Baby Wishes and Bachelor Kisses

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Baby Wishes and Bachelor Kisses Page 12

by Valerie Parv


  “And you never wondered how he knew so much about this particular dollhouse?”

  “He was a craftsman who made me my first dollhouse, so I knew they were a hobby. I guess I thought it was the reason for his interest. When he spoke about the Frakes Baby House he made it sound so wonderful that I promised myself I would see it when I grew up. I never asked why he found it so interesting.”

  Nicholas’s expression hardened. “The house brought him to Yarrawong, but it wasn’t what made him keep coming back. He must have begun his affair with my mother almost from his first visit. He’s your mother’s brother, isn’t he?”

  She nodded. “His name is Seth Baker.”

  A shadow darkened his features. “Under the circumstances, I’ll never forget his name, although I didn’t know anything about the man himself. My mother’s relative remembered enough about the affair to give me a few leads so I was able to establish his relationship to you. Because his surname was different from yours, I had no reason to connect him with you when we first met.”

  She felt his anger as a living vibration traveling through her body which reacted like a tuning fork to his touch. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Nicholas. I swear I had no idea.”

  His look intensified. “You can’t think I blame you for his actions? You weren’t responsible any more than I was. If anyone’s at fault it was my father for neglecting his marriage and creating a climate where my mother felt driven to seek love from another man.” Nicholas brushed the hair back from her face with one hand, letting his fingers linger in the soft curls. “I thought once I told you I’d found out, it would make things better between us. But nothing’s changed, has it?”

  She took a step back, missing the warmth of his embrace almost as soon as the gulf widened between them. She was shaken by his discovery but, in a way, relieved. She had loved Uncle Seth and felt betrayed when he left to live overseas. Now she understood why he and his new bride had been compelled to begin a new life elsewhere.

  She was glad Nicholas didn’t hold it against her, but it wasn’t the secret she was keeping from him, so nothing had really changed. If only it was the problem, everything would have been solved. But by being so understanding Nicholas had actually made it harder for her to walk away.

  “I’m glad you told me,” she said quietly.

  “But it doesn’t help, does it?” he anticipated, coldness sharpening his tone. The darkness in his eyes told her he’d been counting on the news to perform a miracle between them. A miracle is what it would take for her to decide to stay.

  For one brief moment she wondered if she was being fair to him. He had talked about his love of children and his dream of a large family without knowing her situation. If he knew, he might be willing to give up his plans in exchange for a future together.

  She hugged herself. It was precisely why she wasn’t prepared to tell him. The thought of Nicholas rejecting her was beyond contemplating. Worse still would be his willingness to understand, to sacrifice his dream for her. She couldn’t allow him to do it.

  Her smile felt fixed. “I explained my reasons for wanting to return to Melbourne. They haven’t changed.”

  The silence deepened, then he fished in his briefcase and pulled out a sheaf of papers so old they were the color of parchment and almost as brittle. “Then it’s just as well I brought these for you.”

  She took the papers from his hand, and their fingers brushed, igniting the familiar flare of awareness deep inside her at his touch. Focusing on the papers helped her to fight temptation. “What are they?”

  His look reflected her sudden leap of desire as if he would also like to sweep the papers aside and take her into his arms. Her stomach tightened in anticipation but he said, “They’re the plans to the Frakes Baby House. My legal adviser had them filed among the family papers.”

  Instead of fueling her elation, his generosity made her feel worse. “These are the original plans. They must be valuable.”

  “They’re on loan for as long as you need them.” He cleared his throat. “If you offer copies to your readers as a premium, it should lift circulation somewhat.”

  She gasped. “Somewhat? Have you any idea of what a find like this would mean to a serious collector of miniatures?”

  He gave a cynical smile. “I’m glad I finally found a way to get you excited.”

  If he only knew, he had done that almost from the moment they met. His offer wasn’t nearly as breathtaking as his closeness. She was enveloped in the lingering aura of his expensive aftershave lotion, and his suit sleeve brushed her arm. With her heightened sensitivity she could have described the fabric by touch alone. One turn was all it would take to bring them together. She made herself think about the plans. “It’s a generous offer, but I can’t accept.”

  His impatient breath whistled between them. “Why on earth not? It’s what you want, isn’t it, a way to make your journal into a big success?”

  “It is what I want,” she agreed because he expected it. The truth couldn’t be more different. “But not this way.”

  His mouth became a hard slash. “Because you don’t want anything more to do with me?”

  “Good grief, no.” It was out before she could stop herself. The answering gleam in his eyes was almost her undoing until she dragged in a deep breath to resist the surge of pure physical sensation clawing at her. “I mean I’m thrilled to have the chance to publish the original plans to the dollhouse, but won’t it create too much interest in the house? I thought you didn’t want enthusiasts beating a path to your door.”

  “I can cope. I’m a big boy,” he reminded her dryly.

  Of all the ways he could have phrased it, did he have to choose the one guaranteed to send her imagination into overdrive? In her sensitized state, his size and masculinity were his two qualities least in doubt. “You’d risk having hordes of collectors besieging your home, to help me?”

  He frowned. “One of us has to get our priorities straight. I care about you, and if the way to demonstrate it is to drag that blasted dollhouse back into the spotlight, then I’m willing to do it.”

  How far was she willing to go on his account, was the implied question. To the end of the earth and back, was the answer. She was already doing it, but her success depended on him not knowing the extent of her sacrifice. She affected a careless shrug, although her heart felt as if it was being squeezed in a vise. “Then I can’t refuse such a generous offer although I don’t know how I can ever thank you.”

  He gave her a measured look. “I can think of a way.”

  So could she, and alarm shrilled through her at the thought of kissing him again. Since he got home she had endured the sweet torment of imagining his arms around her as she pressed herself against him and the sensual heat of his body radiated through her. It had taken every ounce of restraint she possessed to maintain her distance. Even a simple thank-you kiss would be playing with fire.

  There was only one way she could keep from revealing how deeply she had started to care for him. Kiss him as if it meant nothing more than appreciation of his generosity. She pulled in a steadying breath, raised herself on tiptoe and pressed her lips against his cheek. Or it would have been his cheek if he hadn’t turned his head at the last moment.

  Instantly what should have been a chaste peck, over in seconds, turned into a lingering exploration of her lips. Desire flamed to the depths of her being. Almost without conscious thought she slid her hands up and linked them around his neck.

  The gesture pulled his head down, and he nuzzled the side of her neck, nipping teasingly at her earlobe until the room temperature started to climb. Her clothes suddenly felt constricting and her heart rate soared.

  “It’s hot in here,” she protested weakly, fairly sure that the weather had nothing to do with the heat wave pouring through her.

  His fingers tangled in her hair. “I could arrange for it to get a lot hotter. You know I want you, Bethany. And no matter how you try to disguise it, I’m
positive you feel the same way.”

  So much for keeping secrets from him, she thought despairingly. She should have known that kissing him for any reason was flirting with danger. With Nicholas there were no chaste kisses. They were the kind to get a woman well and truly caught, something she couldn’t allow for both their sakes.

  She started to wriggle free, which was another mistake. It brought her body into closer contact with his and she felt her face flame at the realization of how ready he was to turn up the heat between them.

  An old maxim leaped into her mind—if you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen. That’s what she had to do, get out of the kitchen before her remaining resolve went up in smoke. She flattened her palms against the thickly padded muscle of his shoulders. “Nicholas, we have to stop this.”

  His mouth moved provocatively against her hairline but he pulled back a little and searched her face. “Why? We’re both free and well past the age of consent. If you’re worried about all those babies I told you I wanted, there’s no hurry. I’ll make sure you’re protected until we both agree the time is right.”

  His promise was meant to reassure her, but unknowingly, he plunged her into the depths of despair. She couldn’t deny she wanted him, but he had just restated the overwhelming reason why giving in to it would be a mistake.

  Get out of the kitchen, she reminded herself. She pushed herself free, aware of the tousled state of her hair and clothing and her rushed breathing. “I’m sorry, Nicholas.” There was nothing more she could think to say.

  He let her go, and his arms dropped to his sides but his fingers curled into fists. “The time will never be right for you and me, will it, Bethany?”

  “It’s better this way,” she said miserably.

  “Because of your commitment to your work?” She nodded and he made a furious sound of denial. “Since when does having a career require a vow of celibacy? The world is full of two-career families.”

  Family being the operative word where he was concerned. She was saved from having to respond by Maree crying, the sound of her babyish distress amplified through the intercom that connected the other rooms with her bedroom.

  Bethany thrust a hand through her hair, lifting it from her scalp, which tingled where his fingers had wandered through it. “I’d better go to her.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  Why couldn’t he let her make a graceful exit? Thanks to the last few minutes she felt overheated and very, very aroused. She was achingly aware of him as he followed her down the vaulted hallway to the bedroom that had been made into a light, airy nursery for Maree. Nicholas’s brother and sister-in-law had decorated it in anticipation of the baby’s arrival, Nicholas had told her.

  As a result the decor reflected their love and commitment to their child, with glossy white furniture in the Federation style, and hand-painted murals decorating the walls. On the high ceiling was a painted blue sky speckled with fluffy white clouds. The room was practically a shrine to all the reasons why Bethany could never belong here.

  Her own concerns were pushed aside as soon as she touched the baby. “She’s burning with fever.”

  He slid in beside her and touched the back of his hand to Maree’s forehead. “You’re right. Stay with her while I get a thermometer.”

  He was back in minutes, but they seemed like hours as Bethany cradled the distressed child in her arms. Maree’s face was flushed, although her skin felt dry. Her pulse raced and her breathing sounded labored.

  When Nicholas checked the child’s temperature it was several degrees above normal. Bethany began to remove Maree’s clothes. “Get me something wet to wrap her in, a sheet or a towel.”

  When he brought it, she swathed the baby in the damp folds then asked him to turn on a ceiling fan to direct cooling air over Maree’s fevered body.

  He did as she asked. “What’s the matter with her?”

  “I’m not a nurse, but it looks like she got too much sun today. As soon as we get her temperature down we should take her to the hospital.”

  “How in blazes could this happen?”

  She winced, knowing he wouldn’t like the answer. “The only time she was exposed to the sun was while Lana insisted on having them pose together.” She turned agonized eyes to him. “It’s my fault for letting them use Maree in their pictures.”

  He shook his head. “It isn’t your fault. I should know Lana well enough by now. Wild horses can’t shift her once she gets an idea into her head. If anyone’s to blame it’s me for letting her through the front gate. I can guarantee it won’t happen again.” He caressed the top of the baby’s damp head. “Is it wishful thinking or does she feel a little cooler already?”

  Bethany checked the baby’s temperature again. “Her temperature is down a little. It should be safe to drive her to the hospital now.”

  He didn’t waste time. “I’ll bring the car around to the front door. You throw whatever she’ll need into a bag and meet me there.”

  It didn’t take long to get ready. As an afterthought Bethany added a few things she and Nicholas might need if there was a long wait at the hospital while Maree was checked over. Bethany’s sense of alarm was rapidly diminishing as the baby’s color improved and her breathing quieted, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

  “You’re too precious to risk, aren’t you, little one?” she murmured as she carried the baby and the bag out of the house. Nicholas strapped Maree into the safety seat and readily agreed when Bethany offered to ride in the back with her.

  Nicholas was shaken by the incident, she saw from the tense set of his shoulders and the grim way he gripped the steering wheel. “Is this her first real illness?” she asked him.

  In the driving mirror she saw him nod. “I was warned that babies go through all kinds of ailments.”

  “And most survive them all,” she said firmly.

  He remained unconvinced until a doctor had examined Maree and confirmed a mild case of heat stroke. “You did all the right things,” he assured Bethany. “Have you had some experience nursing children?”

  She nodded. “I’m an aide at the Infants’ Shelter in Melbourne.”

  The young doctor smiled and again complimented her on her first aid skills.

  “There was no real need to keep Maree here overnight. Young Doctor Sideburns said she’s fine now her temperature is back to normal,” Nicholas snapped when they returned to the waiting room after the baby was admitted to the children’s ward for observation.

  She regarded him curiously. “He’s only being cautious.”

  His face was cold and shuttered. “He was coming on to you.”

  It was extraordinary how elated his obvious jealousy made Bethany feel. She pushed the sensation away. “All the same, he did the right thing. By morning we’ll be sure nothing else caused her rise in temperature.” She stretched languorously. “Just what I need after today, a night spent in a hospital waiting room.” By mutual consent they had agreed to stay in town overnight, ready to take Maree home as early as they could next morning.

  “We don’t have to stay in the waiting room. There’s a hotel across the road, and their Vacancy sign was still up when we arrived.”

  She groaned aloud. “I can’t afford a hotel room. I’m broke.” On that morning she had sent her brother the first instalment on her printer’s bill.

  “My treat,” he insisted. When she started to argue, he silenced her with a shake of his head. “You were wonderful with Maree. It’s the least I can do to repay you.”

  “But you’re already paying me to take care of her.” In truth it was the prospect of spending a night at a hotel with him that shook her to her core. In his arms tonight she had barely managed to resist temptation. In a hotel, without the responsibility of the baby, she wasn’t sure she could keep saying no to him.

  “Then consider it a fringe benefit.” He picked up the overnight bag she’d packed in haste and steered her toward the door.

  The hotel did indee
d have a vacancy but there was a problem. At this late hour there was only one room available. “We’ll take it,” Nicholas stated without looking at her.

  She had been aware of his growing tension in the hospital. Now she saw his hand shake as he signed the register. Concern for him overrode her misgivings about sharing a room.

  “What is it, Nicholas? What’s the matter?” she asked when they were finally alone. The room wasn’t large, and it took a determined effort not to fix her gaze on the queensize bed which was the only sleeping accommodation.

  He went to the bar and poured himself a scotch with a splash of iced water. “Drink?” he queried, his voice deeper and huskier than she had ever heard it.

  “No, thank you. I’m more worried about you.” Then light dawned. “It’s Maree, isn’t it? It was just one of those baby things. She’ll be fine by morning, you know.”

  He downed the drink in one toss. “I know it now.”

  “Then what is it? Something’s bothering you. Your hands are shaking.”

  He looked down at them as if seeing them for the first time. She could see the effort of will he exerted to steady them but the faintest tremor remained. He dragged in a deep breath. “Tonight, I thought I might lose Maree,” he grated, closing his eyes.

  Her heart turned over. He had lost a brother and feared he was going to lose a niece as well. Without thinking she crossed the room and put her arms around him, resting her head against his shoulder. His body was rigid with tension and she felt his pain as if it was her own. “Maree is going to be fine. Would a good-looking young doctor lie to a woman he’s hoping to date?”

  As she’d intended her teasing tone pierced the armor of his memory and he cracked a slight grin. “Shows how much you know about good-looking young doctors.”

  “Fine, upstanding pillars of the community,” she continued in the same deliberately light tone.

 

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