When he returned, settling on his knees in front of her, it was clear that the time for talking was past. He touched her intimately, checking her readiness. She was mortifyingly wet. Wanting Dylan was a living, breathing ache.
She rested her forehead against his shoulder. “I need you,” she whispered.
Lowering her carefully onto her back, he moved over her with purpose, fitting the head of his erection to her center and pushing with a firm thrust. She inhaled sharply, her mind spinning in a dozen directions.
The confidence of his possession was warranted. His knowledge of a woman’s body guaranteed satisfaction. Mia realized he was bringing her to the brink in record time. She savored the physical connection, convinced that Dylan was the only man who ever had or ever would be able to touch her so deeply, so well.
The room was quiet, save for the sounds of his exertion. Whatever veneer of polish he had donned for the evening with his family was stripped away, incinerated in the heat of their coupling. She wrapped her legs around his waist. “Don’t stop,” she begged, spiraling upward toward an invisible peak.
“Never.”
It was a futile request and an unrealistic answer. The force of their need reduced them to the most basic human level. She bit his neck, marking him as hers. His skin was damp with sweat. Her mouth was dry.
Suddenly, he cried out, his big body shuddering atop hers. What sent her over the edge was the realization that for this one moment in time, Dylan wanted her and needed her.
For now, it was enough.
Fourteen
Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, a sound woke Dylan. He lay still for a moment, processing the fact that he was not in his own bed. Then everything came rushing back. His sex stirred reflexively, stimulated by the memories.
The sound came again. He reared up on one elbow long enough to observe the monitor. Cora was stirring.
Stealthily, he slid out of bed, anxious to catch the baby before she awakened Mia.
Cora gave him an adorable toothless smile when he bent over her crib. “Hey, sweet cheeks.” The way she looked at him made it clear that she already recognized the man in the house. When he picked her up and snuggled her, the baby smell entranced him. He realized in an instant that he had fallen in love with Cora. The sensation that gripped his chest was a simple, entirely natural emotion, but a profound one.
As he changed her diaper, she kicked her feet and cooed. Blowing a raspberry on her chubby tummy, he felt his heart turn over. She was so sweet and perfect. And she deserved a father.
The knowledge made him uncomfortable. He knew his limitations. What would it be like if he ever had a child of his own, and Dylan were unable to help with homework? Or even worse, what if the kid took after him?
Cora would be smart. He knew it. But Cora and Mia were a package. If he couldn’t keep Mia, the baby wasn’t his either. Wrapping the infant in a thin cotton blanket against the chill of the air-conditioning, he carried her into the bedroom and sat down on Mia’s side of the bed. Touching her hip through the covers, he shook he gently. “Someone wants her mama,” he said quietly.
Mia sat up, shoving the hair from her face. She was nude. The realization seemed to take her by surprise, because she flushed and scrambled for the safety of the bathroom.
Dylan kissed the baby’s cheek. “Don’t worry. She’ll be back.”
When Mia returned moments later, she was covered neck to toe in a thin black robe made of a soft knit that clung to her body. With her hair tumbled down around her shoulders, she looked like a sexually sated woman. She settled herself back in bed without looking at Dylan and reached for the baby. “You should have woken me up. Cora isn’t your responsibility.”
He stood for a moment, watching as the baby rooted for a nipple. “I love your daughter,” he said flatly. “Nothing about caring for her is a chore.”
Pissed for no good reason, he returned to his side of the bed and climbed under the covers, sprawling on his back. With one arm flung across his face, he listened to Cora’s enthusiastic nursing. Occasionally, Mia murmured to her daughter. Although the tenor of the words was soft and affectionate, he couldn’t actually make out what Mia said.
He was almost asleep when she addressed him.
Perhaps Cora was nodding off already, because Mia’s words were a whisper. “When Cora gets in school, will you think less of her if she has learning difficulties?”
The out-of-nowhere question jerked him from the edge of slumber. “Of course not.”
“So you won’t think she’s stupid or slow?”
Suddenly, he saw where this was going. “No,” he said. “I won’t.”
He didn’t need any further explanation to get what Mia was trying to tell him. He had worn the hair shirt of his academic failures stubbornly, unable to see past his youthful struggles. The truth was, he wasn’t that high-school boy anymore. Sure, he still had trouble with numbers and letters, and he always would. But what did that matter?
Suddenly, the ridiculous irony of their situation slapped him in the face. Mia had used an “average” sperm donor so she wouldn’t have a child as smart as she was. Dylan was unwilling to father a child who might struggle in school as he had. Unwittingly, he and Mia were trying to play God.
Neither of them had asked to be born with a high IQ or a reading disorder. They had both played the hands they’d been dealt. It was long past time to move on.
He’d used his frustrating studies as a yardstick to measure his success, but Mia was right. He had a lot to be proud of. The Silver Dollar drew customers from miles around and was a stopping-off point for those who wanted to explore the town. His family was close and supportive. He had a wide circle of friends and a house he’d designed from the ground up, a place of respite and peace at the end of the day.
Everything a man could want or need was his. Except for a wife. And a baby. Mia and Cora fit the bill more perfectly than any two people he could have conjured up in his imagination. There were obstacles. He’d be the first to admit it. But he loved Mia. Her job and her talent had kept him from admitting it. Now he acknowledged the truth.
He had believed he wasn’t good enough for her. But maybe love was the one ability that trumped all the rest. He could offer Mia things she had never found with other men. And by God, he was going to make her believe it. The joyous possibilities swelled in his chest, though he tempered his enthusiasm, unwilling to tip his hand too soon.
His heart thudded in his chest. Was he really contemplating such an enormous change in his life?
As Mia shifted Cora to her other breast with a smile for her infant daughter, he knew that his answer was yes. Mia brought something unique to his home and to his life. Excitement, yes. But also a deep sense of satisfaction. When he was with her, he felt at peace. Which was odd, because until Mia and Cora arrived in Silver Glen, Dylan would have sworn that his life was perfect as it was.
Imagining his house without them, even after such a short time, was unthinkable. Here in Mia’s bed, he realized that what he had shared with his ex-fiancée had been ephemeral at best. It was the difference between a flesh-and-blood woman and a hologram. Tara had been a chameleon, playing a part even when the cameras weren’t rolling.
Mia was exactly the opposite. She was real and grounded and complete. Even with his eyes closed, he knew the moment when she got up to carry Cora back to her crib. Moments later the covers rustled as she climbed back in bed, this time staying far to her side of the mattress.
Despite the late hour and their need for sleep, a stronger need drove him. In the dark he donned a condom and then took her arm and urged her closer, meeting her in the middle of the bed. Mia came willingly. She was naked again—soft and warm and so intensely feminine in his arms. He was beginning to learn the touches that pleased her, the little catches of breath that told him he had found a sensitive spot.
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Though his hunger for her was as fierce as it had been in the beginning, he didn’t mount her at first. Instead, he reveled in the feel of her body pressed against him. Her legs tangled with his. Her hands pulled his head down for a kiss that was equal parts passion and play.
“You amaze me,” he muttered.
“It’s the testosterone talking.” She slid her fingers into his hair, making him shiver. “I’m a rookie. Maybe it’s beginner’s luck.”
Though she turned his rough praise into a joke, he had never been more serious. Parting her thighs with his hand, he moved between her legs and entered her slowly. Someone sighed. Maybe her. Maybe him. This time, there was no rush.
In the darkness, he could pretend this was all that mattered. This heady rush of physical bliss. This feeling that he was in control of his domain. That all was right with the world.
Mia came before he did, her orgasm a gentle rolling wave. He picked up the pace of his thrusts and followed her, welcoming the now familiar physical release that racked him and turned him inside out.
In the aftermath, he heard her breathing settle into an even cadence. In moments she would be asleep.
“Mia.” He whispered near her ear, his lips brushing her temple.
“Hmm?” She was tucked into his embrace with her bottom nestled against his groin. It was time to yield to slumber, not to talk, but this couldn’t wait.
“When the apartment over the Silver Dollar has been repaired, I don’t want you and Cora to move. I want you to stay here.”
He couldn’t miss the way her body stiffened.
“Why?” she asked.
Because I like having you under my roof and in my bed.
That kind of declaration was a lot to throw at a woman in the middle of the night, so he backpedaled. “I think it would be better for Cora to have some continuity. She’s already moved once, and she seems to like it here. Besides, I have a yard for her to play in.”
“She’s only three months old, Dylan. We’ll leave Silver Glen before she even starts walking.”
“I care about you,” he said baldly, his hands shaking. “And about Cora. My house is still a healthier atmosphere for a baby than a cramped apartment over a bar. Promise me you’ll think about it.”
Her head pillowed on his arm, she yawned. “I care about you, too, Dylan. So I’ll consider it. I promise. Go to sleep now. We can talk about this tomorrow.”
* * *
When Mia woke up the next morning, Dylan was gone. Again. But this time, she knew he had spent the night in her bed. Shortly before dawn, he’d made love to her one last time.
It was anybody’s guess as to where he was at the moment.
After pulling on clean undies and her robe, she went to fetch Cora, her limbs protesting every step. Much of her body was pleasantly sore, but any discomfort she experienced was offset by an almost palpable sense of well-being. She felt satiated and smug.
Dylan had told her he cared about her. It was a lot from a man who guarded himself so carefully. And she had been brave enough to reciprocate without worrying about getting hurt.
Cora was not a great conversationalist, but Mia engaged her anyway. “Dylan wants us to stay, little one. He loves you and he likes me. So we’re going to enjoy the moment. Okay with you?” She took the baby’s chortle as a sign of agreement.
Glancing at her watch, she decided to prevail on Gertie’s good nature once again. She found the older woman occupying her customary morning post, frying bacon and scrambling eggs. “Good morning, Gertie.”
“I suppose it is,” Gertie said with a grin. “Did the baby sleep?”
“She did. One brief feeding in the middle of the night, but that was it, thank goodness.”
The housekeeper set a plate on the table and motioned to Mia. “Eat it while it’s hot.” Mia, with the baby on her lap, wolfed down a double serving of both bacon and eggs and topped it off with one of Gertie’s homemade biscuits and jam. It was embarrassing how hungry she was. Normally a cup of yogurt and some coffee would see her through the morning, but after last night’s sexual excess, she was starving.
When Gertie finished up the last of the bacon and set it on a paper towel to drain, Mia suddenly realized that Dylan might not have eaten yet. Casually, she took a sip of her orange juice and fished for information. “Did Dylan head into town already?”
Gertie shook her head. “Nope. He’s out back getting the boys started.”
“The boys?”
“He gives jobs to boys in the foster-care system. Mostly yard work and the like. And he tells them if he ever catches them spending their paychecks on drugs, he’ll tear them limb from limb.”
“And they believe him?”
“Oh, yes. Mr. Dylan can be fierce when he needs to be. Everyone sees him as this laid-back, good-natured fellow, but he’s got strong opinions and strong beliefs about right and wrong. Look how he brought you and the baby here to his house. He could have settled you in a motel room somewhere, but that wouldn’t have been right. That boy’s moral compass points due north. I know his mama raised her sons to be responsible, but Dylan takes it a step farther. He’s a gentleman and a provider. He’ll always look out for the weak and the helpless and the ones who’ve been given hard knocks.”
As Mia finished her breakfast, she felt some of her euphoria winnow away. In the middle of the night when Dylan had asked her to stay longer than originally planned, her heart had flipped in her chest. Mentally, she had heard the word care as love. Dylan wanted to get closer to her. He wanted to pursue their burgeoning relationship, sexually and otherwise.
Now, in the cold light of day, and with Gertie’s passionate analysis of Dylan’s personality, it seemed more than likely that Dylan’s invitation had been the result of altruism. Her mood deflated like a cheap balloon. She gave herself a mental pep talk. Nothing had changed. Cora and Mia still had a home. Mia had a job.
Best of all, Mia was sharing Dylan’s bed for the moment. She had never expected more than that. So why was she now feeling disappointed and low?
Wiping her mouth with an elegant cloth napkin, she gave Gertie a beseeching smile. “Would you mind playing with her for twenty minutes while I grab a quick shower?”
“You know the answer to that.” Gertie took the baby with alacrity. “Go do what you need to do. Me and this little lady will entertain each other.”
Mia crossed the house toward the wing that housed her suite and Dylan’s. As she passed his doorway, an unwelcome thought occurred. When Gertie went to tidy her boss’s room and make his bed, she would see that the bed hadn’t been slept in. The woman was smart enough to put two and two together. Surely she would guess that Dylan had been in another bed. Very close by.
Stealthily, Mia opened Dylan’s door. She had never been inside. The furnishings and decor were equally as luxurious as hers, but the colors were more masculine. Lots of navy and burgundy. Rapidly, she went to the huge bed and threw back the covers, twisting them until they looked like the remnants of a good night’s sleep.
One by one, she plumped the pillows. She even knocked one onto the floor for good measure. Satisfied that she had done her best, she turned to leave and ran smack into the bed’s owner.
“Dylan,” she squeaked, feeling as guilty as if he had caught her raiding his safe.
The flash of white teeth in his broad grin added further color to her hot cheeks. “Whatcha doin’, little Mia?” He crossed his arms over his chest. Since he was blocking her only exit, his stance surely wasn’t coincidental.
“I, uh...” Well, shoot, she might as well fess up. “I didn’t want Gertie to know you hadn’t slept in your bed.”
His lips twitched, but he didn’t laugh. “I’m a grown man,” he said, his voice deceptively mild considering the predatory gleam in his eyes. “Gertie doesn’t weigh in on my slee
p habits.”
Before she could defend herself with additional rational explanations, Dylan reached out and stripped her out of the thin robe she wore.
She shrieked and batted at his hands. “Are you nuts? We’re not alone.”
With a calm she couldn’t emulate, he turned and locked his door. “Gertie took the baby for a walk. I want you again, Mia.”
The even tenor of his words didn’t match the hot, intent gaze that took in every inch of her body. She didn’t know why she was embarrassed. He had seen it all last night. Had touched it and kissed it and...
He cut short her mental gyrations by scooping her into his arms. But he didn’t walk toward the bed. Instead, he pushed her against the nearest wall. Her legs went around his waist automatically. “Dylan, we can’t.” It was a weak protest at best, and he took it as such.
“A quickie, Mia. You’ve heard the term, I’m sure.” Without letting her fall, he unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants and freed his stiff erection. After one-handedly rolling on a condom, he bit her earlobe. “Hang on, honey. This is going to be hard and fast.”
Before she could utter a word, he reached between her legs, thrust aside the thin cotton crotch of her undies and pushed inside her, all the way to the hilt.
Beyond the window, Mia could hear the voices of the young men working in the yard. Birds sang. A lawnmower roared. But in Dylan’s beautifully appointed bedroom, there was no talking. He took her roughly, urgently, as if it had been months instead of hours since they had mated. His breath smelled of coffee. He tasted like bacon and orange marmalade. His big, tough body held her aloft easily.
She hadn’t been prepared for this. No foreplay. No wooing. Which made it all the more mortifying when she climaxed wildly, even before Dylan had finished. The culmination of her pleasure galvanized him. Ramming into her with low groans, he jerked and cursed when his own release found him moments later.
Mia knew her bottom would be sore tomorrow from being pummeled against the wall. But she couldn’t seem to care. The novelty of having a man go insane with lust in her presence was a powerful analgesic.
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