She glanced at her watch and was appalled to see it was after six. She’d slept the entire afternoon away!
There was a telephone on the table beside the bed and she decided she’d better use it while she had the chance. Fishing the paper with Sam Flynn’s number on it out of her bag, she quickly punched the buttons.
It was an office number, she realized when an answering machine picked up. And as she listened to the message, her heart sank. Mr. Flynn would be out of town on business for several days. Emergency calls were referred to another number.
Somehow, she didn’t think another person could help her. She’d just have to wait until Sam was back again.
A spacious bath off the bedroom afforded her the opportunity to freshen up before she twisted the doorknob and stepped into the hall. She had to resist the urge to tiptoe as she walked into the comfortably decorated family room.
Rafe was nowhere in sight. A pass-through counter at one side of the room connected it with the kitchen so she walked through the nearby doorway. She had to admit, his taste was impeccable. Done in a blond wood that complemented the muted tones echoed in the family room, Rafe’s kitchen was sleek and modern yet still warm and inviting.
Wide French doors at one end led to a covered terrace, beyond which lay a glistening blue pool. And in the pool, she could see a dark head and powerful arms that were rhythmically slicing through the water. Rafe.
The muscles in her stomach contracted involuntarily, and her breasts felt as if they tightened as well, drawing her flesh taut and smooth as if waiting to welcome him.
No! How dumb could one woman be? How pathetic? He’d made it more than plain that he didn’t want her. Stupid as it had been, she’d come here hoping, maybe even expecting him to greet her with…affection. Warmth. She’d dreamed of his delight at learning she carried his child and of how he’d cuddle and coddle her through the rest of the pregnancy.
Well, she wasn’t dreaming anymore. And the ache that seemed to have settled permanently around her heart was only because her child was going to grow up without the traditional family she’d believed was possible.
Opening one of the doors, she stepped through onto the terrace.
Immediately Rafe altered his pattern, cutting through the pool to the side nearest her. “Welcome back,” he said, a grin lighting his chiseled features and giving him the handsome, roguish look she remembered so well. “I thought maybe you’d sleep straight through ’til tomorrow.”
“Hardly.” She kept her voice low and expressionless. “I wanted to thank you for your hospitality. I’ll be leaving as soon as I can get a cab out here.”
“Elizabeth…” He said her name in a hesitant manner at odds with his usual imperiousness.
“Yes?”
“You’re going to have a hard time getting a cab out here.”
“Not if I make the deal sweet enough.” She spoke with the confidence born of growing up with money and seeing its tiresomely predictable effect on people.
“The thing is…” He let his voice trail off as he put both hands on the side of the pool and smoothly lifted himself from the water, the powerful muscles in his back and shoulders flexing and bulging and sliding over each other in a way that made her mouth go dry and her heart thump in her breast.
He straightened, taking the single step that brought him to her side. His wet bathing trunks molded steely thighs, defining well-remembered muscle. Little drops of water caught in his eyelashes, his beard stubble, clung to his wide shoulders. The water caught in the curls springing from his chest succumbed to gravity’s pull and began a steady trickle downward to his navel and below.
She had to force herself not to let her gaze follow the droplets’ path. Instead, she repeated, “The thing is…?”
“The thing is,” he said again, “you don’t have a room to return to anymore.”
“I don’t—what? What do you mean?”
Rafe crossed his arms. Part of her instinctively recognized the defensive posture and her own body tensed in response.
“I checked you out of the hotel,” he said.
Surely he couldn’t have said what she thought he’d said. She stared at him. “I beg your pardon?”
“Your bags are in the front hallway.”
“Are you crazy?” She spun around and stalked back into the house, needing visual confirmation of his claim. Sure enough, the two big bags and smaller grip she’d brought from Alexandra’s were sitting in his foyer.
Furious, she stalked back to where he dripped water on the kitchen floor. “What do you think you’re doing?” By the slimmest of margins she caught hold of her temper and reined it in.
“Keeping you here for a while,” he said bluntly.
“Keeping me…for what purpose?”
“Because,” he said, and though his tone sounded reasonable and courteous, she got the impression he was gritting his teeth. “You can’t waltz into my life again, announce that you’re carrying my child and just leave.”
“I made no such announcement,” she muttered.
“What did you say?” He took her by the arms and turned her to face him, and she was overwhelmed by the power of his physical presence.
“You can’t keep me here against my will.” She tried to ignore the tanned flesh of the naked chest only inches in front of her. Turning to the side, she twisted in an attempt to slide from his grip. But Rafe didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled her the few inches remaining between their bodies until she was held firmly against him.
Elizabeth gasped as the water droplets clinging to his body and the soaking fabric of his swim trunks quickly penetrated her thin clothing. She closed her eyes, hoping he hadn’t seen in her eyes the way this sham of an embrace affected her senses.
Leaning away from him, she attempted to step back, but Rafe didn’t release her. Well, she wasn’t going to dignify his behavior by struggling. She’d just stand here until he let her go.
But her grand plan backfired. With her eyes closed, her world was defined by her other senses. He smelled of the fresh, clean scent of the water in which he’d been swimming, and his naked flesh was cool where their arms touched. Against her body, his much larger frame felt solid and hard, and, unlike the cool skin of his arms, an intense heat radiated from him. She felt dwarfed by him, strands of her hair clinging to his tanned bare shoulders.
His breath stirred the hair near her ear, and as they stood there locked in silent confrontation, she felt his breathing change, become faster as his chest rose and fell.
“Elizabeth.” He put one hand to her face and cupped her cheek, and she opened her eyes again. His face was only inches from hers, his blue eyes so compelling that she couldn’t look away. His thumb caressed the line of her jaw and then he slipped it beneath her chin and exerted a light pressure, tilting her face up to his.
His features became a blur as his face moved closer, and then his lips closed over hers.
She’d kissed him before, so she really shouldn’t be so overwhelmed. His mouth was gentle but firm and insistent, warm and mobile as he explored her. His tongue traced the shape of her upper lip, then flicked along the closed line of her mouth before firmly delving between her lips, forcing them to part for him.
When her head fell back, he cradled it against his shoulder, keeping his mouth angled over hers while he plumbed the depths of her mouth. His free hand smoothed up her body from her hip to her shoulder, then firmly back down again to press her against him. She could feel him growing aroused through the thin, wet fabric between them and her body, recognizing him as surely as it had from the first, relaxed into his embrace.
Her hands had been clutching his muscled arms, prepared to push him away, but as warm pulses of fevered arousal swept through her, she slowly stroked her palms up over his shoulders, feathering delicate fingers up the back of his neck.
He shuddered. Then he tore his mouth from hers and pressed her face against his shoulder. He was panting and she hoped he wouldn’t notice that she was,
too.
“So you’ll stay.” It wasn’t a question.
The self-satisfied tone in his voice had the effect of a thousand gallons of water being sprayed on a bonfire. She stiffened in his arms and, with one of the hands still around his neck, she plunged her fingers into his thick, black hair and tugged. Hard.
“Hey!” He released her immediately. “What was that for?”
“For assuming you can use sex to get me to do whatever you want.”
“It worked once, didn’t it?” His eyes were dark and furious.
“Now wasn’t that the height of chivalry speaking.” She knew her fair complexion was slowly becoming the vivid orange of an Arizona sunset and the knowledge only made her angrier.
“I never claimed to be a white knight,” Rafe said. He thrust his own fingers through his hair and clenched his hand into a fist, his frustration evident. Then he heaved a great sigh. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to get into a shouting match with you.”
“Then I’ll leave and you won’t.”
He ignored the deliberately provocative statement. “Can we start this conversation from the beginning again?”
She shrugged. Part of her wanted to get as far away from him as fast as she could. But another part, a treacherous, yearning hopefulness that she seriously despised, kept raising its own little chorus in her head, reminding her of the ecstasy she’d known in his arms and the dreams she’d woven during the long weeks since she’d seen him last. “I suppose we might.”
“You’re planning on keeping the baby, correct?”
She nodded. “That’s correct. But I don’t expect anything from you. I merely felt an obligation to inform you that you had fathered a child.”
“You mean your sister felt that obligation,” he reminded her. She bristled immediately and he held up a placatory hand. “I’m sorry. The point is, I would like you to stay in Arizona for a while as a guest in my home.”
She couldn’t keep the suspicion from her voice. “Why?”
He took a deep breath. “We—you and I—are going to be parents. We barely know each other. For the baby’s sake, we need to learn more about each other and discuss the rearing of the child.”
“This baby is mine!” Elizabeth put a protective hand over her stomach. “You wouldn’t even know about it if you hadn’t noticed for yourself, and you certainly weren’t thrilled when you did. I told you, I don’t want or need anything from you.” On the verge of tears, she halted, unwilling to relive the hurt and shock she’d felt after their meeting in the restaurant, when she’d realized how little the moments in the garden house had meant to him.
“You’re being unreasonable,” he said. “You just walked into my life again two days ago and I learned you’re carrying my child. It was a shock, and I’m sorry if I reacted badly. Elizabeth…” His voice softened, and those devastatingly direct blue eyes caught and held her gaze. “I’d like to get to know you better.”
She hesitated. Staying here was a very bad idea, when all the man had to do was walk into the room, and her body began to yearn for his touch. But he was probably right. They did have some things to talk about. If she could just remember that his caresses meant nothing, that he had only kissed her in an effort to get her to weaken and agree to stay, she could handle a few days of this.
The problem was that she couldn’t even remember her own name when he touched her, much less any principles.
Still, she owed this to her child. If her baby’s father wanted to be involved in its life, then she was just going to have to learn to deal with Rafe Thorton. Only for the baby’s sake, she reminded herself as she felt her insides automatically loosen and warm beneath the smoldering intensity of his gaze. He was only interested in her because she carried his child.
Slowly, she nodded her head. “All right. I’ll stay for a few days. But you have to promise me one thing.”
“Anything,” he said, clearly pleased with his persuasive technique.
“No more kissing,” she said.
His big body had relaxed when she’d agreed to stay. But now his muscles tensed, and his dark brows snapped together in clear displeasure. “Why?”
“Promise me.” She ignored his question.
“We’re attracted to each other. Don’t you think it’s natural for us to want to…kiss?”
The devil. She knew exactly what he was doing. His purposeful hesitation had brought all manner of memories rushing to the surface of her mind, distracting her from the conversation as she remembered the hot, wild ecstasy she’d known in his arms. Firmly, she said, “I’m not interested in casual sex. Promise me you won’t start that kissing again or I’m getting the first plane out of here.”
“All right,” he said, and there was a grim set to his mouth. But as she watched, his lips curled into a lazy grin that curled her toes inside her shoes. “There was nothing ‘casual’ about the night we were together and you know it. Pretending you don’t want me and I don’t want you isn’t going to work.”
“It will have to,” she insisted, though her stomach did a wild flip-flop at the look in his eyes, “or I won’t stay.”
It was probably just as well that he hadn’t told her she’d be staying longer than a few days, Rafe reflected the next afternoon as he pulled into his driveway. He had no intention of letting her go back to Wynborough. His child was going to be a citizen of the United States of America.
He strode into the house, wondering what she’d done with herself all day. They’d agreed that she would rest and he would work as usual. He’d spent his time at the office getting things in order so that he could take a few days off.
“Hello.” Elizabeth stood framed in the doorway to the kitchen.
He told himself the relief and satisfaction that rushed through him were merely a response to his concern that she might have packed and left while he was out, though she’d promised him she wouldn’t. “Hello,” he said. “How are you feeling?”
To his surprise, she laughed. The sound of her husky, feminine chuckle touched chords of sexual awareness inside him, but he firmly shoved those impulses away.
“I feel fine,” she said. “I’m pregnant, not ill, you know.”
He smiled in return. “I know. It’s just instinct, I suppose, to feel protective toward a woman carrying a child. Especially to a mere man who can’t even imagine what it must be like.”
Especially when that woman looks like a green-eyed angel, and she’s carrying your child.
He started forward. “What did you do today? I felt badly, leaving you to your own devices, but I wanted to get my staff in order so that I could take a few days off.”
“You’re not working?” She sounded startled and a little dismayed.
“Not for the next few days,” he said easily, though he hadn’t missed her reaction. “We can’t get to know each other if we don’t spend time together, right?”
“I suppose you’re right.” She sounded less than gracious.
“Did you lounge around all day? Looks like you spent a little time in the sun.”
Instinctively, she touched the tip of her nose with a fingertip, obviously making an effort to smile and match his friendly tone. “Is my complexion giving me away? I swam this morning, and I swear I sat by the pool for less than thirty minutes slathered in sunscreen, but these freckles can’t be banished.”
“I didn’t notice the freckles. You simply have a little extra glow.”
“Oh.” She appeared to be at a loss for words. “I watched a chef on your telly this afternoon,” she offered in what he recognized as a bid for a safer subject. “He made the most scrumptious-looking chicken dish. My mouth was watering by the time he finished. I wrote down the recipe, but I’m not really sure why—I’ve never cooked in my life. It looked like fun.”
Rafe chuckled. “Most women don’t consider cooking fun. They’re so busy rushing around with careers and family commitments that cooking is just one more thing on the list to get finished. Where’s your recipe?”
She turned and gestured behind her. “On your kitchen counter.”
“Would you like me to teach you how to make it?”
She stared at him. “You can cook?”
“I have become a thoroughly modern American male,” he announced in an overly grand tone. “I can cook, I can clean, I can provide. And all this with one hand tied behind my back, of course.”
“I’d like to learn to cook,” she said in a somewhat hesitant tone. Then she smiled, and her eyes grew soft. “My family will be so surprised when I get home.”
And in that moment, he promised himself that by the time she got home, she was going to think of him and smile like that, with that faraway look of familiar intimacy that made onlookers feel they’d been left outside the magic circle. But he didn’t tell her any of that. “Then I’ll teach you,” was all he said.
Over the next few days, he worked hard to make Elizabeth feel at ease. He gave her the big guest suite at the far end of the hallway from his room, and he let her have private time by the pool. He helped her learn her way around his kitchen and took her shopping for a few clothes and things to extend her stay.
She wouldn’t let him hang around while she browsed the women’s clothing section, which he thought was amusing. And she guarded her packages fiercely when he tried to find out what she’d bought.
“Just odds and ends,” she said. They were seated in a little ice-cream café with her bags beneath the table.
“What kind of odds and ends?”
“Ladies’ odds and ends,” she said repressively.
He had to laugh. “I’ve seen ladies in their odds and ends before, you know. Out of them, too, come to think of it—” He stopped at the look on her face. “Magazines,” he said hastily. “Men’s magazines.”
“Right.” She made a little pout. “Here I am, buying stretchy knickers and getting fatter by the day, and you’re talking about seeing women in the altogether. Thin women, no doubt.”
The Pregnant Princess Page 5