"But … you … I … the cake…"
He balled his hands into fists at his sides to keep from reaching out to her. "I'll ice the blasted cake. Go to bed, Haven. Now." He paused. "Unless, that is, you want what's going on here to continue to its logical conclusion."
She stared at him for a long, tortured moment. "I think I'll go to bed," she finally said, as he'd known she would. Careful to give him a wide berth, she walked around him and out of the room.
Body aching, Brady watched her until she disappeared from view. A minute later he heard the soft whooshing sound of her bedroom door as it closed. Heaving a regretful sigh, he bent to pick up the knife from the floor. After washing it off in the sink, he set to work on the cake.
Five minutes later, he stood back to survey his work. The cake was a little lopsided, and the icing was obviously thicker in some spots than others. It certainly wasn't anything to brag about, but what the heck, it was iced. And he'd kept himself out of trouble. For now, anyway.
After cleaning up the kitchen, Brady went upstairs and took a long, cold shower.
* * *
The bed bounced. Brady grumbled a protest and pulled the covers up over his head.
The bed bounced again.
Lowering the sheet and cracking one eyelid, he saw Anna perched at his side, a kitten in each arm. He had just enough time to wonder where the third kitten was, when he felt the tiny flick of a sandpaper tongue against his cheek.
"Are you awake?" Anna asked.
"Depends," he croaked. "What time is it?"
She shrugged. "Don't know."
Brady struggled up onto his elbows and groaned when he saw the clock. Six-thirty. It was only six-thirty.
"Do you always get up this early?"
"I gets up when I wakes up," Anna said with a child's simple logic. The kittens in her arms moved restlessly, and she placed them down on the bed.
He stilled a sigh. "What about Binny? Does she get up when you wake up, too?"
"Binny's sleeping. I twied to wake her. She won't move." Small wonder, Brady thought, considering the two of them had gotten to bed less than three hours earlier. With one last, regretful glance at his pillow, he rubbed his hand over his eyes and determined to wake up. Haven needed the sleep, and this would give him time to spend with his daughter. Time for the two of them to get to know each other better.
Brady stared at the little girl sitting on the side of his bed and felt his heart twist. For the first time, he realized how hard it was going to be to leave once his marriage to Haven was over. Not that he was actually leaving Anna. He and Haven would set up a regular schedule of visitation. Still, it wouldn't be the same as living under the same roof. He wouldn't wake up in the morning to find her bouncing on the side of his bed.
"I'm hungwy, Unca Bwady," Anna said. "Will you make me bweakfast?"
He scooped the kittens off the bed and stood. "Sure, squirt. What do you want? Cereal? Toast?"
"Pancakes," she said promptly. She rubbed her belly. "I wuv pancakes."
His culinary skills were a little rusty from disuse, but Brady thought he could manage a batch of pancakes. He reached for the pajama top he'd slung over the footboard the night before. "Pancakes it is. Lead the way."
Anna stood her ground. "You haf to make your bed first."
Brady glanced at the sheets. In his restlessness the night before, he'd pulled them completely from their moorings beneath the mattress. The bed would have to be totally remade from scratch.
"I do?"
The little girl nodded solemnly.
"Right now?"
She nodded again. "It's a wule. When you wakes up in the morning, you has to make your bed."
He sighed in resignation. "Can't go breaking the rules now, can we?"
Anna leaned over and patted his arm reassuringly. "I'll help."
A sudden thought occurred to him while he tucked in the sheets at the foot of the bed. "You don't need help going to the bathroom, do you?"
Anna pointed with pride to her chest. "I go all by myself. I'm a big girl."
Brady felt a surge of relief. While he was feeling more at ease with his daughter, he wasn't sure he was up to that particular part of parenting just yet.
The first thing he saw when he entered the kitchen with Anna was the cake he'd iced just hours before. At the sight, memories crowded his brain. Memories of the way Haven had looked in her skimpy T-shirt, of the way her mouth had tasted and how it had felt having her body pressed up against his. With ruthless determination, he shoved the images to the back of his mind. He was making breakfast for his daughter, this was not the time for inappropriate thoughts.
"Can I help?" Anna asked.
"Sure, squirt," he said, grateful for the distraction.
Together, they measured out the flour, baking powder and sugar, getting as much on the table as they did in the bowl. He let Anna break the eggs, and they laughingly picked out the pieces of shell that landed in the batter. While Anna stirred the mixture, Brady fired up the griddle he found in a bottom cabinet. Five minutes later, they were seated at a table, munching contentedly.
"These are the bestest pancakes I ever had," Anna said around a mouthful, syrup dripping down her chin.
"That's because I had such a terrific helper," he replied, feeling unaccountably touched at how little it took to please her.
After he cleaned up the kitchen, he spent the next two hours playing Candyland, reading whatever book his daughter chose from the living-room bookcase, and laughing with Anna as they watched the antics of the three kittens. To his surprise, instead of feeling restless or bored, he genuinely enjoyed every minute.
At nine-thirty, he decided it was time to wake Haven.
"How about helping me make Binny some breakfast and taking it to her in bed?" he asked Anna.
"She likes pancakes, same as me."
While Brady tended to the cooking, Anna prepared the tray. He'd just slid the pancakes on a plate and covered it with a napkin to keep them warm, when he felt a tug on his pajamas.
"Yes?"
Anna lifted a finger and motioned for him to lean down. When he did, she kissed him on the cheek.
"I wike you, Unca Bwady. I'm gwad you mawwied us."
His heart swelled with pleasure. "Thank you, Anna. I'm glad I married you, too. Now, are you ready to take this upstairs?"
Anna nodded toward the tray and asked, "Can I cawwy it?"
"As long as you're careful."
When they entered Haven's bedroom, all he could see was a lump in the middle of the bed. A lump that was totally covered by bedclothes. A lump that snored.
"Rise and shine, sleepyhead," he called in a loud voice. The snoring stopped. With a grunt, Haven burrowed deeper beneath her covers. "Go 'way."
Grinning, Brady walked to the window and ruthlessly drew back the curtains so that a stream of light hit the middle of the bed.
"Someone has a sadistic streak in him," Haven muttered. "And someone else isn't a morning person," he retorted.
"We've been up for hours and hours," Anna said.
Blinking, Haven pulled the sheet from over her head and pushed the hair out of her eyes. "You have? What time is it?"
"Nine-thirty," Brady supplied.
Haven's dismayed gaze flew to his. "Nine-thirty? Tell me she didn't get up at six-thirty."
He shook his head. "Afraid I can't do that."
"I twied to wakes you up, Binny," Anna said, "but I couldn't. So I wakes Unca Bwady, instead."
The look Haven flashed him was full of gratitude and made him want to kiss her again. "Thanks for letting me sleep in."
"We made you breakfast," he said, nodding at the tray in Anna's arms and trying to forget how lusciously tousled Haven looked lying in her bed.
"You did?"
"It was Unca Bwady's idea," Anna said.
Her gaze searched his face. "It was?"
"I thought you might like breakfast in bed," he muttered with a shrug, feeling self-conscious.
> Anna placed the tray across Haven's legs. "Sit up, Binny," she ordered. After placing Haven's robe around her shoulders, the little girl fluffed up the pillows so Haven could lean comfortably against the headboard.
"You can eat now," the little girl announced.
Brady wanted to leave Haven to eat her breakfast in peace. But before he could move, Anna reached out and slipped her hand into his. It was plain she was going to stay and make sure Haven ate every bite. Since he didn't want to let go of the hand that had so trustingly taken hold of his, he had no choice but to remain.
The scene was intimate, he and Anna standing over Haven like guardian angels. So this was what it felt like to be a family, he thought. It had been so long since he'd experienced the feeling, he'd forgotten. For just one minute, he felt a longing so strong it made his knees week. With determination, he pushed it to the far recesses of his mind. While he could build a family with Anna, doing the same with her guardian was out of the question. Giving himself one hundred percent to a woman was one risk he'd never been willing to take, even when his life had been full of risk.
"That was wonderful," Haven said when she laid her knife and fork down for the last time. "You two can make breakfast for me anytime."
"Tomowwow?" Anna asked eagerly.
Laughing, Haven reached out and rumpled the little girl's hair. "Tomorrow's a school day, so there won't be any time. Speaking of time, you need to get dressed for church, young lady."
"Aw, Binny, do we haf to go?"
"Yes," Haven said firmly, "we do."
Anna turned to him. "Are you coming, too, Unca Bwady?"
He hadn't been in a church since he'd turned to it for help as a child, and his prayers had gone unanswered. But when he looked into his daughter's eyes and saw the appeal there, he didn't have the heart to refuse.
* * *
Haven rose with the rest of the congregation to sing the closing hymn. Instead of concentrating on the words of the song, all she could think about was the kiss she and Brady had shared in the kitchen earlier that morning. And the fact that, had he not pulled back, she would have made love with him. It horrified her that she could stand in such a holy place and still think such thoughts.
What horrified her even more was the helplessness she felt against the desire Brady aroused in her. All he had to do was look at her with those steel gray eyes of his and she lost all power to think rationally, all power to resist. Why?
The answer left her senses reeling. Her feelings for him were beginning to go beyond the physical. She was beginning to care for him. Far more than was either sensible or safe.
Dismayed, she glanced to her right, where Brady stood holding a hymnal at Anna's eye level, even though the little girl couldn't read. His deep bass voice rumbled on the air.
As if sensing her regard, he turned his head. The look in his eyes made her cheeks burn, and she quickly pulled her gaze away. How could she have been so foolish? How could she have let down her guard and opened up her heart to him?
"Good morning, Anna. Good morning, Haven," the priest said as they exited the church a few minutes later.
"Good morning, Father," Haven said.
"Brady Ross," Brady said, extending his hand. "I'm Haven's husband. We were married yesterday."
Inwardly, Haven groaned. Drat the mm! Couldn't he have stopped after his name? Why had he felt compelled to add the husband part?
She felt the priest's curious gaze on her. He knew she hadn't been married in this church yesterday. She knew he was wondering exactly where the marriage had taken place.
"We were married by a justice of the peace," she confessed, deciding to get it over with as quickly as possible.
"I see. Congratulations, you two." The priest leaned in so that his words could be heard only by Haven and Brady. "You might want to think about having another ceremony here, just to do things up right, hmm?"
That was a subject she just couldn't allow herself to think about. Doing things up right would mean their marriage had passed beyond the convenience stage and into the committed stage. Much as that thought was starting to appeal, she knew it wasn't going to happen. Because Brady Ross was a man who was definitely not into commitments. She'd be a fool to delude herself otherwise.
* * *
Chapter 8
« ^ »
The grandfather clock chimed the hour. Eight p.m. Haven kicked off her shoes and collapsed onto the green leather love seat in the den. With any luck, Anna would be asleep momentarily. And she could finally relax and unwind. Or come as close to that desired state as possible with Brady in residence.
Heaving a grateful sigh, she closed her eyes and decided to think positively. She'd survived her first full day as a married woman. That was cause for celebration.
Now all she had to do was make it through the night.
She felt his presence before he uttered a word. She hadn't heard him approach, but when her eyes suddenly flew open and her gaze traveled to the doorway, there he stood. He looked big and handsome, and more weary than a new mother who'd spent the night pacing the floor with a colicky baby.
Unbidden, longing stirred and swelled within her. She ached to reach out to him, to gather his head to her breast, to smooth the grooves of exhaustion from his forehead. What truly amazed her was that she could feel this way and act as if she felt nothing at all.
"Tired?" he asked.
"I feel like I could sleep for a week."
She closed her eyes again. It hurt too much to look at him, in light of her growing feelings. No matter what, she could never allow herself to forget that, one day, all too soon, he would be gone. Her only contact with him would be when he came to visit Anna. It would be beyond foolish to nurture her longing for him, to hope it would grow into something else. Something lasting.
For her self-preservation, she couldn't allow herself to hide from the truth. Brady was a man who didn't want to care for anyone. A man who, whenever those feelings threatened to arise, fought them with the fierceness of a samurai warrior.
But he did care, deeply, about Pete and Eileen. She'd seen that yesterday at their wedding. He'd cared enough about Anna to enter into a bogus marriage. He'd taken three abandoned kittens and given them a home. And she'd heard the love in his voice when he spoke of his adoptive father. Was there hope that he could care for her, too?
Maybe, she conceded, if a miracle occurred. Unfortunately, she'd ceased believing in miracles long ago.
"I'm exhausted, too," he said. She heard the leather of the matching sofa give as he stretched out on it. "It's been quite a day. Two days, really."
"You can say that again." She was surprised she was still awake. She must be running on fumes.
"Anna asleep?" she asked.
"Finally. Although if I never read about Evangeline and that blasted stranger again, it'll be too soon for me."
Haven chuckled. "How many times did she make you read it?"
"Three."
"Only three? You got off easy. Usually it takes four or more for her to nod off."
"I must have the magic touch."
He certainly did, so far as Haven was concerned. "Where are the kittens?"
"Sleeping with Anna. By the way, she's named them. Care to take a guess?"
Eyes still closed, Haven snuggled deeper into the love seat. "I'm too tired to try to figure out the workings of a precocious toddler's mind. You'll just have to clue me in."
"How do Praise Be, Glory Be and Hallelujah strike you?"
Surprised laughter bubbled out of her. "What?"
"She heard the words in church this morning and thought they would make lovely names. I didn't have the heart to disagree with her."
"They sound like good names to me," Haven said. His answering chuckle warmed her to her toes. "Me, too." For several minutes, the only sounds in the room were the distant hum of the dishwasher and the ticking of the grandfather clock. Haven thought he must have fallen asleep, but when she opened her eyes she saw Brady studying her, hi
s gaze frankly curious.
"How do you do it?" he asked. "How do you manage to run the center and take care of that little girl all by yourself?"
She took advantage of his open perusal to do a little surveying of her own. When an unruly lock of hair fell over one eye, obstructing her view, she impatiently brushed it away.
"I don't do it all by myself." She spoke absently, absorbed by the way the fabric of his jeans clung to his thighs. "I'm really lucky to have a lot of wonderful people in my life, people who support me and offer help when I need it."
"That's not luck, Haven," he said softly. "You give of yourself, and people respond to that. You're like a magnet. People are automatically drawn to you."
Her gaze flew upward. Are you? she wanted to say, her heart pounding.
She searched his face for any evidence that it might be so, and was struck by the sincerity in his eyes. His voice had held a wistfulness that made her wonder if he wasn't a lot lonelier than he let on, and her heart went out to him. Aside from the Lorings, whom she liked very much, she hadn't seen any evidence that there was anyone else in Brady's life. Of course, there had to be. No one lived in a vacuum. Still, there were times when he seemed so utterly alone.
It was the pain, she thought. The pain of abandonment that he'd felt over and over again throughout his childhood. He was still so full of that pain it kept him from being close to anyone else. If only he would let her, she would gladly do what she could to take it away.
But he wouldn't let her. He had made that abundantly clear.
"What about your parents?" he asked.
The question caught her off guard. "What about them?"
"I was just wondering. You haven't said much about them. Do they live far from here?"
"They live near the airport," she said carefully.
"It must be nice having them so close. I assume they're part of your support system?"
"No, Brady," she said softly, "they're not."
In answer to the quizzical light that formed in his eyes, she gave the standard excuse she always gave whenever someone asked about their absence. "They're research scientists. They're devoted to their work and practically live at the lab. They don't have time for much else."
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