Corporate Daddy

by Arlene James

  Goody stalked back and forth at the end of the bed, waiting impatiently for Logan to look his fill and go. Logan smiled at the cat. “She’s worth protecting, isn’t she? She’s worth the world, my Amanda Sue. Okay, our Amanda Sue. But who’s protecting Emily now, hmm? Tell me that?”

  Maybe it was a job for which he could apply. He blew a kiss at his daughter and went out of the room, leaving the door carefully ajar. Walking past the bathroom, he went to the guest room door. Here the door was ajar, as well. Carefully pushing it open, he poked his head inside and saw Emily lying dead-center of the full-size bed. She rolled onto her back as he watched and sighed deeply through her nose, one hand coming up to rest on her stomach. Her long hair was trapped beneath her, and he itched to free it, spread it out upon the pillow and comb it with his fingers, feel it against his skin. He stepped out of his shoes and tiptoed inside.

  It was warmer upstairs than down, and the covers had drifted down around her waist, revealing those mannish pajamas she seemed to favor. He’d have to buy her a proper nightgown, something in silk and lace that plunged in front and was slit to the waist on the sides. Better yet, he’d like to keep her so warm that she gave up sleeping in clothing altogether. He was feeling rather warm himself at the moment. Smiling, he peeled off his sweater and undershirt, released and tugged free his belt and dropped everything in a heap on the floor, his socks going on top. He took the time to fold his slacks and drape them over the chair by the door. Naked except for a pair of silk boxers, he eased beside Emily on the bed and propped himself up on one elbow. She took a deep breath, her chest expanding beneath the cotton shirt. Carefully, he slipped the big buttons free of their holes and slid his hand inside. She moaned and edged toward him.

  Leaning down, he brushed his mouth across hers, inhaling the perfume of her, the clean, womanly aroma of Emily. “I’m home, Em,” he whispered. “I missed you.”

  “Miss you,” she mumbled. Then her lips quirked beneath his, and she pulled back into her pillow. “Logan?”

  “Yes.” He moved his hand up to cup her breast. “I couldn’t wait to make love to you.”

  She pushed a hand over her face, asking faintly, “Did I dream you?”

  He chuckled silently. “I don’t know. Did you? It would only be fair. I’ve been dreaming about you.”

  “What time is it?” she asked more cogently.

  “Around three in the morning.”

  She looked at him in surprise, her eyes gleaming in the moonlight that spilled through the window. “You aren’t supposed to be here until ten.”

  He smiled and tightened his hand. “I told you, I couldn’t wait.” He didn’t give her a chance to say anything else, just bowed his head and kissed her deeply. Her arms drifted up lazily and settled around his shoulders. Easing his weight down, he shifted until he lay partly atop her, upper body braced on one forearm. He kissed the corner of her mouth, then licked his way inside, drinking of her nectar.

  Spreading her pajama shirt wide, he slid his hand downward beneath the covers until he encountered the soft elastic waistband of her pants. “Em,” he whispered against her mouth, “Emily, my Emily.” He laid his forehead against hers. She was warm and pliant everywhere he touched. He wanted her on fire for him. “Let me in,” he pleaded. “Please let me in.”

  She caught a gasping breath that sounded almost like a sob. “I don’t think I can keep you out!”

  Elated, he rose above her on his knees and shoved down his boxers, stripping them off before sweeping back the covers and inserting his fingers beneath the waistband of her cotton pajamas. He gently eased them down, spreading kisses in their wake and smiling against her skin at the small gasps and trembling sighs he elicited. Remembering how she had come apart in his arms the last time he’d had her beneath him, he longed to bring her to climax again, but he had promised himself that he would be inside her the next time, that she would be tied to him in that much at least.

  Dropping her pajama bottoms on the floor, he kissed the arch of her foot and nibbled an appetizing ankle before covering her body with his. The feel of all that skin was exquisite. Emily put her head back and cried out softly as he rubbed his chest against hers, his hips finding the cradle of hers, their legs tangling. He sank his teeth into the delicate flesh beneath her chin, and she undulated beneath him like a wave upon a crystal blue ocean.

  “Let me in, sweetheart,” he repeated against her mouth. “Let me in.” She turned her face away, but he nuzzled her ear, kissing and tasting. After a moment she opened her legs. He settled between them, her silken nakedness screwing his eyes shut in breathless ecstasy. Clamping down on the sensation, he gritted his teeth and brought himself back to the moment, aware for the first time that she had gone rigid. Bracing his upper body weight on his elbows, he used his hands to coax her face back to his.

  “I need you, Em,” he whispered, and her bottom lip trembled. He kissed it, nibbled it, licked the sensitive flesh inside until her arms came around him again. He kissed her fully, making it last a long, long time, sliding his tongue in and out, biting gently, sucking, licking. When she began to writhe sinuously beneath him, he slid a hand down to one knee and pulled it upward, intending to ease down between her legs so that he could push upward again and finally join them. It was exactly then that Amanda Sue screamed.

  “Aaaaaah! Da-a-a-dy-y-y-y!”

  At once exasperated and concerned, Logan turned his head in the direction of the door, the sobs and wails tearing at him even as he wanted to ignore them.

  “Daddy! Da-ha-ha-dyyy!”

  “I’ll go,” Emily muttered, as if waking from a drugged sleep and pushing against him.

  Logan bit back a sigh. “No, I’ll do it.” He kissed her quickly and pushed back off the bed. He let his gaze sweep over her sleek body as he yanked on his slacks. “You’re beautiful,” he said. “Perfect. I won’t be long.” Then he turned away and was out the door. “I’m coming, Amanda Sue.”

  At the sound of his voice her cries took on an eager tone, and he knew with a pang of delight that his little girl had, indeed, missed him. Despite his frustration, he couldn’t help smiling as wide as the moon as she came into his arms, sobbing out his name. Goody quickly disappeared now that reinforcements had arrived. “Coward,” Logan teased, his irritation having disappeared in the wealth of the moment. What did he have to be irritated about when his soft, warm little girl clung to him with undisguised affection and the love of his life waited for him to return to her bed?

  He changed a very wet diaper and then spent some time talking to his daughter, telling her how much he’d missed her and how glad he was to be home. “I love you, angel, love you so much.” It struck him how often he used those words now and how seldom he had used them in the past.

  “Oan bobble,” she demanded, putting him firmly in his place. He chuckled. Had Emily been giving her a bottle again? He thought they’d just about broken the habit before he’d left. Maybe his absence had been more traumatic than he’d realized.

  “Let’s see what Emily has to say about that.”

  He carried Amanda Sue to the guest room, knocked on the door frame and stepped inside, “Honey, she wants—” He stopped, staring at an empty bed. Turning around, he looked to the bathroom. The door stood open, the room dark. A feeling of unease gripped him. “Emily?” he called, hurrying toward the stairs. He had taken three of the steps when he heard the front door close. The hollow, muted sound was a knife in the chest. “Emily?” he said again, but he knew that he was talking to an empty house. He stood there on the staircase, one hand on the banister, the other holding his daughter to his chest, and felt his heart cracking in two.

  It was after ten later that morning before she showed up again. Logan sat in one corner of the sofa, angry, hurt and exhausted, while Amanda Sue played in his lap with a set of interconnecting plastic rings he’d brought her from New York, the cat spread out beside them. He had left the bottle of expensive perfume he’d bought for Emily on the dresser in its cell
ophane-sealed box, wondering if she would ever wear it. He’d come very near to pouring it down the toilet.

  She tucked her keys into her pocketbook and dropped it onto the chair seat. “I thought you might want to sleep late,” she said, her gaze failing to meet his.

  “How kind,” he drawled sarcastically. “Of course, that’s assuming that I actually managed to sleep.”

  She winced slightly at that, but made no direct comment. “Have you had breakfast? Want some coffee?”

  “Yes and no.”

  She nodded and cast a longing glance toward the kitchen, but he was beyond pity.

  “Well, aren’t you going to say how Amanda Sue and I needed some time alone together after my absence?” He waited but she didn’t say anything. “Maybe there was a fire somewhere that demanded your immediate attention?” he prodded. When she didn’t reply to that, he quirked a brow into an angry arch. “Oh, I know. Ciara Wilde forgot her lines and telegraphed you a mental message for help.”

  Taking a deep breath, she faced him finally. “You took me by surprise,” she explained tonelessly. “When I had a moment to think rationally, I realized what a mistake we were making.”

  “A mistake,” he echoed. “Because I’m your boss. The job is that important to you?”

  “Yours isn’t?” she shot back.

  “No.”

  She scoffed, her expression clearly skeptical. “You’re telling me you’d give up your job with the family company for a night of sex!”

  He wanted to throw something, hit something. Fortunately Amanda Sue was sitting in his lap. Hands coiled into fists, he strove for some semblance of calm. “I never said that. You know perfectly well I never said that. What I want from you is—”

  “It’s a bad idea, Logan!” she interrupted sharply. “And it isn’t going to happen again.” She folded her arms protectively, her gaze trained on the floor at her feet. He stared at her for a long time. She was as closed to him as ever, perhaps more so. She didn’t care about him. It was a job to her, nothing more.

  “All right,” he said finally, struggling to keep the hurt out of his voice. He gathered his daughter into his arms and got to his feet. “In that case, you’re late for work, and because you’re late, so am I. I suggest you watch Amanda Sue while I get dressed.”

  Emily nodded without looking at him. He set Amanda Sue on her feet. Emily crouched down and held open her arms. Amanda Sue ran to her, and he turned away. For the first time in his life, he knew what it meant to really lose, and he wondered how he could possibly endure it.

  When the telephone rang, she knew that she had been waiting for it. Nowhere near sleep, she rolled over in her slightly squeaky bed and switched on the lamp before sitting up, knees drawn to her chest, and reaching for the telephone receiver. She missed Goody, even though the silly cat would only have hopped down from the bed and stalked away, indignant at having his slumber interrupted.

  “Hello?”

  She could hear the screams in the background. “Can you talk to her?” Logan said without preamble.

  “Yes, of course.” She heard him explaining to Amanda Sue that Emily was on the telephone, and wanted to talk to her, but Amanda Sue was having none of it. Emily sighed.

  For three nights in a row now, Amanda Sue had awakened demanding to see her. The first night Logan had not called. He’d simply endured, and it had taken its toll on him and Amanda Sue both the next morning. Emily had never seen him looking so tired and beaten. For her part, Amanda Sue had hung around Emily’s neck and wept as if her heart was broken. She’d stayed glued to Emily’s side throughout the day and demanded her father several times, which they’d accomplished via telephone. He’d come home early from work, only to call later that evening to ask her to speak to Amanda Sue. That had seemed to calm her, but yesterday had been a difficult day with Amanda Sue pitching a fit when her father had left for work and again when Emily had left for home. Now she was refusing to speak to Emily on the telephone, demanding instead that Emily come to her.

  “Maybe she’s sick,” Logan ventured, coming back to the phone defeated.

  “Have you taken her temperature?”

  “I tried to, but she screamed, ‘No. Mimly.’ I guess that means she wants you to do it. In fact, she seems to want you to do everything.”

  “Just when I’m not there apparently,” Emily told him. “She was the same way about you today. She wouldn’t eat her lunch, just kept demanding, ‘Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.”’

  “I should never have taken that trip,” he said, and his voice sounded muffled, as if he were rubbing a hand over his face.

  “You didn’t have any choice in the matter, as I recall,” Emily told him briskly. “Anyway, the question is, what do we do now?”

  Logan sighed, Amanda Sue sobbing in the background. “I was hoping you’d tell me. You’re the expert.”

  She ignored that, knowing the acerbic tone was due more to exhaustion than anything else. Mentally, she went through their options. It didn’t take long. They didn’t have many. “I think I should call the pediatrician tomorrow and make an appointment. Tonight, I suggest a mild analgesic and a bottle of warm milk.”

  “I’ve tried that,” he said with great frustration. “She threw it at me and demanded that you do it.”

  “All right,” Emily said, resignedly making a decision she’d rather have avoided. “I’ll be right over.”

  “Emily’s coming,” she heard him tell Amanda Sue as he hung up the phone.

  As she pulled on her clothes, she couldn’t help musing sadly that he’d offered no words of gratitude or praise this time. But then why should he? It was a job, nothing more. She was quite sure that she’d find overtime compensation included in her next paycheck, and that was the way it should be, the way she wanted it.

  So why did it hurt so badly?

  Eleven

  The next morning, Logan and Emily took Amanda Sue to the doctor. Her examination complete, Dr. Costas sat down at the minuscule desk built into one wall and gave them her diagnosis. “Her ears, throat and nose are a little red, but that’s to be expected with all this crying. Also, her gums are a little swollen. She’s probably cutting teeth. Otherwise she seems in excellent condition. I’d say the problem is emotional, and that’s understandable—no?—with all she’s been through.”

  “How do you mean that exactly?” Logan asked, and Dr. Costas shrugged.

  “Children grieve as we do, Mr. Fortune. She lost her mother. Strangers took over her care. She made that adjustment, and now she has her father and— I’m sure you see the logic in this—also a mother in you, Emily. I suspect that she was just truly growing secure again when you had to go out of town. Emily was there all the time, of course, but there was anxiety. Then, as soon as her father returned, Emily began disappearing again for long periods. She has to be confused. What child would not be, eh? She is afraid, Mr. Fortune, and it’s quite natural. We call it separation anxiety. I think she will adjust in time, but the fewer changes the better for a while.”

  Logan glanced at Emily, then down at his daughter who contentedly played in Emily’s lap, and his jaw hardened. He turned back to the doctor. “Would it help if Emily stayed the night with her? If she moved in for a while?”

  Dr. Costas nodded. “That would be ideal, actually, but it might take some weeks for Amanda Sue to grow secure enough to begin weaning her away with occasional absences, but if it’s done gradually, I’m sure she will come to accept Emily’s absence without fear. Is that possible, Emily?”

  Emily knew she had to do it, even though she felt most unfairly trapped by the situation. She nodded resignedly. “Yes, I can move in temporarily.”

  Dr. Costas seemed pleased, but had a final caution. “I would suggest that you avoid going out of town again anytime soon, Mr. Fortune, if at all possible.”

  “Don’t worry,” he said, stroking Amanda Sue’s head. “I’m not going anywhere until she understands that I’ll return to her.”

  “I’ll write a
prescription for an analgesic,” the doctor said, doing just that, “something to reduce inflammation. But I’d rather not give her an antibiotic at this time. If she should start to run a fever, though, please call the office at once.” She tore off the prescription and handed it to Logan, who folded it and put it in his pocket. “Now,” she said with a smile, “can I do anything else for you?”

  Logan shook his head. “No. Thank you for seeing us so quickly, though, Dr. Costas.”

  “My pleasure,” she said, getting to her feet. She shook Amanda Sue’s small hand, saying, “Goodbye, Amanda Sue Fortune. Be well.” With that, she smiled and left the room.

  Emily hung the last of her meager temporary wardrobe in the guest room closet and closed the bifold door. She was unpacked. She had moved into the house with Logan Fortune and his troubled daughter. The psych ward couldn’t be far away. How was she going to endure living side by side with the one man she wanted but could not have? She turned toward the door, only to find Logan standing there, arms folded, watching her.

  “All settled in?”

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. He stepped into the room, his hands going to his hips and his gaze to the bed where they had come so near to making love. The expression with which he faced her again was shuttered.

  “I, um, hope you know how much I appreciate this,” he began. “You’ll be suitably compensated, I promise.”

  That stung—unfairly, she thought. “Stop it!” she snapped. “You know very well that I’m not doing this to earn money.”

  He bowed his head. “Of course. You care about Amanda Sue. I didn’t mean to imply that you don’t. I guess I just have a hard time accepting that you don’t care about me.”

  She had to stiffen her arms to keep from throwing them around him. Swallowing, she turned away. “That isn’t so. I care about you very much, but that doesn’t have to lead to sex, you know. It’s the sex I consider inappropriate.”