Baby's First Christmas

by Marie Ferrarella

  Marlene was in no mood for riddles. “Sally, what are you talking about? Oh.” Marlene stopped dead in her tracks. The last person she’d expected to see at her door was Sullivan. She glanced at the large, hand-painted rocking horse beside him. Now what? “I didn’t think you’d be here after what happened earlier.”

  Coming here hadn’t been easy for Sullivan. Part of him was ready to say the hell with it. He’d done what was required of him, tracked down his brother’s “contribution” and brought her and his father together. The rest should be up to his father and Marlene. He could wash his hands of it.

  But that would be lying. He couldn’t wash his hands of it. Not after he’d kissed her. Not after what he’d felt when he had held Robby in his arms. It couldn’t just end this way.

  He’d come to apologize and to mend fences. And maybe to hold her just one more time.

  “It’s because of what happened earlier that I’m here.” He didn’t want to have this conversation on her doorstep. “Can I come in?”

  “The horse can.” She stood at the door, barring the way. “I’m not too sure about you.”

  He glanced at the rocking horse. “We’re a set.”

  “Too bad for the horse. All right, come on in.” With a sigh, she led the way in.

  Sullivan lifted the rocking horse and carried it into the house. The horse was a lot heavier than it looked. “It’s Derek’s.”

  Puzzled, Marlene stopped and turned around. “What is?”

  Sullivan set the rocking horse down. He had spent the better part of two hours looking for it in the storage unit, and then another hour cleaning it up.

  “The horse. Derek got it for Christmas one year. He was about six.” Sullivan smoothed the flaxen mane down on the wooden neck. With a push of his hand he set it rocking gently. “He loved riding on it, pretending he was a cowboy. My father saved it, hoping to pass it on to his grandson one day.” Sullivan lifted a shoulder, feeling somewhat awkward. Maybe he should have just stayed away from her. Being here, being close to her, did things to him. He didn’t know quite how to handle it. “I thought that Robby might like it.”

  It was a beautiful toy and just the sort of thing she would have wanted for her son. A gift with a history to it. Still, she was cautious. “What’s the catch? He can only ride it in your father’s house?”

  “I brought it here, didn’t I?” Sullivan worked to curb his temper. He hated that wary look in her eyes. Hated it because it was directed at him. “No catch. I thought he should have it, that’s all.”

  She ran her hand over the flaxen mane. There was no doubt in her mind that it was handmade. She felt herself softening. Calculated or not, Sullivan’s gesture touched her.

  “Thank you.” Marlene looked up at him. “Did you get one, too?”

  Sullivan shook his head. “No. I wasn’t into horses.” It was Derek who had always received the preferential treatment, Derek who had gotten everything he wanted as a child.

  Something in his voice told her otherwise. Yes, you were, she thought, looking at his expression. But you didn’t get one. A kinship rose within her. Marlene slipped her hand into his. “It was very nice of you to bring it. I’m sure Robby’ll treasure it when he’s old enough.”

  “So, are you letting him stay?” Sally demanded as she walked out of the kitchen.

  “Yes, Sally,” Marlene answered patiently. “I’m letting him stay.”

  “Never did know what was good for you, did you?” the woman muttered loud enough for them both to hear. “Well, I’m going to bed. Scream if you need me.” She made her way up the stairs.

  Marlene looked at Sullivan, chagrined. “Sorry about that.”

  It didn’t take a Rhodes scholar to see that Sally was particularly disgruntled tonight. “She seems angry with you. Is it because I’m here?”

  She thought of saying yes, but that would be lying and he deserved better. “No. She just doesn’t approve of my returning to work tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” That seemed so soon. She’d given birth—when? A week, no two weeks ago.

  Marlene could read his mind. He disapproved, too. Why did she always have to defend everything she did? “That doesn’t make me an unfit mother, just a responsible human being. Besides, Sally is very capable. She can look after him. She looked after me when I was growing up.”

  “Sally’s not his mother,” he pointed out. He’d sided with her earlier because he felt a child belonged with its mother. If that mother was going to turn her back on her responsibilities, maybe he would have to rethink his position. “You are.” He struggled not to let his emotions get the better of him. “And you’re abandoning him.”

  Her eyes grew wide at the accusation. He was angry, she thought. What right did he have to be angry with her? “I am not abandoning him.” Marlene stopped abruptly. She was shouting. With a sigh, she lowered her voice. “I’m providing for him.”

  “If it’s a matter of money—”

  There was that infernal Travis checkbook. Did they think that they could just throw money at a problem and it would be solved?

  “No, it’s not a matter of money. It’s a matter of pride. My pride. His pride in his mother. This is what I do, and despite the way I got into it, I am damn good at it. I want to hand him something when it comes time for that.”

  “He won’t care.” He remembered his own childhood. It was one filled with nannies and boarding schools. “All he’ll care about is that you weren’t there for him when he needed you.”

  She raised herself up, angry, hurt. Did he think she was some kind of self-centered monster? “I will always be there for him when he needs me. Now I’ll thank you to take your accusations and your gift and leave.”

  “I’ll go, but the gift stays. It’s a piece of his heritage, too.”

  With that, Sullivan turned on his heel and walked to the door. He yanked it open with a jerk and strode out.

  Damn, she shouldn’t have said that. She was letting her emotions get the better of her. He’d come here with a peace offering, and she was all but burning it because, maybe, some part of her agreed with him. Maybe she should be staying home.

  Guilt consumed her. “Sullivan,” she called after him.

  He didn’t turn around.

  Marlene hurried after him, afraid that if he left now, he would leave forever. Maybe she would regret this later, but she couldn’t just let him go like this.

  “Sullivan.”

  “What?” He ground the word out between clenched teeth.

  She stopped behind him and laid a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.”

  He didn’t turn around. “Yeah, so am I.”

  They were talking about different things; she could feel it. She had no idea what he was sorry about. She only knew what she felt. She was ashamed that she had allowed her guilt and anger to get the better of her.

  Marlene slipped her hand into his. “Come back inside.”

  His own anger cooled in the face of her apology. Still, there were feelings within him that were dangerously close to the surface. Feelings that he couldn’t give in to. It would only muddy things up.

  Following her, he crossed the threshold then loosened his hand from hers. “Maybe I’d better leave.”

  Her eyes held his. For the first time, she felt protective of him. That, and something more. Something that had been hovering on the outskirts of her mind for some time. “Now who’s running?”

  “I never run, Marlene,” he told her quietly, feeling his control sliding away. He tried vainly to hold on to it. “Not from anything.” Her eyes were playfully mocking him. “Sometimes, though, I just walk away.”

  She allowed a triumphant smile to grace her mouth. “Like now?”

  God, stronger men than he had succumbed to a beautiful woman. He thought about the road to hell and the good intentions it was paved with. From where he stood, it was a clear slide down a chute, straight into the fire.

  He took her into his arms. “I should.”

  Marlene di
dn’t resist. She raised her chin. “Can that be taken up to a vote?”

  She smelled good, he thought. The scent was a mixture of expensive perfume and baby powder. It was a heady combination.

  He toyed with her hair. “I kind of like dictatorships myself.”

  Her smile was wide. “So do I. When I’m holding the reins.”

  He liked the way she fit against him, neatly, as if every curve of her body had a complimentary niche in his. “I noticed that.”

  “Did you, now?” She could feel the thread of excitement pulling through her. “What else did you notice?”

  Everything. The way your breasts rise when you challenge something I’ve said. The way the sunlight falls into your hair, getting trapped there. Just like me. “That you’ve got the greatest mouth I’ve ever seen.”

  Was it just her, or was the room getting warmer? “Moving or closed?”

  “Moving. And not uttering a sound.”

  Cupping her face in his hands, he brought his mouth down to hers. This time there was passion. Such passion that it rivaled the magnitude of the storm that first night he had brought her home.

  His hands dove into her hair, and he dragged her against him. The feel of her body ignited his own. His mouth slanted over hers again and again. He had no idea that he could lose control so quickly. He’d never lost control before.

  She’d caught him at a vulnerable moment and made him pay with her ripe mouth and her silken skin.

  Lord, but he wanted her. Wanted what he couldn’t—what he shouldn’t—have.

  Blood pounded in his veins, demanding release of the pent-up emotions. It took every fiber of his being to draw back.

  “Hey.” He blew out a long breath as he tried to focus on her face. “If we’re not careful, I’m going to lose what little good sense I have. We can’t do this. You can’t do this. You just had a baby.”

  She felt as if she had been bodily tossed into a furnace, and there was only one source of relief. “I’m fine. I went to the doctor today before I met with your father. Except for not being able to produce any milk for the baby, she says I’m fine.”

  He swept her hair away from her face, framing it again. Her eyes bored into his soul. “You’re sure?”

  If she didn’t do it quickly, she wouldn’t be able to do it at all. And she wanted to. Desperately. “I have it in writing.”

  “I’ll read it later.” Sullivan picked her up into his arms and turned toward the winding staircase.

  Chapter Twelve

  The door to Marlene’s room stood open. Very gently, Sullivan set her down on the floor, his eyes intent on hers. There was something there, an uncertainty that mirrored his own.

  “Second thoughts?”

  Marlene shook her head, but there were second thoughts. Thoughts that had to do with Oliver and Sullivan’s true intentions. What if all this was just an elaborate ruse? What if it was happening to get her off her guard? To undermine her and somehow use this to prove that she was an unfit mother and get the baby away from her?

  She knew men like that existed, knew that her own father had been one of those kinds of men. And yet, looking into Sullivan’s eyes, she couldn’t make herself believe that he was like that.

  Maybe she was a fool, but this pull toward him was so overwhelming she couldn’t find the strength to resist.

  Damn, this was all wrong. He was allowing too many ends to tangle. And yet, he couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t have the will to stop himself.

  She would have to do that for him if it was to happen.

  Sullivan ran his hands along her arms, resting them lightly on her shoulders. His thumbs teased the tender skin along the slopes of her neck. Marlene reacted to his touch even as the tiniest part of her struggled to maintain control.

  He saw that, too. Was she afraid of him? Or was there something else she was afraid of? He needed to know. Even as he tried to convince himself of the fact, he knew his reaction to her wasn’t merely physical. It was more, so much more that it unnerved him.

  It was time for honesty. “Marlene, right now I want you more than I want anything else on this earth, but this won’t go any further if you’re afraid.”

  Afraid? Did he think she was afraid of him? Marlene slowly moved her head from side to side. If she was afraid of anything, it was herself and the magnitude of the emotions building within her. She’d never felt anything like this before.

  “I’m not.” Her denial was firm. And then came the coda. “Exactly.”

  “Then what, ‘exactly’?” He paused, waiting. But she said nothing. She didn’t have to. He knew. His voice was low, caressing her, surrounding her. “There’s only you and me involved, Marlene. Only you and me in this room. There isn’t space for anyone else. No past lovers, no one passing judgments.” His eyes were on hers. “No ghosts or specters. I’m not here as Derek’s brother or Oliver’s son. I’m just Sullivan. And I want you.”

  She let out a shaky breath. When he touched her like that, he scrambled her senses. She wanted him more than she wanted anyone else in her life.

  But what if—?

  Tomorrow. She would deal with all her uncertainties tomorrow. She always thought clearer in the morning. All she could think of at this moment in time was him.

  His fingers feathered along her face, gentle, coaxing. The ache was building within him even as he struggled to rein it in. “If you want me to stop—”

  “No,” she said a little too quickly, a little too breathlessly. “I don’t.”

  Marlene looked up into his eyes. Whatever had gone down between them, whatever was to come, at this moment it was exactly as he had said. Sullivan was here with her as himself, not as Robby’s uncle, not as his father’s emissary. Not as Derek’s brother. Just as himself.

  And she could deal with that.

  Yes, she could more than deal with that. She raised her face to his, her lips curving in a small smile. “Kiss me, Sullivan. Kiss me before we both come to our senses and realize what we’re doing.”

  His eyes washed over her, pulling her to him. “Sense? What’s that?”

  Dear Lord, but she felt as if she were self-igniting. It was as if all these years, she’d been waiting for him. Only him. She didn’t want to talk any more. “Something I seem to have lost along the way.”

  There was a different world in his arms, a different world than one she’d ever known. And she wanted to be submerged in it.

  Very slowly, Sullivan tilted her head back with the crook of his finger under her chin. Her eyes were bright with anticipation. He lightly brushed his lips against hers, stroking the soft column of her neck with his fingertips. He felt her pulse accelerating. He could feel his own heart slamming into his rib cage, eager to meet hers.

  The kiss deepened, being drawn out by the need he sensed within her. The need that rose to meet and mingle with his own.

  The arousal he felt was incredible.

  Once again he was surprised at the fervor with which she responded. The need he tasted on her lips humbled him and broke so many barriers within his own soul. If any doubts of his own lingered, they dissolved. He sensed that all her dreams, all her needs, were locked up within that one kiss.

  It took extreme control to bridle his own reaction to her. Not for the world would he risk making her back away now by frightening her, but it felt as if there were explosions going on within his veins. Explosions fueled by urgent demands that had to be kept in check until Marlene was ready. As for himself, he felt as if he’d been ready from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her.

  As passionate as she was in his arms, he sensed that she wasn’t quite ready yet. His mouth worked over hers again and again, his hands brushing along her body, caressing, gentling, reassuring.

  Making her crave.

  Making her crazy.

  This was joy. This was anticipation and an eagerness she’d only sampled in moderation once or twice before. But each time it had turned into dust and ashes. The promise had never flourished.


  This was different. Dear Lord, this was different. Somehow she knew that what lay ahead would not lead to disappointment.

  There were desires rumbling through her, climbing on one another like acrobats in a circus, rushing to form a pyramid to the top.

  She wanted everything he could give her. Quickly, before her common sense returned and stopped her. She knew that what was unfolding was happening too quickly, that these things took time. She hardly knew him. But somehow, none of that mattered. None of that got in the way.

  Eager, her breath backing up in her lungs, Marlene tugged on his shirt, pulling it free of his waistband. Her hands splayed across his bared skin as she burrowed her hands beneath the shirt.

  Despite wanting her to continue, Sullivan stilled her hands, holding them in place. She had no idea what she was doing to him. His self-control was being eradicated by the sweep of her fingertips along his skin.

  “Hey.” His breath skimmed along her throat. “Slow down.” Sullivan could feel her pulse fluttering wildly beneath his lips, like the wings of a hummingbird. “We have all night to do this.”

  His lips curved against her skin. It tickled her even as it sent her blood rushing through her veins. “Or until the next feeding,” he amended.

  From somewhere, the information seemed to filter in. “That would be in four hours.” Her words were thick, her head spinning.

  “I can work with that.” He raised his head and looked into her eyes. No, this wasn’t just another woman making calculations as she entered his arms. There was infinitely much more at stake here. He had no idea if he should even be sitting at the gaming table, but he couldn’t help himself. His expression sobered.

  “We’ll take this one step at a time, Marlene,” he promised. “And if you want to stop—”

  If she felt like this, like someone on the verge of diving off a cliff into the bracing waters beneath that called to her, how must he feel?

  She stared at him in wonder. What sort of a man was he? “You’ll stop?”

  His hands worked over her shoulders, molding her, seducing her. Seducing himself. He knew he would keep his word, but it would be at a tremendous cost.