The Littlest Stowaway

by Gina Wilkins

  But she didn’t want him to go away. She wanted him to keep kissing her. She wanted to feel those big, clever hands on her body. She wanted to discover for herself if the rest of him tasted as spicy and delectable as his mouth. She wanted to know how it felt to fly with him without ever leaving the ground.

  She wanted Steve. And maybe, just this once, it was time for her to do something just for herself. Just once, she didn’t want to be sensible and responsible and predictable, she thought, bringing her mouth to his again. It was time to make a choice based on her own desires, not a decision tailored to please someone else.

  Just this once...

  “Have you really dreamed about me, Steve?” she asked, her voice sounding unusually sultry even to her.

  “Oh, yeah,” he muttered, his lips moving against her cheek. “Too many times to count.”

  She ran her hands lingeringly across his bare shoulders, noticing again that his skin seemed unusually warm. It was almost as if the sheer masculine energy of him could hardly be contained. “Why don’t you tell me about your dreams?” she asked, amazed at her own sudden boldness.

  His eyes gleamed. “Why don’t I show you, instead?”

  Nerves and anticipation battled inside her. Anticipation won. “Why don’t you?” she murmured, lifting her face invitingly to his.

  Somehow he managed to kiss her and maneuver her into his bedroom all at the same time.

  She’d always known that he was a very resourceful man.

  The robe she had knotted so securely opened easily beneath his fingers. His hands slipped inside, drawing her closer until she was pressed against his bare chest. The first jolt of contact made her breath stutter. Her skin felt so cool in contrast to his, so soft and yielding in comparison to his solid strength. But when she felt him tremble, she knew he was as deeply affected by this moment as she was.

  Still holding her against him, he kissed her until her knees were weak, until she was incapable of standing upright without clinging to him. And when his strength gave out, as well, they fell together onto the bed. And still he’d done nothing more than hold her, kiss her.

  Aching for more, she arched upward. “Touch me, Steve.”

  “I’ve waited so long to hear you say that,” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

  “You can stop waiting. Touch me.”

  She gasped in relief and pleasure when his hands closed over her breasts. His husky groan expressed his own emotions.

  Casey hadn’t lost all remnants of her common sense. She wasn’t unaware of their unsettled circumstances. She hadn’t forgotten the baby sleeping in the other room. She wasn’t trying to delude herself that she and Steve were suddenly an ideal couple. But something powerful had been building between them from the day they’d first met, and they’d both known it. All of Casey’s resistance hadn’t made it go away.

  She had wanted him when she’d tried to make herself believe she didn’t even like him. Now that she’d spent this weekend with him, and had been forced to acknowledge his kindness, his generosity, his reckless courage and almost quixotic loyalty, she only wanted him more. Maybe it wasn’t wise. Maybe it would only lead to disappointment and heartache. She knew full well what her father would say if he were around to see her consorting this way with his competition, and what Edward would think about her recklessness. But it was her choice. Her decision.

  If it was a mistake, it was one she was making of her own free will. And the sensation was both heady and liberating.

  She ran her hands through Steve’s lush, thick brown hair—something she’d always secretly wanted to do. She trailed her fingers down his neck to his broad shoulders, spread her palms against his back and reveled in the heat he generated. Her limbs were fluid and relaxed when he slipped the robe away and pulled her against him. She gave herself over to pleasure, abandoning hesitation. If she was going to go through with this—and she was—she intended to make it a memorable occasion for both of them.

  Judging from the murmurs of approval her movements evoked from Steve, she was successful.

  She waited impatiently while he stripped off his jeans, fumbled in the nightstand drawer, and then returned to her. Wrapping her legs around him, she fused her mouth with his as he brought their bodies together with one deep, powerful thrust.

  All the rationalizations Casey had used for making love with Steve evaporated—at that moment, she couldn’t even form a coherent thought.

  Steve tore his mouth from hers, gasping for breath, shuddering with the effort he was making to remain in control. “Casey,” he whispered, cupping her face between his hands and raining kisses over her skin. Moving excruciatingly slowly, he murmured endearments to her, telling her how beautiful she was, how badly he had wanted her for so long, telling her that making love with her was even better than he had hoped it would be.

  Growing increasingly impatient, she moved eagerly beneath him, running her hands over him, urging him in broken whispers to hurry, to help her, to give them both what they craved so badly.

  Steve wouldn’t be rushed. “Not yet, darlin’,” he breathed, nuzzling her ear. “I’ve waited too long.”

  “We have to—” She broke off with a gasp when he made a particularly inspired move, and then she tried again. “We have to hurry. The baby—”

  “Isn’t going anywhere,” he finished for her. “Kiss me, Casey.”

  She could almost feel her mind empty when his mouth covered hers again, when his tongue swept between her lips to probe, taste; explore. Need was building inside her, clawing its way to the surface. Her movements became more frenetic, more desperate, her hands more greedy as she clutched him, almost begged him to go faster. Deeper. Higher.

  She knew the moment she pushed him past the edge of his control. A groan ripped from his chest, vibrating through both of them. And then he gave her exactly what she’d been begging for.

  He took her flying. And for once, she wasn’t afraid to soar.

  STEVE LIFTED HIS HEAD from the pillow with a start. He lay facedown, naked, limbs sprawled. And he was alone.

  Blinking his vision into focus, he rolled onto his back, scrubbing one hand over his face. He hadn’t meant to go to sleep. He had to blame it on a couple of sleepless nights followed by an interlude of mindblowing sex. Totally knocked him out, he thought wryly.

  He glanced at the bedside clock and realized he’d been sleeping for more than an hour. He hoped Casey wasn’t annoyed with him for crashing that way. If she was—well, he’d be more than happy to try to make it up to her, he thought with a smile that felt rather smug. Knowing she would be a good deal more than annoyed if she saw him looking a bit too pleased with himself, he smoothed his face and rolled to sit up on the side of the bed.

  He needed a shower and food. And then he needed Casey again. He wondered what the odds were that he would get everything he wanted.

  Assuming that Casey was taking care of Annie since he didn’t hear crying, he ducked into the bathroom for a quick shower. He left his hair wet, but took the time to shave. Something he should have done before, he thought with a grimace. He hoped he hadn’t scraped Casey’s soft, delicate skin.

  Thinking of Casey—the way her skin had tasted, the way she had felt beneath him and around him—was getting him aroused all over again. It had been too damned long since he’d been with a woman, he thought. He simply hadn’t been able to find anyone in recent months who challenged him and intrigued him the way his fiery, beautiful rival had.

  Everything was going to be different between them now. He wasn’t certain how they would work out their differences—business or personal—but he was determined to try. He believed the end results would be worth whatever effort it took to get there. But first, they had to deal with Annie.

  Wearing jeans, a knit pullover and sport socks, his still-damp hair swept back from his face with his fingers, he left the bedroom in search of Casey.

  He found her in the living room. Dressed in the T-shirt and jeans she’d worn yesterday, she
sat in the big rocker with Annie in her arms. She was smiling down at the baby, and singing softly. Annie looked utterly entranced.

  Steve knew the feeling. Just looking at Casey now filled him with so much emotion he could hardly speak. He cleared his tight throat

  The sound brought Casey’s gaze to his face. A hint of color stained her cheeks, the only sign that she even remembered what had happened between them just over an hour earlier.

  “Annie wanted to get up again,” she said. “I changed her diaper, but she doesn’t seem to want a bottle yet.”

  Brusque. Efficient To the point. If she was making an effort to put them back on their previous footing, he could have told her she was wasting her time. He’d gotten too close to her now. He’d seen the fire and passion she’d been hiding. While he still admired and respected her competence, her intelligence, her unwavering determination to succeed, he’d seen the softer side of her now, as well. And he wasn’t going to let her pretend otherwise.

  He crossed the room and bent to press a lingering kiss on her lips. “Have you had anything to eat?” he asked when he reluctantly drew away.

  Visibly flustered, she shook her head. “No, I...”

  “I’ll make us some breakfast. What would you like?”

  She looked down at the baby. “Whatever you’re having will be fine.”

  He stroked a hand down her hair. It was so silky, so thick. He liked the way she wore it, long and straight to the middle of her back where it ended in a soft wave. “I love your hair,” he murmured. “The way it sways when you walk. The way it gleams in the sun. The way it looked spread on my pillow.”

  Her cheeks went a shade darker. “I—”

  He didn’t want to give her the chance to downplay what they had shared. “I’ll make breakfast,” he said, moving toward the kitchen.

  That hadn’t gone so badly, he mused, pulling eggs and bacon out of the refrigerator. She had tried to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, but he’d seen the truth in her eyes. She was as overwhelmed as he was—she was just trying not to let it show.

  She simply needed more time to get used to the idea, he decided.

  Annie was still awake by the time he had the meal ready. They strapped her in the plastic infant seat and set it on the table where she could watch them eat. For once, she seemed content not to be held. Sucking her fingers, she kicked her feet and watched them, making an occasional funny noise.

  “She hasn’t smiled yet,” Steve commented, watching the baby’s comical expressions.

  “I think she’s too young. It’s, like, a month or six weeks or so before they can consciously smile, isn’t it? She’s just absorbing all these new images and sensations now.”

  “Wonder what she thinks when she looks at us?”

  Casey made a rueful grimace. “Probably, ‘Who are these crazy people and how do I get away from them?’”

  Pleased that she’d relaxed enough to make a joke, Steve chuckled. “That’s probably exactly what she’s thinking.”

  Having eaten only part of the huge breakfast, Casey pushed her plate away, her smile fading. “She’s probably really wondering where her mother is.”

  As much as he regretted the change in mood, Steve knew it was time to get back to their most pressing problem. Once everything had been settled about Janice and Annie, then they could get back to defining their own relationship.

  “I’ll call around for Blake again right after breakfast,” he said. “I talked to someone last night who had an idea how I could contact him.”

  “If you can’t find him today, we have to call someone else—either another P.I. or the police. Someone. We can’t just keep on this way. We both have to work tomorrow, for one thing. And it can’t be good for the baby to be so unsettled.”

  “While I agree that we have to do something soon, I don’t think you should be so worried about Annie’s welfare. We’ve been taking good care of her, Casey. She’s been fed, bathed, rocked and pampered. I’d say we’re doing as well as most couples with their first baby.”

  “That analogy hardly applies here,” she said stiffly.

  Maybe not, but Steve didn’t find the idea of having children with Casey so far-fetched. Had she really never considered the possibility of a long-term, permanent relationship with him?

  Reminding himself that questions like that belonged in the to-be-addressed-later category, he said, “I’m merely pointing out that Annie’s safe for the moment. Janice is the one we should be concerned about.”

  She nodded. “I am. I hated how vulnerable I felt when I discovered I’d been followed last night I can only imagine what Janice is feeling. And until I know what these people want with her, I’ll do whatever I can to keep them from her.”

  “And so will I.” He finished the last of his breakfast and coffee while Casey restlessly cleaned the kitchen. By the time he set his dishes in the dishwasher, no evidence of their meal remained.

  “I would like to go home for a little while. I need to call my office and change into clean clothes,” she said, running a hand down her T-shirt and jeans. “Will you be okay alone with Annie for a little while?”

  “Of course, but I still don’t want you going home alone. Let me call B.J.—no,” he remembered with a scowl. “B.J.’s running the business today. He has a fairly busy schedule. Maybe I can—”

  Casey shook her head. “I don’t need an escort,” she insisted. “I’m really not afraid, Steve. It’s daylight and there are always plenty of people around my apartment on weekends. If I need to, I can scream like a banshee—or so I’ve been told. I’m not letting some jerk keep me away from my own home any longer.”

  Steve’s smile felt wry. “I don’t doubt that you are quite capable of taking care of yourself, Casey, my love. I just can’t help worrying about you a little.”

  Her cheeks flamed—probably in reaction to his using the L word, even as casually as he’d tossed it in.

  She looked quickly away, her movements flustered. “I need to find my purse and shoes,” she muttered, hurrying out of the kitchen. “I—uh—really have to go.”

  Was she really so anxious to change clothes or was she running from the intimacy they had shared? There was a shadow of panic in her eyes that he suspected had little or nothing to do with lurking strangers.

  Later, he reminded himself.

  But he would confront them eventually. And he fully intended to convince her that her fears were unjustified. He didn’t want to hurt her. He didn’t want to cause her any trouble.

  He only wanted to love her.

  9

  CARRYING ANNIE IN HER SEAT, Steve followed Casey out of the kitchen into the living room. Though she knew he was watching her, Casey avoided his eyes as she slid her feet into her shoes and snatched up her purse. She was suddenly in a hurry to leave. Her throat was tight, and her chest ached. Oddly enough, she felt like crying, something she very rarely did.

  She didn’t want to start in front of Steve.

  He set the baby carrier on the coffee table and walked with Casey to the door. “I’ll see you to your car.”

  “That really isn’t—”

  The telephone rang, cutting into her automatic rejection. “Just a second,” Steve said, moving toward the phone. “This could be important.”

  She kept one hand on the doorknob while she waited to find out.

  “Oh, hi, Madelyn,” he said a moment later. “No, we haven’t heard from Janice. Yes, the baby’s fine. We’re going to...”

  Even though she knew he would rather she wait until after he’d finished the call, Casey made a cowardly escape. She gave him a quick wave and slipped out the door, avoiding an awkward farewell or another overprotective gesture on his part.

  She hadn’t lied to him. She wasn’t afraid of going home alone at the moment. But she was terrified of facing her feelings for Steve.

  She had her hand on the door handle of her car when a man’s voice came from behind her. “Excuse me?”

  Sh
e whirled, her heart leaping into her throat. The man who had appeared out of nowhere was goldenhaired and blue-eyed, undeniably handsome, but just slightly dangerous looking. “What do you want?”

  His eyes narrowed at her belligerent tone. “I hope you can help me. I’m trying to locate...”

  Casey had enough. Three days ago, her life had been hectic, stressful, overly organized, maybe a little unsatisfying, but sane. Safe. She hadn’t been partially responsible for the welfare of a helpless infant. She hadn’t had to worry about being arrested for concealing a possible crime. She hadn’t been afraid to go home in case someone followed her or harassed her by telephone.

  And she hadn’t been in danger of having her heart broken.

  Two days of stress, worry, and sleep deprivation led to an explosion she didn’t even try to control. She shoved a finger into the chest of the man who’d had the nerve to impose on her at such an inconvenient time.

  “Look, Park or Claybrook or whoever the hell you are—I do not know where Janice Gibson is, do you understand? And even if I did know, there is nothing you could do or say that would make me tell you. I don’t appreciate being followed, harassed or interrogated by rude, obnoxious strangers and I will not tolerate it any further. If you continue to bother me, I’ll call the police, and then I’ll slap you with a lawsuit that will make your head spin.

  “Now,” she said, punctuating her words with another sharp jab to his chest, “is there any part of what I’ve just said that you don’t understand?”

  Sometime during her tirade, Steve had appeared at her side. Neither of the men tried to interrupt her until she finished. Only when she paused for air did the blond stranger look at Steve with what could only be described as amused admiration.

  “If I weren’t already happily married, I think I would have just fallen in love,” he said, his tone whimsical.

  Steve chuckled and wrapped an arm around Casey’s shoulders. “I’m crazy about her, myself.”