An Inconvenient Desire

by Alexia Adams

  He had a child. He was a father.

  Not willing to trust the evidence in front of his eyes, he reached around and grabbed the envelope off the coffee table. All the while Olivia was trying to make conversation with the girl.

  His hands shook as he pulled the documents from the envelope. “Her name is Hannah,” he whispered. He blinked a couple of times before he could read the rest of the information on the forms. “She’s eighteen months old.”

  He dropped the papers and flopped onto the floor. “My God, I have a daughter.”

  • • •

  Olivia shoved back down the emotions threatening to choke her from the drama she’d just witnessed and concentrated on the little girl. “The butterflies on your dress are beautiful, Hannah. Do you like the pink ones or the blue ones best?” She pointed to an example of each as she talked. Did eighteen-month-olds know their colors yet? Did they know what butterflies were? Did Hannah have any idea she’d just been dumped by her mother? Thank God she wasn’t crying. Because if the little girl started, Olivia wouldn’t be able to keep the tears at bay.

  She blinked back the moisture in her eyes and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. The wounds from her own childhood, which she’d thought had healed, were raw and festering once more. Celeste’s words had ripped her own heart out. There was no way she was going to let this little angel go to sleep tonight without knowing she was precious and loved. Jonathan still sat on the floor where he’d collapsed, the papers from the envelope spread out before him. He raised stunned eyes to Hannah, a shimmer of dampness brightening the blue of his irises. The bit of Olivia’s heart that wasn’t aching for Hannah twinged for the father who hadn’t even known he was one.

  “Jonathan, don’t you think you should introduce yourself to your daughter?” She tried to keep her tone as gentle as possible, but he needed to snap out of his trance.

  “I’m … yes … of course.” He reached out and brushed a curl off his daughter’s face. “Hannah, I’m your daddy.”

  The little girl raised her head and looked at him but still made no reply.

  He looked at Olivia and her heart melted. Panic and uncertainty clouded his eyes. “I don’t know what to do,” he whispered.

  Would Olivia’s father feel anything if he found out about her existence? She’d shut down that fantasy long ago. No man was going to appear and rescue her from her past. But the girl before her still had a chance. She vowed, then and there, that Hannah wasn’t going to suffer as she had.

  Olivia wracked her brain. She didn’t have a lot of experience with children either, just a few days of playing with Sophia’s nieces and nephew the previous week in London. She tried to put herself in Hannah’s position, suddenly left alone with two complete strangers. “Let’s try and make her comfortable and go from there,” she suggested.

  “Hannah, honey, are you hungry?” Jonathan asked.

  Her little head bobbed once. Olivia held out her hand and Hannah put her tiny fingers in her palm. A rush of emotion so intense it nearly buckled her knees swept through her.

  “Your daddy just made the most delicious smelling muffins. Let’s go get one.”

  As Olivia stood, Jonathan’s gaze traveled the length of her bare legs. What would have happened if they hadn’t been interrupted? Would they be upstairs now, exploring each other’s bodies? Or sitting in his car on the way back to Sophia’s, an awkward silence between them? The ever-present desire was still there, humming in the background. But now there was something more important—making a little girl feel wanted.

  Jonathan followed them into the kitchen. He placed a muffin on a plate and then filled a glass with milk, setting it on the table. Olivia sat and then lifted Hannah onto her lap. At first Hannah held herself stiffly. But after a few bites of muffin and a drink of the milk she relaxed against Olivia’s chest.

  “She looks tired,” he said. His eyes had barely left Hannah’s face since they sat down.

  “Let’s see if we can get her to sleep. Then we can figure out what to do.” Olivia stood and Hannah snuggled even closer.

  They climbed the stairs together. Hannah put her little pudgy arm around Olivia’s neck and Jonathan’s hand rested on the base of her spine. Whether it was to prevent her from falling or if he was afraid she’d run away, Olivia wasn’t sure. Jonathan directed her toward a bedroom with two single beds against opposite walls.

  “This is the coolest room in the house at the moment,” he said. His voice was raw and she searched his eyes. She blinked at the pain she saw there.

  Standing Hannah on the bed, Olivia unbuttoned the ruffled, long-sleeved, heavy cotton dress and was shocked at the red lines on the little girl’s body. “This dress is too small. What else did they leave for her to wear?”

  Jonathan raced downstairs and returned in a minute with the tiny suitcase and soft cotton bag. Putting the case on the other bed, he pulled out a selection of dresses, each like the one she’d just removed.

  “They are all the same. And the labels say twelve months so they’re too small as well.” He rummaged through the cloth bag. “Four nappies and an almost empty packet of wipes, that’s all.” He muttered something under his breath that Olivia took to be a swear word in Italian.

  “When was the last time you changed a nappy?” she asked. She needed him to concentrate on the here and now. There would be enough time to rail against his ex later.

  “Ten years ago when my nephew Alex was a baby. You?”

  “Last week when I was looking after Sophia’s baby niece. I guess that means I’m up. Lay down, Hannah, let’s get this wet nappy changed.” When she undid the tabs, a startled gasp escaped her.

  “How could Celeste let things get this bad?” he said through clenched teeth as they both looked at the angry red skin.

  Hannah whimpered as Olivia gently wiped her before putting on a clean nappy.

  “Jonathan, do you have a vest? The kind men wear under shirts in the winter?” She forced herself not to look at his bare chest.

  “Yes, I’ll go get one.”

  “And a couple of safety pins and a pair of scissors, please,” she called as he left the room.

  She used another wipe and ran it over Hannah’s skin, cooling her. Olivia was pleased to see that the marks from where the dress had pinched were already fading. When Jonathan returned with the requested items, she set to work and two minutes later had one modified nightdress. She’d had to adjust more than one outfit in her career; she rarely left home without her mini sewing kit and double-sided tape. There was more to modeling than just wearing fancy clothes and flouncing down a runway. She slid the garment over Hannah’s head and then lay her down on the bed. The little girl’s eyes were already closing. Olivia stroked her golden curls until she drifted off to sleep.

  “Poor thing, she’s had quite a day,” Olivia whispered as Hannah snuffled in her sleep. She turned to find Jonathan watching her.

  “She’s not the only one. You haven’t even had a coffee yet.” Again his gaze ran over her and she remembered she was only wearing his shirt. This morning felt like a lifetime ago.

  “Is it too early for something stronger than coffee?”

  He took her hand and led her from the room with one long, lingering glance back at his daughter. “I have no idea,” he said.

  She wasn’t sure who needed her more at this moment—Hannah or Jonathan. But one thing was clear. This—whatever it was—had just got a hell of a lot more complicated.

  Chapter 5

  Jonathan led Olivia back downstairs, unwilling to let go of her hand. Without her, he was sure he’d still be sitting on the front room floor, staring at Hannah. For the first time in his adult life he felt completely overwhelmed. Anger, shock, disbelief had each been competing for recognition—until an intense need to protect his child flooded his system, swamping all the others. Thank God Olivia had been with him.

  “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here,” he said.

  “You’d
have managed, somehow.” She shrugged, raising the hem of his t-shirt another couple of inches.

  He forced his eyes to her face. “I should find something else for you to wear while I wash your clothes.”

  “I’m all right for now. Your shirt is comfy and cool. But I could use something to eat and drink. We should also make a list of what Hannah needs.”

  He could have kissed her for the use of the word “we” and the smile that came with it.

  Half an hour later, Jonathan sat at the kitchen table, a large pad of paper in front of him. “Are you sure you don’t mind staying while I go get these things?”

  “Of course not. In fact, if you like, I can stay for a few days. Just until you get used to being a dad, that is.”

  His heart leapt in his chest, but he refused to examine whether it was the thought of Olivia living under his roof or the mention of his newly discovered fatherhood. “Are you sure it’s not too much of an imposition?”

  “Of course not. All I was planning to do at Sophia’s was eat and read. I’m pretty sure I can do that here. Besides, I’ve fallen in love.”

  His gaze flashed to hers and his heart rate accelerated.

  “With Hannah, of course,” she added with a laugh. “You go; we’ll be okay here until you get back.”

  He stood and grabbed the pad, resisting the urge to kiss Olivia goodbye. If she was going to be staying with him, he’d need to find a way to resist her allure. “I’ll be as quick as I can. But I’ll have to go into Milan to get all this stuff. It’ll take me at least a couple of hours.”

  “Go, Jonathan. Hannah will be fine with me. I am capable of more than wearing clothes and posing for a camera, I’ll have you know.”

  He winced at her not so subtle jibe. She’d obviously picked up on his disdain for the modeling industry yesterday. Today, however, he had a whole other set of issues to deal with. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. Her skin was so soft under his lips, and the faint smell of his soap on her body sent a surge of heat through him. Too bad no store carried an anti-lust potion.

  “Good luck,” she whispered, her voice suddenly hoarse.

  With buying the stuff my daughter needs? Or resisting you?

  “Thanks.” He grabbed his wallet and left the house that had, in an instant, turned into a family home.

  Four hours later, Jonathan eased the door open. There was no screaming or crying, a good sign. The three huge shopping bags he carried bumped against the door frame, and he barged into the room with more force than he’d intended.

  Olivia hurried into the room from the kitchen, Hannah on her hip. She was dressed again in her clothes from yesterday; a slight brown stain still showed on her trousers. He searched her face for signs of distress and was greeted with a full smile.

  “I was beginning to think you’d done a runner,” she said.

  “Never. But I had no idea how much stuff a toddler needs. The lady in the store was very helpful.” He put down the bags. “Hi, Hannah. Feel better after your nap?” He stroked his daughter’s soft cheek with the back of his index finger. His stomach clenched as he stared into her blue eyes.

  Hannah nodded shyly before burying her face in Olivia’s neck. He thought he heard Olivia take a shuddering breath, but when he glanced at her face it was calm.

  “I’ve got dinner ready. Do you want to eat right away or have a drink first?”

  A tsunami of warmth flooded his body, wiping out the bitterness that lingered from Celeste’s visit. His chest swelled so much he feared he may pop a button on his shirt. A beautiful woman stood before him, cradling his child and offering him food after the most unusual day. His brain warned his heart this was only temporary. “Let me unload the truck and have a quick wash, first. But you and Hannah can go ahead if you’re hungry.”

  “We can wait. I gave her a snack about an hour ago. I thought it would be nice if we all sat together and ate as a … ”

  She shifted Hannah to her other hip and then stared over his left shoulder.

  “ … a family?” he finished for her.

  Her gaze flashed to his and he nearly stepped back. It seemed he wasn’t the only one overcome by the domesticity of their current situation.

  “I’m … ”

  “Perfect. I’ll be right back.” He all but fled from the room before he said or did something he would regret.

  • • •

  As Olivia snapped the last piece of the high chair into place, Jonathan sauntered into the room. His hair was still damp from his shower and an errant curl fell over his forehead. Her gaze lingered for a couple of seconds on his lips before perusing the rest of him. His t-shirt stretched tight over his bulging biceps. If they needed a new actor for the next Thor movie, she could make a suggestion. She dug her fingernails into her palms to stop from touching him.

  “Hannah, honey, let’s give this thing a test drive.”

  Olivia lifted the toddler into the high chair and gave her the soft doll that had also been in one of the shopping bags. One thing she could say for Jonathan, he hadn’t scrimped on anything. There were toys, clothes, books, and furniture to keep a daycare center functioning.

  When she thought she could look at him again without lust in her eye, she turned away from the toddler. Too soon. He was still staring at her as though he could eat her for dinner.

  “Sit down, Jonathan. I’ll get the food on the table. Do you want a beer or wine?” She scurried over to the fridge, but he caught her arm as she passed him.

  “You don’t have to wait on me. You’re the guest. I should be serving you.” His thumb gently rubbed her arm, sending waves of sensation through her whole body.

  “It makes me happy,” she confessed. She’d never had a proper family. Just a drug-addicted mother who told her almost daily that she was a waste of oxygen. So even though this “family” was only temporary, and not hers, she was going to enjoy every minute. In case she never had another opportunity.

  Jonathan’s eyes searched hers until she looked at the floor. He dropped his hand and sat on the chair next to Hannah’s. “A beer would be great.”

  She’d almost forgotten what they’d been talking about. After grabbing a beer from the fridge, she put it on the table, within his reach but not so close that she touched him as she did so. She then pulled the plates out of the oven where she’d been warming them and set about serving the simple pasta with chicken and mushrooms dinner. With Hannah underfoot, she hadn’t been able to create anything more elaborate.

  Twenty minutes later, Jonathan sat back in his chair and rubbed his stomach. Which reminded her of his washboard abs. “That was fabulous. Where did you learn to cook?”

  “Watching TV. You’d be surprised what you can pick up from cooking programs.” She shrugged and started to gather their plates.

  “No, my turn,” he said and took the plate out of her hand. He quickly stacked the dishes and carried them over to the sink. “I’ll do them after Hannah goes to bed. Why don’t we go into the front room and you can laugh at me while I try to put the cot together.”

  Jonathan lifted Hannah out of her high chair. At first the little girl held her body away from her father and looked pleadingly at Olivia. But Jonathan was the permanent adult in the little girl’s life. Olivia needed to step back and let them get used to each other. She turned and walked into the front room.

  By the time the two caught up with her, Hannah had her head on Jonathan’s shoulder and was rubbing her eye with one chubby hand. “Why don’t you leave the cot until tomorrow?” Olivia suggested. “Hannah and I can share a bed tonight. Want to give her a bath?”

  “I ... ”

  She smiled at the panic that entered his eyes. He looked lost again, and she had to bite her lip to stop from laughing. A two-stone bundle of blond hair and blue eyes had this tall hunk of man quivering in his boots. “You’ll be fine. Here’s the bubble bath and a few toys. I’ll come up in a minute with a warm towel from the dryer.”

  He still looked doubtful but climbe
d the stairs with Hannah in one arm, the bath products in the other. When he turned the corner toward the bathroom, Olivia slumped onto the sofa and expelled a huge breath. Her sense of self-preservation was yelling at her to leave before she got too involved. However the scars of her past refused to allow her to walk away. A child needed her. End of discussion.

  But Hannah was only part of the situation. Olivia took a few minutes to recite all the reasons why she couldn’t get involved with Jonathan. Although, twenty seconds would suffice for that—she had a career to build so she could help more children. There was no time for a man in that scenario. Unless he was going to support her 100 percent. And she seriously doubted Jonathan would encourage her modeling after his reaction at lunch yesterday.

  By the time Olivia joined them with the towel in the bathroom, Hannah was sitting in the tub, bubbles almost up to her chin. She clapped her hands and watched the bubbles fly through the air. Although she had a smile on her face, she still made no sound.

  “I guess I put in too much bubble bath,” Jonathan commented as she entered the room.

  “I don’t think Hannah minds.”

  “Oh, I called at Sophia’s house on my way to Milan and explained the situation. Maria packed your clothes and I picked them up on the way back. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Thanks, I’d forgotten about that.” She fussed with the oversized bath sheet, folding and refolding it as if it made the greatest difference.

  Jonathan rinsed the bubbles off Hannah before lifting her from the tub. Olivia swathed the tiny body in the large towel, and then Jonathan carried his daughter to the bedroom where she’d had her nap. They got the toddler ready for bed together, passing nappies and the new nightgown as though they’d been doing it for years.