by Nicole Casey
I couldn’t move; I couldn’t draw him in deeper—not yet. I focused on making my body relax around him as he thrust in hard and fast, holding onto my hips to keep my body from sliding further up on the bed with his powerful thrusts.
As my body adjusted, it joined in, moving against him, its desperation just as potent as his own.
He released his hold on one hip after a few moments and moved between us. His fingers pressed against my clit and my hips nearly bucked off the bed in response. I was so close already, so when he started to rub back and forth, I rocketed to the precipice. I was right there.
“Come for me, Emma. I want to see you come with my cock in your pussy,” he ground out between clenched teeth.
I couldn’t have held back if I’d wanted to. All of a sudden, the heat splintered outward, jolting through every fiber of my body and making me scream in ecstasy. His hips bucked, driving him in once more, and he followed me almost instantly.
Though he was done, I never wanted to let him leave, and I remained as still as I could to savor the moment for as long as possible. Eventually, he withdrew, but instead of zipping up his fly and leaving—like I half-expected him to do—he laid down on the bed and pulled me with him. He gathered me in his arms and I laid my head against his chest, listening to the steady pound of his heartbeat and letting it lull me into a blissful sleep.
9
Ryan
I laid there cursing myself over and over again while I watched her sleep, the steady rise and fall of her back signaling that she slept soundly. What the hell was wrong with me? I’d managed to keep my distance for days, spending as much time at the office as possible and doing everything else I could to avoid her. And I’d just failed completely.
I’d tried to move on, knowing whatever it was between us had gone on too long already. I’d even contemplated picking up some new woman at the bar after work, but I didn’t even make it through the door. The fact was, any woman I found there wouldn’t be Emma. And I’d wanted Emma.
I forced myself out of her bed, hating how much I didn’t want to leave. Once out of bed though, I couldn’t help but stand there, staring down at her. She was beautiful; sexy as hell, yes, but something more—and the most dangerous thing I’d ever encountered.
I’d always been careful to keep my distance, not in fear for myself, but to keep any partner from getting the wrong impression or building expectations for a relationship that was never going to exist. Never once had I been even remotely tempted. But Emma had done far more than tempt—she’d just about driven me crazy.
But I wasn’t going to allow myself to slip again. I’d been hoping whatever it was I felt for her would run its course and fade, but it wasn’t happening, in fact, it was only growing stronger. So there was no point in continuing to wait for a fade that wasn’t going to come. Instead, it was time to accept that I’d made a colossal mistake—wading in far deeper than I should have—and since I’d been such a fool, having to fight this innate pull toward her was the consequence—stay aware of it, and stay untangled. Though I imagined that was going to be a whole lot easier said than done.
Perhaps it was time to send Emma on her way; remove the temptation and hope I’d have enough sense not to go chasing after it. Besides, the sooner I sent her on her way, the sooner she could get back to pursuing a career that had only begun to get underway when I’d come into the picture. That did make me wonder though, and not for the first time, why she’d even agreed to take on the role of a nanny. She was a McKenna, and while it wasn’t a completely uncommon last name when it was attached to someone in this neighborhood, it could only be the McKenna family whose money went back further than the Declaration of Independence.
Why would a woman with more money than she could spend in ten lifetimes, and by her own confession, a career she looked forward to with enthusiasm, put her life on hold for me and Abby—complete strangers to her at the time? It made no sense. There had to be an underlying reason she’d agreed to take my ridiculous offer.
I was well aware that I was grasping at straws, looking for any reason to build a wall between her and I, but it wasn’t a wholly unreasonable question. Of course, the logical thing to do would be to ask her, but since I was admittedly half-crazy at the moment, I thought of a better way. And really, people with ulterior motives were seldom known to profess them honestly.
So, I crept out of her room and went to my office at the other end of the house. I picked up the phone and dialed the number of a man I’d employed only occasionally. The personnel department at the office wasn’t good enough this time. I needed more; I needed someone to dig beneath the surface to find out what Emma McKenna had been up to all this time.
And two days later I had my answer, though I could hardly believe the proof on the page in front of me. I should have been rejoicing at finally having the solution to my problem, a solution that would build a wall so high between us I’d never have to worry about getting close to Emma ever again.
But I wasn’t rejoicing; I wasn’t even relieved. Instead, a stab of pain shot through my chest and I wanted to rip up the paper, shred it into a thousand pieces and burn every last one of them. But that was pointless. It wouldn’t change a thing.
Emma had lied to me. All this time, she’d been busy trying to keep me distracted and hoping I’d slip up, all of it nothing more than a ploy. Hell, she’d even sacrificed her virginity for it. She must be one hell of a sister.
Her brother was none other than Michael Fraser, president, and CEO of Fraser Enterprises. Six months ago, that name wouldn’t have meant a thing to me, but it did now. And it had for the past two months throughout which my company and his had been locked in a cutthroat battle for the same big-ass client. Fraser’s company had been on the decline for the past two years and it teetered on the verge of bankruptcy. This one client would be vital to keeping it alive. And Emma had appeared on the scene just days after the two companies had begun negotiations with the potential client. What was the likelihood that her sudden appearance was sheer coincidence? If I had to guess at the moment, I’d say about zero.
I crumpled the page in my hand, gripping it over and over again until my knuckles turned white. Once again, I was angrier with myself than I was with her, but damn it, some of the blame fell on her this time, too. I should have known better, but what she’d done was despicable.
Still, I should have been a lot more cautious who I let into my life—who I let into Abby’s life!
And that was the part that was unforgivable. If it had only been me she’d duped, I could have found a way to move past it, or at least to part on neutral terms. But it wasn’t just me. She’d played my daughter for a fool, pretending to care for Abby and letting her get close. Did it even bother her in the slightest how much Abby would be hurt when her brother’s deal was done—one way or the other—and she walked away?
The thought infuriated me, so much that I couldn’t keep still any longer. I paced back and forth across the office, trying to regain some semblance of calm, but an hour passed and then another, and it seemed there was none to be had.
Emma had to go. I had no idea what I was going to tell Abby, but the first step had to be getting the woman out of my house to at least stop her from causing any more damage. I debated barging into her room now and demanding she get the hell out, but not yet. I was still too angry.
First thing in the morning then. I’d approach her calmly and coolly and demand she leave. Fortunately for her, that merely meant a walk across the lawn since she happened to own the house next door.
But I didn’t want revenge. I just wanted her gone.
10
Emma
I awoke before the sun, a normal occurrence since Abby had come into my life. But I didn’t feel well, not exactly sick either, just…something…and it seemed like a terrible omen.
I’d been in denial the past few days, but I had a sinking feeling there would be no more denying it after this morning. I was never late. Never. And yet, here
I was a full week late. I’d darted into the pharmacy yesterday when I’d taken Abby to the park, but the handful of tests had been sitting in my purse ever since.
I couldn’t put it off any longer though. I needed to know. So, I reluctantly climbed out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom, grabbing my purse as I went from where it sat on the dresser. And three minutes later, I stared down at the tiny positive sign in the pregnancy test window. It seemed so small; two thin, blue lines that crossed like the letter ‘t’. It seemed almost ridiculous that such a small thing could have such an enormous impact on one’s life. But if those two little lines were telling the truth, my life was never going to be the same.
My breathing came quicker the more I thought about it, and I could feel my pulse speed up. I had no idea if Ryan wanted more children. It wasn’t something we’d ever talked about. And that was because a relationship was something we’d never talked about either. I got the distinct impression that committing himself to me for anything longer than a few hours late at night was the last thing Ryan wanted. How was he going to feel when I told him he was going to be tied to me irrevocably, at least in this way?
But maybe it was a fluke. Yes, it had to be a fluke.
Grateful for the two bottles of spring water I’d downed before bed, I pulled out another test and repeated the same steps as the first. An old saying played in my head as I set the test down on the sink edge to wait, “Crazy is doing the same thing over and over again, and hoping for a different result.” It seemed fitting since I was most definitely feeling a little crazy at the moment.
Before a full minute had passed, the same two blue lines appeared in the test window and I sank down on the floor in defeat. It wasn’t that I didn’t want children. I’d always wanted a large family so that each child would have plenty of brothers and sisters to grow up with. But this wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t how I’d imagined starting that family; twenty-one years old, and currently employed as a nanny for the man who happened to be the father of my child—and who wanted absolutely nothing to do with long-term relationships.
What a mess I’d made!
A knock sounded at my bedroom door, and panic raced through my veins. There was no way it was Abby standing out in the hallway because I had learned quite quickly that Abby does not knock. And that left only one other possibility, and I didn’t relish the thought of facing him at the moment. But when he knocked on the door again, I knew he wasn’t going to be put off much longer.
“Emma,” he called in a stern voice as I heard the door to my room open slowly.
I sprang to my feet, knocking almost everything on the edge of the sink onto the floor. Damn it! I swooped down and gathered it all into my purse as quickly as I could, zipped it up and placed it on the towel shelf next to me.
I took a deep breath, only realizing then that my face was wet with tears. I brushed them away angrily as quickly as I could and opened the bathroom door. But I came to a dead stop when I looked up and saw the expression on his face. It seemed we’d just taken a swift tumble from his typically cool and aloof daytime behavior to downright furious.
His expression faltered for the briefest of seconds when he saw me—no doubt I hadn’t managed to wipe away all proof of the stupid tears—but it hardened again quickly.
“When were you going to tell me?” he asked, and I couldn’t stop myself from glancing back at the purse on the bathroom shelf. But he couldn’t possibly know. I’d only known myself for a whole two minutes! So, what on earth was he talking about?
“Tell you what, Ryan?”
“Right. The whole point was to not tell me, to string me along and keep me distracted just long enough for my deal to fall through.”
“Deal? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I felt at a severe disadvantage, standing there in a T-shirt that barely covered anything vital, and my mind already too overwrought this morning to think straight about whatever accusation he was flinging at me.
“Your charade’s up, Emma. I’m sure you thought you were doing a great job playing me for a fool, but if you thought this little seduction act was going to work, you’re really not as bright as I thought you were. I’ve built my entire company from the ground up, and nothing—not even a sexy as hell little actress—is ever going to get in my way. That you would insinuate yourself in the way you have, letting Abby get close to you…it’s despicable.”
“How dare you barge into my room to accuse me of somehow conspiring against you! Conspiring to do what, Ryan? To get the inside scoop on how Ryan Cade spends his days and release it to the tabloids?” I jeered, my ire growing exponentially every second.
A flicker of doubt crossed his expression, but then it was gone. “I barged into your room? What the hell do you need a room for? You’ve got an entire house next door! And since you’re not welcome in this one, I’d suggest you go back there.” His voice had gotten louder and louder as he spoke so that he nearly yelled the last words.
It’s funny; right there in the midst of an argument that made absolutely no sense to me…right there it hit me. I didn’t just like Ryan, and I wasn’t just attracted to him. I’d fallen in love with him. I had no idea what had made him so angry, but right then, I would have done anything in my power to take it away from him. And since I could find no explanation for his anger, there was only one thing I could think of that would do that.
All the fight in me fled. This was it then.
“I suppose I should leave,” I whispered, finding that it hurt more than I would have expected. To not see Abby again. Or Ryan. But since I was so obviously the source of his anger, I didn’t have a choice.
As discreetly as possible, I slipped into the shorts at the end of the bed and then I pulled out the suitcase under my bed and started tossing things into it, not caring whether I left anything behind.
“Tell your brother his little ploys are a waste of time,” he said as I closed the suitcase and zipped it up.
“Michael?” I hadn’t spoken to my half-brother since my parents’ funeral. And in the ten years prior to that, I’d only seen him a handful of times, usually at family gatherings. With fifteen years between us, we weren’t close. There wasn’t any terrible backstory to it; he was heading off to college before I even started preschool—not the foundation of a close relationship.
So, what on earth was Ryan talking about then? And I was just about to ask when Abby appeared in the doorway.
Oh god, how was I supposed to do this?
“Where ya going, Emma?” she asked innocently.
“I just have to go for a while, sweetheart. But I won’t be far away, just next door. So you can come visit me when your dad says it’s ok.”
“Oh. You’re going back to your house?” she said, a little uncertain.
“Yes well…” Ryan cut in, “Emma was just helping you get settled in here. Now that you’re settled in, she can go back to her house. But you’ll still get to see her, don’t worry.”
It looked like he had it all figured out. I hugged Abby tightly, fighting back unfamiliar tears, grabbed my purse from the shelf in the bathroom and hurried out. It was better this way, leaving before Abby got any more attached to me.
Too bad I didn’t leave soon enough to avoid getting attached to the cotton candy princess…and her father.
11
Ryan
I stood in Emma’s room, replaying the last several minutes over and over again in my mind. She’d seemed genuinely stunned when I’d mentioned her brother, so much that it made me wonder if I’d somehow misjudged the situation. But no, I’d judged it right. She hadn’t put up the least bit of fight, which meant she knew she’d been found out and there was no point in sticking around any longer.
So that was it then.
Abby tugged on my arm. “So, who’s gonna cook breakfast now, daddy?”
“I will, kiddo,” I replied, trying to ignore the doubtful expression on her cherub face.
“Just ‘member, no pancakes.”
; I nodded and turned to leave the room, trying to smile as brightly as I could for her.
But she stayed where she was. “You know, maybe you should get Emma back here, ‘cause she can make pancakes. And she makes other stuff, too.”
“We’ll find something for breakfast. Don’t worry.”
And that was precisely what I did—a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice for breakfast. Sure, it wasn’t gourmet dining, but it was nutritious and there was no way I’d wind up sounding the smoke alarm while preparing it.
“Why don’t we go to the fair outside the city today?” I asked as she pushed the cereal around in the milk in her bowl.
She smiled excitedly and delved into her food. Two minutes later, she was dashing down the hall to get ready for the outing. It was only when she came out of her room a short while later that I realized how far she’d come already. She was fully dressed—shorts, T-shirt, a sunhat, and even matching socks—and she’d done it all by herself. The first morning I’d sent her to get dressed—not realizing that four-year-olds needed help with that sort of thing—she’d come back wearing an unzipped, orange dress underneath a purple T-shirt, a red, winter hat, and her pink, fluffy slippers. And I didn’t know until I’d taken her back to her room for a fashion repair that she hadn’t been wearing anything under her dress. The first climb up the stairs to the slide at the park and I would have been burning red in embarrassment.
“You look very pretty, honey,” I told her genuinely now.
“Thank you, daddy. Emma says to pick out my clothes and put them on the bed together. That way I can see if I have ev’rything and I can make sure I like the stuff.”
“That’s very smart advice,” I said, trying not to acknowledge that Emma was probably responsible for a lot of the progress Abby had made in the past several weeks.