This Little Baby

by Joyce Sullivan

“Robbins probably won’t phone till tomorrow,” she said softly. “They’ll search Elva’s house with a fine-tooth comb and that takes time. The same applies with the counseling clinic’s files.” She lifted her free hand and stroked his cheek, achingly aware of the contrast between the sandpaper stubble and the soft fibers of his hair at his temples. His breath stirred on her wrist. “Besides, your parents are waiting for you and you’re running on empty. You need to rest.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  She heard the hesitation in his voice. His eyes were dark, unreadable. She sensed he was holding back too, pretending the need rising between them wasn’t real. Didn’t exist.

  “Good night, Gil.” She severed the contact between them and fumbled for the door latch. She would have watched as he drove away, but she knew he’d wait until she was safely upstairs in her apartment with the lights turned on before he drove off. He was that kind of man—considerate and caring.

  With a small sigh, she headed straight for the shower, hoping the pulse of hot water would relieve some of the tension flowing through her. She towel dried her hair and slipped into an oversize T-shirt before crawling into bed. Exhaustion settled in her tired limbs, but her mind refused to succumb to her body’s need for sleep. The awareness that she could have invited Gil in dominated her thoughts. He could be sharing her bed with her now. She rolled over and smoothed the spare pillow on her queen-size bed.

  She’d made the right decision, hadn’t she?

  Yes, she had. Gil would make another woman very happy someday.

  Firmly, she nudged her fantasies aside and redirected the flow of her thoughts toward Mikey. And Elva. If she couldn’t sleep, she might as well work.

  Why would Elva agree to look after Mikey for two weeks? Had she duped Cindy by offering to baby-sit, with the intention of abducting Mikey and disappearing? Maybe Cindy got nervous and tried to back out of the arrangement and Elva killed her and Jean-Luc. Elva could have planted the diaper bag in Jean-Luc’s apartment. Maybe Elva didn’t think Cindy was a suitable mother. But would a family counselor commit murder—twice?

  Questions started coming at her fast and loose. Paulina scrambled out of bed and grabbed her briefcase, which she’d left in the living room. She took it back to bed with her and pulled out her pen to make notes as she reread the file in search of a new set of answers. Had Cindy met Elva for lunch that fatal Wednesday?

  An hour and a half later, she picked up Tweedie’s statement. As far as Paulina was concerned, he was still a suspect. She flipped through the pages. What had he said about Elva?

  The buzz of the doorbell suddenly broke Paulina’s concentration. It was half past eleven. Who could it be at this hour? The police?

  Wary, she hurried to the front door and pushed the button on the intercom that allowed her to screen her visitors. “Yes?”

  “It’s me. Gil. I noticed your light was on. Can I come up?”

  She closed her eyes as a rush of longing swelled in her throat. Why did even the sound of his voice penetrate every last one of her defenses? Her finger hovered over the button controlling the security gate. With a sense of inevitability she released the gate, granting him access.

  Was it her imagination, or could she hear his every step on the stairs? Or was that her heartbeat? She combed her fingers through her hair and took a deep, steadying breath before she opened her door to him.

  Her knees dipped convulsively as her gaze locked with his. That ever-logical part of her brain warned her she was being foolhardy. That she’d regret it in the morning. But her eyes greedily took in every detail of his handsome face. Every nuance. Every shadow. Every fear.

  Was he as afraid as she was? The muscles of his body rippled beneath his denim shirt and lightweight jacket. His jeans clung suggestively to his thighs as he mounted the stairs. Paulina felt woozy with the overpowering desire to be with this man. To know him in the most vulnerable way a woman can know a man.

  He stopped on the private landing outside her door, dominating the secluded tile enclosure with his presence in the same way he dominated her mind and her heart. His eyes were dark with need. “I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to go for a drive. If you want me to leave, I will…”

  Her heart melted along with whatever last-ditch refusal her mind was attempting to compose. Shaking her head, she lifted her arms and closed the space between them in three steps. A sigh escaped her as his arms circled her in a tight embrace, and her mouth joined with his. The heat of him swept over her in a tidal wave, obliterating the coldness penetrating her soles from the tile floor.

  She clung to him, her fingers delving into the softness of his hair as their tongues traced the first steps of an erotic dance. She felt his hands slip under her T-shirt. A volley of shivers skated over her skin as he possessively cupped her bare buttocks, then slid his fingers in seductive circles over her hips and rib cage to finally lay claim to her breasts. Paulina arched against the heat of his palms, feeling a responsive inner clenching as his thumbs teased her nipples with exquisite care.

  Gil broke their kiss and laid a path of searing kisses down her neck that raised goose bumps on her arms. He tugged impatiently at her T-shirt with one hand, bunching it up as he bent his head to caress her breasts with his tongue, toying with the nubs until they jutted out proudly and she was panting with need. The moist heat of his mouth shattered her. She dug her fingers into his shoulders for support as the shards of her self-control melted into a simmering pool of tension.

  There was no going back. She wanted him too much.

  The hard planes and edges of his muscled body beckoned her to explore downward. She bypassed the row of silver buttons on his shirt and went straight for his leather belt. She loosened it with trembling hands and unzipped his jeans.

  Spurred on by Gil’s guttural moan and the thrusting of his hips, she slipped her fingers beneath the band of his briefs and palmed the smoothness of his powerful erection. Lord, he was magnificent, and she hadn’t gotten his clothes off yet.

  She felt the feathery brush of his fingers on her inner thigh and a jolt of sheer, sweet ecstasy as one finger dipped into her and found a point of intense pleasure.

  His touch felt so exquisitely right. She stroked him in return, wanting to give back as much as she got.

  Legs quaking from his tender assault, Paulina threw her head back. Her eyes lifted heavenward at the sensations rocketing through her like errant missiles set to explode. Her gaze fell on the brass stairwell light. Gradually, their surroundings registered in her passion-clouded thoughts. My God, they were on the landing! Not that anyone could see them from the carriageway below. But still…

  “Gil,” she whispered, nibbling on his ear, loathing to stop even for an instant. She traced the tip of his erection with her finger, empowered and awed by his straining response. He was so hard. She didn’t want anything to break the spell of what was happening between them. “We’re not inside my apartment yet.”

  He lifted his head from her breast, his breath tickling her taut nipple. “I can fix that,” he muttered hoarsely. He picked her up and she clung to him, hooking her legs tightly around his waist and nearly going mad at the feel of his maleness so close to the center of her desire.

  He kicked her apartment door shut. “Paulina, you feel so good,” he said thickly, pounding down the hallway to her bedroom.

  An unaccustomed shyness clutched her as he peeled off her T-shirt leaving her naked to his gaze, but it disappeared when she saw the wonder and desire glimmering in the depths of his eyes.

  “You’re so damn beautiful, Paulina. I want to love you and show you how special you are.”

  Paulina assumed he meant love in a physical sense, not an emotional sense, but she was beyond clarifying things. Her fingers were already helping him remove his jacket and shirt. Then his jeans and the sexy gray briefs. His arousal surged, warm and ready against her thigh as he joined her on the bed. She scooted closer to him, eager to receive his weight. Eager to receive him inside
her.

  “Not yet,” he said, parting her thighs. He stroked her with a skill that stopped all her objections and turned them into whimpers as she writhed beneath him. He kissed her deeply, tormenting her with the coaxing play of his tongue, while his other hand fondled her breast. Paulina felt the sensations overlap and merge, building steadily in an intensity that could have no end. But she was wrong.

  Calling out his name, she grasped his shoulders and hung on tightly as a spasm shuddered through her in a pulsing wave. She kissed him greedily, hungrily, as a second wave hit. Then another and another. And then she went over the edge into a dark abyss.

  Her skin was damp with perspiration when she finally opened her eyes and realized Gil was leaning over her, a distinctly proud male smile on his lips. She cupped his face and drew him down to kiss her, closing her eyes so he couldn’t see the wonder she felt burgeoning inside her. She and Karl had had a healthy sex life, but it had been nothing like this…Nothing that made her lose consciousness with pleasure.

  And if the slow, seductive way Gil was massaging her breasts and whispering promises in her ear was any indication, there was more to come. Her breasts felt full and achy as the restlessness renewed inside her. A restlessness for him. Her hands moved feverishly over the firm, smooth plates of his pectorals and the double ridges of his abs, seeking his maleness. She opened herself to him, urging him inside.

  “Wait, sweetheart. Let me protect you first,” Gil whispered.

  Paulina wasn’t sure where the foil packet came from, only that it took seconds that were too agonizingly long for him to sheathe himself. Then finally he pushed her back on the coolness of her sheets and entered her, inch by inch, until Paulina thought she’d go absolutely crazy with wanting him. She arched into him, meeting his powerful thrusts with everything in her. She could feel the tension tightening in the muscles of his back with each forceful thrust, his rhythm escalating. The tension between them built to a perfect sweetness, so fine and hard and tight.

  It was too much and too good…Just when Paulina thought she couldn’t take it anymore, Gil gave a final thrust and she soared on a crescendo of feeling as Gil shuddered and reached his own climax. She tightened her hold around his waist and pulled his full weight upon her, not yet willing for him to withdraw.

  She felt his every breath as his chest rose and fell rapidly. Every thunderous hammer of his heart echoed in her rib cage. Her hair stuck to his damp shoulder, but she didn’t care. She kissed his shoulder, tasting the faint saltiness of his skin, then snuggled her chin into the crook of his neck and smiled wryly. Now she knew how Eve must have felt after the first bite of that forbidden fruit. Hungry for more.

  THE WEIGHT OF A TREE limb pressed against her chest roused Paulina from sleep. Instinctively, she tried to push it off, but when her fingers came in contact with warm skin and crispy hair she realized Gil’s arm was thrown protectively across her and she was in the Garden of Eden. She touched him ever so lightly, not wanting to disturb him but needing to assure herself she wasn’t dreaming. That their lovemaking hadn’t been a fantasy.

  It wasn’t. He was real. The scent of their mating clung to her skin and the sheets. Last night was real. Details slowly filtered back to her—along with the sobering knowledge that had it not been for Gil’s foresight she would have slept with him without protection.

  She turned her head to look at his face, not knowing whether to be grateful to Gil or angry with herself.

  His features were obscured by shadow, but as her eyes adjusted to the dark, she was able to make out the contours of his cheeks, the strong edge of his jaw, the bump in his nose. His breath rasped against her bare skin. A stirring of emotion twisted sharp and sweet in her body. She stared at Gil for a long moment, battling the feeling, battling him, trying to deny his tender ministrations had made her so mindless she’d forgotten about birth control. She’d always been extremely careful—paranoid even—during her marriage. But then, truth to tell, she hadn’t needed birth control since she and Karl had parted.

  She ran her hand over her flat belly and said a quiet prayer of thanks that Gil had saved her from that worry—this time. But boy, oh, boy, every languid, satisfied inch of her body warned her she was still in deep, deep trouble.

  Wide-awake now, Paulina slipped out of bed being careful not to disturb Gil. She didn’t know how much sleep he’d had lately, but she would bet it wasn’t nearly enough. Shivering at the chill in the morning air, she fumbled on the floor for her T-shirt and found it heaped on top of her briefcase on the floor. She pulled her T-shirt over her head, then retrieved her briefcase and Mikey’s file and tiptoed into the living room. Work was always her cure for disturbing thoughts.

  She turned on the lights, pausing as her gaze fell on the photograph of her and her dad on her wedding day. She stepped closer, wishing her dad were here with her now.

  It occurred to her that Gil was much like her father. Gil wouldn’t give up searching for Mikey any more than her dad had given up searching for her. Paulina pressed her lips into a thin line. And her father had expected her mother to be content staying at home and raising Paulina. Her mother’s second act of independence—her first being to flee to the United States with Paulina—had been to get a job doing clerical work for an insurance company.

  Even if Paulina wanted a casual relationship with a man right now—her father had casually dated other women—Gil would not be a suitable candidate. Once they found Mikey, Gil would be searching for a woman to take care of his nephew.

  With a small sigh, Paulina piled her briefcase and file on her blanket chest-coffee table, then snuggled into the corner of the couch nearest the reading lamp and pulled a rose wool afghan across her lap. A searching parent had knitted the afghan. Paulina had located Diane Little’s five kids in a suburb of Los Angeles the previous year. They had been reunited with their mother and now lived in Windsor, Ontario.

  Paulina fingered the checkered pattern in the soft wool and smiled. Sometimes, all it took was a little reminder to get her head straight. She reached for her file, trying to remember where she’d left off reading the night before. With Tweedie? She found her notes about his conversation with Cindy and started to read.

  She hadn’t got past the third paragraph when two sentences seemed to leap off the page. “She said a man had given her an ultimatum—was trying to tell her what to do about the baby. I was under the impression she might have to give up her son.”

  Paulina drew in a sharp breath as a connection clicked in her brain. She reread the sentences a second time. Was it wishful thinking—or had she been looking at this case from the wrong angle?

  Chapter Nine

  What if the man Cindy referred to as pressuring her to give up her child was Jean-Luc—not Gil? Paulina’s thoughts raced as she explored the possibility. Maybe JeanLuc didn’t want anything to do with another man’s son and had encouraged Cindy to give Mikey up for adoption. Jean-Luc probably didn’t think anything of abandoning Mikey. Hadn’t Robbins said Jean-Luc’s father had cleared out when he was three years old?

  Everything seemed to fit. Cindy’s visits to Elva for counseling. The airplane tickets. Even the travel agent’s recollection that Cindy had seemed nervous and had held on to Mikey. But if Cindy wanted to abandon Mikey, why hadn’t she left him on Gil’s doorstep?

  Paulina could think of only one good reason.

  She scrambled off the couch and padded down the hallway. The morning’s first rays were streaming into her apartment. “Gil—” Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him sprawled across her bed, the sheets twisted around his body. She plunked herself down on the foot of her bed and patted his exposed, hairy calf. “Gil, wake up. I’ve got something to tell you.”

  He sat up instantly, the sheets and blankets gathered at his waist. His chest was absolutely magnificent. She schooled herself not to let her eyes travel the path of dark hair drifting down his tanned abdomen.

  He raked his hands through his disheveled hair, the musc
les in his chest rippling and creating yet another distracting temptation.

  “Hey, what’s up?” he asked sleepily.

  His indigo eyes focused and narrowed on her, conducting a lazy surveillance from her shoulders to her ankles. Paulina felt a compulsion to hitch her T-shirt down to cover more of her legs, but what would be the point? He’d seen all of her last night.

  She blushed, feeling heat steal over her. Was this the part in casual relationships where you asked how the sex was? Paulina could be frank in many situations, but this was not one of them. Karl had told her he loved her before they’d ever slept together. There was no love between her and Gil. Better she shouldn’t say anything.

  Instead, she told him her theory that Jean-Luc was the man pressuring Cindy to give up Mikey.

  “Wait a minute,” Gil said, “I’m not following you. If Cindy wanted to give up Mikey, why didn’t she ask me if I’d raise him? I’d already offered to take care of her.”

  “Because as kind and generous as you are,” she said very gently, “you wouldn’t give her a lump-sum payment for Mikey, and that’s what Jean-Luc was after so they could start a new life together someplace else. That’s why Jean-Luc quit his job and Cindy didn’t pay the rent. They didn’t intend to return.”

  Gil swore. “So what do you think happened?”

  “Well, this is all supposition, but what if Newcombe arranged an illegal adoption for Mikey and something went wrong? Cindy could have changed her mind at the last minute. In Ontario, it’s illegal for a birth parent or a thirdparty intermediary to receive any payment or gift in regard to an adoption. The lawyers themselves only receive established fees approved by the ministry. It’s a criminal offense to charge more.” She paused. “Of course, there are always ways to get around the law.”

  She didn’t tell Gil she’d actually been to Newcombe’s office and that Newcombe had expressly implied Gil was trying to take Mikey away from Cindy. How clever that seemed now on Newcombe’s part. She twitched the rumpled blanket. “Who’d suspect a respected lawyer of selling babies?” she said.