Bargaining for Baby (7 page)

He stole another light, lingering kiss from the side of her mouth before his lips skimmed her jaw. “See what I mean about that full moon?”

His hand slid down her spine to circle the sensitive dip low in her back and the urge to coil her fingers up through his hair and mold herself against him became overpowering. Every labored breath compounded the desire building in her blood. Every thought confirmed that this felt way too good to let go.

How a bit of common sense survived the fire ripping through her veins, Maddy couldn’t say. She didn’t want to listen to reason. She only wanted to know his kiss again and again. And yet the danger…the
dishonesty
of this situation was as apparent as the aching desire. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t ignore the harm this kind of scene could and would do.

Finding her strength and her breath, she angled her head away. “This isn’t right.”

With a knuckle, he coaxed her mouth back to his. “This is
very
right.”

When he drew her bottom lip into his mouth and the shaft behind his zipper flexed against her belly, her resolve slipped like hot wax spilling down a candle. The urge to give in was so sweet and so strong…but she couldn’t ignore what was most important.

She pushed against his sturdy chest. “Jack, what about Tara?”

They needed to keep this complicated time as uncomplicated as they could. Yes, she was physically drawn to Jack—she’d like to meet a woman who wouldn’t
be. But a kiss would lead to more—to dark heady places she wasn’t prepared to go. She wanted some kind of future with Beau. The last thing she needed was an ill-planned night hanging over her head and a stepmother who would then have good reason for suspicion.

He’d been so intense, so driven, she half expected him to ignore the obvious question. But he surprised her. Comprehension dawned in his eyes. His head pulled slowly back and his gaze searched hers as if he were coming out of a daze. When the horse whinnied again, he took a step away and his previously insistent palm left her back. His hand found the V at his opened collar and his gaze speared through her, as though he were seeing someone else.

His deep voice rumbled through the shadows.

“You should go inside.”

A shiver chased up her spine. His face looked changed…almost vulnerable. Gingerly, she touched his strong hot arm but his intense expression didn’t change.

He said again, “You should go.”

Then he wove around her toward the stable.

Later, as she lay awake in bed staring at the ceiling, she heard the retreating beat of hooves. Still glowing from the feel of him, still buzzing from the high, she rolled over and lightly touched her lips.

She thought she’d been kissed before. Thought she knew what desire was…how it felt to be on fire.

She’d been wrong.

T
he next morning, Jack drove into Hawksborough, a town that pretty much consisted of a main street lined with Leopard trees, a federation-style library, town hall and courthouse, and a series of fading shop fronts which led to the Shangri-la Motel.

Parked in front of Bruce’s Barber’s, a residence which co-let to Hawsborough’s only bank, Jack swung out of the driver’s side of his four-wheel drive and absorbed the town’s aura of timelessness. Sue had loved this place almost as much as she’d loved the station. If he ever came in, Sue would, too, to catch up with the locals then veg out in the town square, working her way through one of her tomes. Sue had been as laid back as supper on Sundays.

Sophisticated Madison Tyler, on the other hand, fit in more with canapés and cocktails at five. She would find Hawksborough’s sole set of traffic lights and single movie theater gauche. Possibly unsettling. Maddy cared about
what happened to Dahlia’s baby—he respected her for that—but as soon as her job here was done she’d be gone, back to the city and “civilization”. Thirteen more days. And nights.

As he removed his hat and crossed into the Shangri-la foyer, Jack knew he could fool himself and say he understood why he’d cast off proper conduct last night: he’d wanted to sample an intriguing wine, just a taste. He’d kissed Maddy. Had enjoyed the act immensely. Curiosity supposedly done and dusted. Trouble was, while all this rationalizing had been taking place, he’d forgotten about Tara. About the commitment he’d made to her. And that just wasn’t him.

That Maddy was so different from Sue, from Tara—from any woman he’d known—might be a reason for his behavior but it wasn’t an excuse. He felt off-center around her. Couldn’t seem to shake her from his thoughts. At four this morning he’d finally figured out what needed to be done and how he should do it.

Now he strode up to Mrs. Claudia, the friendly gray-haired receptionist he’d known all his life. She slid the
Life
crossword to one side of the mahogany desk and they exchanged pleasantries about her aging canary and the lack of rain. Then he dialed up to the room Tara took whenever she stayed in town.

When she picked up on the second ring, Jack braced his shoulders. “Tara, I need to see you.”

There was a moment’s pause before a sigh came down the line. “Jack, it’s you. Thank God. Come up.”

From her thready tone, something wasn’t right in her world. He could guess what. But as he set off for the vintage elevator, Jack knew he couldn’t let any bad news delay his own.

When Tara opened her door, her hair was as glossy as
usual but her eyes didn’t hold their normal fire. She lifted a large envelope and gave a jaded smile.

“Hendrix’s X-rays. There’s a small cyst on his hock. In my opinion, and the vet’s, nothing to worry about.” She flung the envelope on the TV stand. “But the buyer wants a cut in price.”

“Three hundred G’s is a lot for a horse,” he said, hanging his hat on the hatstand.

“Not for a brilliant jumper.” Then her dark eyes softened and an inviting smile curved her lips. “But let’s not talk about that.”

She took his hand and led him toward the bed. Jack kept his eyes straight ahead but even a blind man couldn’t miss her attire: a short, pale pink silk wrap. From the outline, she was naked underneath.

She drew him toward the foot of the unmade bed. Positioning herself close, she wove her hands up his shirt front then, closing her eyes, she reached on tiptoe to rub her nose with his.

“It’s so good to see you.” Her fingers flexed in his shirt as she murmured, “Will I order up some breakfast?”

“I’ve eaten.”

She opened her eyes at his tone and angled her head. “I need to apologize for the way I acted yesterday. But, you have to understand, I was taken aback. The last thing I expected to see was a baby—” she lowered to sit on the rumpled sheet “—or another woman.” Twining her fingers with his, she urged him to sit beside her. “But I should’ve shown more control. You’re right. We need to speak about this in private.” She pivoted toward him, her wrap slipped but she didn’t cover her thigh. “How do you feel about raising Dahlia’s son?”

He set his jaw. “Committed.”

“There is one big positive.”

“You mean besides giving my nephew a home.”

“Of course that baby deserves a home.” Her touch filed over his thigh and settled on his leg. “And now there’s no reason why
we
shouldn’t start a family. I understand how you feel about losing your own. Jack, I can’t imagine how much that must hurt, even now. But being given this baby is like being given another chance. We could give that little boy a brother or two.” Her hand squeezed. “A real family, for us all.”

He pushed to his feet and her hand fell away. “We need to talk.”

“If you’re worried about inheritance—that I might be biased toward the children we have together—I’m more than fine with all the children having equal shares…”

“I can’t marry you.”

She recoiled as if bitten by a snake. Her slender throat worked up and down as moisture welled in her eyes. His gut twisted around a heavy knot of guilt. There’d been no easy way to say it. But the admission had sounded blunt even to his ears.

“You can’t marry…” She carefully unfolded to her feet. “We’ve discussed this. Gone through it.” She stepped closer and a note of desperation lifted her voice. “What about the land?”

“I don’t
care
about the land.”

He cursed under his breath and scrubbed his brow.

Of course he cared, but…

Decided, he met her gaze. “I can’t think about that now.”

“It’s that woman, isn’t it?” Her slim nostrils flared. “How long have you known her?”

He told her the truth. “I met Maddy the same day I learned about Dahlia.”

“Then she’s a quick worker, getting you to agree to have her stay here.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

Tara might have more reason than she knew to be jealous but it hadn’t started out that way. Maddy hadn’t set a trap to ensnare an eligible bachelor. She’d made a vow and had come to Leadeebrook when she would rather not have. Her loyalty to his sister, her indignation toward him, hadn’t been an act.

Neither was the passion he’d felt break free when he’d held her last night. His palms had itched to shape over her curves. Conscience hadn’t been an issue. The primal need to know every inch of her had overshadowed everything.

Tara was imploring him with her eyes.

“Tell me nothing’s going on, Jack. Tell me and I’ll believe you. You’ve made mistakes before.” The passionate look wavered. “You don’t want to make another one.”

His eyes narrowed. He’d forget she said that.

“Tara, you and I are friends. I’ll always think of you as a friend.”

“Friendship can turn into love.” She held his jaw and hitched up to slip her lips over his. “It did for me.”

He found her hand and held it between both of his. “It’s better this way.”

He’d married once. He should have known that would do him a lifetime. The ring he wore around his neck would always live there.

But as he threw his hat back on and left the motel a few minutes later, he reminded himself that physical intimacy was another matter. No license was required to satisfy sexual needs. Needs every man had. Natural, instinctive. In this instance, fierce.

The chemistry was right between Maddy and him.
Yesterday under the stars, it had been near uncontainable. Whether this fever was due to the upheaval of emotion these past days—the lasting bond he and Maddy had shared with Dahlia—he couldn’t say. All he knew with absolute certainty was he’d been attracted to Madison Tyler from the start. The attraction had grown to a point where, no matter what excuse he made, he couldn’t deny it.

He wanted her in his bed.

The primal urge was a force unto itself, demanding release, stoking his mind like a stick at a fire every other minute of the day. He’d never felt this intensely about a woman, not even Sue. He’d never gone there with Tara, neither in mind nor in body.

After the way Maddy had held onto him in the moonlight, her fingers twisting in his shirt, her mouth opening under his, inviting and welcoming him in…

Inhaling, he slipped into his vehicle, ignited the engine and pulled away from the curb.

It was foregone. Maddy felt the same way. She wanted what he wanted. Before the week was through, he would convince her they should take it.

Call back. Urgent re Pompadour account.

Biting her lip, Maddy shifted her gaze from the text message to baby Beau lying, happy and energetic, on a nearby blanket.

Beau had had his lunchtime bottle but had been too restless to go down. She’d done some research; babies’ routines changed all the time—teething problems, going to solids, natural decline in naps—all shook up what might seem like a set schedule. Rather than fight the tide, she’d spread a blanket out beneath the sprawling umbrella of
a Poinciana tree and for the past twenty minutes had watched him kick and coo to his heart’s content.

Although everyone back home knew she was unavailable, out of habit she’d brought along her BlackBerry. While her father had been frosty about her request for this unscheduled break, he wouldn’t have left that message without good reason.

Maddy set the phone against her chin as her stomach flipped over.

Urgent…

Had Pompadour Shoes pulled the plug without having seen the campaign? Had another agency stolen their business? Or worse…had her father’s disappointment turned to action? Had he replaced her on the account?

Her thumb was poised over Redial when Nell appeared out of nowhere and sat herself down a few feet away. Maddy’s blood pressure climbed and she reached for Beau who, unconcerned, gnawed on a length of his rattle. But Nell’s attention was elsewhere…fixed on the hazy distance, her ears perked high.

Maddy breathed—slowly in, calmly out.

If the dog wanted to sit around, okay. She didn’t have dibs on this square of lawn, as long as Nell didn’t get any ideas about wanting to socialize. But when Beau began to grumble, Nell trotted over and the hairs on the back of Maddy’s neck stood up straight. Thankfully the collie didn’t stop and soon Maddy knew why. The sound of an engine. The same sound she’d heard leaving the property early that morning.

Jack was home.

Maddy’s heart began to thud. How would he tackle the subject of last night? Maybe he wouldn’t bring up that kiss at all, which was fine by her. During the hours before dawn, she’d reflected enough on the blissful way his
mouth had worked over hers. Useless thoughts had wound a never-ending loop in her mind, like what if Cait had discovered them? Where would it have led if she hadn’t pulled away?

Maddy shuddered. The fallout didn’t bear considering. If not another word was mentioned about that accident, she’d be happy. Surely Jack—a man considering marriage—felt the same way. As far as she was concerned, that caress never happened.

Nell belted a path out into the open space and a few moments later reappeared, ushering in the late model four-wheel drive. The vehicle braked and when the door opened, Maddy’s limbs turned to jelly. Setting his Akubra in place, Jack angled out, looking taller and more formidable than she remembered.

Everything about him spoke of confidence and ability. Raw outback masculinity and pride. Good thing he
was
practically engaged or she might forget her resolve about last night’s embarrassment and launch herself at him.

He made a motion. Nell rolled over and he rubbed her belly with the toe of his big boot. Patting her damp palms on her khaki pants, Maddy pasted on a nondescript smile. When Jack’s gaze tracked her down, she gave a business-as-usual salute. He acknowledged her with a short nod and headed over. With each long, measured stride, her heart beat more wildly. She looked at those strong, large hands and felt them kneading her nape, pressing meaningfully on her back. She saw the shadow on his jaw and relived the delicious graze against her cheek, around her lips.

The next thirteen days would be tantamount to torture—not wanting to say goodbye to Beau, yet having to get back to Sydney. Needing to leave the memory of that kiss behind yet craving to know the sensation again. Talk about chronic inner turmoil.

Jack hunkered down beside the baby, his boots dusty and blue jeans stretched at the knee. When Beau’s rattle slipped from his tiny grasp, Jack picked it up and shook the plastic keys until Beau grabbed and stuck one back in his mouth.

A side of Jack’s mouth hiked up. “Guess he’s hungry.”

“He’s had lunch. I think he’s ready to be put down.”

Jack tickled Beau’s tummy and, enjoying it, the baby squawked and threw the keys down. Jack chuckled softly. “He looks like Dahlia. Same cheeky grin.” Maddy smiled.
Cheeky grins must run in the family.
Whenever Jack smiled at her that certain way, whenever his gaze dipped to stroke her lips, she could dissolve into a puddle, no problem at all. Guess he’d worked that out last night.

Cait called from the top of the stairs. “Want some lunch, Jock?”

Still on haunches, he swiveled around on the toes of his boots. “I’ll get something later.”

Cait nodded. “Can I put the bairn down for you, Maddy?”

“I can do it,” Maddy called back.

But Cait was already on her way. “You can indeed. But he hasn’t been out of your sight since seven this morning.”

Jack scooped the baby up and gave him a little bounce in the air before handing him up to Cait.

Beaming, Cait brought him close. “Now it’s my turn for a wee cuddle.”

Beau looked so at home in Cait’s arms, Maddy had no reason to cut in…except, after Cait and Beau’s departure, she and Jack would be left completely alone. The idea set her pulse hammering all the more.

As Cait and the baby vanished back into the house,
Maddy gathered her highly-strung nerves. She’d simply have to deal with this situation in an adult-like manner. She’d offer a sentence or two while keeping communication friendly but unquestionably aboveboard. Then, after a reasonably short amount of time, she could follow Cait inside. Distance, and safety from possible humiliation and regret, accomplished.