It wasn’t long before her mind drifted to how this new living arrangement was going to work out. Her cooking was marginal at best. Dean obviously hadn’t starved as a single man, so maybe he had more hidden talents. They could order out. Hire a cook. But bringing in too many eyes of domestic help could backfire. Although Katie had dodged the media in the past year, they still knew of her. If they found her with a baby, she would make the tabloids and rumors would fly.
Low profile. That’s what she had to remember.
The hair on her neck prickled and she turned toward the open door leading into the house.
Dean leaned against the frame, a bouquet of white roses sitting limply in his hand. His eyes were soft, the smile he wore could only be described as dreamy.
“You’re home early,” she said softly.
Dean unceremoniously dropped the flowers on the table beside her and captured her face in his palms. His lips were warm and welcoming and edged on desperate. Dean brought her to her feet without words, kept her lips locked to his.
She knew how he felt. The enormity of them living together, of their growing feelings for the other…all of that played out as he kissed her. His tongue traveled into her mouth and traced hers. The prickling of her skin she’d experienced as he watched from the doorway started to tingle down her spine.
Her breasts pushed against his chest and she held his waist tightly.
She was breathless when he stopped kissing her long enough to breathe.
“You’re really here.”
She kissed his chin and drew in his fresh pine scent. “We are.”
Dean traced the sides of her face with his thumbs. “Where’s Savannah?”
“Guest room. Napping.”
He lifted one eyebrow and said, “Good.” He tugged her into the house, closed the door, and moved them to the living room before he started kissing her all over again.
His intention was clear and she was more than willing to consummate their new arrangement.
The buttons of her silk shirt were undone, each one with a kiss and a press of Dean’s tongue against her skin. When only her baby blue lace bra covered her torso, she repeated Dean’s movements and removed his shirt with slow kisses.
The feel of his broad chest and tight abs played at the edges of her fingertips. How many nights had she thought of touching him again, of tasting him? She circled his nipples with her tongue, and laid playful bites when they pebbled. Dean loved foreplay, almost as much as she did. He pressed against her as they stood next to the couch, his erection stiff within his jeans.
He stopped the nipple play by backing her down and covering her half-clothed body with his. “I want to make love to you in every room in this house,” he said against her ear.
“Sounds like a challenge.”
Dean kissed the portion of her breast not covered by her bra. “We know you like a challenge.”
She moaned as he blew hot air through the thin layer of cloth covering her breast. He chuckled quietly, circled his hand around her back, and unclasped her bra. He laved each nipple until they were tight with need and her hips bucked against his.
The couch cushioned one of her legs as Dean moved lower, his tongue dancing across her belly. The desire to tear into his clothes and have him naked and covering her clouded her brain. Equal parts of her wanted to feel him, all of him, deep inside her while her body craved the teasing kisses and scrapes of his teeth.
He wiggled her out of the linen slacks she wore. Her barely-there panties were moist already when he kissed around the straps holding the material together. “I love how you smell,” he told her, running his tongue around the edge of her panties. “How you taste.”
Her body clenched.
As he moved lower to sample her, she held him away.
“I want to taste you,” she told him.
His eyes twitched. “Later,” he said.
But she didn’t want to wait. Her body was so fired up, he could look at her and she’d explode. It was time to welcome him home.
Katie pushed up and ran her hands down his chest before finding the clasp of his jeans.
“Now.”
Dean lifted his hands as if in surrender and helped her relieve him of his clothes.
His thick erection strained against his stomach and her mouth watered. Katie moved so he could lie on the couch before she ran her fingertips along his hip.
The tips of her hair brushed against his penis and he said something under his breath. Katie smiled, kissed his hip, and let her cheek rest against his desire. She teased him as he had done her when they’d made love before.
With only her lips, her tongue, she tasted. His hand fell to her shoulder as he moaned. She smiled around him and took as much as she could manage.
“Fuck.”
She giggled. “Not yet.”
“Oh, darlin’.”
Yeah, she knew the feeling. So she kept going, taking him, and ignoring her own empty body. Dean would take care of her no matter how far he allowed this to go.
A tiny taste splashed on her tongue and Dean pulled her away.
“C’mere,” he groaned.
She crawled up his body and kissed him.
Dean pushed her panties off and ran his hand along her butt with a playful squeeze.
His wet kisses stilled long enough to say. “Condom, back pocket…wallet.”
Instead of reaching for his jeans, she nudged his legs between hers and opened wide for him. “You of all people know there’s no need.” They’d already talked about their health, and that wasn’t a concern. If moving in wasn’t a sign of commitment, Katie wasn’t sure what else there was.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
She felt the tip of him slide against her. “I want to feel you…all of you, inside me.”
He grinned and she sank onto him.
On top, she set the pace. The small confines of the couch made for different angles and sparks of pleasure from different places.
There was no energy for talking as they both plunged, kissed, and licked their way toward climax.
He was the only man she’d ever felt safe enough with to enjoy making love without a barrier. The heat of him and the feel of him making her slicker deep inside brought on a swift and powerful orgasm. She hardly settled into a pace when he thrust faster and tumbled her over the edge.
The warm gush of his seed filled her and God help her, she peaked again.
Katie lay limply in his arms as the world returned. The deep thud of his heart against his chest met her ear and took its time slowing down.
“We’re throwing the condoms away,” she told him.
“We are?”
“Yeah…we are.”
His chest rumbled and she closed her eyes and simply enjoyed a few quiet moments in his arms.
As it turned out, neither one of them really cooked. Dean had the barbeque thing down. He was down-home Texas that way. But when it came to dishes off the grill, they were painfully dependent on the microwave.
Not that he expected Katie to know her way around a kitchen. He knew the life she’d lived before, and it wasn’t full of domestic chores. There had always been a housekeeper at her father’s ranch and a cook at the hotel.
Dean didn’t care. He happily moved the guest bed out of the extra room and they set up a proper nursery for Savannah. After only a couple of nights in his home, Savannah was sleeping for six solid hours. A blessing according to Katie.
As a welcome home gift to her, he framed a picture he’d taken of Savannah and Katie together and wrapped it pink paper.
For a woman who understood four-hundred-dollar dinners in five-star restaurants and whose shoe collection alone could feed a small country…it was the small things she was taking pleasure in now.
She loved the gift and set it on his fireplace mantel along with other family photos he had displayed.
“This one was all of you as kids, right?”
He and his siblings had been dragged to plenty of
photographers growing up. His mother had given him this particular picture when he moved away. All four of them were under the age of seven, his youngest sister barely old enough to sit on her own. In fact, she leaned against Dean in the picture and the photographer managed to get her smiling.
Dean glanced between the photos and noticed the same round cheeks, and same button nose, between Savannah and Ella.
It was natural to see your own face in that of a child…a child you wanted as your own. At least that’s what he told himself.
Unable to stop himself, later that night he dug into an old box of photos and found more childhood memories.
He realized that he and his siblings all had the same nose. Funny how he hadn’t noticed it before. Even his nephew had the Prescott button as a baby. He shook aside his thoughts. He’d come to terms with Katie’s inability to have his child long ago. He’d give up his ability to have a child who looked like him to keep Katie in his life any day.
Watching Katie with Savannah proved that being a parent had more to do with your heart than it did with DNA.
It was then he realized that he could easily see himself as a full-time dad, a father to Savannah, and not just on a temporary basis.
It was too soon to push Katie into a deeper commitment. And without the private detective determining some answers, she wouldn’t want to make any more changes.
“You’re rushing, Dean,” he scolded himself. The girls had only been living under his roof for a few days and already he was trying to see his face in Savannah’s, and Katie’s life in his, permanently.
They needed to work through a few things before he could jump to the next level. And hadn’t he jumped with Maggie?
No, he’d take this slower. Like the good Southern boy he could be.
When he wanted to.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Patrick called her at work. He was arriving at the hotel and wanted to know if he could meet her there within the hour.
He had information and wanted to deliver it to her in person.
Katie’s hands shook as she spoke quietly into the phone. “Do you know who she is?”
“I need confirmation…but I think you may be able to do that for me. Is your suite being used?”
“No. I’ll call the hotel and tell them to let you in.”
“Good,” Patrick said into the phone. “Oh—and, Katie, come alone.”
Now the hair on the nape of her neck stood on end. Her first thought was to drag Dean along. They were both waiting for this information. They both wanted to know the answers.
“Why?”
“Because you’re my client. And I think it’s in your best interest to hear the news first. Trust me.”
She ran a hand through her hair, something she never did. “OK.”
Patrick hung up and her insides pitched in protest. What does he know? Who is the mom?
Why did he think she could identify the mother?
There obviously had to be some connection to her and maybe even someone else that Monica or Dean could identify. If that were the case, then Patrick was right in her being alone when they spoke.
Katie took advantage of the fact that Dean was busy with an inspector who would monopolize most of his afternoon.
Thirty minutes after Patrick’s phone call, Katie wrote a quick note and posted it on Dean’s phone in his office.
Finished here early. I have a few products I want to see before I order. SYAH.
SYAH was their own acronym for “See you at home.” So far, no one at work knew they had moved in together. It wasn’t a secret that they were seeing each other, but they didn’t go around kissing or fondling at work.
Jo had made a few comments about the two of them being much more relaxed than previous weeks. Katie bunted right back with questions about how Steve Bowman was doing. Jo’s cheeks had grown red and she busied herself with her work and avoided any further comments.
Jo and Steve were obviously into each other, but Katie wasn’t clear if the two of them had even shared a meal outside of the shindig Dean had put on weeks ago. Not that it mattered to her. She and Jo were cordial, but Katie doubted they could be real friends.
Katie drove in silence to the hotel and called ahead to let them know she was coming.
The suite hadn’t changed…yet the marble floors felt cold, the colors of the room sterile. Without family pictures or a few misplaced items filtered about the room, it just wasn’t home.
Dean’s home with its rustic lines and masculine edge made her more comfortable than the finest silk. She wouldn’t mind a few extravagant extras…like a cook and a housekeeper. But those things could wait. Dean had actually talked about live-in help once they had everything with Savannah settled.
That day might be today.
She checked the time on the clock and tapped her foot. The receptionist at the front desk was supposed to call her when Patrick arrived.
As the minutes ticked past the hour he was supposed to get there, her pulse sped up and she started to pace the room.
The knock on her door made her jump.
Katie drew in a deep, calming breath and blew it out slowly before opening the door. She painted on a smile and hoped her nerves didn’t show.
Only the hall was empty.
A sense of déjá vu swam over her. Her gaze snapped to her feet.
There was a note on the floor that read, Look up!
When she did, she noticed a domed camera over her head. A noise drew her attention down the hall. Patrick stood several feet away with his hands tucked into his signature black jacket.
“What’s this?” she asked waving the paper.
“It’s evidence of a flaw in your hotel security.” He pushed away from the wall to join her. “Mind if I come in?”
“Of course not.”
Inside the suite, Patrick removed a seven-inch tablet from an inside pocket of his jacket.
Katie noted the gun he had strapped to his side. A gun she assumed he had, but hadn’t seen until now. She couldn’t help but think he showed it to her now to emphasize his point.
Patrick set the tablet down and picked up the phone on a hall table. He handed her the cordless handset and said, “Call the desk and ask if I’ve arrived.”
Katie’s eyes drew together. “Why?”
“Just do it.”
Katie waited for the receptionist to answer. When she did, her cheerful voice said, “What can we do for you, Miss Morrison.”
“Yes, eh…” She glanced over at Patrick and stuttered, “D-did Mr. Sanderson arrive yet?”
“No. I’m sorry, Miss Morrison. We’ve not had anyone call on you yet. We’ll be sure to let you know when he’s on his way up.”
Katie frowned. “OK. Thank you.” She hung up the phone. “I don’t understand.”
Patrick sat in one of the chairs and encouraged her to sit as well. “They don’t know I’m here. I’ve already checked into the hotel under an alias.”
“So you came up without them knowing.”
“Obviously. Which is exactly what Savannah’s mother did.”
Katie sat and leaned forward. “I’m listening.”
Patrick rubbed his hands together with a smile. “The first day I visited your suite in Houston, I walked in like I owned the place. No one stopped or questioned me until I made it to your room. Through normal routes, your security was stellar. Nice to see they weren’t flunkies who couldn’t make it into the local police detail.”
“Good to know.”
Patrick turned on his digital device and played a video clip of him walking through the hotel in Houston. He entered and exited an elevator and let himself into Katie’s suite without incident. Within seconds, security was at the door. One man had a gun in his hand.
“The clip is spliced together to show how I walked into your room. But notice here…” He paused the clip, showing an empty hall. “And here.” He paused it again. “I’m not in range of the camera. The angle I came out of the elevator gave a
clear picture of me. Easily identifiable.”
“When I looked at the clips of the night Savannah was left, I didn’t see anyone come out of an elevator,” Katie told him.
“I know. I’ll get to that in a minute. Here is another day I went to your suite. This was when I ran into your brother. I went ahead and ran the tape of him coming up and into the room. It’s all seamless. Yeah, he pushes in and out of view, but for the most part he’s undeniably there.”
She mumbled an acknowledgment of his words.
“Now…keep watching.”
He fast-forwarded the clip. “I haven’t spliced any footage together,” he told her. Once he hit a twenty-minute marker, he slowed the clip down to normal speed.
The door to her suite opened and out walked Patrick and Jack…together.
“Were you in there the whole time?”
“No. I surprised your brother after he arrived.”
“But I didn’t see you go in.”
“Exactly.”
Katie sat back in her chair. “So how did you get in?”
“Apparently rich people love their privacy nearly as much as they do their security.”
Katie nodded. “I can agree with that.”
“The angle of the cameras aren’t directly on the door to the suite. You’ve lived in hotels most of your life. I’m sure you’ve snuck in late at night before.”
“Yeah, when I was a kid. We’d hug the wall and slip inside.” A friend of hers who was sleeping with a would-be rock star had told her about the hotel cameras. There were nights when she was a teenager that she snuck in, or had someone else sneak in. Katie had stopped hiding from the cameras years ago.
“I snuck into your suite by staying out of direct line with the cameras. The motion detectors inside the room would have triggered, notifying security that someone was in your room, but that didn’t happen because Jack was already inside.”
“I think there are motion detectors in the halls, too,” she told him.
“Yeah, but the only thing security will do once the motion detectors are tripped is look at the video feed. If they don’t see anything, or the inside of the room isn’t tripped, they’ll most likely ignore it. The night the mom left Savannah, you and Monica were home. Security would ignore the motion detectors entirely with the two of you walking in and out.
Not Quite Mine (Not Quite series) Page 20