“What part of ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ did you not understand?” she said in a burst of temper.
Reluctantly, Sean let his mouth clamp shut on his next retort and kept it that way until he’d parked in front of her apartment building. By the time he’d climbed out of the car and walked around to the passenger side, Tate was already out and pushing her seat back so she could reach the car seat.
“I’ll get her,” she said briskly.
“No,” Sean told her, taking her arm and moving her gently to the side. “I’ll take her in.”
She was angry, but Sean couldn’t tell if that was because he’d asked her too many questions or because of the subject of those questions. This marked the second time this evening he’d asked about Briana’s father and she’d clamped up with a frown that said this was a dangerous subject.
As he unsnapped the harness that held Briana in the car seat, he couldn’t help but stare down into her angelic face. What kind of man could walk away from her? At two years old, she was already beautiful, and Sean felt like he was suddenly falling head over heels for her. When he scooped her out of the seat, he held her close to his chest as he backed out of the car. Her scent was fresh and intoxicating. A scent he wasn’t familiar with but one he could quickly get used to. On instinct, he turned his face to her cheek and kissed her softly.
Behind him he heard the car door slam. By the time they came to the double glass doors that led to the lobby, Tate had come around to walk in front of him. She opened the door and held it for him. Her apartment was on the third floor, so she led the way to the elevators and pressed the button. On one shoulder she held Briana’s diaper bag. Her arms were folded across her chest—a chest that was more than ample, as he’d been treated to an irresistible view all night. He didn’t know the designer of her dress, because fashion wasn’t his thing. What he did know—no, correction, what he prayed—was that she had a closet full of them, because she looked great in it. When they stepped into the elevator, Sean couldn’t tell which one of these two had begun wrapping their fingers around his heart first, but he knew for a fact that he wasn’t finished with either one of them.
“Thank you,” she said tightly when they were once again inside her apartment. “It seems like I’m always saying that to you.”
“You don’t have to,” he told her when he stood in her living room. He’d noted she wasn’t big on furniture—not adult furniture, that is. There was no mistaking that a baby lived here, from the corner with her playpen to the opposite corner that held a bright green tub of toys. The living room was connected to the small dining area with its table and two chairs and high chair that held more stuffed toys.
“Which way is her room? I’ll put her to bed,” he asked.
“You don’t have to,” she said, mimicking him and then smiling at the coincidence. “I can take her from here.”
“Let’s try this again. I’d like to put Briana to bed, Tate. I’m not going to hurt her.”
Her questioning gaze kept him still, along with the fact that she hadn’t told him where Briana’s room was.
“What are you afraid of? That someone’s going to take her from you?”
“No!” she said quickly. “Her room’s this way.”
Sean walked behind her and entered another baby haven. From the Minnie Mouse border that stretched around the walls to the pretty pink canopy that covered the brown crib, he knew instantly that the child that lived in this room was loved.
“You have to change her first and put on her pajamas,” he heard her say.
Sean had never changed a baby in his life. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t do it. There was nothing he couldn’t do. That had been his mentality for so long that his fingers were already moving to remove the baby’s clothes before his mind knew what he was doing. Tate came up beside him, her soft perfume permeating the air, and Sean felt a clutching in his chest that was becoming all too familiar when he was around these two. She handed him a diaper.
“Tape’s on the sides. Place this one under the old one to avoid mistakes.”
“Mistakes?” he asked, looking at her.
She nodded.
“Oh yeah, mistakes.” He did as she said, placing the new paper beneath Briana’s bottom. He stripped the tape from the old diaper, removed it and fastened the new one in place. Painless, he thought with a smile to himself.
“Pajamas,” she said.
He took the pajamas out of her hand. They were lavender with yellow teddy bears. Cute, he thought as he slipped her feet inside first, then her arms. He was snapping it up the center when Tate reached over the crib and activated some sort of musical device. It was soft and low and sent reflections of slow-moving clouds along the ceiling of the canopy.
“She won’t stay asleep in the crib without hearing the music first,” Tate told him as she moved toward the door.
Sean stood there for a few more moments, looking down at the quietly sleeping baby. He could do this again, wanted to do this again.
“Goodnight, Sean,” Tate said from the doorway.
He cleared his throat and moved to the door. “She’s a wonderful child, Tate. You did good.”
She smiled. After a night of dodging his questions, looking worried and uncomfortable, she’d finally smiled.
And those dimples reached right inside Sean’s chest to grip his heart, fast and hard.
“She’s my best achievement,” she said finally.
“She’s pretty fantastic.”
He lifted a hand to her cheek and let it sit there as he stared at her. Words weren’t coming as fast as he would like, and that wasn’t normal for Sean. He always knew what he wanted to say and when he wanted to say it. But at this moment he didn’t.
“You should go,” she said, taking a step back so that his hand dropped from her face.
“What are you afraid of, Tate? Is it me? Or is it any man?”
“I’m not afraid of you or anyone else. I just don’t want what you do. I work for your company, and I’m grateful for this new opportunity you’re affording me. But that’s all there is between us. All there will ever be.”
Could such a cold blow come from a woman with such warm eyes and a mouth that had just been smiling at him? Obviously it could.
“So you’re afraid of getting involved with the boss?” he said, amending his question.
“I’m not afraid of anything,” she snapped.
“Really?”
He moved closer and she backed right into the hallway wall until there was nowhere else for her to go. Her arms shifted from her sides to a defensive stance folded over her chest. She took that stance often enough that he was beginning to read the warning signs. But they weren’t going to stop him, not this time. He pressed even closer. “Are you sure you’re not afraid of me? Of what I make you feel?” he whispered, lowering his face closer to hers.
“You don’t make me feel anything,” she said, but her breath was soft and airy.
“I don’t make you feel like you want to make love? Like you want my hands on your body, my lips on yours?”
She shook her head, her lips clamping tight as she swallowed.
“Prove it,” he said, touching his lips lightly to hers. “Prove you’re not afraid.”
His lips slid along hers once more.
“How?” she breathed against him.
“Kiss me. Just this once, Tate, kiss me.”
With slow, even strokes his tongue moved along her lower lip, touched the crease between and then swiped over her top lip.
“Sean,” she whispered.
And he took that as his cue. Delving deep and without remorse, his tongue touched hers in a scorching connection. His lips covered hers, his head slanted, hands grasping her shoulders. He kissed her like he’d never kissed any other woman in his life. Sinking, float
ing, sinking, drowning—that’s what it felt like to kiss Tate Dennison. She was pulling him in deeper even though her hands hadn’t touched him at all. Her head tilted opposite his, until her mouth was opening willingly, her tongue taking wantonly. And he indulged—damn did he indulge—in the sweetest torture he’d ever endured.
When her palms flattened against his chest, Sean pushed further, plunged deeper and was rewarded with her hungry moan as she pressed her body against his. He’d known it. And it wasn’t just his Donovan ego, which he was well aware that he possessed. No, this was true and honest desire. Tate wanted him as badly as he wanted her. She was proving that to him at this very moment.
Then she was pushing him away. Her palms pressed so hard against his chest that he was dazed for a few seconds.
“There. I proved it. Now you can go,” she said and slipped out of his grasp.
In a move that was most likely a disgrace to the men in his family, Sean stood there in a haze of thwarted desire. He couldn’t move, as his heart thumped against his chest. Then he gave himself a mental kick and headed for the front door, where she was already standing.
“I had a wonderful time tonight,” he said as he moved past her, close, but not close enough to touch. When he stood on the other side of the threshold, he turned to face her. “You had a good time, too. You can admit that tomorrow after you’ve had a chance to really think about it.”
“It’s just business between us, Sean. That’s all there can be,” she said adamantly.
But she refused to meet his gaze. And in that one act, she admitted more than he’d ever need her to say.
“There can be whatever we want. We’re both consenting adults. You just proved that. Good night, Tate.”
He was gone before she could respond.
And before either of them could realize they hadn’t been alone.
* * *
Tate had no idea what time it was when she heard Briana crying through the baby monitor for the second time that night. Throwing back the comforter, she decided she’d bring Briana into the bed with her for the duration of the night. Getting up every hour or so was going to make waking in the morning a task she didn’t want to deal with.
She was cooing when she scooped Briana into her arms. Pressing a cheek to her baby’s forehead, Tate checked for a fever. She’d done this twice already and was rewarded by the same result. No fever. Briana was dry and she’d had a bottle of milk the last time Tate had awakened with her. So all should be well. Still, her daughter had a steady whimper that was beginning to concern Tate.
“Maybe you’re getting another tooth,” Tate said, heading into her bedroom.
Briana’s head lay against her chest, whining as Tate slipped beneath the covers and lay back in her bed. She rocked Briana and hummed the lullaby that was on the mobile in her crib. And just when Briana had quieted and Tate was finally drifting off to sleep, the crash came.
It was loud and scared Tate right out of her sleep. She screamed, and Briana jumped and wailed. Glass shattered and Tate immediately reached for her cell phone. Punching 911 on the dial pad as quickly as she could, she kept Briana close and leaned to the side of the bed to collect her softball bat. It sounded as if it were the window in Briana’s room, but Tate wasn’t going to go and investigate. If she’d been alone she probably would have, but with her crying baby next to her, she wasn’t about to risk Briana’s safety.
“Someone’s breaking into my house,” she told the operator and rattled off her address.
Through the wall she heard cursing and furniture being knocked over. She held Briana tightly in one arm, the bat in the other hand. She was rocking and trying to soothe her child, when her own heart was hammering in her chest. Footsteps sounded in the small hallway, and Tate knew the intruder was now headed her way. With their safety in mind, she lay Briana in the center of the bed. It broke her heart to see her baby crying so loudly and hard enough to make her little cheeks turn red, but she couldn’t very well defend them both by sitting on the bed. She gripped the bat in both hands and walked slowly toward the door. When she was close enough, she locked it. Then she searched for something to put up against it.
She looked over at the bed, and Briana was attempting to scootch her body right off the side. When Tate took a step to grab her, there was a banging at the door. Tate jumped and held on to the bat even tighter. She stood with her legs spread slightly apart, ready to swing at whoever came through that door. Then she heard sirens and felt a small wave of relief. More cursing sounded as fists banged against her door so hard it shook the hinges.
“Get the hell out of my house!” she screamed on impulse, moving closer to the door. “I’ve got a gun, and the minute you walk through that door I’m shooting!”
The door shook again, this time as if it had been kicked.
“C’mon, you bastard,” she said, holding the bat like she was about to hit the game-winning home run.
There was more knocking, but it sounded farther off. The front door. She heard mumbled talking just before another crash sounded. Tate felt something on her leg and almost jumped right out of her skin. She almost cried when she looked down to see that Briana had waddled her way over to her and was now extending her arms so Tate could pick her up.
And that she did. She held her daughter tight against her as tears stung her eyes.
“Police! Anybody in here? This is the police!”
Tate heard the yelling but still didn’t move. How did she know for sure it was the police? Maybe the intruder had switched his tactics. She wasn’t opening that door.
It didn’t matter, because in a few seconds it was kicked in, the sound of splintering wood echoing in the room. She pushed Briana to her left side and lifted the bat in her right hand. There was no way she could get a good swing in this position, but Tate vowed she’d do whatever it took to defend her daughter.
In a blur, uniforms entered the room, guns in the air, arms extended.
“Don’t move! Don’t move!” they yelled.
“I live here,” Tate stuttered. “I called…you.”
There was clicking and audible releases of breath as arms were lowered and the officers came a little closer.
“Are you hurt, ma’am?”
“No,” Tate said, shaking her head.
Another officer came to her side, wrapped his fingers around her wrist. “You can let it go now.”
“What?” she asked, her voice sounding far off.
“The bat. Let it go, ma’am,” he instructed.
Tate looked at the bat and sighed. “Oh yeah.” She released her hold and the officer took the bat from her.
“Just you and your baby here, ma’am?” the officer standing in front of her asked.
She nodded.
“Okay, why don’t we get you out of here.”
“No. No. I live here,” she was telling them.
“We know, ma’am. But this is a crime scene now. We have to investigate. There’s a social worker on the way, so you can talk to her and she’ll find you someplace to stay tonight.”
“But I…this is my…” Tate didn’t know what to say.
All she knew for sure was that Briana was okay. She was still crying in Tate’s arms, but she was with her and she was okay.
Chapter 9
“So, are we meeting with the newest addition to our television show today?” Parker asked, walking into Sean’s office with Savian and Dion right behind him.
Sean had been sitting at his desk, computer on, papers from a file strewn across his desk, a cup of tepid coffee to his right. He hadn’t been doing a bit of work. The only thing he’d been able to think about this morning was Tate. Her smile. Her quick wit. Briana and her chubby cheeks and laughing eyes.
“Who invited you in?” he asked the entourage that had descended on his office
.
“You know we don’t need an invite,” Dion said, leaning against the edge of Sean’s desk.
Unlike his brother’s office, which looked more like a hotel room with its deep-cushioned guest chairs, working table with six less comfortable chairs, mini refrigerator and water machine, Sean’s work abode was much more formal. He had a big office, of course, but his furniture leaned more toward the functional than the comfortable. The modern design made the most use of the space while allowing plenty of shelves to store his older volumes of the magazine as well as the manuals with their distribution history. His meeting table was round, with four high-backed chairs. He did have a water machine and refrigerator, he just rarely used them.
Parker had already taken a seat in front of his desk, his long legs extended and crossed at the ankle. Savian, who surpassed even Sean in seriousness, unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat down, his features as stoic as his cool demeanor.
“Did you schedule the meeting yet?” Dion asked. “I mean, a second meeting, since we already heard about the one that took place last night.”
“The one at which I’m sure only a minimal amount of business was conducted, if any,” Parker added with a chuckle.
He should have known. Nothing happened in his family without everyone knowing. Sean pinched the bridge of his nose and shifted forward to lean his elbows on his desk.
“Oh no, he’s worried about something,” Dion said with a groan. He lifted Sean’s coffee cup then put it back down with a frown. “You need to stay away from this stuff. Caffeine’s bad for the nerves.”
“I’m not worried, and my caffeine intake is just fine,” Sean answered.
“So what’s the status?” Savian asked. “I’d like to set up a development meeting with all the key players soon. We were hoping to have everything squared with ‘Ask Jenny’ this week.”
“She’s on board. We’ll need a new contract drawn up for her, one that includes child care and health care expenses.”
Savian frowned. “We provide health care for all our employees. Always have.”
Sean nodded. “I know, but I want to make sure it’s included in this new contract as well. Also, the child care. None of that cafeteria-plan crap. We need to pay for hers in full. She has an infant attending day care. Working on the show as well as keeping up with the column is going to require a shift in her work hours. I don’t want her to stress about child care in the process.”
Surrender to a Donovan (Kimani Romance) Page 7