A Touch of Passion (boxed set romance bundle)

by Uvi Poznansky

  His face lifted and tilted a little to one side. "I want to ask you a—"

  "Hey, Dad," Timmy called out to Derrick as he entered the school, his best friend Eric close on his heels.

  "Hi, pal." Derrick smiled and waved. "You have a good day, okay?"

  Timmy nodded as he passed them and scurried down the hall toward the classrooms.

  "Derrick," Anna said, "he called you Dad."

  "Yeah, he did."

  She nearly smiled at his wide grin.

  Ah, pride. The opposing force to guilt. As powerful as it was craved, that parental puff was the good warrior that slew the troll, over and over again, and kept the all-important balance for every mother and father. That there-goes-my-kid expression made every parent beam with love.

  "He asked me if he could," Derrick went on. Then he shrugged. "I told him I'd love it if he called me Dad."

  "That's wonderful," Anna said. "Things will be great between the two of you now."

  She started to draw back away from him, but he captured her hands in his.

  "Can things be great for us now, too?" he asked. "Anna—" he squeezed her hand slightly "—will you marry me?"

  "Derrick!" His name came out in a breathless gasp. "Don't," she said in a painful, croaking whisper. "You hardly know me. I have to go."

  He pressed her palm to his chest directly over his heart. "I know you. I feel like I've always known you. You're the woman for me." His voice lowered. "You feel the same about me. You know you do. I know you know. And I know you know that I know that you know." He chuckled. "Sometimes the truth just punches you right in the gut."

  Anna tugged her hand from his. "This is crazy!" She stood up and snatched her bag from the floor. "I have to go. I have to go now. The kids are alone in the room."

  Confusion and panic chased her down the hall as she rushed toward her classroom.

  She'd anticipated, expected, wanted to hear the normal, loud frenzy of her students. She knew the daily ritual would help to calm her frayed nerves. Make the insanity of Derrick's astounding proposal fade away. But when she went through the door, the children were seated at their desks, quiet as little mice.

  She took a single step and then stopped dead in her tracks. What the heck was going on?

  Then she saw it. The blackboards were covered with writing.

  "Will you marry me, Miss Maxwell?"

  The question was repeated dozens of times, she guessed, on the three large blackboards secured to the walls of her room.

  "Oh, my," she said. "Oh... my."

  "So what do you say, Miss Maxwell?"

  She spun around at the sound of Derrick's sexy, oh-so-confident voice.

  "Oh, my."

  Derrick chuckled, and she was vaguely aware of some twitters from her boys and girls.

  "Do it, Miss Maxwell."

  She didn't know which little voice that bit of encouragement had come from.

  "Yeah, do it," another child said.

  "I could use a mom."

  Anna's gaze whipped toward Timmy, his beaming face bringing tears to her eyes. She looked at Derrick.

  "What about all the things I just told you?" she asked him.

  He shrugged one shoulder. "They change nothing."

  Glancing from one blackboard to another, Anna realized that Derrick must really love her to go to the trouble of doing something so stupid, so romantic, so over-the-top as to propose—a hundred times—right in front of her students. She also understood now that he hadn't come to the school to talk about her condition; that he'd planned to ask her to marry him regardless of the details of her medical history.

  Derrick loved her. And he was willing to accept her just as she was. With his heart—and his eyes—wide open.

  With tears splintering her vision into a dozen shards of brilliant light, she smiled at Derrick. He'd been right when he said that sometimes the truth punches you in the gut. It also sometimes gives you a swift kick in the butt. That's how she was feeling. Completely bested by the truth.

  She had no choice but to surrender.

  "I love you, Derrick Richmond. And I'd love to marry you."

  They rushed toward each other, and as the children cheered, Derrick took her in his arms. She felt utterly overwhelmed and she simply couldn't stop the tears from falling.

  Derrick cradled her face between his hands and planted a light and gentle kiss on her lips. "I love you," he whispered.

  A few of boys and girls laughed and clapped at the sight, but most of them cried a loud, collective, "Ewwww!"

  Anna's throat was closed off with deep emotion so she simply hung on to the man she loved.

  Just then April and Billy came into the classroom.

  "What's goin' on?" Billy demanded.

  April looked around at her classmates. "What did we miss?"

  The whole class laughed—until the school principal entered, then a pin could have been heard clattering to the floor, so abruptly silent were the wide-eyed children.

  Mr. Styes took in the situation. Anna felt the urge to step out of Derrick's arms, but he held her fast. She sniffed and wiped at her damp eyes.

  "I can explain," she said.

  "There's no need," the man told her. Then he grinned. "Why don't you take the day off?"

  "I beg your pardon?" she said.

  "Well, it's not every day that a woman gets engaged in such a—" he looked around the room "—flamboyant manner." He laughed in spite of himself. "But then, Miss Maxwell, I wouldn't expect anything less from you."

  The principal motioned toward the door. "Go ahead," he told Anna and Derrick. "I've called a substitute, and I don't mind staying with your class until she arrives."

  "Thanks, Mr. Styes," Derrick said brightly. "Thank you very much."

  "But... but..." Anna continued to object weakly as Derrick pulled her out the door and down the hallway.

  As soon as they exited the building, Derrick grabbed her around the waist and spun her round and round, burying his face in her loose, flowing hair.

  "I love you, woman," he said, nearly shouting the words.

  Anna laughed. "And I love you."

  The kiss they shared was long and lingeringly sensual. Anna felt a tingling sensation start at the tips of her fingers and travel the length of her body to her toes.

  She pulled back and gazed into his dark, glittering eyes.

  "So, where are we going?" she asked.

  His gaze turned suddenly wicked. "I think our first stop should be the park behind Main Street. At this time of the morning we should have the place all to ourselves."

  With their hands clasped in a tight, possessive grip, they ran toward his car, laughing, as Anna's colorful, gauzy skirt whipped behind her in the cool, autumn breeze.

  Epilogue

  Derrick looked out at the bay where a now teenaged Tim slowly steered a jet ski, giving his eight-year-old sister a ride. Little Heather had been a lively ball of energy since the first day she'd come into their home as a toddler.

  "Daddy! Daddy!" he heard his daughter shout from the water. "Look at me! Look at me!"

  Waving at Heather and Tim, Derrick smiled. The love he felt for those two children never failed to make his heart lurch in his chest.

  "Here I come, ready or not."

  The small voice coming from behind him had him turning to face the house. Derrick forced himself to remain still as he watched his other daughter make her way down the grassy slope toward him.

  The brace on five-year-old Susanne's leg made her journey slow and awkward. But since she'd joined their family, Derrick had quickly come to realize how important it was to her that he allow her to maneuver down the incline all by herself. Adopting a special needs child had been a long and harrowing experience. Several times, both he and Anna were sure their petition would be rejected. But he was glad they had stuck with it. Susanne's determination and ever-growing independence never failed to make Derrick feel proud.

  "Hey, pumpkin," he said as she hugged onto his leg. "R
eady for your swimming lesson?"

  "Ready!"

  He looked expectantly up toward the house.

  "Where's your mom?" he asked Susanne.

  "She's changin' Samuel's diaper," the little girl informed him. "Daddy, I know he's just a baby and he doesn't know any better, but, boy, he really smells bad."

  She held her nose, her face squenching. Derrick laughed and ruffled the child's baby-fine hair. "Babies do that sometimes."

  Samuel was his and Anna's first infant adoption. The girls had been toddlers when they had joined the Richmond household. And Derrick couldn't believe how Anna's motherly instinct had blossomed in the past three days since bringing the baby home. He had to admit that he found this soft, gentle side of Anna to be extremely appealing.

  "Daddy."

  Derrick swiveled his head toward the sound of his beautiful wife's breathy voice. "Hi, there," he said.

  She smiled, and he felt a tightening way down low in his gut. God, how he wanted her. But that would have to wait until later. When the kids were all tucked into bed, and he and Anna had some time all to themselves.

  "Our boy's all fed and changed," Anna said. "He's ready for a nap, so I thought I'd cuddle him out here under the tree and watch you and Susanne with your first lesson."

  At the mention of her name, Susanne tugged at the leg of his swimming trunks. "Come on, Daddy. Come on." She twirled one lock of her hair. "I really am glad you're teachin' me to swim," she said. "I hate when Tim makes fun of me for not knowin' how."

  "Well, let me tell you," Derrick said, "there was a time when Tim couldn't swim, either." He lowered his voice conspiratorially, "Not only that, but Tim was afraid of the water."

  The little girl giggled. "Tim was a scaredy-cat. Tim was a scaredy-cat," she sang.

  "Now, look what you've done," Anna commented.

  Derrick grinned. "It's only right that she have some ammunition to use against her big brother."

  They watched Susanne make her way down to the water's edge, sit down and begin unfastening her leg brace.

  Focusing his attention on his youngest son, Derrick bent down and nuzzled the infant's silky soft cheek.

  "He smells like heaven," he murmured to Anna, straightening and putting his arm around her, drawing her close.

  Anna grinned. "You should have had a whiff of him a few minutes ago."

  Derrick ignored her teasing comment, determined that she wouldn't break this rare moment of romance. "You smell like heaven, too."

  He tugged aside the strap of her bright purple tank top and kissed her bare, suntanned shoulder. "Your skin is as soft as Samuel's is, too."

  "Well, thank you, sir." Anna smiled.

  They stood staring out at the bay, watching their children frolic in the water.

  "Did you ever think we'd be this happy?" he asked her.

  "After that disastrous wedding day," she said, grimacing, "I thought we were doomed."

  "Aw, now—" he hugged her against his side, being careful of the baby "—our anniversary was days ago. Once a year, you dwell on our bad beginning. It really wasn't all that bad, was it?"

  Anna rolled her eyes. "Puh... leeze," she said.

  He had to laugh, the sudden burst of sound frightening the baby. "Yeah," he finally admitted, "you're right. But we did turn things around. We've made out all right."

  She crooned to the baby a moment. "Yes," she said, kissing Derrick softly on the cheek, "we did turn things around, didn't we?"

  He bent just enough so he could whisper in her ear, describing in great detail all the ways in which he planned on proving his love late in the night when the two of them would be alone.

  "You know," she said, her voice husky with desire, "it's bad luck to make promises and then break them."

  He gazed deeply into sea green eyes—eyes that had captured his heart from the very first. "I wouldn't dare," he told her. Then he grinned. "I have way too much fun fulfilling them."

  Derrick kissed Anna soundly on the mouth, a kiss that left no question as to how very much he loved her, and then he trotted to the water to teach his daughter to swim.

  ~ The End ~

  This has been

  The Single Daddy Club: Derrick

  Volume I of The Single Daddy Club

  by

  Donna Fasano

  First Chapter of The Single Daddy Club: Jason

  Volume II of The Single Daddy Club

  Jason Devlin rested his jaw on his fist and took in as much of his messy house as a scan of his eyes would allow.

  He sat at the kitchen table, steam from his fresh-brewed coffee wafting by his nose in enticing tendrils, but he was too damned tired to pick up the mug. The eleven-to-seven shift he'd just come from had worn him to a frazzle. At around one o'clock this morning, he'd had to chase a teenager through a swampy field. The boy had failed in his first attempt at robbing a convenience store. Jason suspected the teen's sudden loss of nerve, and the fact that he wasn't carrying a weapon of any kind, not to mention that he had no prior criminal record, were all good indications that deep down the kid was decent. He was just a little mixed-up at the moment. It happened. Good kids sometimes made bad choices. Jason saw evidence of it every day.

  After talking with the boy and his parents, Jason was certain the justice system would be lenient in this case and give the misguided teenager another chance. Inhaling deeply of the steam rolling off the rich coffee, Jason desperately hoped an infusion of caffeine would give him enough energy to spend what was going to be a long day with his bright-eyed, giggly toddler.

  As though the very thought had conjured his twenty-month-old daughter, little Gina pattered into the room. She marched right up beside his chair.

  "Gina's poopie," she announced. Then she promptly clamped her index finger and thumb on her nose to protect herself from the smelly fumes coming from her soiled diaper.

  Jason looked down, and despite his fatigue, found himself smiling into her angelic face. Her blue eyes were clear and inquisitive, her long, deep-chestnut curls matched his own wavy hair to a T in color and thick texture.

  He had often wondered what it would be like if Gina had favored her mother in looks, rather than himself. A familiar twinge of guilt accompanied his thought of Marie. He hated the very idea that his wife had died giving birth to their beautiful daughter, had grappled often with the concept of why an event so miraculous could also have been so tragic.

  Sighing heavily, he shoved away the gloomy thought. He had too much to do today to be dwelling on the depressing past.

  "Well then, little lady," he said, the weariness he heard in his voice just one more reminder that he'd been up all night, "we need to take care of that."

  He pushed out the chair and shifted in the seat, planting his sock-covered feet on either side of her tiny body. She grinned up at him and reached out to clutch a handful of the pant leg of his navy blue uniform.

  This was a signature move on his daughter's part. It didn't matter if he was wearing his just-pressed blues, or a newly laundered dress shirt, or ratty pair of cutoffs, she would gather up whatever fabric was in her reach, usually with sticky fingers, and give a good, long tug. It was as if she thought she could pull herself up into his arms, which was one of her very favorite places to perch.

  "Yes." She gave an emphatic nod of agreement.

  Jason stood up, lifting Gina against his chest, and started across the kitchen. As his leg swung into his second step, he came into sharp contact with the wooden duck pull toy that sat in the middle of the tile floor. Pain shot up his toe, radiating through his entire foot like hot pulses of liquid fire.

  The toy quacked flatly as it plowed into the small tower of plastic building blocks nearby. The tower toppled over, scattering blocks all over the already cluttered floor.

  Inhaling sharply, Jason controlled the curse that was on the tip of his tongue. Ever since Gina's birth he'd tried hard to banish foul language from his vocabulary. It wasn't an easy task when his work as a cop brought him f
ace to face with some very unsavory characters in some pretty nefarious situations. Especially when he worked the third shift, as he had last night. Drunks, thieves, wife-beaters. Too many mean and aggressive people who seemed to relish making him or his partner lose control of their anger. Besides, it seemed that spewing a mouthful of filth was an acceptable practice these days.

  Jason remembered when, just a few days ago, Gina's grandfather, Jack, had become angry over the fact the paperboy had, yet again, tossed his newspaper into the yew bush. The man had let loose a loud curse, and Gina went around saying, "Damn it to hell," all day long. Of course, she hadn't a clue what she had been saying, she only knew she had been proud to have learned some new words.

  Gina twisted in his embrace and looked down at the floor, the warm pile in her diaper pressing against his forearm. "Daddy hurt ducky?" she asked, alarm keen in her gaze.

  "Ducky is fine," he assured her, trying to ignore the violent demise that flashed through his mind for the darned duck.

  Jason swallowed the pain that throbbed through his foot and limped down the hallway to Gina's bedroom.

  "Here we are." He put his daughter down on the changing table and automatically reached for a disposable diaper, setting it within easy reach.

  The tabs on Gina's soiled diaper made a loud zipping sound as he tugged them apart, but Jason didn't hear it.

  His mind played back the disagreement he'd had with Gina's sitter when he'd arrived home from work this morning. He couldn't understand why Mrs. Haskell had become so indignant. All he'd asked her to do was stay with Gina a few more hours so he could get some much-needed sleep. He'd even offered to pay her time and a half.

  "I told you last week when I took this job," she'd stated, "I don't do housework. I don't cook. I don't do laundry. And I don't work overtime."

  Mrs. Haskell had quit right then and there. "I just don't think this arrangement is going to work out," she'd said. "I don't have to take this."

  She'd lost him completely with that last statement. Not once during the past week had he asked her to clean the house—although he could certainly see that the house needed a good cleaning. He hadn't asked her to cook a thing. In fact, he'd made Gina's meals ahead before leaving for work. And Mrs. Haskell hadn't washed one stitch of Gina's clothes; however, the ripe odor coming from his daughter's clothes hamper was a sure sign that her laundry needed doing.