“No, sweet angel,” he muttered under his breath, “you’re not even close to being broken.”
At seven-thirty, Amber appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. Paul felt her presence as soon as she arrived, but continued to stir the pot without acknowledging her. Out the corner of his eye, he watched as his normally easy-tempered son began to squirm and wiggle in his walker.
Joachim became frustrated with his inability to make the walker go where he wanted. He began bouncing up and down and whimpering in earnest, his short chubby arms reaching for Amber.
Amber crossed the room and picked up the baby and he settled down, having gotten what he wanted. He tugged at a lock of long, golden brown hair that had come loose, and chatted in baby gibberish. It was obvious he’d missed his new friend and wanted to fill her in on the hours they’d been apart.
Paul glanced over his shoulder at the pair. “You’re spoiling him.”
“It’s the other way around. I can’t remember the last time any man greeted me with this much honest enthusiasm.”
Paul smiled to himself and continued to stir the pot. “The chili is not quite ready, but there are dishes in the sink…if you want to get started now.”
“No thanks, I’ll wait.” She gave him a smug smile as she passed by the stove and headed toward the dinner table. Amber sat down and began playing with the baby on her lap. She glanced around the large kitchen.
The room was large enough to fit thirty people comfortably. The walls were all covered in lacquered wood overlay and, combined with the stainless-steel appliances and the redbrick tiled floor, the effect was stunning. “Your friend has a nice house. What does he do for a living?”
Paul’s mouth twisted. “Why do you ask?”
She shrugged. “Just wondering.”
Satisfied that the chili was coming along okay, Paul wiped his hands on a nearby dishtowel. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned a hip against the counter. “Can I ask you something?”
Amber shrugged, her attention focused on the laughing baby in her arms.
“How did you end up in L.A. with someone like Dashuan Kennedy?”
She glanced at his face, then looked away. “I thought Luther would’ve filled you in.”
“No, he was too concerned with your safety to worry about details.”
“So, now you want all the gory details?”
Paul stood straight and began to put away his seasonings and spices. “Look, it’s your business, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay.”
“No…it’s no big deal. Hell, thanks to Dashuan’s entourage, most of Detroit probably already knows the story, anyway.”
She crossed the room and put the baby down in the playpen. Joachim started to protest, until he realized all his toys surrounded him. He rolled over on his tummy, and then up on his knees like a pro, crawling toward his favorite.
Amber wrapped her arms around her body and walked to the large window that looked out on the night, framing the mountains silhouetted in the background.
Paul just stood watching her, giving her time to decide if she wanted to share what was obviously an embarrassing memory.
“My sister Opal works for the Chargers owner D’marcus Armstrong. He gives me tickets to the games. The seats are so close to the team I could smell their sweat.”
Paul’s eyes widened at the blatant sexual expression on her face. He was beginning to understand what Luther meant about a wild child.
Amber glanced over at Paul and cleared her throat. “Anyway, Dashuan and I noticed each other right away, but he was so focused on the game, and I could respect that so we didn’t say anything to one another. Until about three weeks ago, after the game Dashuan invited me and my friends to an after party.”
Paul stirred the chili once more before turning the burner off. “I’m assuming you went.”
“Well, me and my girlfriends went to the party, but not long after we got there we all got separated, and Dashuan was nowhere to be found.” She nodded. “But the party was jumping. You name it, some of everybody was there. They had this live reggae band that was phenomenal, and the food…” She closed her eyes as if drifting away to a better place. “Delicious.”
Paul smiled as he watched her blissful expression. “I take it you had a good time.”
“Wonderful.” Her smile faded.
“What’s wrong?” Paul asked, pouring chili into a bowl.
“There were things about that night that just didn’t click, if you know what I mean. But now, knowing what I know, everything is clicking into place.”
Paul put the two bowls on the table and pulled a box of crackers out of a nearby cabinet. “Like what?”
“Like the first time I saw Dashuan all night was several hours after we arrived, and he was coming from the direction of the pool house…with Kelvin.”
“Oh.” Paul didn’t know what else to say. He pulled a chair away from the table and stood behind it with a hand extended toward Amber.
She smiled, before coming to take the seat. “What a gentleman,” she said continuing to smile up at him.
“Thank you.” Paul returned the smile. “But you’re still washing dishes.”
She made a face, and stuck out her tongue, before scooting her chair closer to the table.
He grinned in return. Despite her spoiled-princess persona, Amber Lockhart was a fighter, Paul decided.
“Hey, this chili is pretty good,” she said, having swallowed her first spoonful.
“Thanks.”
“I have to admit, I’m a little impressed.”
“Don’t be too impressed. Chili is all I do.”
“Hmm…a man who does not know how to cook for himself means that you are either an only child or the only male in a family full of women.”
“Neither.” Paul’s whole demeanor changed as his body tensed.
Amber sensed that this was not a subject she should pursue. So, she chose something she thought would be easier. “Where is Joachim’s mother?”
Paul froze with the spoon of chili halfway to his mouth. He lowered his eyes, and despite the tension permeating the dinner table, Amber could not help admiring his lush black lashes. The man really was sinfully gorgeous—everything from his chiseled features to his muscular frame.
Amber found she was more curious than she should’ve been for the answer to the last question. She had to know what woman would leave him alone to care for a stranger in the home of a friend. Looking at it, the whole situation stretched the imagination.
As if released from a spell, Paul took a spoonful. “She’s dead.”
Amber fought the urge to cover her mouth in horror. When will I learn to keep my big mouth shut? “Oh, Paul, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“You never did finish telling me about how you met Dashuan.”
Paul changed the subject, and Amber found that she was grateful for the conversational shift.
“Well, Dashuan and I spent an hour or so talking that night, then I had to get going home, because I had an exam the next day. When I got ready to leave, I found out my friends had left without me. Dashuan was nice enough to offer me a ride home. After that, we started going out once or twice a week.” She shrugged and toyed with her chili, twirling it around her spoon. “A couple of nights ago, he called and asked if I wanted to come to L.A. with him, and here I am.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“Hmm.” Paul’s thick, dark eyebrows crinkled.
“What?” She glanced at his face.
“Nothing. It’s just—No offense, but if he wasn’t interested in you—”
“Why invite me in the first place? Believe me, I’ve been asking myself that question all day. I hate to admit it, but Pearl tried to warn me about him.”
“Who’s Pearl?”
“My sister.” She smiled. “I have three. There’s Ruby, she’s the oldest, and Opal and then Pearl. Sometimes I think she’s the only one who gets me.”
&
nbsp; Paul was certain he could hear a little sadness in her voice. Were her sisters the reason she didn’t want to go home? “Have you decided what’s next?”
“Not really.” She glanced at his face and looked away, wondering if that was his less than subtle way of telling her not to overstay her welcome. “Where’s your friend?”
“What friend?”
“The one you’re house-sitting for.”
Paul choked.
“Are you okay?”
He nodded, wiping his mouth with a paper napkin. “I’m fine. He’s away on business.”
Amber looked around the kitchen. “Must be some business to afford a place like this. When will he be back?”
Paul’s eyes narrowed on her face, wondering if she was deciding to set her sights on his wealthy friend. “Why do you ask?”
She shrugged. “Just wondering how long we could stay here.”
“Indefinitely. Now eat up. Those dishes are not going to wash themselves, you know.”
She frowned, but it was more like a pout. “Tyrant.”
The tyrant across the table just smiled in response.
Chapter 7
Amber felt her heart pounding against her chest, as a warm, masculine hand slid across her calf. She held her eyes closed. She did not need to see his face to know who it was. The large hand crept up her leg, gliding over her outer thigh, moving toward the inside, toward that place that begged to be touched.
Her legs fell apart, and her knees bent as her body shaped itself around the intruder. Her arms lifted, and as she knew they would, they landed on hard, muscular shoulders. She let out a deep sigh of relief, as his heavy weight settled on top of her.
Wrapping her legs around his slender hips, she felt his warm breath on her face. “Kiss me,” she begged, lifting her lips to his, but the kiss never came. She knew he was still there, she could feel his throbbing penis against her stomach. He wanted her almost as much as she wanted him. “Please, Paul, kiss me.”
Unable to bear the agony any longer, she opened her eyes, and they widened in surprise and horror to realize she was staring up into the sneering face of Dashuan Kennedy. Amber pushed with all her strength, and felt a sharp sting of pain as her bottom landed on the carpeted floor.
She glanced around, desperately trying to get her bearings, then covered her face in relief to discover she was alone in the dark guestroom. It was a dream. No, a nightmare.
Looking down at her body, she realized she’d somehow gotten wrapped in the bed linen and was now sitting mummified on the floor. She managed to disentangle herself and get to her feet.
Her mind was still trying to come to grips with the bizarre images when she heard another noise. She glanced at the glow-in-the-dark clock on the nightstand and realized it was two in the morning.
She stumbled out into the hallway and listened again. The noise was coming from the kitchen. She wiped at her eyes and wandered down the stairs, wondering what Paul would be doing up at such an hour.
As she rounded the corner and came into the kitchen, she covered her face when the bright lights hit her in the eyes. She could see a blurry outline standing with his back to her, near the stove. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Sorry, to disturb you,” Paul answered. “I was just fixing Joachim’s formu—”
Amber jumped at the loud clatter of the pot being dropped. She shielded her eyes from the light in a desperate attempt to see what was going on. “What was that?”
What she saw was Paul standing in the middle of the room, a spilled pot of milk at his feet. He was staring at her with his mouth hanging open, and a look in his eyes that Amber knew too well.
As things began to come into focus, so did her thoughts. That was when it occurred to her what she was wearing. The only thing she had to sleep in—the slinky negligee she’d bought for her special night with Dashuan.
She let out a strangled screech and attempted to cover herself with her hands. Her own mortification and anger found a misplaced outlet in Paul. “What the hell are you staring at?”
Paul never took his eyes away from her. “Perfection.”
Embarrassed beyond belief, Amber turned and rushed back up the stairs. She slammed the bedroom door shut and threw herself across the bed.
She pounded the pillow with both hands. In truth, she couldn’t explain the intense feeling of humiliation. After all, it wasn’t as if she was naked—okay, not exactly like she was naked. And it was not as if she had never been naked, or almost naked in the presence of a man before. It was just…why this man?
This man who already knew far too many humiliating things about her. It just seemed so unfair that he got to keep his dignity while hers was being stripped away piece by piece.
At a hard knock on the door, Amber shot straight up on the bed. “Go away!” She waited for the apology that was certain to come, which explained why her eyes widened when he threw open the door and stormed in without any warning.
Paul stopped a few inches from the bed, his roving eyes picking up right where they left off.
Amber was in no mood to provide a peep show. She crawled under the covers, pulling them up to her neck. “I said go away!”
“Why are you so mad at me? I’m not the one scampering through the house in my birthday suit. And by the way, if you wanted to get my attention all you had to do was ask!”
Her eyes widened in indignation. “What!”
“You heard me!” A wicked sneer twisted his pretty mouth. “I understand a woman like you needs attention, and I would be more than happy to provide you with some.”
“A woman like me? What’s that supposed to mean?” Angered beyond reason, she shot up on her knees in the bed, letting the covers fall to her waist.
His dark eyes raked over her form once more before returning to her face. “Some women get lonely faster than others.”
“I’ll never be that lonely. Now get out!”
His dark eyes narrowed, and Amber could feel the anger radiating off him. He turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
Paul gripped the balcony railing, bracing his heavy weight against it while he waited for his blood to stop pounding and his temper to cool. His strong hands balled into fists. She had done it on purpose. Flaunting her beautiful body in his face like he was made of steel.
His lips thinned. I could show her what steel feels like. His eyes widened, shocked by his own crude thoughts. He ran a trembling hand through his curly hair, trying to steady his nerves. Whether she’d deliberately come into the kitchen wearing barely nothing, Paul could not deny one thing. She was incredible, perfectly made, as if she were formed from his most secret dreams. And he wanted her more than he’d wanted a woman in a long time.
From the moment he took her out of that hotel in L.A., Paul had known this could happen if he did not keep his guard up. But how could any man possibly keep his guard up when she was strutting around in that outfit?
Just then, he heard Joachim whimpering as he began to wake up for his late-night feeding. In short time that whimper would become a full-fledged cry, and the only thing he had to offer was a pot of spilled formula.
His thoughts still scrambled, Paul debated between going to the baby and rushing downstairs to clean up the mess and prepare a new bottle. He decided there was no reason to go into the nursery empty-handed. So, he hurried down the stairs. Just as he entered the kitchen, Joachim let go of a howl that brought the hairs up on the back of his neck.
Amber lay on the bed listening to the baby cry, certain that his father would be there to stop the mournful pleas. But as the seconds ticked by, Joachim continued to wail at the top of his lungs.
Unable to bear the heartbreaking noise, Amber slipped off the bed, taking the time to slip into the slacks and blouse she’d worn for the past two days now. She went down the hall to the nursery.
When she entered the room, Joachim was attempting to stand on the side of the crib, but because he had not yet mastered ba
lance, his little legs kept giving way and he kept landing back on his diapered bottom, which added to the frustration of his empty stomach.
She crossed the room, and when he spotted her, his chubby arms reached forward, grasping at air. Amber scooped him up in her arms, pressing him against her chest. “Shh, little one, shhh. It’s okay, Daddy’s coming.”
Just happy to have someone acknowledging his plight, Joachim seemed to settle down at the soft cooing, although he continued to cry in earnest hunger.
Amber rocked him back and forth, hoping that Paul was on the way with a bottle. Then she remembered the pot of spilled milk on the kitchen floor, and knew what was taking so long. She was still deciding if she was brave enough to face him in the kitchen once again, when he appeared at the nursery door with a bottle.
When Joachim spotted the bottle, he practically jumped out of Amber’s arms reaching for his father. Amber handed the baby over without a word, and stood watching as Paul settled down in the rocking chair to feed his son.
“Sorry I took so long, little man.” Paul apologized to the baby, but Amber couldn’t help feeling as if the apology was for her.
Joachim wasn’t interested in any apologies, as he settled in the crook of his father’s arm, sucking on the bottle. After four or five huge gulps, he took a deep, fortifying breath, and then continued drinking at a slower rate.
Amber stood in the middle of the room for several awkward seconds before it became apparent that Paul was not going to say anything to her. She turned and headed toward the door, wondering if she should attempt to find somewhere else to stay. She was almost to the door when she heard Paul speak.
“I appreciate you putting on some clothes in front of my son, but you don’t have to be so formal.”
Amber turned, fire blazing in her eyes. She’d had just about all the smart remarks she could stand. “Unfortunately, I do have to be formal. If you’ll remember when you found me at the hotel I was leaving in somewhat of a hurry and forgot my suitcases!”
His Holiday Bride Page 6