park and found herself looking for snipers, escape routes and possible threats. It had taken a few minutes to remember where she was. She'd bet a year's pay that not another woman at the park, or in this town had done that this week. She reminded herself that she wasn't in danger, that her only real care in the world was making Bryce's baby happy. She wasn't used to it and wondered if she could ever forget her past and be normal.
Because pathetically normal sounded so damned appealing lately.
When the morning grew increasingly hotter, Ciara had suggested to Hope and the other women that they come over to use the pool. The moms snapped at the chance. Apparently, Hope hadn't been over in a while because her brother hadn't invited her. Something Ciara found appalling.
SINGLE FATHER SEEKS... Page 6
