His features darkened and then his eyes narrowed. "I don't know your plans, Vicki. But it's clear Clara liked having you here today. We'll figure out a schedule that works, but she's my responsibility."
She forced herself to stay still. She swallowed, dropped her arms, and refused to fight with him. He was willing to share with her, and that was a good start. "You've done an amazing job. Clara is happy, secure, and she knows who she is and what she wants."
He exhaled deeply. "Good, because I don't need more fighting in my life. I've done enough of that."
Whatever he'd done as a Marine haunted him. For a moment, he stepped closer to her, and she could smell his sexy aroma. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it. "Look, clean up. You're messy. I'll start dinner."
He pulled his hand away, but his light smile told her he was relaxed too. "Yum. More burned food."
"Shut up, Collins. You know you can't live without me." Sashaying her hips out the door, she gave him her back.
He placed his hand on her hip, and she froze. She swallowed, turned around, and then lifted her gaze to meet his. But his eyes didn't gleam. He stared at her with cold eyes. "I fell for that one that summer..."
"It's not a line." She'd not dig up the past. Not now. Instantly, she wrinkled her nose, and admitted, "It just slipped out."
He scowled and his face went white, like he was guilty of something. She shrugged, and he ran his hand through his hair as he turned to leave. "It worked, though. Go make dinner. I'll get cleaned up and help you in a minute."
Whatever his problems were with her would be dealt with. She turned away again, and didn't know what to say. She decided to follow his orders, because if she told him she still had dreams about him, she'd dig herself a hole outside right now and let the storm kill her. Colt's nearness and warm skin on her hers sent tingles throughout her body.
She told herself that Colt was engaged and she was here for her daughter, not romance. If she said this enough, perhaps the words might stick in her heart.
CHAPTER FIVE
"No."
Who said that? Vicki opened her eyes and sat straight up in bed. The voice had been male. The rain outside the window pelted the shutters. Quietness ruled the house at this moment. She rubbed her eyes, blinked, and her mind stayed cloudy until a question hammered in her brain. Had Colt yelled?
Thunder cracked in the air, and Vicki swung her legs onto the cold wooden floor. Once again, his voice grew deeper as he yelled, "I said no."
Questions flashed through her mind. Her throat constricted. Were they in danger? She'd have to get Clara. In a flash, she threw her blankets off her, and her feet smacked on the floorboards. The shutters rattled and the storm raged outside as she ran at full throttle to the other side of the living area.
Silence greeted her ears. In the dark house, nothing stirred. Her racing heart grew calmer as she peeked into Clara's room.
Her daughter slept peacefully.
At least nothing stirred here. Then Colt's voice echoed in the halls. "No."
Clara didn't wake.
Vicki's skin electrified. He pleaded, as if he was hurt, and she turned toward his room. With her ears alerted to every swish of the wind howling, she heard nothing but silence. Was he asleep? She fingered the fabric of her oversized tee shirt in her hands, as she cracked open his door. A softer grumble echoed in her ears.
He must be having a nightmare.
She let her tee shirt go and pushed the door open all the way. Colt needed to stop. He'd wake Clara. They were all safe. Still at his door, she knocked, but he didn't stir.
Her heart thumped as he thrashed his head on the pillow and his voice cracked with pain. "No."
Her heart swelled. She tiptoed close to him and saw his muscular frame twisted in his sheets. He struggled in his nightmare. His forehead was covered with sweat. With her arm crossed over her chest, she took in a deep breath and decided fast. Perhaps the wind and the rain and the temperature changes affected him. The ache in her throat told her that she couldn't let him get sick.
As she tucked the sheets that he'd throw off around him, she leaned over him. She didn't know what to do, but the deep lines of fear on his brow melted her heart. Then, as she rearranged his pillow for more comfort, she brushed his shoulder and realized he was burning hot. She must have been right. He might have a serious fever. She felt his forehead and inhaled.
Now was not the time to be sick. The hurricane outside could be dangerous, and they might need his strength. His head flipped to the other side of the pillow and he let out a moan. She'd never been a nurse, but she had to do something. She rushed to the bathroom, found a washcloth, and wet it. Coolness would help him. As she made her plan, her gaze sharpened and her hands became surer. Then she ran to his bed, brushed his forehead with the cool, wet cloth, and hoped she soothed whatever heated him.
At first, strong hands tugged at hers to pull off the towel, like her presence was what he fought. He tugged her to his chest, but she held firm. Again he yelled out, "No."
The smell of oak and oranges overwhelmed her, and her body softened. If only... No. She shouldn't go there. Instead, she bit her lip and only let go of the towel when he stopped moving. He must be having a calmer dream. Her legs felt weak, and she closed her eyes as she sat on the edge of his bed.
She intended to stand, but then he reached lower on her body and hugged her waist. If only she had made different choices. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek as she fixed the cloth on his head. He tugged her lower, and his hard muscles sent a hum in her blood. His fingers traced her lower back, and she bucked to get off him. "Colt, it's me. It's Vicki."
His body didn't press so hard, but her yearning for him grew before his lips claimed hers. His full lips tasted better than wine, and a sigh escaped her. Her hands inched up to his shoulder to push him away. Her mouth opened to say something, but the embers of desire coursed through her. She returned his kiss and her lips tingled. Her hands that had fought him decided to play with his hair, and stroke him.
In a minute, he'd wake up and stop.
Until then, her body heat made her uncomfortably hot too. Had the storm taken out the air conditioner? His husky groan of desire returned her mind to her predicament, and she tried to sit. He tugged at her top of her panties and boxer shorts she'd borrowed to sleep in. She loosened his grip and bolted away from him, but then he sat up. She pressed her hand with the towel that had been on his head, but he tilted his head and kissed her again. All she could do was moan out his name as he deepened his claim on her lips.
The torrid ache inside her grew, but she stood and let him go. As she stared at him, she realized she clutched the towel in her fist.
Without a sound, he rolled backward, but almost fell off the bed. She placed her hands on his chest to steady him and ensure he lay down straight. The thump of his heartbeat played against her palm, and heat rushed through her.
How had he not woken?
Her body reddened from desire now, but she had an extra layer of mortification.
She brushed his hair and checked his temperature. His forehead seemed cooler now. With her feet planted on the ground, she sighed and thought she should go. He slept peacefully. She turned and slid out of the room.
Thunder cracked in the air as the wind rattled the shutters. She ignored the hurricane and returned to her room, where she slammed her door shut. The sound was louder than she'd intended, and her heart thumped faster. With luck, no one woke up now.
To calm her jumpy nerves, she stood behind the door in her room and covered her mouth. Colt, the man of her dreams for years, still sent her body off course, and he had no idea what had happened. With luck, he'd never remember. She swallowed and ran her hand through her hair. The deepness of his sleep and the nightmares he had kept him knocked out. In the morning, she'd have to face him.
Her father had once said, to her brother Peter as he always spoke to the oldest son, that life was too short to regret anything.
She closed
her eyes. She'd never manipulate to get her way. She was not someone who betrayed everyone's trust. She was not her father. With her hands clenched, she fought a tear of regret. She'd never steal, and Colt had promised another woman marriage. She must have a beautiful diamond ring that symbolized his commitment. If she had a symbol of his love, she'd never take it off. Vicki's bare fingers ached, and she rested her head on the door to let the thoughts go.
Nothing moved. With a bolt of energy, she breathed and let the tingle in her chest grow. Visions of a stolen life flashed in vivid color in her head, and Vicki closed her eyes. Every limb in her body shook. She opened her eyes. With heavy steps, she took one footstep at a time toward the bathroom. She'd not sleep, and maybe water would wash away her whimpers.
Her cold body sweat made her uncomfortable, but she splashed water on her face. The cold, clean water relaxed her.
The lightheadedness went away in the steam of the shower. In the morning, she'd have to find a way to face Colt. Tomorrow, she'd stare up into his sexy brown eyes and handsome face... She coughed uncontrollably.
The lights flickered as she stepped out of the shower. The howl of the wind rattled the shutters. Vicki wrapped her towel around her fast. The hurricane must be getting worse. She threw her tee shirt back on, and covered herself with the towel. Thirty seconds later, she heard a crash and sat. In that second, the house and everything inside went black.
Total darkness of a room without any windows surrounded her. She stood and wished she'd asked Colt for a flashlight. She knew better, but she had to check on Clara again. With one ginger step after another, she made it to the door and stumbled forward into her bedroom.
Without warning, the door opened as a light shone in her room.
"Vicki?" Colt asked. "Are you okay?"
How was he now awake? She blinked and gritted her teeth. Then she bunched the t-shirt lower, as her legs and panties were showing. "Yeah. I was in the shower. Do you have a flashlight to give me?"
He tucked his hands in his pocket and rocked on his feet. His face was red. "I mean, did something just happen? I had a strange dream."
Seriously? He asked now? Her toes curled, and she lost her ability to breathe. Her chin trembled, and as she started to speak, a squeak came out instead. "No. Nothing extraordinary happened, but I could use a light to get dressed."
Why had she said that?
He turned and left the doorframe. The small light from the open door helped her reach around her bed to find her boxer shorts. She fumbled, and almost fell face first onto the bed, but she braced herself. Finally she slipped the boxers on and returned to the door and the light that shone in the living room. Colt waited for her. Her lips curled as she stared into Colt's sexy eyes.
"I should have knocked, Vicki. You're right. And I...errr...did bring you a flashlight." He took a tentative step forward and placed it on the dresser near the door. She smelled oak and oranges, and the smell alone sent a beam of light through her that calmed her nerves. She pressed her lips together as he stepped into the living area again. Then, without looking at her, he ran his hands through his hair. "I need to be sure, and you always say no at first. Did something happen between us earlier?"
Oh God. She gulped, crossed her arms, and said in a high-pitched voice, "What do you think happened?"
He crossed his arms too, shook his head, and then closed his eyes. "I'm not sure. I must have been having a dream. Forget it."
The door closed, and she hyperventilated.
She squeezed her eyes shut, fell onto her bed, and curled into the fetal position. Her lips, aching from pleasure earlier, now shook with embarrassment.
"I have to tell him the truth." Her voice evened, and she nodded to herself. A kiss was just a kiss, and her father's lessons shouldn't haunt her. Until Colt returned, all her growth to be a better person had to stand for something, but she refused to become someone she wasn't.
At the door, she picked up the flashlight and followed him out.
The hall was pitch black, and no one stirred. "Colt?"
He didn't answer. She flashed her light to his bedroom door, and saw the door was closed. He must have gone to sleep.
Delay wasn't good. She stood still, unsure what else to do, but he needed sleep. More wind and rain shook the shutters. Who knew what the outside was like once the storm cleared? Finally, she turned on her heels and went to check on Clara and then go to bed. In the morning, they'd talk.
#
Much later, she had fallen asleep. The house stayed dark, but she struggled in her bed. Her skin was sticky now that the house was warming like an oven with no air conditioning. Vicki sat again, and her ears perked up to hear any noise. None came.
The storm must have passed, or they were in the eye. There was nothing she could do to change the temperature. Was the house still asleep?
She stretched on her feet. She missed sunlight and cool air. As she left her room, she found her flashlight, and stalked to the kitchen. Again, quietness greeted her ears. No one was up. With no electricity, she couldn't make herself coffee, unless Colt had the camping gear out. She twirled the flashlight, but saw nothing. So instead she reached into the refrigerator to retrieve a box of cereal. Like most people in South Florida, Colt kept the open food in the fridge to avoid attracting ants.
As she closed the door, she stopped. The milk would go bad soon, so she took it out of the fridge.
Sighing, she found a bowl and made herself breakfast.
Her daughter might want cereal with milk, so she left it on the table. Clara was why she was here, not Colt. Today she told him the truth, and she'd have to keep her priorities in check. His kiss wasn't meant for her.
She munched on the cereal. Last night shouldn't have happened, and she'd make sure she never kissed him again.
CHAPTER SIX
Colt woke up in a cold sweat. Last night he'd had the most visceral dreams he'd experienced in a long time. And once again, Vicki Morgan starred in his most erotic dreams and memories. Her sweet smell of flowers, and lips that tasted like rosewater had his body reeling. He cupped his head and listened to the morning rain.
The last woman he should touch was Victoria. He rubbed his eyes, and his mind raced to his fiancée, Belle. She'd have him up and on an assignment. The image of Vicki laughing with Clara then popped in his head.
His skin was sticky as he stretched his arms. His battery-powered alarm clock read four in the morning, and the wind outside shook the shutters. Belle would murder him if he called her right now, but if he let his head return to his pillow, he'd have more traitorous dreams of the beautiful blonde who slept in the next room.
The storm pummeled against the house and made the walls shake. There was nothing to do but wait. The power was out, but his Wi-Fi might still work. The laptop was fully charged. With something to do, he stood, but his unwelcome erection reminded him of his teenage years. He ignored his body and told himself he was a grown man and responsible father.
He grabbed his laptop and sat on his office chair in his bedroom. The laptop turned on fast, and flashed fully charged. Once he clicked the Wi-Fi, he realized that yes, he still had the internet. He held his breath and clicked into his social media. With worldwide assignments in his past, someone he knew was always online. His eyes widened with the messages that were in his inbox. His mother was still typing messages. He hoped they were safe during the hurricane as he clicked her name then typed, Mom are you and Dad okay?
The storm is keeping me up, but we're fine. How are you and Clara?
Fine. Mom... At least they still had a roof and that physically everything was okay. He took a deep breath as his heart calmed to a normal pace. Then he typed, Vicki is here too.
She's where?
At the house with us.
Both she and her father both tried to throw Clara away. Why is she there and when is she leaving?
Mom, her dad stole Clara. Vicki didn't know.
And you believe her?
Did you go see her in
the hospital the day you found Clara?
No, I wasn't allowed anywhere near her.
The perimeter around Vicki that day meant that she probably told the truth. He sighed and rubbed the back of his head as he stared at the words on the computer. Neither of them typed anything for a moment. Finally, he typed, I believe her, and part of you believes her too.
I'd prefer to speak to her in person and see for myself. Then we'll figure it out as a family, son. Does Belle know she's there?
No. I tried to call her, but she was in a meeting.
Belle is a nice girl.
So is Vicki, Mom.
If she was nice, she'd have called you years ago, son. Don't fall for sweetness when she showed up for cameras to take her picture at her father's funeral. I taught you to look at things from all sides before making your choice.
Colt typed out what his gut told him. My bigger issue isn't Vicki, it's Belle.
Why?
Belle wants me to move to DC. And I don't wear a suit and tie.
She knows who you are and loves you. Give her time. You've taken on the farming corporation, and being a lobbyist in Washington is not a long-term career for any woman that might want a family.
Belle's a go-getter and always has been. She won't change that for me and I don't want her to. She was so different to Vicki, who laughed and joked with him. Clara had the same sparkle of optimism and fun, and here, with Vicki, he felt at home. Mom, I'm going to need you to forgive Vicki. I secretly dated her, slept with her, got her pregnant, and then took her father and brother's word she didn't wish to see me ever again. I should have tried harder. She was pregnant with my child, and I had no clue.
Son, don't throw your future away because you're feeling guilty over the past.
His heartbeat was steady and sure. He wasn't feeling guilty. He was at ease and at home now. His lips still lingered with the taste of rose water, and his mind recalled his dreams where he held Vicki in his arms. He typed his last comment. We're fine. I make my own decisions, and Belle is coming down in a few days so we can talk in person. I'm not moving to DC, but I'm glad you and Dad are both holding up in the storm. Good night.
Secret Baby (The House of Morgan, #2) Page 6