Hard to Hold (8 page)

Logan embraced her, intending just to comfort her. But she looked up at him, and he saw in her eyes the same emotion and inexplicable desire he'd been fighting since they'd first met.

Fuck
.

He knew it was wrong, knew he should have turned her loose and gone about his business, but he found himself drowning in that gaze.

And when she bit her lip, his blood pounded thickly in his veins, urging him to take what she was offering, taste her mouth, her skin, her body until she begged him to fuck her, to take her out of herself and give her a good screamer orgasm…

But he couldn't do that. She was the baby's nanny.

Every cell in his body hammered him to take her, but his brain overrode his hormones.

“Bella, I'm sorry. I want you but I can't do this…”

That was as far as he got. To his stunned surprise, Isabella met his mouth with her own, silencing his words, telling him that she wanted him.

Needed him to take her to heaven and back, and the consequences be damned. When her lips released his, he stepped back, his eyes narrowing.

“Are you sure?” He wanted to make damned certain he was reading her right. No way in hell was he willing to jeopardize Cinnamon's care.

She nodded, her face flushed, her lips red and swollen. When she opened her eyes, she looked like a woman who had been thoroughly kissed.

And wanted more.

“Yes,” she whispered, reaching for him, her hands slipping around his neck. “Oh, my God, yes!”

That was all he needed to hear. Logan swept her up into his arms and carried her toward his bedroom. He kicked the door open, then tossed her on the middle of his king-size bed, and turned on one of the lights.

“Don't you think—” Rising up on her elbows, she indicated the lamp.

“Hell no,” he growled, joining her on the bed. “You are too damned beautiful for the dark.”

She started to say something else, but he silenced her protest the best way he knew how: he kissed her. When she melted in his embrace, he deepened it, taking his time and exploring her mouth, his tongue meeting hers even as his hands began to explore her body. He wanted this to be good for her. Isabella was a woman in a million, and Logan was determined to use all his skills and give her a night she wouldn't soon forget…

She rose up against him as his hand found her nipple beneath her cotton tee. She shuddered when he pinched the tip, and it hardened immediately beneath his touch. Kissing her throat, he felt her pulse leaping and realized she was as excited as he. Nudging her thighs apart, he moved on top of her, inching up her shirt, his lips meeting the smooth ivory of her skin…

“Logan, I…I don't think…”

She was saying something, and it took him a full minute to realize it. Rising up on her elbows, she halted the progression of her tee and put a hand on his shoulder. He saw a conflict there, as well as desire. She started to explain when they both heard a sound from the other room.

“Waaaa!”

It was the baby. Cinnamon. Clearly they could hear the infant crying in the next room.

“She's up,” Isabella said, her voice thick with regret. “She only took half her bottle earlier, so she's probably hungry. I've got to go to her.”

“Right.” Much as he wanted to stop her, he couldn't. If Cinnamon needed food, he would be the biggest asshole in the world to deny her.

As his blood cooled, he wondered if the interruption wasn't a good thing in the long run. They both had gotten caught up in the emotion of what was happening between them, and their need for each other. But there were a thousand reasons this was a bad idea, all of which returned to him in full force. A breather would let them both think, something difficult to do when thoroughly aroused.

Yet his cock was rock hard, and his body demanded that he pull her back into his bed and make her his own. As he lay on his back, he experienced a real sense of loss as he realized the moment was gone.

Shit.

It was the right thing to do, all the way around. But he didn't have to like it.

What the hell had she been thinking?

She hadn't. That was the problem.

As Isabella fed baby Cinnamon, the fog cleared from her brain and she became incredulous at her own behavior.

She had gone from zero to ninety with just one kiss!

Embarrassment flooded through her as she became aware she'd thrown away all of her own values and had come very close to having sex with Logan.

Yet her body felt keenly alive, aching for his touch. Her blood seemed to sing through her veins, and the heat pooled there, between her legs, where she was throbbing, hot and wet for him.

Crap!

She was beginning to understand how Cinnamon's mother wound up on a one-night stand with Logan. But she was also wise enough to realize that what was happening between them wasn't just a physical thing. They were connecting emotionally now, not only because of the baby, but because of the relationship developing between them. A solid friendship was there, and if they hadn't been interrupted, they would be well on their way to becoming lovers…

She wished she could find an excuse, but there was none. Other than there was something about him, something in those incredible blue eyes and that lazy, seductive manner that promised an erotic experience she would never forget. And once she was in his arms, his mouth on hers, she could no more resist him than a fly could honey.

His unexpected kindness was the final straw.

Logan had a temper; she'd seen that already. But instead of yelling at her, or even dismissing her, all of which would have been justified, what did he do?

Pulled her into his arms to comfort her.

And that was more seductive than dozens of roses and boxes of candy.

He would be disappointed. She knew that, and told herself to be firm. She had to stick to her guns this time, had to make him understand that changing the dynamics of their relationship wasn't good for anyone involved. Even if he got angry, she'd deal with that, too. Now that she'd had some time to sort it all out, she knew it would have been a mistake to sleep with him.

Even if it meant foregoing a night of hot, erotic, passionate sex…

“I should be thanking you,” she said softly to Cinnamon as she returned to the bottle. “I think you kept me from having one of the biggest regrets in my life.”

She could swear the baby nodded in agreement.

“She's down,” Isabella announced when she returned to the bedroom.

Logan gave her a searching glance. He was wearing the bedspread, and she had to force her gaze away, wondering if he was still naked beneath it. “Good,” he responded. “I notice she's been sleeping a little later at night.”

“Yes, the schedule is working,” she said, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress beside him, feeling like she was perched on a cactus. “Soon she'll be getting up for breakfast at a decent hour.”

The silence that followed was awkward. Isabella thought of a thousand things to say, none of them right.

Logan cleared his throat and apparently decided to take matters into his own hands. “Listen, about what happened earlier. Things got a little out of hand. I get it. Neither of us was expecting that, and I think it caught us both by surprise. It would have been a mistake.”

“I'm so glad to hear you say that,” Isabella babbled in relief. “I was worried that you might think…after that kiss…that I'd still want to—”

“Nah.” Logan hastened to reassure her. “We've both had a chance to cool off. Neither one of us thought it through. It was just opportunity and timing. Let's leave it at that.”

Unreasonable anger flared through her at his casual manner
.
Was she the only one affected by what had happened between them?

All of a sudden, she had a bitter taste in her mouth, and a protective wall went up around her. “Good plan. Let's just forget this completely.”

“You agree, right?” He looked at her, obviously confused by her tone. “After all, we don't want to risk this happening again. We were both just upset.”

Isabella didn't think she could get angrier, but she did. He acted as if it meant nothing. She meant nothing.

Like Desiree.

Another woman might have slapped him, but that wasn't her style. Instead, she smiled coolly. “That's the last thing you need to worry about. I am sure I can resist you without a whole lot of effort. I don't know what I was thinking in the first place. Jocks were never my speed. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get some sleep. Your little girl has a six a.m. feeding.”

She turned on her heel and walked out.

Logan stared from the bed at the door where she'd just disappeared, stunned. Her shoes made staccato clicks on the floor as she headed to her room.

The score between them tonight was 1–0.

It wasn't often that a woman got the best of him. But Isabella just did.

What the fuck went wrong
? He thought she'd be happy that he let her off the hook so easily. But he knew when a woman was upset with him, and Isabella was pissed.

Was it because he didn't continue his seduction? He shook his head. That made no sense. Once they'd had a chance to think, there was no way in hell she would've decided that having sex with him was a good idea.

Or would she?

He thought of her face as he kissed her, her eyes half closed, her breath escaping into a little moan of desire…

His blood heated.

Part of him wanted to bring her back into his bed and fuck the consequences. A door banged shut and he had to physically restrain himself, his patience gone. It took everything he had not to prove to them both that she wanted him, that everything she said was bullshit, but for once in his screwed-up life, he was trying to be noble.

Noble, for chrissake!

Yet she acted like he'd somehow offended her. Logan paced the room. He wanted nothing more than to clear the air between them, but he reminded himself it wasn't just about them.

It was also about a baby girl sleeping in the next room.

If he went to her now, they'd both regret it, for he knew what he would do. He'd take her in his arms, silence that red mouth with a kiss, touch her, taste her, and make her want him so fucking bad she'd beg him…

He got a beer instead.

It was completely childish to slam doors; she knew that.

Isabella closed her eyes and leaned against her bedroom wall, wondering why she was all knotted up inside.

He'd done what she wanted, right? Without even making a fuss.

And that was the problem.

She had braced herself for an argument, yet he didn't seem all that concerned about it. Didn't he give a damn? And how did he so annoyingly put it, it was just
opportunity and timing?

That was it. Isabella finally understood why she was upset. For her to make love to Logan, shed her clothes and inhibitions, meant a hell of a lot more than
opportunity and timing
.

She should be grateful things went the way they did, that he didn't try to make another move on her. Yet silently she admitted she wasn't at all sure she would have been able to resist if he had, in spite of her determination to do just that.

Venturing into the bathroom, she studied the reflection in the mirror. What was wrong with her? Why was she all over the place when it came to Logan?

She'd always prided herself on her logic, her organizational skills, and her practical approach to life. It was what made her a good nanny. She didn't get caught up in kid drama, had all the patience in the world when she needed to discipline a naughty toddler, and wasn't given to romantic flings, even with seriously hot soccer players.

So what gives?

Maybe Logan was right. Maybe she had read too much into their connection and was taking it too seriously. She was upset, he sought to comfort her, and it went a little too far.

That's all.

Firmly decided, she did all the nighttime mundane things, brushed her hair and teeth, washed her face, and slipped into bed.

And tried not to think about what had almost been.

“Morning.”

“Morning.” Logan looked up from his newspaper, trying to gauge Isabella's mood, and what kind of day it might be.

“Coffee?” He gestured to the Styrofoam cup before him. “It's down in the lobby. I don't mind getting you a cup.”

“No thanks.” She scrunched her nose in distaste. “Cinnamon will be up soon. I thought I'd get the car packed now, feed her, and then get on the road.”

The frost was definitely back. Logan actually glanced at the thermostat to see if somehow the air conditioner had kicked on and dropped the room twenty degrees.

His first impulse was to confront her, shake her, and demand to know what was wrong and address it immediately. Yet something in her manner stopped him. He was returning to New Jersey with the team for practice, and then on Saturday he traveled to Kansas. He wouldn't see her much the next few days. Maybe that wasn't the worst thing in the world, to give them both some space.

“I'd better get moving.”

“You going to be okay by yourself?” He didn't like the thought of that, of her driving home with the baby all alone. Yet they both agreed it would be better for him to return with the team, to shut down the gossip. But what if something happened? What if she had an accident or the car broke down?

He also didn't like the overwhelming feeling of protectiveness that rose up inside him. He didn't like any of the feelings Isabella generated.

Shit.
But he didn't want to fucking worry all week, either.

“Why don't I order a car service?”

“I'll be fine.” She gave him an eye roll as if he was the one being ridiculous. “I've done this drive plenty of times. It's all New Jersey Turnpike. They have rest stops, patrol cars. No issue. And I should be home in less than two hours; early enough for the next feeding.”

She was all brisk efficiency once more, yet he liked the fact that she referred to his place as home, maybe more than he should.

What the fuck was going on with him? Logan wasn't the mushy sonnets-and-flowers type. He traveled too much, lived on the edge. The last thing he needed was a permanent relationship, a woman waiting for him when he came back from the road.

But something else crossed his mind as she went into the adjoining suite and began to pack. Once this was settled and if Cinnamon went back to live with her mother, there would be no professional restrictions between them, no moral or ethical barriers.

He could pursue her romantically…

He tried to shut down the thought, but it wouldn't leave him. Isabella was exactly his type: she was not only smart and beautiful, but nurturing. He saw the way she took care of the baby, putting Cinnamon's needs first. It was a lethal combination, but one that intrigued him.

But then he reminded himself about the rest, the way she could act like a fucking schoolmarm, and how she could go from hot to cold in a New Jersey minute, which, in his opinion, was even faster than New York. Her reaction to him after that kiss still burned, and he firmly decided to keep that memory front and center.

And not let her crawl into his heart.

The drive was just the thing to calm her mind.

Isabella turned up the music, glad that Logan had left his iPod in the car. It was a much quieter return trip with only Cinnamon for company, but that's exactly what she needed. Being around Logan still had her churned up, even though she'd firmly erected the professional barrier between them once more. He knew it; she saw that. Thankfully, he let it go, giving her the time and space she needed.

Yet as she pulled into the garage of his upscale condominium, she refused to admit that she missed him. Missed his company on the trip. Missed the way he challenged her.

Most of all, she missed that heated look in his eyes that she had seen just before he kissed her.

She lifted the baby seat out of the car, entered the elevator, and pressed the button for the sixth floor. She was glad to be back early; she had a lot to do. She planned to finish setting up the nursery, stock up on a few more essentials, and get the baby re-acclimated.

By the time she reached the condo, her cell was ringing. Glancing at the number, she saw it was her mother calling.

Damn. She knew what it was; whenever she took a new position, her mom always wanted to see the baby. While she understood, since a grandchild was highly unlikely, nevertheless it was hard to see her mom cooing over someone else's offspring.

Yet she didn't have the heart to deny her, either. If holding somebody else's baby would help make up for her failure to be able to conceive, it would be the height of selfishness not to share Cinnamon with her mother.

“Yes, Mom.” She returned the call after putting the baby down.

“I thought you'd fallen off the face of the earth!” her mother said meaningfully.

“Just busy,” she replied, avoiding the guilt. “There is so much to do here. Logan wasn't at all set up for a baby. I had to start from scratch.”

“Logan?”

“The baby's father,” she continued. “He's a soccer player for the New Jersey Hurricanes.”

“I thought I saw something about him on Facebook,” her mother said. “Something about a secret baby?”

Isabella flinched. “Yeah, that was sort of my fault. I brought Cinnamon to his game. I heard his teammates had figured it out; didn't know about social media.”

“Well, it's not exactly the kind of thing that you can keep under wraps.”

“He wasn't even aware she existed until a few weeks ago.” For whatever reason, she felt compelled to defend Logan. “He and the mother are going to court to establish paternity in a couple of weeks. I think it's hard for him to accept that the child is his until all of that is decided.”

“So depending on how things turn out, you might be out of a job again?”

“I'm not worried about that. Patty always has more than enough work.”

“I see.” Her mother sighed. “I guess there isn't much point in me stopping by to see her until everything is settled?”

“It probably does make sense to wait,” Isabella said practically.

“Okay,” her mother said in resignation, and she could hear the disappointment in her voice. Wistfully, she continued. “Is she cute?”

She laughed at that. Could her mom make it any more plain she was dying to see her? Reluctantly, she relented. “Yes. Tell you what. Why don't you come for lunch Sunday?”

“That would be perfect.” The excitement picked up in her voice immediately. “Your father is out of town for a sales meeting. Can I bring anything?”

“No. Just yourself. I'll see you later.”

She hung up the phone, glad that she'd managed to make someone's day. Company wasn't a bad idea. She could use the distraction. And Cinnamon would love the attention.

It would be a win all around. And she'd make herself see it that way.

The place was oddly quiet.

Logan checked into his room after the game a few days later and found the typical bed, desk, chair, and TV. It was a striking difference from New York when he'd shared the hotel with Isabella and the baby. Having them there changed everything. It was as if…he had a family.

But that was ridiculous, he reminded himself, dismissing the thought. Tossing his keys on the countertop, he thought about going out with the guys, throwing back a few beers, and forgetting everything for a night. But he wasn't up for it. Even though they had beaten Kansas 1–0, the media singled him out in the postgame news conference, suggesting the score could have been 2–0 if he had been more focused.

His lack of play had put a lot of pressure on their goalkeeper. Erik Blake's eight saves kept the opposing team off the board, but they never should've had so many opportunities to score. A couple of the key defenders played well, but Logan had missed a pass that could have resulted in another point.

So he could go out on his own or stay in the hotel. There were several nice bars near him; he remembered that from the last trip. He thought about that woman who had propositioned him in New York. Maybe he could meet someone to join him for a drink and maybe a few laughs.

But that option wasn't appealing, either. Logan felt like his life was in fucking limbo, and he couldn't move forward in any direction until one big thing was settled for him: Cinnamon.

As he got a beer from the minibar, he found himself wishing Isabella and the baby were still there. He liked the mornings, when the baby was fed and then played quietly in her bed. Soon she would be crawling, and he grinned as he pictured Bella chasing Cinnamon all over the condo. But somehow he knew she'd have a plan, and she'd handle every phase of growing up with the same ease and confidence that she did the infant months.

Taking another pull of the beer, he turned on the game. He didn't like the way his thoughts were heading, or his emotions. After the court hearing, he reminded himself, this would all be over. The baby would be back with her mother, and Isabella would be gone.

His stomach lurched at the thought.