by Lori Foster
“Sure thing. See ya then.”
Sam hung up, and Gil knew he’d come up with some good excuse for the phone call. Sam worked undercover—he was great with lying. With that worry now in Sam’s capable hands, Gil faced Anabel.
Keeping her back to him, Anabel wrapped her arms around herself. “How will you get to your house if you don’t take your car?”
“I’m going to drive yours.”
She jerked around. “Mine?”
There were no tears in her eyes, thank God. In fact, that unwavering resolution still remained, contradicting the slump of her narrow shoulders.
Gil caught her wrist. She was fine-boned, soft. “You just offered to sell yourself to me, Anabel. I’d say that makes you pretty desperate. No way in hell am I letting you out of my sight with my daughter.”
A second ticked by, then two and three. She drew a shaky breath and looked at his hand on her wrist. “I offered to marry you.”
“In exchange for raunchy sex.”
Her gaze swept up, clashing with his. She half laughed, from surprise or disbelief, he wasn’t sure. “Raunchy, sweet, hot and fast or slow and easy.” She shook her head. “I’ve wanted you since I first met you. Something about you draws me, something dark and impossible to ignore. I go to sleep every night thinking about you inside me.”
Gil closed his eyes, wishing like hell that she’d shut up, that she didn’t seem so determined to turn him inside out.
Her free hand touched his jaw. “I didn’t offer to have sex with you as a trade to keep Nicole. I was just trying to show you how compatible we’d be. Marriage or no marriage, I’d still want you. I’m starting to think I always will.”
Sincerity rang in her tone, once again knocking Gil off-kilter. “I don’t fucking believe this.”
She smiled. “You should know that Nicki repeats everything she hears. Good thing she’s sleeping through this, huh?”
Gil let her wrist drop to tunnel both hands through his hair.
“I know it’s a lot to take in, Gil. First Nicole and now me. Even if you decide against marrying me, I’d still like to have you.”
Have me? Speechless, Gil could only stare at her. He couldn’t imagine a woman more outrageous than her. And damn it, it made him want her more.
“But…before you completely reject the idea of marriage, will you at least give me a trial run?”
“A…?”
“Trial run.” She nodded. “I could take care of your daughter while you’re at work, and then take care of you at night, in bed.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t think I want to hear this.” He was still hard, getting more so with every insanely sexual thing she muttered.
Her words rushed out in her attempt to convince him. “I’m sorry I have to push you like this, but we only have a few days to decide. I’m hoping that if you enjoy sex with me—”
He would. He knew it down deep in his bones. He’d known it for three years, which was why he hated being around her.
“—then maybe the idea of marriage to me won’t be so repellent. Maybe you’ll see that Nicki loves me and is happier with me around. Maybe you’ll even see that you like me well enough to keep me.”
With very little effort, she drove him over the edge. “You make yourself sound like a stray dog.”
“I want you. I want Nicki. I’m a woman trying to have it all.”
He began to feel desperate. “I don’t love you, Anabel. Doesn’t that matter?”
World-weary cynicism shadowed her smile. “In my position, I can’t let it matter.”
Something she’d said struck him, making Gil frown. “You mentioned that we only had a few days to decide. To decide what? And why the time limit?”
She chewed her bottom lip, then went to the diaper bag and dug through it until she found a small diary. “I don’t expect you to take my word for it. I mean, you don’t even like me, so why believe anything I have to say?”
“I never said I didn’t like you.” It was her effect on him, the feelings she drew from him with a mere look, that he didn’t like.
“Shelly told me.” She said that with far too much acceptance.
“Then she lied. We never even discussed you.”
“Really?” Her brows lifted. “Why would she?”
“I have no idea.” He accepted the book she handed to him. “What is this?”
She swallowed hard, leveled her shoulders and her gaze. “Shelly’s parents want custody of Nicole.”
His jaw locked. Over his dead body.
“They’re not warm people, Gil,” she added in a rush. “They’ve never paid any attention to Nicki. Whenever they were in the same room with her, they ignored her.”
Glancing at his daughter, he found that hard to believe. Who could look at her and not fall instantly in love?
“They wanted Shelly to give her up.”
“What?” Gil felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. If that was true, then he might not ever have known about Nicki. That thought was too awful to contemplate.
“Even when Shelly brought her home from the hospital, they refused to get close to her in the hopes that one day she’d change her mind and put Nicki up for adoption. They thought of her as a…a blot on their good name. They talked about her like she was nothing more than a mistake.”
On several occasions, he’d spoken with Shelly’s parents. Not in depth, just superficial pleasantries common to business introductions. They’d seemed average enough to him. But they hadn’t cared about their own grandchild?
Anabel touched his arm. “It’s all in Shelly’s diary.”
He held the small, flat journal at his side, tapping it against his thigh. “But now, with Shelly gone, they want Nicole?”
“That’s what they said. I don’t understand it, but I don’t trust them. They didn’t want me to tell you about Nicki. They…well, they offered to pay me off.”
Gil’s chest swelled with anger. “What the hell does that mean?”
“They’re rich,” she told him. “They offered me money to keep quiet. They said you didn’t ever need to know, that Shelly hadn’t wanted you to know and I should abide by her wishes. But I couldn’t do that.”
Thank God.
She licked her lips. “Gil, by tomorrow morning they’ll know I left with Nicki and they’ll assume I came here.”
Meaning they, too, would show up on his doorstep? Gil turned to stare at his precious little dark-haired daughter. By the second, things became more complicated.
Anabel’s hand tightened on his arm. “I won’t let them have her, but I can’t fight them on my own. You and I need each other. As a married couple, we stand a chance in the courts. Otherwise, we might both lose. And Nicole would lose more than anyone.”
At least in this instance, he could reassure her. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt her, Anabel.”
His confidence didn’t alleviate her worry. “You don’t understand.” She pulled on him, forcing him back around. “Nicki is used to love, to hugs all day long and lots of kisses and playtime and…” She stopped to collect herself. “She wouldn’t be happy with a cold, detached nanny and private schools and disdain from her grandparents. She wouldn’t be happy without me. Just read the diary tonight, and then we’ll talk.”
Because she looked so upset, Gil gave his promise. “All right. In the meantime, don’t worry about anything, okay?”
She breathed hard in her upset. The seconds ticked by. “And the trial run?”
He wished like hell that she’d quit talking about sex. “I’ll consider it.” What was he saying?
Tension drained from her body, making her shoulders loose, her frown even out. “Thank you.”
At her relieved gratitude, Gil could only shake his head. Everything that had transpired in the past hour was too unbelievable for words, culminating with that absurd thank you.
“So,” Anabel said with new purpose, “you want to carry the little rat down to the van? Not that I can’t. Sh
e’s light as a feather. But I know you’re dying to hold her and now’s as good a time as any. If she wakes up, though, give her to me quick. You don’t want her to start screaming her head off. Nicki’s got a shout that can peel paint.” As Anabel spoke, she stepped back into her sandals, took the diary from him and tucked it, with Nicki’s juice bottle, into the diaper bag. Her movements were fluid and efficient, practiced in that way exclusive to mothers.
She hefted the bag over her shoulder. When he just stood there, she said, “Well?”
Gil took the few steps to the couch—and hesitated again. He hadn’t known about her long, but already Nicole Lane Tyree had a permanent spot in his heart.
“Scoop her up, Gil. She won’t break.”
Being very gentle, he lifted her, and his precious bundle gave an indelicate juice belch into his shirt. Charmed, Gil positioned her against his shoulder, felt her stretch, and patted her back until she went boneless again. Holding his daughter against his heart felt more right than anything ever had in his life.
He glanced up—and his eyes met Anabel’s. Seeing the way she smiled at them both felt right, too. What the hell was he going to do?
First, he’d read the diary. He needed all the facts before making decisions based on emotions—or worse, on lust. At the moment, he was feeling an excess of both, one thanks to a tiny little daughter now snoring in his ear.
The other thanks to a very sexy little bombshell currently swishing her delectable ass in front of him, on the way to moving into his home.
Life as he knew it had just been turned upside down.
Anabel jerked awake with a start when she felt Gil’s fingertips brush her cheek. For a single moment, she misconstrued that tender touch, leaving her lost in a dream world where he actually wanted her. Except that she wasn’t in a bed, the sun was bright in her eyes, and Gil stood outside the van, beside her open door.
Reality hit just as Gil’s big hand settled warmly on her shoulder. She watched his gaze wander from her belly to her chest and finally to her face. He didn’t smile, and wow, there was an inferno of heat in his eyes.
“You awake, sleepyhead?” he asked in a low, somewhat gravelly voice.
Oh no, she hadn’t. Anabel’s head slewed around, taking in her surroundings. She saw that they were parked in front of a very lovely home. She had passed out on him.
In the next instant, panic hit and she turned in the seat—but there was Nicole, smiling away at her, wide awake and bubbly.
“Since she’s awake,” Gil explained, “I didn’t want to chance invoking that scream you warned me of.”
It took Anabel a second to realize that Gil meant Nicole. “Oh, yeah.” She pushed her hair from her face and rubbed her tired eyes. “You never know with her.”
As if his patience had suddenly ended, Gil reached into the van and unfastened her seat belt. His knuckles brushed the sensitive skin of her belly and she caught her breath, startled by his forwardness. He ignored her reaction, catching her arms above her elbows and literally hoisting her out of her seat.
She stumbled into him and was struck anew at how solid and comforting he felt. He was a big man who hid his ruggedness behind a suave exterior. But she knew the truth. She knew that down deep inside, Gil Watson was a wild, carnal man.
He let her lean on him for a moment while she collected herself, and oh my, it felt nice. Her life had gotten so complicated, so scary lately, and uncertain, that borrowing some of his solid strength was more than necessary. She could have stood there feeling his heat and heartbeat, breathing in his scent forever, but Nicole laughed and Gil set her a few inches away.
She’d kicked her sandals off almost as soon as they’d gotten in the van and now she felt how the warm sunshine had heated his concrete drive. She also felt her own awkwardness. Had she snored? She hoped not, but given how long it had been since she’d had a restful sleep, she couldn’t be sure. “Sorry I nodded off.”
His expression enigmatic, Gil reached inside for her sandals. “No problem. You were exhausted. I’m just glad this jalopy got us here safe and sound. You need new…everything on it.”
“Yeah.” She couldn’t very well take offense when it was true. “But it gets us where we’re going.”
He held her arm as she stepped into her sandals. “It got you here. We’ll see about more reliable transportation in the morning.”
Her defensive hackles rose. She didn’t want him to think he needed to buy her things. But then she noticed him smiling at Nicole and realized his thoughtfulness was for his daughter, not her. Naturally, he wanted the little rat safe during transportation. “You want to get her out of her seat?”
Anticipation brightened his expression. “You think she’d mind? I don’t want to frighten her.”
“With me here, she’ll be fine. Go ahead.”
Gil nodded, then leaned through the open back door. He moved slowly, spoke softly. “Hello, Nicki. You ready to come on inside?”
“Juice.” She reached out her small arms to Gil, and Anabel thought he might very well melt on the spot. It amused her to see him so affected by such a tiny person.
He unfastened Nicki’s car seat and lifted her out.
Nicki put one arm around his neck, leaned back to frown into his face, and demanded again, “Juice.”
Anabel laughed. “Patience is a virtue, rat. Let’s get inside first, okay?”
At that moment, Nicki noticed several squirrels scurrying from limb to limb in the big elm trees in Gil’s front yard. She started hopping up and down in Gil’s hold, flailing her arms and kicking her pudgy legs. “Look! Look!”
“Squirrels,” Gil told her while smiling ear to ear. “And lots of birds and some deer and occasionally a skunk or possum.”
Anabel started to unload the van, but Gil took the diaper bag from her and turned her toward the walkway. “Come on. I’ll show you around and then unload.”
Nicki was still bouncing against his chest, trying to see everything at once while Anabel studied the expansive dimensions of his sprawling ranch house. “Gee, you think there’ll be room for us?”
“Don’t be facetious. It’s actually modest.”
“Uh-huh. Like the Taj Mahal, right?”
He grinned, a beautiful, bone-melting grin that made her want to lick his mouth. Luckily, Gil was too occupied hanging onto an energetic toddler to notice her reaction. “Candace is already gone by now, but she should have your room ready for you.”
“Thank you.”
“The basement’s finished, with a workout room, hot tub, and home theater. I’ll have to put a lock on that door so Nicole doesn’t try to go down the steps.”
“Good idea.” He already showed a willingness to adjust, giving Anabel hope that it’d work out. “Usually she sits and scoots down on her fanny, but I worry. And since I didn’t know what kind of house you’d have, I brought some baby-proofing stuff. Gates, rails for a bed, outlet covers…stuff like that.”
Gil shifted Nicki, unlocked the front door, and pushed it open. “Does she get into a lot?”
“Only everything.” Anabel took two steps inside and froze. “Holy sh—” She peered at Nicki, who watched her, wide-eyed. “Um, wow. I don’t think we can baby-proof everything in here.”
Gil just shrugged. “I’ll move things around however you think is best.”
Through the wide tile foyer, she could see into the living and dining rooms. They were huge, with eleven-foot ceilings that all but echoed her surprise. His tables were heavy marble with sharp corners and glass tops, complemented by the snowy white carpeting, drapes, and walls. White, Anabel thought with a sick feeling, already imagining the spills and spots and fingerprints soon to occur.
His furniture, thank heavens, was gray leather, so probably a little more resistant to two-year-old terrors. But all in all, his home looked like what she’d imagine—an expensive bachelor’s pad not in the least suited to kids.
Nicki squirmed to be let down, and Gil, not knowing any better, obliged. Th
e second her feet touched the floor she was off like a shot, tottering this way and that, careening dangerously close to hard corners, almost but never quite losing her balance.
“Oops!” Anabel raced after her, barely managing to snatch her up just before she crashed into a pewter-fronted fireplace. “You little speed demon,” she teased Nicki while squeezing her close. Smiling, she turned to face Gil—and found him immobilized with shock.
It amused her how poleaxed he looked and she started to laugh.
“It’s not funny,” he wheezed, color just beginning to leech back into his face. “We need a padded room. Inflatable furniture. She should be wearing a damn helmet or something.”
Nicki said, “Damn helmet.”
Gil blinked, horrified, while Anabel said, “Damn is not a nice word, Nicki. Only adults can say it, okay?”
Nicki scowled at Gil.
“It’s uncanny,” Anabel told him, “how she can pick out only the curse words.”
Holding a hand to the top of his head, Gil again looked around his home, and this time he appeared sick, drawing Anabel’s sympathy. “Really, Gil, it’s okay.” And when he just stood there, she said to Nicki, “Tell your daddy it’s okay, squirt.”
Gil jerked around so fast, he nearly threw himself off balance. “She knows?”
Losing her smile, Anabel nodded. “I told her we were coming to meet her daddy. I wanted her to be excited about the trip. But right now, it’s just a word to her.” Very gently, Anabel added, “It’s up to you to make it more than that.”
Nicki squirmed to get down, trotted over to Gil, and patted his knee. “’S’okay,” she said with so much exaggerated sympathy that Gil swallowed hard, dropped to his knees, and smoothed her hair with a shaking hand.
Concerned, Nicki looked back at Anabel. “Mommy?”
Anabel joined them. She crouched down next to Nicki. “Daddy looks like he could use a hug, huh?”
Nicki nodded. “’S daddy sick?”
“No, munchkin, he’s just so happy to meet you. You want to give him a hug?”
“He give me juice?”
“I’ll get your juice.”
“’kay.” She opened her arms and wrapped them around Gil’s neck, squeezing with all her puny might before treating him to a loud smacking kiss on the cheek. She pulled back and wrinkled her nose. With her little hands holding his face, she stared into his eyes at close range and said, “You better now?”