Reluctant Father

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Reluctant Father Page 8

by Diana Palmer


  "She doesn't seem that sensitive at first glance, but she is," she replied. "I noticed it that first day, at the children's shop, and again when she played with Danielle. I gather she was neglected a lot before they sent her to you."

  "I got the same feeling. She had a nightmare just after she came here," he recalled quietly. "She woke up in the early hours, screaming her head off, and when I asked what was the matter, she said they wouldn't let her out of the closet." His face hardened, and for an instant he looked relentless. "I've still got half a mind to send my lawyers after that housekeeper."

  "A woman that cruel will make her own hell," Meredith said. "Mean people don't get away with anything, Blake. It may seem that they do, but in the end their meanness ricochets back at them."

  "The way mine did at me?" he asked with a mirthless laugh. "I scarred you and pushed you out of my life, married Nina, and settled down to what I thought would be wedded bliss. And look where it got me."

  "You've got everything," she corrected. "Money, power, position, a sweet little girl."

  "I've got nothing except Sarah," he said shortly. His green eyes glittered in the faint light. "I thought I needed money and power to make people accept me. But I'm no more socially acceptable now than I was when I was poor and illegitimate. I've just got more money."

  "Acceptance doesn't have anything to do with money." She stared down at the big, warm hand clasping hers. "You're not the world's most sociable man. You keep to yourself and you don't smile very much. You intimidate people." She smiled gently, her eyes almost loving despite her reluctance to give herself away. "That's why you don't get a lot of social invitations. This isn't the Dark Ages. People don't hold the circumstances of their birth against each other anymore. It's a much more open society than it was."

  "It stinks," he returned coldly. "Women propositioning men, kids neglected and abused and cast off…"

  "They don't burn witches anymore, though," she whispered conspiratorially, going up on tiptoe. "And the stocks have been eliminated, too."

  His face cracked into a reluctant smile. "Okay. You've got a point."

  "Who propositioned you?" she added.

  He cocked his head a little to study her. "A woman at the workshop in Dallas I just came back from. I didn't believe she meant it until she put her room key in an ashtray beside my coffee cup."

  "What did you do?" she asked, because she had to know.

  He smiled faintly. "Took it out and handed it back." He touched her cheek gently, running a lean finger down it. "I told you on the porch. I don't want anyone but you."

  She lowered her eyes to his chest. "I can't, Blake."

  "I'm not asking you to." He let go of the hand he was holding. "I'm archaic in my notions, in case it's escaped your notice. I don't seduce virgins."

  Her body tingled at the thought of making love with Blake. It was exciting and surprising to know how much he wanted her. But her own conscience wasn't going to let her give in, and he knew that, too.

  "I guess you'd rather I got my autographing over and left town…" she began.

  He tilted her chin up so he could see her face. "Sarah and I are going on a picnic Saturday. You can come." The suddenness of the invitation made her blink.

  "Saturday?"

  "We'll pick you up at nine. You can wear jeans. I'm going to." Her eyes lifted to his. "Blake…"

  "I like having things out in the open, so there aren't any more misunderstandings," he said simply. "I want you. You want me. But that's as far as it goes, and there won't be any more of what happened on my porch tonight. I'll keep my hands off and we'll give Sarah a good time. Sarah likes you," he added quietly. "I think you like her, too. She could use a few good memories before you go back to the life you left in San Antonio."

  So he was going to freeze her out. He wanted her, but he wasn't going to do anything about it. He wanted her for Sarah, not for himself, despite his hunger for her.

  She hesitated. "Is it wise letting her get used to me?" she asked, her voice echoing the disappointment she felt.

  His hand on her chin became faintly caressing. "Why not?" he asked.

  "It will be another upset for her when I leave," she said.

  His thumb moved over her lips, brushing them, caressing them. "How long are you going to stay?"

  "Until the first of the month," she said. "I do the autographing a week from Saturday."

  His hand fell just in time to keep her from throwing herself against him and begging him to kiss her. "Then you can spend some time with Sarah and me until you leave. I won't force you into any corners and we can help Sarah find her feet."

  Her eyes searched his night-shadowed face. "Why do you want me around?"

  "God knows," he muttered. "But I do."

  She sighed audibly, fighting her need to be near him.

  "Don't brood," he said. He didn't smile, but there was something new about the way he was looking at her. "Just take things one day at a time and stop analyzing everything I say."

  "Was I doing that? Okay, I'll try." She wished there were more light. She managed a smile. "Good night, Blake."

  "Go on. I'll watch you."

  She left him standing there and went running down to the house, her heart blazing with new hope.

  If there was any chance for her to have Blake, she'd take it willingly, no matter what the risk. She now understood the reasons for his actions. And if she went slowly and didn't ask for the impossible, he might even come to love her one day. She went to sleep on that thought, and her dreams were so vivid that she woke up blushing.

  Six

  Meredith was awake, dressed and ready to go by eight on Saturday morning, with an hour to kill before it was time for Blake and Sarah to pick her up.

  Bess, an early riser herself these days, made breakfast and smiled wickedly at her friend.

  "It must feel strange to have Blake ask you out after all these years."

  "It does. But I'm not kidding myself that it's out of any great love for me," she said, neglecting to tell Bess that Blake's main interest in her was sensual. All the same, just remembering the way he'd kissed her Wednesday night made her tingle from head to toe. And he'd shared secrets with her that she knew he'd never tell anyone else. That alone gave her a bit of hope. But she was afraid to trust him too much just vet. She needed time to adjust to the new Blake. She sighed. "I haven't been on a picnic in years. And I'm looking forward to it," she confessed with a smile, "even if he only wants me along because Sarah likes me."

  "Sarah's a cute little girl." Bess sighed. "Bobby and I are ready to start a family of our own, but I can't seem to get pregnant. Oh, well, it takes time, I guess. Do you want something to eat?"

  "I'm too nervous to eat," Meredith said honestly, her eyes still soft with memories of the night before. "I hope I'm wearing the right thing."

  Bess studied her. Jeans, sneakers, a white tank top that showed off her pretty tan and emphasized her full, high breasts, and her dark hair loose around her shoulders. "You look great," she said. "And there's no rain in the forecast, so you should be fine."

  "I should have slept longer," Meredith wailed. "I'll be a nervous wreck… Oh!"

  The jangling of the telephone startled her, but Bess only smiled.

  "If I were a gambling woman," Bess said as she went to answer it, "I'd bet my egg money that Blake's as nervous and impatient as you are." She picked the receiver up, said hello, then glanced amusedly at Meredith, whose heart was doing a marathon race in her chest. "Yes, she's ready, Blake," she said. "You might as well come get her before she wears out my carpet. I'll tell her. See you."

  "How could you say that!" Meredith cried. "My best friend, and you sold me out to the enemy!"

  "He isn't the enemy, and I think Blake needs all the advantages he can get." Bess's smile faded. "He's such a lonely man, Meredith. He was infatuated with Nina and he let himself be suckered into marriage without realizing she only wanted his money. He's paid for that mistake enough, don't you think?" />
  "There are some things you don't know," Meredith said.

  "I'm sure there are. But if you love him in spite of those things I don't know, then it's foolish to risk your future out of spite and vengeance."

  Meredith smiled wearily. "I don't have the strength for vengeance," she replied. "I wanted to get even for a long time after I left here, but when I saw him again…" She shrugged. "It's just like old times. I can't talk straight or walk without trembling when he gets within a foot of me. I never should have come back. He's going to hurt me again if I give him an opening. After what Nina did to him, he's not going to make it easy for any woman to get close. Least of all me."

  "Give it a chance," Bess advised. "Nothing comes to us without some kind of risk. I've learned a lot about compromise since Bobby and I almost split up a few years ago. I've learned that pride is a poor bedfellow."

  "I'm glad you two are getting along so well."

  "So am I. I went a bit bonkers over my sexy brother-in-law for a while, but Elissa came along and solved all my problems," Bess confessed with a grin. "King Roper has a gunpowder temper, if you remember." Meredith grinned, because she did. "I couldn't stand up to him, but Elissa didn't give an inch. Not that they do much fighting these days, but they had a rocky start."

  "She's so sweet," Meredith murmured. "I liked her the minute I met her."

  "Most people do. And King would die for her."

  Those words kept echoing in Meredith's brain as she sat in the car, with Blake behind the wheel and Sarah chattering away in the back seat. She looked at Blake's taut profile and tried to imagine having him care enough to die for her. It was a forlorn hope that he'd ever love her. His reserved nature and Nina's cruelty wouldn't let him.

  He glanced at her and saw that sadness in her eyes. "What is it?" he asked.

  "Nothing." She smiled at Sarah, who was looking worried. "I'm just barely awake."

  Blake lifted an eyebrow as the powerful car ate up the miles. "That explains why you were up and dressed at eight when I said we'd be at Bess's at nine."

  "I couldn't sleep," she muttered.

  "Neither could I," he replied. "Sarah was too excited to stay in bed this morning," he added, just when Meredith was breathless at the thought that the memory of the way he'd kissed her had been the reason he didn't sleep.

  "I'm so glad you came, Merry," Sarah said, hugging her new Mr. Friend stuffed bear in the back seat. "We'll have lots of fun! Daddy says there's a swing!"

  "Several," he returned. "Jack's Corner has added a new park since you were here," he told Meredith. "It has swings and a sandbox and one of those things kids love to climb on. We can sit on a bench and watch her. Then there are plenty of tables. I thought we'd pick up something at one of the fast food stores for lunch, since Amie wasn't around to fix a picnic basket."

  "Did she call?"

  "Yes. Her sister is recovering very well, but it will be at least two weeks more before Amie comes back."

  "How are you managing?"

  "Not very well," he confessed. "I'm no cook, and there are things Amie could do for Sarah that I'm not comfortable doing."

  "Daddy won't bathe me," Sarah called out. "He says he doesn't know how."

  A flush of color worked its way up Blake's cheekbones and Meredith felt the embarrassment with him. It would be hard for a man to do such things for a daughter when he'd rarely been around a woman and never around little girls.

  "I could…" Meredith hesitated at his sharp glance and then plowed ahead. "I could bathe her for you tonight. I wouldn't mind."

  "Oh, Merry, could you?" Sarah enthused.

  "If your father doesn't mind," she continued with a concerned glance in Blake's direction.

  "I wouldn't mind," he said, without taking his eyes from the road.

  "And you can tell me some more stories, Merry," Sarah said. "I specially like 'The Ugly Ducking'."

  "Duckling," Blake corrected, and he smiled faintly at his child. "I guess that story fits both of us, sprout."

  "Neither of you," Meredith interrupted. "You both have character and stubborn wills. That's worth a lot more than beauty."

  "Daddy has a scar," Sarah piped up.

  Meredith smiled at the child. "A mark of courage," she corrected. "And your father was always handsome enough that it didn't matter."

  Blake felt his chest grow two sizes. His gaze darted to Meredith's face and he searched her eyes long and intently. As she was feeling the effect of that glance, he forced his eyes back to the road barely in time to avoid running the car into a ditch.

  "Sorry," Meredith murmured with a grimace.

  "No need." He turned the car down the street that led to the city park and pulled it into a vacant parking space.

  "It's beautiful," Meredith said, looking at the expanse of wooded land with a children's playground and a gazebo. There was even a fountain. At this time of the day, though, the area was fairly deserted. Dew was still on the grass, and as they walked to the benches overlooking the playground, Meredith laughed as her sneakers quickly became soaked.

  "Your feet are getting wet," Sarah said, laughing, too. "But I have my cowgirl boots on!"

  "I think I can spare your feet," Blake murmured.

  Before she realized what he intended, Blake bent and whipped Meredith off the ground, carrying her close to his chest without any sign of strain.

  "Gosh, you're strong, Daddy," Sarah remarked.

  "He always was," Meredith said involuntarily, and her eyes looked up into Blake's, full of memories, full of helpless vulnerability.

  His arms contracted a fraction, but he didn't look at her. He didn't dare. He could already feel the effect that rapt stare had on his body. If he gazed at Meredith's soft, yielding face, he would start kissing her despite the small audience of one watching them so closely.

  He put her down on the sidewalk without a word and moved to the bench to sit down, leaning back and crossing one booted foot over his jeans-clad knee. "Well, sit down," he said impatiently. "Sarah, play while you can. This place probably fills up in an hour or so."

  "Yes, Daddy!" Sarah said and she ran for the swings. Meredith sat down beside Blake, still glowing and warm from the feel of his arms and savoring the warm, cologne-scented fragrance of his lean body. "She's already a different child," she commented, watching Sarah laugh as she pumped her little legs to make the swing go higher.

  "She's less wild," Blake agreed. He took off his hat and put it next to him on the bench, pausing to run his hand through his thick black hair. "But she isn't quite secure yet. The nightmares haven't stopped completely. And I've had less time to spend with her lately. Business goes on. A lot of jobs depend on the decisions I make. I can't throw up my hands and stay home every day."

  "Sarah likes Amie, doesn't she?" Meredith asked.

  "Amie won't be here for several weeks, Meredith," he said impatiently. "That's what I'm worried about. Monday morning I've got a board meeting. What do I do with Sarah, take her along?"

  "I see your problem." Meredith sighed, fingering the face of her watch. "Well… I could keep her for you."

  He didn't dare let himself react to that offer, even if it was the second time in a day that she'd volunteered to spend time with Sarah. It wouldn't do to get his hopes up too high.

  "Could you?" he asked, and turned his head so that his green eyes pinned her gray ones.

  "All I have to do is the autographing," she said. "And that's next Saturday. The rest of my time is vacation."

  "You'd need to be at the house," he said with apparent unconcern. He pursed his lips, watching Sarah. "And considering how late I get home some nights, it's hardly worth rousing Bobby and Bess to let you in just for a few hours. Is it?"

  She colored. "Blake, I don't care if this is the nineteen eighties, I can't move into your house."

  He glanced at her and saw the rose-red blush. "I won't seduce you. I told you that Wednesday, and I meant it."

  The blush deepened. She averted her gaze to Sarah and he
r heart shook her with its mad beat. "I know you won't go back on your word, Blake," she whispered. "But it's what people would think."

  "And you're a famous author," he said, his eyes narrowing. "God forbid that I should tarnish your reputation."

  "Don't start on me." She sighed miserably and got up. "This isn't a good idea. I shouldn't have come…!"

  He got up, too, and caught her by the waist, holding her in front of him. "I'm sorry," he bit off. "I've never given a damn what people thought, but I guess when you aren't looked down on to begin with, reputations matter."

  She looked up at him with soft, compassionate eyes. "I never looked down on you."

  His jaw clenched. "Don't you think I know that now?" he asked huskily. He pulled her hand to his chest and smoothed over the neat pink nails, his eyes on her long fingers. "You were always defending me."

  "And you hated it," she recalled with a sad smile. "I always seemed to make you mad—"

  "I told you," he interrupted. "I wanted you, and I didn't know how to handle it. I knew it was impossible to seduce you, and I'd given my word that I was going to marry Nina." His shoulders lifted and fell. "It wasn't conscious, but afterward when I thought about what I did to you that day, I thought maybe it would be easier for you if I made you hate me." He looked up into her gray eyes with quiet sincerity.

  Her face felt hot. She searched his hard expression for a long moment. "I suppose in a way it was," she said finally. "But it undermined my confidence. I couldn't believe any man would want me."

  "Which worked to my advantage," he whispered, smiling faintly. "Because you weren't tempted to experiment with anyone else." The smile faded. "You're still a virgin. And your first man, Meredith, is going to be me."

  Her heart stopped and then ran wild. "That's the most chauvinistic—"

  He stopped her by simply lowering his head until his lips were almost touching hers. She could taste his coffee-flavored breath and the intimacy of it made her knees feel rubbery. "I am chauvinistic," he whispered. "And possessive. And hard as nails. I can't help those traits. Life hasn't been kind to me. Not until just recently."

 

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