Reluctant Father

Home > Romance > Reluctant Father > Page 10
Reluctant Father Page 10

by Diana Palmer


  "I guess she was afraid to," Meredith said. "She hasn't really had much security in her young life."

  "She's got it now. As long as I live, I'll take care of her."

  The pride and faint possessiveness in his deep voice touched Meredith. She wondered how it would feel to have him say the same thing about her, and she blushed. Blake might allow himself to become vulnerable with a small child, but she had serious doubts about his ability to really love a woman. Nina had hurt him too badly.

  They stayed another few minutes, and then Sarah announced that she needed to find a bathroom again. With an amused smile, Blake loaded them into the car and set out for a gas station.

  They drove around looking at the countryside until almost dark. Then they went home and Meredith helped Sarah get a bath. After that, she settled down by the child's bedside to tell her some stories before she fell asleep.

  She was halfway through "Sleeping Beauty," when Blake came into the room and sat down, legs crossed, in the chair by the window to listen. He was a little intimidating, but Sarah laughed and encouraged Meredith, and in no time she was lost in the fantasy herself.

  She told the child two more stories and Sarah's eyelids grew heavier by the second. By the time Meredith had started on "Snow White," Sarah Jane was sound asleep.

  Meredith got up, tucked the covers around the tired little body and bent impulsively to kiss Sarah goodnight.

  "That's another thing she's missed," Blake remarked as he joined her by the bed. "Being kissed good-night." He shifted, his hands in his pockets as he looked down at his daughter. "Showing affection is difficult for me." He glanced at Meredith. "My uncle wasn't the kissing sort." He smiled a little. "And I guess you know that."

  She laughed. "Yes. I remember. He was a sweet man, but he hated touching or being touched."

  "So do I," Blake replied. His eyes slid over Meredith's soft oval face. "Except by you," he added quietly. "I used to love to get cut up when you were here because you always patched me up. I loved the feel of your hands on my skin. I remember how soft and caring they were." He sighed heavily and turned away. "We'd better get out of here before we wake her up."

  It was obviously embarrassing to him to admit how much he'd enjoyed her doctoring. That was surprising. She hadn't realized until he'd said it just how many minor accidents he seemed to have had in the old days, when she was around. She smiled to herself. That was one more tiny secret to cherish in the years ahead, when these sweet days were just a memory and Blake was far out of her reach.

  "Why are you smiling?" he asked curtly.

  She looked across at him as she closed Sarah's door. "I was thinking how ironic it is. I loved it when you needed patching up because it gave me an excuse to get close to you." She colored a little as she averted her eyes.

  "Isn't it amazing how green we both were?" he asked. "Considering our ages. We weren't kids."

  "No."

  The atmosphere was getting tenser by the second. She could almost feel the hard pressure of his mouth on her lips, and the way he was watching her, with that single-minded level stare, made her knees feel weak under her.

  "How do you remember all those fairy tales?" Blake asked to relieve the tension that he was feeling.

  "I don't know. It's a knack, I guess. Blake, you really do need to get her some storybooks," she said.

  "You'll have to pick them out," he replied. "I don't know beans about what kids her age read."

  "All right. I'll see if Mrs. Donaldson has any in her shop. I noticed some books in the back, but I didn't take time to look at them."

  "I appreciate your help tonight," he said. "Some facets of being a parent are difficult. Especially dealing with frilly underwear and baths." He leaned against the wall, in no hurry to go downstairs, and his green eyes wandered slowly over Meredith's exquisite figure in the revealing button-up white tank top and well-fitting blue jeans. His eyes narrowed on that top because he didn't think there was anything under it and her breasts were hard tipped when they hadn't been a minute ago. "You're very maternal."

  "I like children. Shouldn't we go downstairs?" she added nervously, because she felt the impact of his eyes on her breasts.

  "Why? Do you suspect that I'm going to drag you into my bedroom and lock the door?"

  "Of course not," she said too quickly.

  "Pity," he remarked, shouldering away from the wall. "Because that's exactly what I'm going to do."

  And he did, quickly, smoothly and with deadly efficiency. Before Meredith had time to say anything, he had her in his room. He paused to lock the door and then lowered her onto the middle of the king-size bed.

  She lay there breathless, staring up at him, as he bent over her, one lean hand on either side of her head, his green eyes biting into hers.

  "How afraid of me are you, Meredith?" he asked quietly. "If I start making love to you, are you going to kick and scream for help?"

  Her lips parted as she looked up at him. She wasn't afraid of him at all. During the day, something had happened to both of them. The time they'd spent together had acted to bring them close. She knew more about him now than she ever had, and the thought uppermost in her mind was how much she loved him.

  Her eyes fell to his hard mouth, and she wanted it, and him, almost shockingly.

  "No, I'm not frightened," she said. "Because I know you won't hurt me or force me to do anything I don't want to. You said so."

  He seemed to relax a little. "That's true. I meant it, too." His eyes slid down her body, lingering on the thrust of her breasts against the tank top and the way her jeans clung to her rounded hips and long legs. "You can't imagine the effect you've had on me all day in that getup. Do you know how sexy you are?"

  "Me?" she asked with a faint, delighted smile.

  "You." He lifted his gaze back to collide with hers. "And you aren't getting out of here yet."

  She felt tiny tremors shooting up and down her spine at the delicious threat. "I'm not?" she asked huskily.

  He lowered himself down over her so that his chest was almost touching her breasts and his mouth was within an inch of hers. "No," he breathed. "You're not."

  Her hands slid up around his neck and her eyes dropped to his mouth. He smelled of cologne and she loved the feel of his shoulders and back under her hands, the hard muscles under the thin shirt. Her breath jerked out of her throat as she felt the warm threat of his body and tasted his coffee-scented breath on her lips.

  "Just relax," he whispered as his mouth brushed hers. "I won't hurt you."

  Her hands slid into his thick hair and she let her body sink under the warm weight of his chest as it pressed against hers. His mouth was slow and hungry, and she didn't mind when it began to probe inside her own. She'd never kissed anyone except Blake this way, and she loved the sensuality of it. She let his tongue enter her mouth and her hands clung as the new sensations ran like fire along her nerves and made her weak.

  She kissed him back, savoring the warm hungry mouth on hers. One of his hands supported her neck, but the other slid over her shoulder and suddenly covered her soft breast.

  She took an audible breath and he lifted his head, but he didn't remove his hand.

  "You're a woman now," he whispered. "And we've done this together once before. Except that this time, I'm not so green."

  "Yes." She touched his fingers, lightly brushing them, while her eyes looked into his glittering ones with building excitement. Her swollen lips parted. "You could… unbutton it," she whispered shakily. "I'm not wearing anything under it."

  She colored as she said it, and he realized how much courage it took for her to make him such an offer. Was she trying to prove that she trusted him, or could she feel the same hunger he did?

  His fingers slid to the buttons and slowly began to slip them out of the buttonholes. And all the while, he searched her eyes, held them. "Why aren't you wearing anything underneath?" he asked when he'd finished and the edges were still touching.

  "Don't you know, B
lake?" she whispered with aching hunger. She arched just a fraction of an inch.

  The invitation was as blatant as if she'd shouted it. He slowly peeled the edges of the tank top away from her full, firm breasts and let his eyes fall to them. They were as beautiful as they had been five years ago. A little fuller now, firmer. The color of seashells and rose petals, he thought dizzily as his eyes lingered on the hard tips that signaled her desire.

  "Have you ever let any other man see you like this?" he whispered, because it was suddenly important.

  "Only you," she replied, and her eyes were warm and soft, almost loving as they met his. "How could I let anyone else… ?" she asked huskily.

  "Meredith, you're exquisite," he bit off. His fingers brushed over one perfect breast lightly, barely touching it, and she cried out.

  The sound startled him. He stopped at once, scowling at her in open concern. "Did I hurt you?" he asked softly. "I knew you were delicate there. I didn't mean to be rough with you."

  She stared at him curiously, biting her lower lip as she tried to control the tremors he'd set off. "Blake… it didn't hurt," she said hesitantly.

  "You cried out," he said, his eyes steady and honestly worried.

  She colored furiously. "Yes."

  The scowl stayed as his hand moved again. His green eyes held hers the whole time while he stroked her gently, smoothed the hard tip between his fingers and cupped her in his lean, rough hand. And she whimpered softly and cried out again, her body shivering and lifting up to him.

  "Damn Nina!" he whispered roughly.

  Meredith was too drugged to understand what he'd said at first. Her whirling thoughts barely registered in her mind. "What?"

  "Never mind," he whispered huskily. "Oh, God, Meredith…!" His mouth went down against her breast, and she moaned, arching under him. The sound and her trembling drove him crazy.

  He kissed every soft inch of her above her hips, savoring both breasts, nibbling at her creamy skin, dragging the edge of his teeth with exquisite tenderness over her stomach and rib cage. And all the while his hands caressed her, adored her. He made a meal of her, and long before he lifted his head, she was crying and pleading with him for something more than he was giving her.

  He dragged air into his lungs, his eyes wild, his chest rising and falling raggedly as he looked down into her abandoned eyes.

  Her face fascinated him. She looked as if he was torturing her, but her hands were pulling at his head, her soft voice was begging for his mouth. She moaned, but not in pain. And the most exquisite sensations racked his lean body as he poised over her. "You want me," he whispered huskily.

  "Yes."

  "Badly," he continued.

  "Yes!"

  His hands smoothed over her breasts and she shuddered. His breath caught. "I never dreamed a woman could sound like that. I never knew…" He bent to her mouth and kissed it softly. "My God, she was suffering me, and I didn't even have the experience to realize it."

  "What?"

  He dragged himself into a sitting position, and when she made a halfhearted effort to cover herself he pulled her wrist away. "Don't do that," he said quietly. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life. I won't hurt you."

  "I know that. I'm just…embarrassed," she faltered, flushing.

  "You shouldn't be," he said firmly. "The first intimacy I ever shared with a woman was with you. And your first one was with me. I know what you look like. I've seen you every night in my dreams."

  She relaxed a little, sighing as she sank back on the bed. "It's just new," she tried to explain.

  "Yes, I know." He brushed his fingertips over a firm breast and watched her shiver with pleasure. "That's sweet," he breathed. "That's so damned sweet, Meredith." Her breath sighed out. "Blake…"

  "What do you want?" he asked, reading the hesitant curiosity in her eyes. "Tell me. I'll do anything you want."

  "Could you…unbutton your shirt and let me look at you?" she whispered.

  His blood surged in his veins. He flicked buttons open with a hand that was deftly efficient even as he trembled inside with the hunger she aroused. He moved the fabric aside, and when he saw the sheer delight in her eyes at the thick mat of hair over impressive muscle, arrowing down to his jeans, he stripped the whole damned shirt off and threw it on the floor to give her an unobstructed view.

  She held out her arms, and he groaned as he went into them, shuddering when he felt her nipples press against his chest as he crushed her into the mattress.

  "Blake," she moaned. Her arms clung and her lips searched blindly for his. She found them and kissed him with all her heart, feeling his mouth tremble as it increased its hungry pressure.

  He slid over her. His hands found her hips and urged them up against his, moving them against his rhythmically, letting her experience the full surge of his arousal.

  She was whimpering, and he felt his control giving. It would only take another few seconds…

  "No!" he bit off. He jerked himself away from her and rolled over, but he couldn't get to his feet. He lay there doubled up, while Meredith managed to get her trembling arms to support her. But she didn't touch him. He was shivering and she wanted to cry because she knew it was hurting him that he'd had to stop.

  "I'm sorry," she wept. "It's all my fault."

  "No, it isn't," he said through his teeth. He drew in sharp breaths until he could get himself under control. His body relaxed and he lay there for a long moment, fighting the need to roll over and strip her and submerge himself in her soft warm body.

  "I wouldn't have stopped you," she breathed.

  "I know that, too." He finally dragged himself up and ran his hands through his damp hair. His eyes darted to her half-clad body, softening as they swept over her full breasts. "Button your top," he said gently. "Or I'm going to start screaming my head off."

  She managed a shaky smile as she pulled her top together and buttoned it with trembling fingers. "You make me feel beautiful," she whispered.

  "My God, you are," he returned. His darkened green eyes held hers. "I can't begin to tell you what those sweet little noises you were making did for my ego. I didn't know women made noise or looked like that when they made love."

  She searched his eyes. "I don't understand."

  "Meredith," he began heavily, "Nina smiled. All through it, all the time. She smiled."

  It took a minute for that to get through to her. When it did, she went scarlet. "Oh!"

  "I hurt you, that first time," he continued. "So I didn't get any passionate response. I didn't have any other experience when I married Nina, so I thought women were supposed to smile." A corner of his hard mouth lifted ruefully. "But now I know, don't I?"

  Her face felt as if she might fry eggs on it. "I couldn't help it," she confessed self-consciously. "I never dreamed there was such pleasure in being touched by a man."

  He caught one of her hands and pressed its soft palm hungrily to his mouth. "The pleasure was mutual," he said, his glittering gaze holding hers. "I almost lost it. You let me hold your hips against mine, and I went crazy."

  "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I should have pulled away."

  "Are you supposed to be superhuman?" he asked reasonably. "I couldn't stop, either. Together we start fires. I wanted nothing more in life than to feel you under me and around me, skin on skin, mouth on mouth, absorbing me into you."

  She caught her breath and trembled at the words, seeing the quiet pride in his eyes when he realized the effect they had on her.

  "I want to make love to you," he whispered roughly. "Here. Now. On my bed."

  "I can't." She closed her eyes. "Please don't ask me."

  "It isn't lack of desire. What, then? Scruples?"

  She nodded miserably. "You know how I was raised, Blake. It's hard to forget the teachings of a lifetime overnight, even when you want someone very, very much."

  "Then suppose you marry me, Meredith."

  Her eyes opened wide. "What?"

  "W
e get along well together. You like Sarah. You want me. You've got a career, so I know you don't need my money, and you know I don't need yours. We could build a good life together." He searched her shocked face. "I know I'm not the best matrimonial prospect going. I'm short-tempered and impatient, and I can be ruthless. But you know the worst of me already. There won't be any terrible surprises after the vows."

  "I don't know…" she argued.

  "You want hearts and flowers and bells ringing." He nodded. "Well, that doesn't always happen. Sometimes you have to settle for practicalities. Tell me you don't want to live with me, Meredith," he challenged with a faintly mocking smile.

  "That would be a lie," she said, sighing, "so I won't bother. Yes, I want to live with you. And I'm very fond of Sarah Jane. Taking care of her wouldn't be any trial to me. But you're still not going to let your emotions get in the way of a good business deal, are you, Blake?" she returned. "You want me, but that's all you have to offer."

  "For a man, lovemaking is one big part of a relationship," he said, choosing his words. "I don't know much about love. I've never had any." He lifted his eyes back to hers. "If it can be taught, you can teach me. I've never been in love, so you've got a good shot at it already."

  She sighed at his summing-up of the situation, despite the ache in her heart for something he might never be able to give her. He was locked up emotionally, and nobody had a key.

  He leaned down, his face poised just above hers. "Stop thinking, Meredith," he whispered. His mouth nibbled at her lower lip, smoothing over its delicate swell. His hands cupped her breasts, hot even through the fabric of her tank top and sensual as they caressed her. One long leg insinuated itself between both of hers and she felt it begin to move lazily.

  "This isn't fair," she whispered shakily.

  "I know. Unbutton your top again," he whispered, and proceeded to tell her exactly why he wanted her to and what he intended to do when she unfastened it.

  Her body tingled with heat. She wanted him. Her moan was pure surrender, and he knew it. His heart leaped as he felt her fingers working at the buttons. And then she was all silky warmth under him, her breasts soft and yielding under his searching hands, his hungry mouth.

 

‹ Prev