She showered and shaved and dried off, telling herself she wasn’t getting all pretty for Daniel and knowing that was a lie. She cracked open the bathroom door but didn’t hear any sounds from Marie, so she closed it again and found a blow dryer.
When she had her hair looking decent, she pulled the robe back on and went to the guest room. She found a tank top, along with a pale peach tunic shirt and another cardigan, this one longer and a soft gray. There was even a pair of riding boots—real leather. And the crazy thing was, it all fit. She tucked the jeans into the boots and zipped them up, the calf just making it closed.
Layers were good. Layers would hide her lumps and stretch marks. Layers would protect her from Daniel’s intense gazes.
Another lie. Because the layers of nightgown and robe last night hadn’t done a darned thing to slow them down.
Doyle had been gone by the time she was six months pregnant. But the two months between finding out she was pregnant and Doyle bailing on her had not been a time of great intimacy and togetherness. The moment she’d become a news story, Doyle had started putting space between them. In public, he had stood by her side and held her hand—but in private...
They’d barely spoken. She’d been with him and yet not with him at the same time and she had known long before she had come home to the empty apartment that she had lost him.
She’d been alone since then—but she was too drained at the end of the day to feel sorry for herself. Self-pity was a luxury she simply didn’t have the time or energy for. And in all honesty, she hadn’t missed the sex. Well, she’d missed the crazy sex she and Doyle had had when they’d first hooked up. But not the lifeless going-through-the-motions sex that had marked their last months as a couple.
But last night, Daniel holding her like she meant something to him—she hadn’t felt completely alone in the world.
That was all it took to make her revert back to her wild ways, apparently. Five minutes in the kitchen and she’d all but dragged him to his couch and had her way with him. For Pete’s sake, they hadn’t even made it to a bed. They hadn’t even gotten undressed.
And now she had to go out there and face him, wearing clothes he had purchased for her. He would probably try and tell her how nice she looked again and she would struggle to accept a compliment.
She listened hard, but couldn’t hear any fussing from Marie. If Christine was going to face this man, it was going to involve under-eye concealer.
Finally, dressed and ready for whatever the day held—she didn’t even want to think about the possibilities—she tiptoed into Marie’s room.
Only to find that the crib was empty.
Oh, crap. She flew out of the bedroom, torn between stark panic and the logical explanation that Marie couldn’t have gotten out of the apartment and probably hadn’t done anything as deadly as stick a fork in an electrical outlet.
Christine skidded into the living room and came to a dead halt when she saw Daniel, sprawled out on the couch, Marie resting on his chest. A thick throw was tucked around them and in one hand, Daniel held a book. The other rested on Marie’s stomach, keeping her from rolling off.
Marie was telling him the story and he was listening.
Oh, it simply wasn’t fair how perfect he was. Never mind the fact that Christine hadn’t had a date in twenty months. Never mind the fact that she might not have another date for another twenty months, if ever.
Daniel Lee was in the process of ruining her for any other man. He was too handsome, too rich, too good at sex—but that wasn’t the issue. No, the thing that was going to be the death of her was the way he held her as if she was precious to him, the way he was saying, “Oh, really?” every time Marie looked up at him.
He was taking care of her and her daughter and Christine wasn’t an idiot. She knew exactly how rare both of those things were.
No one else would ever meet this impossibly high bar that Daniel Lee was setting. If she weren’t careful, he would make her fall in love with him and then where would she be?
He looked up, his gaze meeting hers and she could feel his mouth against hers, feel the hard planes of his body pressing into hers. She could feel the physical pain of loneliness all over again and it scared her because she knew what would happen if she let that rule her. She’d spent a good six years chasing away that loneliness and she had been paying the price for it since.
So it was settled. She was absolutely not going to fall in love with Daniel Lee.
“Good morning,” he said in his silky voice. He looked rumpled, his hair mussed from where she’d driven her fingers through it.
She swallowed hard, trying to remember who she’d been before she’d straddled him. On this very couch.
Hell. At least he and Marie were sitting on the far side, a good ten feet from what had happened last night. “Good morning. How is everyone today?”
Marie looked up at her, grinning wildly. Christine could tell that her daughter was still a little fuzzy from sleep, her hair sticking out wildly on all sides. But the baby made no move for Christine to pick her up from Daniel’s chest. If anything, Marie seemed to burrow deeper.
A sound came from the kitchen behind her and she jumped in surprise. “Don’t worry,” Daniel said quickly. “It’s only the maid.”
She blinked at him. “Oh, of course. Only the maid.”
He slanted a smile in her direction and then, without breaking eye contact, leaned down and kissed the top of Marie’s head. “Sunny has some coffee going and she’s making breakfast, if you’re interested.”
“Coffee would be good.” It would be great. She needed something to help her make sense of this world she found herself in. She felt a little like Alice having stumbled through the looking glass, where nothing made sense.
Sunny, it turned out, was a young Korean woman and she was pulling a pan of fresh-baked muffins out of the oven. She nodded shyly at Christine.
“Thank you,” Christine said as the smell of the muffins—blueberry?—hit her nose. “Is there coffee?”
The young woman crinkled her eyes as if she didn’t understand completely, but she pointed at the coffeepot and Christine nodded, hoping she was being encouraging and not patronizing. “Yes, thank you.”
Strangely, the maid’s presence reassured Christine. With another person in the apartment, she didn’t think there’d be awkwardness about what had happened last night.
Sex. Angry sex. Great angry sex.
“I need to talk to you,” Daniel said right in her ear.
She spun around, nearly clocking Marie upside her head. “What?”
Daniel said something in Korean to Sunny, who smiled and bobbed her head as she rushed forward to lift Marie from Daniel’s arms and carry her over to the high chair.
Daniel slid his hand under Christine’s arm and pulled her close to the windows. “About last night...”
“Do you have to make this awkward?” Although, given the way his thumb was rubbing little circles on the inside of her elbow and given the way she wanted to do nothing more than throw herself at him again, it appeared there wasn’t any way to make this not awkward. “Or are you going to throw this back in my face as concrete proof that you were right about me two years ago?”
His face hardened and he said in a low voice, “Yes, I have to make this awkward. We didn’t use a condom.”
Flames licked up the side of her face—that’s how hot her cheeks burned. “Oh.” She dropped her gaze to where he was still holding on to her and his hand fell away. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I think I’m entitled to worry about it. What if, Christine?” he asked, which was both touching, that he cared whether or not he got her pregnant, and infuriating all the same and she didn’t know why.
Of course he didn’t want to get her pregnant. Because if he did, he’d be tied to her forever, his name dragged through the mud with hers. Another baby would simply be another problem to manage.
“I have an IUD. I can’t get pregnant,” she blur
ted out. Daniel’s eyebrows shot up at this, so Christine lowered her voice. “I had one put in after Marie was born. I couldn’t risk another surprise pregnancy. Which is funny, since last night was the first time I’ve had sex in...”
Her voice trailed off because she made the mistake of looking up at him. Instead of shocked or angry, his mouth had curved up on one side. Was he smiling? At her?
Darn his hide. “So don’t worry about it,” she whispered angrily, stepping around him and heading back to where Marie was banging on the high chair tray.
In short order, Christine had eggs, bacon and fresh blueberry muffins to go with some of the best coffee she had ever had in her life. Daniel followed her to the table and they sat down to eat as if this were an everyday occurrence.
Was this just how it was going to be? Everything was the best when it came to Daniel. The best food, the best clothes, the best apartment—and who could forget the best sex?
She exhaled heavily, trying not to be angry at Daniel or at the situation or at life, in general. She wasn’t sure she was making it, though. Last night, she’d done something selfish. And wonderful. Was it wrong if she didn’t want to face any fallout from that?
As Marie made headway into destroying her muffin, Christine decided to cut straight to the chitchat. “So, what are we doing today? Just hanging out here?” It would be peaceful and quiet and there was a lot to be said for that right now.
“We can,” Daniel replied. “But we have another option. If you want to, there’s the Chicago Children’s Museum down at the Pier. We could take Marie.”
Christine gaped at him, wondering if she really had fallen through the looking glass. “Didn’t you tell your mother that we were trying to lie low last night? I didn’t hallucinate that, did I?”
He shrugged, looking completely innocent. It didn’t look right on him. “It’s one of those big areas with lots of fun things. It’ll be crowded and noisy on a cold day like today. Everyone’s going to be paying attention to their kids—not to each other. But we can stay in if you’d like. Natalie won’t get here until about six tonight.”
She looked out the expansive floor-to-ceiling windows where the maid was now wiping Marie’s fingerprints off everything. If they stayed in all day, her daughter would continue to destroy this pristine apartment. But if they went to a children’s museum...
“You don’t think we’ll get caught?” She winced at how juvenile she sounded.
But he didn’t react as if she had said something dumb. “We didn’t get caught at your church—and those were people who knew who you were. I think you’re relatively safe here.” She must’ve frowned or something because he added, “If I didn’t think it was safe, I wouldn’t suggest it. It’ll be fun.”
She eyed him. “You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who has a lot of fun.”
Something in his gaze shifted, sending tingles of electricity racing down her back. “I know how to have a good time.” His voice came out husky and deep and her body responded.
Oh, how it responded. Her nipples tightened and her pulse raced and she was right back to where she’d been last night, wanting to climb him like a tree in the kitchen and hold him down on the couch.
They needed to get out of this apartment. “We can try the museum.” Because someplace loud and crowded and focused on a small child—she wouldn’t be thinking about the way his eyes darkened when he looked at her or wondering if he looked as good without clothing as he did fully dressed.
No, no—she wasn’t thinking about what his body looked like or how it’d felt under her hands or on top of her. Or in her. Or what might happen tonight after Marie went to bed.
She shifted in her chair. Nope. Not thinking about any of it.
“It’s a date,” Daniel said with a smile that bordered on wicked and Christine had to wonder how true that was.
* * *
Even when Daniel dressed down, he was sinfully gorgeous. Really, no one man should be able to make sweaters look that good—but Daniel did. Effortlessly.
What was ridiculous was that Daniel was crawling through a tunnel, chasing a squealing Marie and looking like he was having the time of his life. He wasn’t normal, Christine realized. Normal men did not take an interest in other men’s children. Normal men did not happily play with little girls. Normal men didn’t...
Christine was off to the side, keeping an eye on the action in the tunnels from the ground. In that moment, she looked around and she saw something that surprised her.
There were a lot of men playing with a lot of children in this museum. Daniel by no means stuck out. What if Daniel was normal? Okay, overlooking the condo and the jet and the cars—what if he was a regular guy on the inside? What if...
Her father had never really played with her. She couldn’t remember a single time she and her dad had done something fun together. Children were to be seen and not heard. Spare the rod and spoil the child.
She mentally flipped back through the few photo albums she’d studied before she’d left home for college. She’d known then that she’d never return because she couldn’t live with her father’s dictates for her behavior, her dress—the way she fixed her coffee, even. He had some ideal of what a daughter was and it’d been obvious that Christine wasn’t it. She never would be.
She didn’t remember a single photo of him holding her like Daniel had been holding Marie this morning. Not even when she was a baby. All the pictures were of her mother and Christine.
She wondered if Donna Murray would’ve liked Daniel. Her mother had been dead for almost ten years and in that time, Christine had learned to live with the loss. But now Christine couldn’t help but wonder what her mom would’ve thought about all of this.
What if Daniel was normal and all the other men Christine had known weren’t? What if Doyle was the aberration because he didn’t want his own child? And her father—well, he was a megalomaniac.
Lost in thought, she watched Daniel carry Marie back to her as if they were walking out of a dream. What if this was a new normal?
Christine realized just from looking at her daughter that Marie was about ten minutes away from a total fun-based meltdown. Christine checked her phone—it was already eleven forty-five.
“Lunchtime—and then nap time.” When Marie fussed at this announcement, Christine knew it was time to go.
Predictably, lunchtime was a disaster. Marie did not want to leave the museum. She did not want to sit in a high chair. She did not want to be quiet. She didn’t want Christine to hold her. She wanted Daniel, who had been upgraded from “anal grr” to “my anal.”
Daniel did his best to help, but his mere presence only wound Marie up more and finally, Christine had to ask him to step back. She closed the door to Marie’s room and sat in the glider with Marie in her arms, riding out the storm.
It took almost half an hour, but Marie finally cried herself out. Even better, Christine was able to get her into the portable crib without waking her up. She laid her daughter down and Marie rolled over, sound asleep.
Thank God. For a moment, Christine debated just curling up in the bed next to the crib and zoning out.
But then she thought of Daniel. At this very moment, he was somewhere in this condo, effortlessly making a sweater look hot. Would he be waiting on her, or would he merely be thankful that the screaming had stopped?
If she walked back into his living room, would he look at her like a woman or a problem?
She found him on the couch, toggling between a laptop and a cell phone. Crap, he was working. She started to back out, but he looked up.
“I didn’t mean to bother you,” she said quickly. “I’ll let you get some work done.”
He’d taken so much time off to fly her across the country and entertain her daughter. She didn’t know how much longer this little time-out was going to last, but she couldn’t expect him to put his entire life on hold because of her.
“Christine?” His voice stopped her and she turned back. He�
�d closed the computer and set it on the coffee table.
“I’ll go. I should nap.” It had been such a crazy couple of days and she was supposed to do an interview this evening. “I’ll go,” she said again, as if saying it would make it true.
It didn’t. Because Daniel was already moving, his long legs effortlessly closing the distance between them. He looked at her with naked want.
“Stay,” he said and then his hands were on her, sliding around her waist and pulling her into his chest. “Stay.”
And fool that she was, she did. Last night, she’d taken what she’d wanted from him like a brazen hussy. Because that’s who she was—who she’d always been. Desperate and needy and shamelessly chasing the high of a climax, no matter the cost. And Daniel had just...taken it. He’d taken everything she’d dished out—the anger, the lust, the need.
But today? Today, Daniel was in charge. She could feel it in the way his mouth moved over hers, the way his hands roved over her backside, pushing her closer to him. If she had half a brain, she’d stop this and go take that damned nap. Because she didn’t need this and she didn’t need him. All she needed was to know that her daughter was safe. Nothing else mattered.
“I want you,” he growled against her neck—and then his teeth bit into her skin.
“Daniel,” she moaned, digging her hands into his sweater and holding him close.
No. A moment of panic spiked through her. She couldn’t do this. This wasn’t who she was, not anymore. She was Christine Murray, loan processor and mom. Nothing more—and certainly not the kind of woman a man like Daniel went for.
She shoved him back, her chest heaving as if she’d run up all sixty-seven flights of stairs. “We can’t do this.” When he notched an eyebrow at her, heat rushed to her face and she added, “Again.”
Daniel’s hands slipped up her back and over her shoulders, stroking her lightly. “Why not?” he asked, his voice deceptively innocent. “We’re two consenting adults. I enjoyed last night. I thought...” His hands stilled. “I thought you did, too.”
Billionaire's Baby Promise (Mills & Boon Desire) (Billionaires and Babies, Book 79) Page 12