by Ginna Gray
"Oh, dear. What can we do for her?"
"What worked best on Mike was a little heat." He undid the drawstring at the bottom of the baby's nightgown and shoved it up under her armpits. Then he put her to his shoulder again, but this time he pulled her legs down until her tummy was flat against his naked chest. She shrieked louder and tried to draw her knees up again, but he held her pressed tightly to him not allowing the maneuver. In the nursery he pulled a light blanket from her crib and wrapped it around her. Keeping up a low, consoling murmur, he walked the floor, giving the infant his caring and his heat.
It took almost an hour, but finally the fractious baby quieted. When Ryan eased her into the crib his chest hairs were matted with sweat, but Molly slept in peaceful innocence, her long lashes fanned out over cherubic cheeks.
Tess tucked the light cover around her, and she and Ryan shared a relieved look. They tiptoed out, pulling the door partway closed behind them.
In the dimly lit hallway, Tess turned to Ryan and exhaled a long sigh, all the tension draining out of her. "Thank goodness."
"Mmm," he grunted in agreement and braced his hand against the wall above her shoulder. "She wore herself out. She ought to sleep a good long while."
"I hope so. It's almost dawn." Tess smiled wanly. "Thank you. I don't know what I would have done without your help."
He did not reply. He simply stood there, looking at her, his face serious and taut. Beneath half-closed lids his eyes glittered.
Without warning, the air in the dimly lit hallway came alive with a different kind of tension. It crackled around them like heat lightning, making breathing difficult.
Tess nervously fiddled with the full sleeves on her robe, conscious suddenly of how she must look with her hair mussed, her face scrubbed clean of makeup. Unable to meet Ryan's intense stare, she lowered her gaze, only to encounter his broad chest and the wedge of damp black curls that covered it. She looked aside, and nearly moaned when her gaze locked on the tuft of hair beneath his arm. She had never been so acutely aware of a man in her life. He was so big, so beautifully made, so blatantly male.
Standing this close, she inhaled his wonderful male scent with each breath she took—dark and slightly musky, tinged with some citrusy smelling soap. And incredibly erotic.
Her eyes dropped to the unbuttoned waistband of his jeans, and she swallowed hard. He was almost naked. She tugged the front edges of her robe together, conscious all at once that the insubstantial garment and the thin silk gown it covered were all she wore. Immediately her nipples puckered against the silk.
Tess told herself to move, but her muscles seemed to have stopped working.
"I, uh... it's late. I know you must be ti—"
Ryan leaned down and captured her mouth with his, cutting off the words.
Tess's heart leaped. Pleasure, fear, excitement—all exploded inside her at once. She moaned, and her hands fluttered uncertainly. A part of her wanted to push him away. Another part wanted to cling to that warm, hard body and never let go. Which instinct would have won she never had a chance to discover, for when her fingertips grazed Ryan's bare chest, he grasped her waist with both hands, backed her against the wall and pressed his body tightly against hers.
Sensations overwhehned her. She felt her unbound breasts flatten against the solid wall of his chest, the ticklish brush of hair against her skin above the scoop-neck gown and robe, the rigid evidence of his desire pressing into her abdomen.
Hot and hungry, his mouth rocked over hers, urging her Ups apart. She obeyed the ravenous urging with no thought of resistance. With quick, sure strokes his tongue thrust into her mouth, telhng her of his impatient need, setting fire to her own.
Tess's womb tightened. A searing heat spread outward from that intimate core. Feelings she thought had been buried with Tom, passions she hadn't ever expected to feel again, came surging to the surface. She shivered and made a desperate sound. Somehow—she didn't know when—her arms had found their way around his neck, and she ching to him, straining to get closer, desire coiling through her.
The thin layers of silk between them were at once an unbearable barrier and no protection at all against erotic sensations. She squirmed, and Ryan made a low, savage sound at the rub of her hardened nipples against his chest.
The burning kiss went on and on, neither aware of anything beyond their need for one another. Then, without warning, Ryan jerked away from her.
An involuntary whimper of protest shuddered from Tess, but before her rubbery knees could give way beneath her, he swooped her up in his arms and strode into her bedroom.
He lowered her to the mattress and followed her down in one quick movement, covering her body with his. "Tess. Tess." He muttered her name like a litany, his breath hot and moist against the side of her neck. "I can't fight this any longer. I've tried, but 1 can't. I won't," he declared in a low guttural voice. "I want you too much."
His teeth nipped her flesh, and she gasped and arched her neck in silent supplication. "Say you want me, too?" he demanded. He raised up partway, and in the faint glow of light seeping in from the living room she saw the hard ght-ter in his eyes. "Say it."
Tess was on fire. Frantic. She clutched his bare back, her fingers digging into the hard muscled flesh. "Yes. Yes, I want you. Oh, Ryan—"
She was given no time to say more. His mouth fused with hers in a kiss so rawly possessive, Tess knew a moment of panic. Then the fire flamed higher and reality fled. In its place was only sensuous pleasure and the pounding urgency of desire.
The feel of Ryan's rough hands gliding over her smooth skin was so erotic that Tess was only remotely aware of the wispy gown and robe being stripped away. When those same callused palms cupped her breasts, her back arched and she held her breath in anticipation. For a moment nothing happened, and she knew a twinge of disappointment. When her heavy eyelids lifted she saw that he was staring at her, and the feverish look in his eyes held her spellbound.
"God, you're beautiful," he whispered, fondling her gently. "So full, and soft and—"
She sucked in her breath as his thumbs grazed across the pebbled hard crests.
"Tess. Sweet, sweet Tess." A heartbeat later, his lips closed over a distended bud. The pleasure was so great, she cried out. Of their own volition, her hands clasped his head, holding him against her. His flicking tongue stroked and circled and nudged. The savoring torment almost drove her wild, and just when she thought she could bear no more, he drew on her sweetly. With each gentle tug she felt her womb contract.
With a curse, Ryan rolled away and sprang off the bed. Shivering, her heart pounding, Tess watched him snatch open the few fastened buttons on his jeans. In mere seconds he had shucked out of the denim pants and kicked them aside. Then he was back, and Tess sighed at the first touch of his warm flesh against hers.
His mouth found hers again, and for long moments the only sounds in the dimly lit room were sighs and low moans, the rasp of labored breathing.
Ryan pulled back. He cradled her face between his palms and seared her with a look so ardent her heart skipped a beat. "Tess. God, Tess, I have to have you. Now."
"Yes. Yes." she gasped, clutching him to her.
"Sweet-"
They froze at the shrill ring of the doorbell. It was followed almost at once by three soft raps on the door.
"Dad? Are you still there?"
Chapter 9
The sound of Mike's worried voice snapped them to their senses as effectively as a douse of cold water.
Biting out a string of vivid curses, Ryan sprang from the bed. He snatched up his jeans and shoved his legs into them, hopping on one foot, then the other.
Tess started to rise too, but he stopped her with a gruff, "Stay there. I'll handle this."
He paused in the act of buttoning his jeans, his eyes flickering over her. Belatedly Tess remembered that she was naked, and in a reflexive move she crossed her arms over her breasts. Her entire body flushed scalding red. Frantically, she reached down
to the foot of the bed where the covers lay in a bunch, grabbed the sheet and pulled the thin covering over her body. As she tucked it securely under her armpits, she felt Ryan's eyes on her, but she couldn't bring herself to look at him.
The knock sounded again. "Dad?"
Without a word, Ryan stomped out of the room.
Tess sank back onto the pillow. Clutching the sheet to her, she curled into a ball and stared into the darkness, appalled and shaken. She heard the door open, heard the murmur of Ryan and Mike's voices. Then the door chcked and there was only silence.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she bit her lower lip. Oh, Lord. How could she have been so foolish? She should have done something—said something—to stop what was happening before it got out of hand. Beneath his hard exterior, Ryan was a good man. One word from her, the least sign of resistance, and he would have backed off.
But did she do anything to discourage him? Tess gave a bitter little laugh. Oh, no. Not her. At his first touch she had practically melted and run all over him.
Recalling those torrid moments in Ryan's arms, she moaned and buried her face in the pillow. Even now, just thinking about those callused hands sliding over her skin made her tingle all over and brought another rush of embarrassed heat.
What was happening to her? Her behavior had been shameless. Wanton. But, heaven help her, it had felt so wonderful to be held in Ryan's arms, crushed against that magnificent body. And the things he had made her feel. She had never experienced pleasure that intense before... not even with Tom. And she had loved him.
Tess sucked in her breath. Eyes growing wide, she pressed her fist against her mouth. No. No, she wasn't falling in love with Ryan. She couldn't be. He was nothing like her gentle, sweet Tom, and she had loved him dearly. She still did, she vowed. She did!
She squeezed her eyes shut and tried desperately to visualize Tom's face, but the image would not form. Instead it was Ryan's dark, brooding visage that swam in her mind's eye.
An anguished cry tore from Tess and she pummeled the pillow. No! No! It couldn't be! But deep inside, she knew that it was true. She had committed the most foolhardy act of her Hfe; she had fallen in love with Ryan McCall—an angry, embittered man whose heart was encased in ice.
Fool! Fool! Fool! How could you be so stupid? she berated herself, swiping at the tears that streamed down her cheeks.
❧
For the next hour, Tess tossed and turned, but her thoughts continued to torment her and sleep would not come. When the first pale light of dawn began to seep through the window, she gave up and tossed the sheet aside.
Climbing from the bed, she looked at the gown and robe that lay on the floor in a crumpled heap. Unable to bear the thought of putting them on again, she stuffed the silk nightwear into the hamper and dressed in an old pair of jeans and a baggy sweater.
After checking on Molly, who was still sleeping peacefully, Tess went into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. She was standing at the sink, sipping a mug of the fresh brew and staring listlessly out the window at the sunrise when she heard the soft tap on the door.
She jumped and looked toward the sound, her expression pained. At that hour of the morning the caller could only be Ryan. She wasn't ready to face him. It was too soon. She still felt too raw, too vulnerable. For a moment she thought about ignoring the summons, but she had no choice. Ryan knew she was there.
With a feeling of dread, she went to the door and opened it.
He stood there staring at her, his vivid blue eyes intense and brooding. Tess's heart began an erratic beat. For several awkward moments, neither spoke. On the humid morning air the combined scents of soap and after-shave, along with a faint whiff of laundry starch, drifted to her, and she realized that he had shaved and showered. In freshly laundered jeans and a chambray work shirt, his still damp hair slicked back from his face, he looked bandbox clean... and so ruggedly handsome and appealing the sight of him made her ache.
Ryan shifted his feet. She crossed her arms defensively over her middle. Exhaling a sigh, he folded his lips together in a thin line and looked away to one side. Tess's gaze swept over the potted plants down in the courtyard, the pink-tinged sky, then dropped and fixed on the toes of her sneakers as though she found them fascinating. The awkward silence was broken by only the distant hum of traffic and the twitter of sparrows in search of an early morning tidbit.
"Look, I'm sorry about what happened," Ryan snapped in a terse voice that made her flinch. "It was a mistake. We were both worried about Molly and tired from lack of sleep and not thinking straight. I guess you could call it midnight madness."
Though Tess had expected him to say something of the sort, each word stabbed her aching heart. Nevertheless, she somehow kept her expression impassive. She even managed a wan smile. "I understand. And I'm sure you're right."
"It won't happen again. I just wanted you to know that."
"No. I'm sure it won't." She hated the stilted, polite way she was speaking, but at the moment it was all she could manage.
"Good. I'm glad we got that settled."
The awkward silence returned. Tess glanced down and was surprised to see that she still held the coffee mug in her hand. She looked back at Ryan and gestured behind her. "I just made a pot of coffee. Would you like to come in and have some?"
"No thanks. I need to go to Wildwood today. I've got some paperwork to tend to before the crew gets there."
It was a transparent excuse and they both knew it. Ryan rarely left for work before eight.
"I see. Well then, I guess I'll see you later."
For an instant, his eyes glittered and his jaw tightened, but then he jerked his chin in a curt nod. "Yeah, sure."
❧
To his credit, Ryan did try. They both did. Work was winding down on the apartment rebuilding and all the repairs were done, so he began spending more and more time at the development site, but he still dropped by her apartment every evening. His attachment to Molly did not diminish; if anything, his love for her daughter deepened by the day. He treated her as though she were his own and took all the mess and inconvenience that came with babies in stride, never raising a hair when she spit up beets on his boots or when a leaky diaper left a wet spot on his shirt.
If at times Tess caught him staring at her intently, she ignored the leap of her pulse and pretended not to notice. There was no future in loving Ryan; he would never open his heart to a woman again.
At least they had managed to salvage their friendship. Sort of.
Ryan and Mike still came to dinner two or three evenings a week. She still saw them as much as before. Ryan still gave her a hand when she needed one. He had even baby-sat for her once or twice. Even so, despite Mike's exuberant presence and her and Ryan's determined efforts to forget that night, there was a strain between them now, a fine coil of tension that ran just beneath the surface that neither mentioned but of which both were aware.
It revealed itself in small sad ways. In the determined friendliness of their conversations, the way they jerked apart whenever they accidentally touched, the way they both avoided direct eye contact or being alone together or any situation that could possibly bring them closer.
Such as the one that arose at Thanksgiving.
Ryan dutifully passed on his mother's invitation for her and Molly to join the family for the holiday weekend. Tess longed to accept, but she knew it wasn't wise. When she declined with a made-up excuse, she could tell that he was relieved.
The four days that Ryan and Mike were in Crockett were the loneliest that Tess could remember since that awful period right after Tom's death.
Amanda was out of town that weekend, also, visiting her mother in Arizona, so Tess was all alone. It seemed foolish to cook the traditional feast for herself. She thought about going to the local cafeteria for a turkey dinner, but even that seemed like too much effort. In the end she had warmed-over chicken and dumplings for her holiday meal and spent most of the weekend either watching television or doing busy
work to fill the time, things like polishing silver and reorganizing perfectly straight dresser drawers.
On Sunday evening when she heard Ryan and Mike climb up the stairs and enter their apartment, she felt ridiculously relieved and happy. That night she slept like a rock, something she hadn't done the previous four.
❧
The next morning her euphoria faded when it occurred to her that the long weekend was a taste of what her life would have been like had she not met Ryan and his son—-what it would be like if she lost them. Bleak and empty and lonely.
The thought was disturbing, especially when she allowed herself to consider how unlikely it was that they would still be neighbors ten years from now, or even five. These days, long-term friendships were difficult. People flitted in and out of your life with such frequency that many didn't even bother to get to know their neighbors; they could be gone tomorrow.
If their relationship ended it would be doubly painful, for she would lose both Ryan and Mike, and she loved them both, father and son. However, even with her optimistic nature, Tess could not deny that their eventual parting seemed inevitable.
Their lives slipped back into the same pattern of uneasy friendship it had followed for the past few weeks, and Tess tried not to think about the future.
❧
One afternoon, a week after Ryan and Mike's return, she was powdering Molly's bottom when the doorbell rang. "Who in the world could that be?" she muttered, glancing at the clock. Her daughter pumped her legs and squealed. Hastily, Tess fastened the diaper and scooped the baby up.
The bell rang again before she reached the door. "Hold your horses. I'm coming," Tess muttered. In the entry she looked through the peephole and her jaw dropped.
"Oh, my word." She looked down at her daughter and huffed indignantly. "Do you believe the nerve of some people?"