by Sandy James
Well, this time she’d allow herself to drown in that fantastic scent. She turned to bury her face against his broad chest as sobs racked her body.
Funny, but after several long moments of weeping, Beth felt much better. Reduced to hiccups and shuddering breaths, she tried to ease back.
Robert put his hand behind her head and pushed her cheek back against his chest as if he didn’t want to let her go. Her eyes were even with Emma’s where she clung to him. Beth hadn’t realized the baby had been crying as well until she saw the tears on Emma’s cheek and her quivering lower lip.
Beth stared at Emma, and Emma stared back as Robert held them both. Just one happy little non-family. Then Beth ran her fingers down Emma’s cheek, thinking they were quite a pair. Two weeping females joined in their grief, both clinging to a man who probably wanted to get them the heck out of the house.
Leaning back slightly, she looked up to find him watching her. The concern she saw reflected in his dark eyes made her heart clench. Here was the kind of man she’d searched for her whole life, one full of compassion and honor and gentleness. Not only that, but he was gorgeous, too. From his thick hair to his perfect body, she’d even loved the light brush of gray on his temples. He’d been right beside her all along.
She knit her brows as he slowly lowered his face to hers, and when it dawned on her that he was going to kiss her, she almost turned away, afraid of allowing her lips to connect with his.
Then she closed her eyes and let it happen.
The touch of his lips wasn’t at all what she’d thought it would be. She’d expected a gentle kiss, a friendly are-you-okay-now gesture.
She got… So. Much. More.
Heat raced through her. Her head spun, and when his tongue nudged her lips apart and swept into her mouth, she clutched at the front of his shirt to keep herself anchored. Their tongues rubbed; his insistent, hers hesitant. Her heart pounded hard and fast, echoing in her ears like the beating of a bass drum.
And then he pulled back. His gaze searched hers, his confusion plain. Swiftly on the heels of that confusion came a frown that made her want to throw up.
Robert—the man who had stirred her desire so deeply—hadn’t enjoyed the kiss, and she was humiliated, feeling unworthy and defeated.
He let go, stepping back so quickly she almost fell forward. “That won’t h-happen again.”
He’d barked it loud enough that Emma gaped at him. Then her bottom lip started to tremble. Before Beth could take her back from Robert, the baby let out a squeal that could’ve broken glass.
Chapter Four
Robert gently laid Emma in the crib. He’d paced miles getting her calmed down, and now, at long last, she was sleeping peacefully. Since Beth was finally getting some well-deserved rest, he didn’t want Emma to wake her.
For a moment, he stared down at the baby. She was pretty enough to be on Gerber baby food jars. Chubby pink cheeks. A mop of curly hair. A dimple in her right cheek that popped up whenever she smiled at him.
She was smart, too. Although she only babbled, she could point out every single toy by name, and he suspected she’d be an early reader by the way she could identify the book she wanted read to her. Heaven forbid he pick up Pat the Bunny when Emma wanted Goodnight Moon.
Her laughter was infectious, and he found himself acting silly just to hear the sound again and again. Whenever Beth joined in the laughter, he felt a contentment settle over him.
Damn if he didn’t hand that beautiful little girl his heart at that very moment. The need to protect her swelled up inside him, and if fathers took vows like bridegrooms, Robert was taking his.
Why now? Why Emma?
He wasn’t entirely sure. While he was close to his nieces and nephews, he’d never experienced the downright primitive desire to watch over them the way he did Emma. Maybe it was because she needed him, needed a father figure in her life. And from the way she’d wiggled right into his heart, he needed her every bit as much.
To love, honor, and cherish.
’Til death do us part.
God, he was getting sappy in his middle age.
The next task he tackled was making some sense out of the chaos around him. Emma had more toys than she could possibly play with, and every single one of them was strewn around the apartment. Beth had obviously been shopping because there were a lot more things than she’d brought back from Princeville.
A glance at the tiny kitchen revealed a large laundry basket full of clothes sitting on the breakfast bar. Figuring it was as good a place to start as any, Robert dove into the clothes. They were clean, so he folded them into two piles—one for Bethany and one for Emma. Then he used the plastic laundry basket to store all the toys, making a mental note to build her a nice, sturdy toy box.
Dishes, mostly bottles and bowls with tiny bits of cereal clinging to the sides, were next. He mumbled to himself about how Beth didn’t seem to eat anything but cold cereal, regardless of the time of day. His final project was straightening the bathroom as best he could manage.
Why did women need so many grooming products? Shampoo. Conditioner. Face wash. Face moisturizer. Makeup. Hell, all he needed was deodorant and toothpaste. Those were in the bathroom as well, and by the time he’d finished, he realized exactly why so many of his female clients demanded so much counter space and storage in their bathrooms.
A yawn slipped out, and he kicked off his shoes. There was no way he’d be able to drive home. He’d fall asleep and smash his car right into a tree. Not that anyone would notice.
He’d left most of his friends behind when he’d turned in his resignation. It wasn’t unusual. Even the teachers who retired seldom stayed in touch with those still on the staff. Only the Ladies were actively involved in his life, but the rest of his human contact was with customers and tradesmen.
Not only was he sappy, he was also downright maudlin.
Blaming it all on fatigue, he eyed the spot next to Beth. The poor woman had fallen asleep a good two hours ago. The way she hiccuped softly from time to time told him she might’ve been crying again when she’d been in the bathroom taking a shower.
No wonder. Her whole world had been turned upside down. As long as he’d known her, he’d picked up on some of her routines. One was that she was the ultimate creature of habit, but her recent life had suddenly become nothing but turmoil. Losing her only sister. Having an infant tossed into her lap. Getting attacked by her boss.
Sappy, maudlin, and full of hyperbole.
He hadn’t attacked her. He’d kissed her.
And she’d kissed him back.
That had been a welcome surprise. Even with Emma squeezed between them, he and Bethany had shared a connection, a hot and thoroughly arousing kiss. He’d been so shocked—and so afraid she’d be angry at him—he’d shoved her away, swearing never to kiss her again.
The truth was he wanted to sit next to her on the bed right now and reenact Sleeping Beauty. Except with an erotic conclusion.
His cock hardened at the thought of making love to Beth, just as it had turned as hard as marble the moment his lips had touched hers. She’d tasted like butterscotch, probably because of the hard candies she always sucked on.
Sucked. Even thinking the word and getting a mental picture of Beth doing just that made him groan. He couldn’t even close his eyes to escape the image. It had burned into his brain.
Sappy, maudlin, full of hyperbole, and a horny old bastard.
Another yawn. The only place to sleep was on the bed. Next to her.
Liar. The chair’s fine.
Robert flipped off the lights, chuckling at the array of night-lights around the tiny apartment. He eased onto the unoccupied side of the mattress and tossed the decorative pillows on the chair. Then he stretched out next to Beth, rolling to face her.
She was lying on her back, but her face was turned toward him. She was so damn innocent. He’d never seen anything but trust in her sparkling eyes, and the way she blushed at the drop of a hat m
ade him wonder what her previous relationships had been like. Her lashes were long, dark, and utterly feminine. Her skin was smooth and pale. And her lips were barely parted and looked terribly kissable.
I’m a cliché. A forty-year-old man wanting a younger woman.
But he wasn’t thinking about sex. Well, not just about sex. He wanted her. Badly. Each passing minute only made him want her a little bit more. Not only in his bed.
In his life as well.
She was different from any woman he’d ever known, unique in a way only Beth could manage to be. It wasn’t as though he didn’t date. He was a regular at the local singles’ mixers, and he really didn’t have too much trouble getting a woman to go out with him. The problem was that most of the women didn’t “do it” for him. He’d sleep with one now and again, but more as a biological function than true passion. Something about the women he’d dated made him shy away from any commitment. They didn’t feel… right.
Part of that was his own fault. He’d only scoped out a certain type. Blond. Tall. Stacked. Svelte. That was another reason his attraction to Beth was so damned confusing. She was nothing like his “type.”
Yet he fantasized about threading his fingers through her curly brown hair. He wanted his palms to cover her breasts, even if they were smaller than what he usually craved. He wanted to pull her close, wrap his arms around her, and indulge in every fantasy he’d ever entertained, including the one about being married to a good woman and having a family.
Her eyes fluttered open, her gaze drifting to the playpen before a relieved sigh slipped out. Then those caramel eyes widened when she saw him. “Robert?”
“Shhh.” He touched a finger to her lips. “Go back to sleep.” Although he resisted the urge, he wanted to rub his finger over that pouty lower lip of hers.
“But you’re in my bed.”
“ ’Cause I’m too tired to drive home.”
“Oh…” Instead of taking advantage of Emma sleeping, Bethany slowly rolled to face him completely, her brows gathering as she looked past him. “You straightened up my apartment?”
He nodded.
“Why?”
He shrugged. “You needed some help and some rest. Get some more sleep before Emma wakes up and needs you.”
* * *
Beth didn’t want to go back to sleep. She wanted to throw her arms around Robert and thank him for being there to rescue her.
She’d been drowning, and he’d been her life preserver. The man was a natural with babies, taking to parenting like a Canadian boy to ice-skating. Emma adored him, obviously more than she liked Beth. But Beth was trying hard to please the baby, probably because she felt so sorry for her.
There was nothing Beth could do to make up for Emma losing her mother. So she’d taken to buying Emma anything that caught her fancy. Most of those toys were now in the nearly overflowing pink laundry basket. A brilliant thought on Robert’s part, turning it into a makeshift toy box, although Beth hadn’t thought past the next few hours to worry about stuff like storing Emma’s toys or clothes.
The time had come to buy a house. She’d managed a decent savings for a down payment. Maybe not enough to afford the type of home Robert could build, but something cozy was within reach. Emma deserved a real home, not an efficiency apartment. She should have a room of her own, a place to keep her clothes and toys, and maybe even a bathroom to herself as she got older.
Beth had shared a bathroom with Tiffany, and they’d fought about it all the time. One sink plus two girls equaled frustration—and sometimes fistfights.
Emma had lost her mother; she should at least have her own bathroom.
“You’re thinking awfully hard for someone who should be sleeping.” Robert’s voice was a whisper, as though they were a couple sharing a few intimate words of pillow talk before they went to sleep.
Bethany answered in kind. “I was thinking this place is too small now. I’m gonna have to buy a house.”
“I can build you one.” He sounded so darned sincere she could almost believe him.
“That’s sweet.” She smiled despite her embarrassment at her lack of finances. Teachers simply didn’t make a lot of money, and he knew that well. “I don’t have that much saved yet. And Emma needs something now.”
“I have one that’s almost ready.”
Her mind flew through the houses she’d decorated for him. All of them had already sold. It was rare when one of Robert’s even made it to market. Most were built to a buyer’s specifications, although he’d do a house on spec from time to time.
Only one possibility came to mind. “You can’t mean the one I saw today.”
“Yesterday,” he teased. “It’s after midnight. And, yes, that one.”
“I can’t afford that house, Robert. Besides, I thought you had a buyer.”
“A maybe buyer, but you need it more.” He let out a yawn that shook his whole body, and once she stopped to consider him, she realized his eyes were barely open.
“Get some sleep,” she said, feeling selfish. After all, he’d exhausted himself taking care of her and Emma.
“Hmmm…” His hum was followed by him closing his eyes the rest of the way.
Beth lay there in the dark and continued to stare at him, glad he didn’t know exactly how much she wanted him. At least when he was asleep, she could look her fill and not worry about him thinking she was being ridiculous.
Robert was her boss. Her friend. Not once had he even implied he wanted more from their connection. He was a player, as Jules always said. It was ludicrous to think of him taking a romantic role in her life.
But she thought about it. A lot. She remembered how natural he looked holding Emma, how wonderful he’d be with more children. Their children. What a great husband he’d be.
How could he not be married already?
The women at school claimed he’d never settled down because he was such a tomcat, a new woman on his arm every time they saw him. They were right. He went out with a lot of women, and he never seemed to have trouble scaring up a date. No guy that good-looking would ever be alone.
Maybe he didn’t want to settle down. Some people didn’t, although Beth had a hard time understanding them. She was truly of another generation in her values. A woman got married and had a family. That was the goal, which was why she sometimes felt like such a colossal failure. Guys just weren’t attracted to her.
No wonder. She was twenty pounds too heavy. She lacked the big boobs guys liked. She had mousy brown, far-too-curly hair. In her mind, she was everything they wouldn’t want, probably because she’d heard that sentiment from her mother far too many times.
But that hadn’t stopped Robert from kissing her.
Comforted by that, Beth rolled over so she could stop staring at him and get some sleep before Emma woke up.
Sleep was a long time in coming.
* * *
So warm and sweet.
Shivers ran the length of her body as Beth smiled, loving the way Robert was nuzzling her neck and rubbing her hip. Heat bloomed low in her belly, fanning through her as she wiggled her backside against the groin pressed hard against her.
“Hard” being the key word. The erection was easy to feel, even through their clothing. She wriggled again, loving how he growled against her skin and then ran his tongue around the shell of her ear.
His hand covered her breast, squeezing lightly before returning to her hip. Even more heat shimmered through her. She arched into his touch with the fleeting thought that it had been so long since she’d been with a man.
Years, actually.
But this man? This was the one she’d wanted for a long time, longer than she was willing to admit to herself. She’d always kept her distance, drawing clear lines between her and her colleague, who then became her boss. Besides, he’d never shown an interest in her before. Ever.
She’d only seen him with Barbie dolls. There had been more than a few. Come to think of it, she’d never seen him with the same
one twice. Robert was a player, and Beth hated players.
So why this strange fascination?
Robert’s warm lips were on her neck again, and he hoarsely whispered, “Bethany…”
Until he’d said her name, she’d wondered if he was just in the throes of some erotic dream and had reached out to conveniently find a warm woman lying next to him. But he wanted her. Bethany.
The fire inside her flared to an inferno. She needed to show him how she felt, hoping he’d bare some of his own feelings in response. “Robert…”
His insistent hand on her hip turned her to her back. Then his body blanketed her, and his lips settled on hers. With little prelude, his tongue thrust deep into her mouth.
Beth couldn’t have stopped herself if she’d wanted to. And she sure didn’t want to. Returning the ferocity of his kiss, gliding her tongue over his, she looped her arms around his neck and arched into him.
His scent—masculine with a touch of pleasant, spicy cologne—intoxicated her. His taste was quickly becoming familiar, and when his knee nudged her legs apart, she welcomed him and the way his pelvis settled between her thighs.
The kiss continued, a chase of tongues that went on and on. Robert slid his hand over her breast again, squeezing with the perfect amount of pressure as he pressed his hips into her core.
This was going to happen. It was really going to happen.
Until Emma started crying.
They broke apart like a couple of teenagers caught necking by their parents.
Beth scrambled off the sofa bed while Robert retreated to the bathroom.
Confused and reining in her passion, Beth went to Emma. She felt ashamed, but she wasn’t sure exactly why.
Was he upset by her weight? Her small breasts? What scared him away? He’d rushed off so swiftly, like he desperately needed to put some distance between them. Although he was clearly aroused, Emma’s cries had evidently made him sober, as though he really had been lost in a dream, probably thinking about his usual type of woman.