Designated Daddy

by Jane Toombs

  Damn men, anyway, especially this insensitive clod she was isolated on the top of a mountain with.

  The storm of tears didn’t last long. Victoria had learned as a child that crying was not a solution to any problem. She sat up, wiped her face with tissues and crossed the room to look at herself in the oakframed mirror over the dresser. Not as bad as she’d expected.

  When Victoria and her sister were little and had been whacked by their father for some real or imagined infraction, Renee used to get mad at her after they stopped crying. While her sister’s face would turn blotchy and her eyes red from crying, Victoria got by with no more than a pink nose from blowing it. Renee had always claimed that wasn’t fair.

  Victoria sighed, sending up a little prayer that Renee was safe and happy wherever she might be before carefully putting away the memory of her sister. She ran a brush through her hair and opened the door to her room.

  Steve sat in the rocker feeding Heidi. Evidently he hadn’t heard her door open because he was looking down at the baby with what she recognized as the besotted gaze of a new father. As she stood watching, what remained of her anger melted away like snow in August. He did have some redeeming qualities, after all.

  Eventually he glanced up, saw Victoria and his expression shifted into neutral.

  “She’s taken to you,” Victoria said.

  “Probably because I know what I’m doing now—thanks to a persistent teacher.” He half smiled. “As well as a good one.”

  She took that to mean he wanted a truce. Well, so did she. Not that she meant to back down.

  “Too bad my teacher isn’t able to do as thorough a job instructing me in common courtesy,” he added. “I’m not always a good student.”

  Which was as close as she’d ever get to an apology, she supposed. But it was one, of sorts, and she gave him a wary smile. The kitten rubbed against her ankle, mewing, and she picked him up.

  Steve transferred Heidi up against his shoulder, patting her back. “Bevins tried to join us, but I convinced him feeding time was off-limits. Never before realized cats sulked. When I was a kid, we didn’t have pets at home.”

  She remembered him telling her how his father had always demanded perfection. No wonder there were no pets; animals fell far short of perfect.

  “I couldn’t have a pet when I was little, either,” she said without thinking. “It wasn’t safe. Not after my father kicked my sister’s puppy when he was drunk and killed the poor little thing. I don’t suppose he meant to, but...” Her voice trailed off.

  Enough of the past. Petting Bevins, she said, “You mentioned something about a foot trail to a little hamlet—Hanksville? —on the other side of the mountain from Aylestown. Could we all hike down there soon?”

  Steve nodded. “I remember promising you we’d do just that. How about the day after tomorrow?”

  “Um, could we make it the day after that? I invited Willa for lunch two days from now.”

  Heidi rewarded him with a burp and he settled her back down and offered her the bottle again. “No problem,” he said, somewhat to Victoria’s surprise.

  “I like to be neighborly,” she said, somewhat defiantly, well aware he didn’t feel the same, particularly.

  Steve didn’t intend to touch that one. “What did you think of Willa’s pets?” he asked.

  “I wouldn’t call them pets. Those snakes are her living.”

  “She’s braver than I am,” he admitted. Grinning, he added, “And even more oddball.”

  Victoria shot him a challenging look. “About evensteven, from where I stand.”

  “Thought I’d grill steaks outside tonight,” he said, changing the subject before he got skewered. “Picked some up in town, along with a small grill and some charcoal.”

  “Sounds divine—but can we? You’re so careful about leaving no food outside because of the possibility of attracting bears.”

  “Have to do a thorough clean-up job afterward, that’s all. Besides, we now have Joker for an earlywarning system.”

  Steve turned out to have a mean touch with charcoal. The steaks were done to absolute perfection and went well with the potatoes she’d baked in the woodstove’s oven—her first venture into using it. Topped off with a fresh fruit salad, the meal was delicious.

  “You can cook for me anytime,” she told him afterward.

  “I’ll keep it in mind.” His words were light but the look in his changeable hazel eyes as well as what he said nest made her catch her bicath.

  “Fall moon tonight”

  Willa’s words sprang into her head and came out of her mouth. “The most beautiful flowers blossom then.”

  His slow smile set her pulses racing. “We’ll have to discover what they are, won’t we?”

  She didn’t answer, couldn’t answer, unsure of what she wanted to say as well as unsure of what she wanted. Where he was concerned her emotions seemed to flip-flop with maddening regularity, either all systems go or a complete shutdown—never on neutral.

  Taking her time getting ready for the night, she tried to decide whether it was wise to venture outside with Steve under a full moon—or not Once the baby was soundly asleep, though, and Steve took her hand, leading her toward the door, she discovered that wisdom had nothing to do with her decision.

  On the way to the door he plucked Bevins from the hearth pillow and made a detour to deposit him inside the shed, shutting him in to keep him away from Heidi’s cradle.

  Joker, tied outside in back past the shed, whined when he heard them leave the cabin but Steve shook his head. “Not tonight, pal,” he called to the dog.

  Maybe that’s what I should say to Steve, Victoria told herself. But, tingling with anticipation as she was, how could she?

  The moon, high overhead, shone silver light through the trees, changing the world with its night magic as they strolled along the trail leading down the mountain. Not wishing to succumb entirely to its beauty or to Steve’s disturbing nearness, she said, “You really did upset me this morning.”

  “My sister used to say I had an evil imp that I usually kept locked up but once in a while he got out and sat on my left shoulder. He was there this morning.”

  “Actually, I should have left you a note.”

  “Please,” he said softly, stopping to draw her into his arms.

  Whatever the “please” was meant for, a belated politeness or a warning to say no now or it would be too late, she ignored it when his lips met hers in the sweetest of kisses. This is what she’d longed for ever since the first kiss, to feel the hard strength of his body molded to hers, to taste him again, to feel the softness of his hair under her fingers.

  The scent of burning charcoal still clung to his clothes, mingling with the clean male scent of his skin. Breathing it in, she found the smell arousing because it came from him.

  When she responded eagerly, he held her closer, coaxing her mouth open so he could deepen the kiss, intensifying her desire. Her thoughts fragmented into wisps and floated away. She could no longer think, but she felt his need mingling with hers until she was consumed with wanting.

  His hands slid under her T-shirt and she heard him draw in a shaky breath that blended with her moan when he cupped her naked breasts. She couldn’t blame it on the moonlight; this man had a magic of his own in the touch of his lips, his hands, his body.

  When he pulled her shirt over her head and off, she reached for his, needing to feel her breasts against his naked chest and the smooth skin of his back under her hands.

  “Victoria,” he murmured against her lips, her name a caress.

  Unable to speak coherently, she made a sound in the back of her throat similar to the kitten’s purr.

  Was it the moon, was it Steve, was it her own need driving her up? Or a combination of all three? Whatever made her feel so wild and abandoned didn’t matter, only the sensation itself did. She couldn’t get enough of him; she needed more and more.

  He eased them both down under a pine, the prickly brush o
f pine needles teasing her bare skin as he finished undressing her. He shucked the rest of his clothes and then pulled her close again, kissing her mouth, her throat, pausing at her breasts to taste one, then the other, driving her wild.

  “Steve,” she managed to whisper, but no more words emerged.

  His fingers found her center and she gasped with pleasure, arching under his hand. When she reached for him, she found he was completely aroused. He groaned and rose over her.

  When they joined, a thrill began deep inside her, infiltrating her entire body, infusing her with an electric passion that drove her to match his rhythm as they travelled together in their journey to a place she’d never reached before.

  Afterward, as she emerged from her silvery haze, she breathed in the heady scent of their lovemaking and nodded, understanding what Willa had meant about a moon blossom.

  As if reading her thought, Steve murmured, “That old gal has her act together, after all. Let’s try for a bouquet.”

  Then he kissed her and, slowly and sensuously, they began the erotic journey all over again.

  Chapter Seven

  After the moonlight walk with Victoria, Steve climbed into the loft as usual. She hadn’t invited him to bed down with her, nor had he expected her to. Their coming together had been inevitable, given the increasing heat between them, but he was willing to take the aftermath slow and easy, which was apparently what she wanted to do.

  There should be no rush to intensify a relationship that couldn’t last. Which didn’t stop him from wishing he was in her bed. Their lovemaking, great as it had been, was no more than an appetizer; he was still hungry for more.

  He wondered if it would have been the same back in his town house, had it been safe to remain there. Probably not. Chances were she would have insisted he find permanent help and then resumed her own life. He’d have missed this night with her, they’d never have come together in the mountain moonlight.

  He hadn’t ever considered himself a romantic—far from it. Yet tonight had been just that. Romantic and sexy as anything he’d ever experienced. Victoria made love like she did everything else. Thoroughly. He shifted uncomfortably. Damn, all this dwelling on how great she’d been was making him hard again.

  If only life were as simple for him as it was for old Willa who stayed in her cabin year-round. At the moment, he couldn’t deny living on top of this mountain had an almost irresistible appeal. Not alone, like Willa. He wanted Victoria up here with him. And Heidi. Then, of course, there was Joker and Bevins....

  How had he, a loner by choice, in such a short time managed to collect not only a baby, a dog and cat, but the sexiest woman he’d ever kissed? And what was he going to do with them all when this mountain idyll ended?

  Steve found he didn’t want to think about the future. Not when he was having the time of his life.

  Victoria told herself she was relieved when she heard Steve climb the stairs to the loft She needed time to think about this night. On the other hand, if he’d been lying next to her, thinking is not what she’d be doing. He couldn’t be compared to any other man because he was the first who’d made her feel what was between them was worth risking anything for.

  Not that she expected any future with him. This episode in her life would be treasured and stored in a special memory comportment On days when things went wrong, maybe she’d delve into that storage area and remember the silver light of the moon caressing them both with magic. She’d remember with pleasure and maybe a touch of heartache because it had to end.

  Victoria shook her head. Why think about endings? Anticipate the days with Steve yet to come. And the nights...

  It seemed she’d hardly been asleep when the cries of the baby woke her. Must be 3:00 a.m., she told herself as she rolled out of bed. Heidi invariably woke around then for her pre-dawn feeding.

  Before she could settle into the rocker with baby and bottle, Bevins began to yowl from the shedlike attachment at the rear of the cabin where the split wood was stored. He allowed himself to be shut in there each night without complaining, but now he obviously wanted to join them.

  She let him out before she sat down. He trailed her to the rocker, then tried to climb onto her lap with the baby. She pushed him off with a firm “no.” Tail high, he marched to the stairs and humpty-humped up to the loft. Victoria shook her head, waiting for an explosion, but none came.

  Heidi had finished half the bottle and Victoria was burping her when Steve appeared on the stairs, sleep disheveled, with the kitten hooked over one arm. “I seem to have acquired a bed partner,” he said as he came down. “Not necessarily by choice. Or the one I’d have chosen.”

  “You’d prefer Joker?”

  He shot her a mock frown. “Very funny.”

  Sinking onto the couch, he set Bevins on his knee and began petting him. “Doesn’t take much to get his motor revved up,” he commented. “Or mine.”

  Glancing at him, she saw his gaze was fixed on her bare thighs, her sleep-T having ridden up when she sat in the rocker. With Heidi in her lap, she could do little about it, and an answering slow heat built in her.

  “Maybe we need some rules?” She’d meant to make a statement but it came out a question.

  “You think so?”

  When he looked at her with his hazel eyes softened by desire, she didn’t know what she thought. If anything. “I like you best with your hair all mussed up,” she blurted.

  He looked startled, as well he might. Whatever had possessed her to say that?

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know—maybe it’s because then your guard’s down and you’re not trying to be so perfect.”

  He was quiet for so long, she began to wonder if he’d taken what she said as an insult. Or a weakness in himself. Finally he got up from the couch, crossed to the back door and deposited Bevins in the shed again. On his return he stopped by the rocker and ran a finger over Heidi’s cheek.

  “So soft,” he said. “Like yours.” He bent and brushed her lips with his, then straightened.

  “Rules?” he asked. “Do you really believe we’d follow them?”

  Victoria watched him climb the stairs and disappear into the loft, realizing she understood more about Steve’s body than she did his mind.

  “What do you think of your father?” she whispered to Heidi. “He’s that big guy who feeds and changes you sometimes, the guy who was afraid of you at first. But now he’s not. Now he loves you.” She cuddled the baby to her, not saying the words in her heart. She loved Heidi, too.

  Not Heidi’s father, though. Chemistry—that’s what she felt for him. Powerful chemistry. But not love.

  Victoria woke late and so did Heidi. The day passed pleasantly enough, though neither of them saw much of Steve, who kept busy outside. House tasks occupied her—changing bed linen, dusting, sweeping the floor-in general neatening up the place for lunch with Willa the next day.

  Though she tried not to wonder what would happen when night came, by evening every nerve was on edge. Would he? Would she? Should she? Had their intimacy been a mistake? Not in terms of how he’d made her feel, she’d never want to give that up, but a mistake because, if they grew closer, how much harder it would be to part.

  As it turned out, after the evening meal, Steve helped her clean up, then sat down with his thriller and, with Bevins on his knee, began to read.

  “Are thrillers the kind of book you prefer?” she asked, busy getting Heidi ready for the night.

  “Busman’s holiday,” he said.

  “What does that mean?”

  He shrugged. “They’re fiction, not real, so I can enjoy them.”

  Victoria frowned, working through that one. “You’ve never actually told me what you do for a living,” she said finally.

  “Government work. Not all that interesting.”

  If he didn’t want to be specific, it really was none of her business. To question him further would be prying, which she had no right to do.

  She sat
down in the rocker with the baby. Heidi had been fed but wasn’t yet sleepy, so when Joker padded over to sniff at the baby’s feet, Victoria propped her up so she could focus on the dog. Joker began wagging his tail.

  “Look!” Victoria cried, alerting Steve. “She’s smiling.”

  He put down the book, a grin lighting his face. “Yeah,” he said, “but look who at. How comes it’s the dog that rates her first real smile?”

  That, as it turned out, was the high point of the evening. And night. Steve made no move and, since Victoria was damned if she was going to initiate anything, they went to their separate beds, having exchanged no more than a chaste good-night. She fell asleep trying to convince herself it was all for the best.

  Steve got up early the next morning, bemused by the most erotic dreams he’d had in years. Dreams of Victoria. He’d had a tough time last night keeping his hands off her but, one way or another, she’d been in his bed anyway.

  When he came downstairs, Heidi was just beginning to stir, making fussing noises that stopped when he lifted her from the cradle and brought her over to the makeshift changing table. She eyed him solemnly as he switched her wet diaper to a dry one.

  “How come you can smile at Joker but you don’t have a smile for your old—?” Steve broke off, astounded at what he’d been about to say. Your old dad. He wasn’t. He could never be. The truth hurt because, oddly enough, he was beginning to feel like she was his daughter. How had that happened?

  It made him understand why Karen had clung to infant Danny after she was left as his guardian when their cousin died. Steve had supported Karen, for a time financially as well as emotionally, not because he thought she was doing the right thing but because she was his sister and, damn it, because their folks . objected to her keeping the baby.

  Now his feeling for Heidi had shown him why Karen had been so adamant. Baby humans were something like puppies and kittens—take one in and you soon find you can’t bear to give it up. Must be programmed into human genes.