by Susan Gable
The heartache increased.
How would she ever follow through on the agreement?
It didn't matter. She'd given her word, she'd signed a contract and she'd do what she had to do. Besides, she'd make a lousy mother, and Jake would be a wonderful father. He'd already proven himself with Dusty and Mel. He had backup support, a stable career that allowed him to set his own hours, and he could offer a secure home. She, on the other hand, could offer a child nothing.
Nothing.
Story of her life.
Jake clutched the steering wheel harder, her words ringing in his ears. "You're not abandoning the baby, Harley. You're relinquishing custody to me, the baby's father, someone who's very capable of caring for him."
"Same difference. Your mother relinquished custody of you to your stepfather. Tell me it didn't feel like abandonment."
"I can't, because it did." It hadn't been any better the second time she'd turned her back on them, either. He'd tracked her down—at Mel's request—so she could be invited to Mel and Peter's wedding. The reconciliation had fallen flat. She'd been furious with Jake for "dredging up old pain"—and because her current husband had no idea she had grown children.
"I rest my case."
"This is different, Harley."
"How so?"
Jake fumbled for words. How indeed? Because he wanted it to be different? Because the child would never know her—so couldn't miss her? His knuckles went white over the steering wheel. She wouldn't back out like the others had, would she? He couldn't really see her initiating a custody battle that would land them in court, not with her background. Not with the way she'd reacted to the judge the day they were married. He glanced over at her.
"Oh, Jake, chill out. I'm not about to renege on our arrangement."
She didn't sound as certain as he'd like. Damn it to hell, she'd gotten under his skin. Well, he wasn't allowing her to inflict pain on him—or on his child. His plan would proceed as designed. It was the only viable possibility. A splinter under the skin needed to be removed as soon as possible to prevent it from causing greater damage.
The next six and a half months were going to be very difficult.
He just had to keep reminding himself that she was off limits. He should not admire her courage or tenacity, not feel sympathetic toward her, and certainly not desire her.
* * *
Chapter 10
«^»
Desirable. Tempting. Sinful. Blissfully, utterly, completely sinful.
Eyes closed, Harley eased her lips around the fork and slipped the chocolate cake into her mouth. Rich icing clung to her teeth and the roof of her mouth. She swirled her tongue, savoring each trace before opening her eyes to target her next forkful.
Big mistake.
She snapped her eyes shut immediately, hoping the old "if I can't see you, you can't see me" trick would work.
"What are you doing?"
Nope, it didn't work. She opened her eyes again and offered Jake a tentative smile. "I thought you'd left for the gym?"
Have mercy, the man had no right to look like that in the morning. And how dared he flaunt his physique in front of a hormone-loaded, sex-starved pregnant woman? His walnut hair still tousled with sleep, wearing only a pair of rumpled gray sweatpants, he looked good enough to eat. Suddenly chocolate cake lost its appeal and sinful took on a whole new meaning.
"Don't try to change the subject. What are you doing?"
"Eating breakfast?"
He gestured at her plate. "You call that breakfast?"
"I'm drinking milk with it." She raised the glass, saluted him with it and gulped down a slug.
Jake continued to glare at her.
"It's got eggs in it. And wheat—"
"Spare me the Bill Cosby routine. You know very well that doesn't constitute a nutritious breakfast for a pregnant woman. You've got a baby to think about."
Baby. How she wished for once he'd think about her. "How do you know it's not the baby who ordered the chocolate cake for breakfast?"
Jake folded his arms and shook his head at her. "A good parent doesn't let a child make decisions like that, especially a child who's not even born yet."
"There you go. I never claimed I'd be a good parent. That's your job."
"A job I'm trying to do." Jake settled into the chair beside her at the dining room table. He reached over to hold her hand. "You've got to take your nutrition seriously. The baby is depending on you to provide what he needs."
"You need to take everything a little less seriously, Jake. I take my vitamins every day. I'm drinking enough milk to support my own dairy herd. I eat fruit and vegetables like never before, and I haven't had any caffeine since you dumped my coffee down the drain."
His lips twitched at the corners and his eyes twinkled at her before he composed his mask of seriousness once again.
"I mean it. I'm being very careful. I think some chocolate now and then isn't irresponsible. Lighten up. You're such a stick-in-the-mud."
"Stick-in-the-mud?" His brows drew together, and the corners of his mouth drooped. He released her hand. "Is that how you see me?"
"We-e-ll—" she dragged the word out "—sometimes." She gave him a once-over, letting her gaze linger on his well-defined pecs. "Not always. For example, your attire right now is definitely not stick-in-the-mud."
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
"Absolutely nothing. That's my point. You look natural like that. Approachable." Not to mention sexy, desirable and gorgeous.
"What else?"
Harley dipped the fork back into the cake and lifted a piece. "Enjoy the little things, Jake. Remember the night we watched the sunset on the beach?"
Remember? How could he forget? The kiss they'd shared that night would be burned into his memory to the end of time. "Yes."
"Okay, so trust me now. You eat chocolate cake for breakfast today, and I promise not to have any sweets for the rest of the week."
His lips twisted into a wry smile. "Harley, it's Wednesday already."
She shrugged. "Take it or leave it."
A stick-in-the-mud, huh? All right, it wouldn't kill him to lighten up just a little and eat the cake. Especially if it meant his baby would be getting only nutritious foods for the next four days. "Okay, deal."
He leaned forward, reaching for her plate, but she snatched it away from his questing hands. "No, I want to make sure you do this right. This is an experience, not something to be shoveled down. Now, close your eyes."
He scrutinized her warily.
"Stick-in-the-mud."
Jake closed his eyes and settled back. Her chair scraped against the wooden floor and suddenly she was sitting on his lap. "Harley—"
The tip of the fork touched his lips. "Shh. Smell the chocolate. Now, open up."
He did as she ordered, more aware of her warmth and the floral scent of her freshly washed hair than the chocolate cake. He closed his mouth and she slid the fork from between his lips.
"That's it. Slowly."
Her sexy voice vibrated in his ears, sending the familiar jolt of lust racing through him. He swallowed the sawdust cake in an effort to keep a groan from escaping his throat. The only texture and taste he wanted to experience belonged to her.
She shifted, her well-formed bottom brushing against him. His body hardened in response. "Mmm."
"See? It's good, isn't it?"
"Oh, it's more than good, Harley." It was bad. It was wrong. It was exactly what he'd promised himself he'd never do again.
Her fingertips outlined his lips. "Want more?"
Damn straight he wanted more. He nodded.
The fingers vanished, leaving behind an emptiness at their absence. But they reappeared quickly. This time as they traced his lips, they left behind light smears of icing.
"Open up."
He opened his mouth again, expecting the fork to return, but instead, her chocolate-coated finger slipped in. Instinctively he closed his lips around it, allowing his
tongue to skim the surface before he sucked gently.
She moaned, and wriggled on his lap.
He opened his own eyes to discover the emerald eyes he so admired smoldering with flickering desire. He slowly withdrew her finger from his mouth. Wrapping his left arm around her waist, he pulled her closer. "You got icing all over my mouth," he murmured.
"Yes, I did." She leaned over and rested her forehead against his. "Shall I fix that for you?"
His pulse thundered in his chest and between his thighs. "Absolutely."
Her warm breath carried the scent of chocolate and the promise of sweetness, a promise quickly fulfilled when she opened her mouth and met his lips with hers. "Harley—"
"Shh." She pressed her index finger against his lips. "Don't. Just experience."
She stood and pivoted quickly, then straddled him in the chair. He shifted his hips, pressing his erection into the V between her thighs. Sweats met denim. She threw her head back, a blatant invitation.
Her exposed neck proved too tempting. He inched forward to trail his tongue along the hollow of her throat. He felt her heart rate pick up noticeably, and a surge of masculine pride flooded him. "Harley, Harley," he groaned into the creamy skin over her collarbone. "What you do to me, woman."
The tip of her tongue traced the curve of his ear. "What? What do I do to you?"
"You make me forget myself, forget everything but how much I want you."
"That's good. Go with that impulse."
He slipped his hand under her sweater, cupping her breast in his palm. Beneath the cotton fabric of her bra, her nipple tightened in reaction to his caress.
She gasped and bucked against his hardness. He grabbed for sanity as his erection throbbed in response. "We should stop, Harley," he whispered. "Tell me now."
"No. Don't stop." She crossed her arms to grasp the bottom of her sweater, pulling it up and over her head. Another quick motion, and her bra joined her sweater on the floor beside the chair.
The last shred of self-control he possessed vanished with the sight of her swollen breasts. The nipples, enlarged and darker in color, cried out for his attention. Using his mouth, he eagerly obliged.
Harley clutched his shoulders and ground her lower body against his with near-frantic urgency. "I need you." She pressed closer against him. "Please, Jake, I need you." She whimpered when he thrust his hips upward to meet hers.
What normal male could resist that? Desire pounded through his veins, thundering in his head, making his entire body ache for her. He clasped his arms around her and rose from the chair, taking her with him.
Three quick strides brought him to his office. He sank to his knees on the rug before the fireplace, lowering her carefully onto her back.
He slid his fingers beneath the elastic waist of her jeans—and the reality of the situation hit him. She wore elastic-waist jeans. Her old tight jeans didn't fit anymore. She was nearly three months pregnant with his child. He pulled back. "Harley, we can't. The baby—"
"We can't hurt the baby, Jake. Please." She sat up on the rug and placed her palm against his chest. "The baby will be fine." She dipped her head and licked his nipple.
He gritted his teeth until he could speak coherently. "You're sure?"
"Absolutely."
Jake reached for her.
The phone rang.
"No! Just ignore it." Harley brought her arms around his neck and pulled him down onto the rug.
He willingly followed, cradling her neck in the crook of one elbow while his other hand explored her curves. The ringing phone faded into the background when she thrust one hand into his sweats and grasped his erection. He groaned.
The answering machine clicked on, and his own voice filled the room with the recorded message.
Beep.
"Mr. Manning, this is Theodore Spandler."
Jake lurched upright on the rug, struggling to extricate Harley's hand from his pants.
"I wanted to discuss the possibility of your designing several more hotels for us."
Jake jumped to his feet and grabbed the phone. Several pencils rolled from the desk onto the floor. "Hello?" He stabbed the button on the answering machine. "Mr. Spandler? I'm here."
Harley inhaled deeply, held her breath a moment, then exhaled. A shiver raced across her body. She continued to slow her breathing, having gone from fourth gear to Park without the benefit of downshifting. Not that she could blame him. Theodore Spandler owned the Spandler hotel chain, and if he wanted Jake to design more hotels, that was a very big deal.
Still, she couldn't resist silently cursing the man's timing.
She turned her head to watch Jake settle into his desk chair. His eyes sparkled with excitement. Had she caused it—or had Mr. Spandler? If she were a betting woman, she'd have to lay odds on Spandler, though Jake had seemed very interested in her just moments ago.
She rolled onto her side, then pushed herself to her feet. Being half naked in his office didn't seem appropriate anymore. She headed back to the dining room to retrieve her clothes—and drown her frustrated libido in chocolate cake and milk.
* * *
Harley slid the last bite of cake into her mouth as Jake dropped back into the chair at her side. His eyes no longer held the same sparkle. Did he regret their interrupted lovemaking as much as she did? I'm not going to mention it unless he does. "What's wrong? For an architect who just got a phone call from a major mogul, you look downright glum."
His hand curled into a loose fist and he hammered on the table. "Oh, it's a fantastic offer. It means major money, not to mention the possible doors it can open for me."
"So, what's the problem?"
"They want me in Virginia Beach at their corporate headquarters."
"So?"
"For the next few months."
"Oh." Harley licked the last remnant of chocolate from the back of her fork, then placed it on her plate.
"Oh is right. I can't stay away for a few months."
"Why not?"
"Why not?" He waved a hand around the room. "I've got obligations here. The dogs, my family and there's you."
Me? For a blissful moment, Harley luxuriated in the idea that Jake Manning didn't want to leave town because of her. What an incredible feeling to be included in that list, even if she did rate behind his family and the dogs. "Me?"
"Of course, you. You're pregnant with my baby. What kind of guy goes off and leaves a pregnant woman alone?"
Ah, yes, good old reality. The fact that she was the incubator for his child qualified her for the list—nothing more. "Plenty of them, if statistics are to be believed." Harley leaned back in her chair. "Listen, I'm a big girl. I've been taking care of myself for years." Or I did, until you started doing it for me. "I'll be fine. No need to worry about the animals, either. I'm sure I can manage them, too."
Doubt appeared in his eyes. "You're going to look after the dogs?"
"You don't think I can? Hey, I even get along with the big beast now. No problems. We'll be fine. You can't pass up this opportunity." She wouldn't let him. This was one way she could repay him for all the kindness he'd shown her—a way that didn't involve the child growing in her belly, a way that would be her personal gift to him.
"You can't clean the cat box. Maybe Melanie and Peter will keep Irving." Jake began to consider the idea. "And the business—well, the Witherbys are all taken care of, and I've only got a few other projects pending. I think I know a hungry young architect who might like a house design or two."
He turned his attention back to Harley. Determination burned bright in her eyes. If she could hold down the fort at home, it would also give him the chance to secure a reasonable financial reserve before the baby came. After the birth, he'd have a healthy cushion to rest on while he got used to being a parent.
Harley would be gone then.
That thought caused a tightening in his throat. He'd come to admire her tenacity, her spirit and her attitude about life. He loved the smell of her, loved just hav
ing her around. And her sensuous body certainly added to the attraction.
The green eyes no longer held flickering flames of desire, and for that, he felt regret. But he'd promised himself that he'd keep his hands off her once she was pregnant—and he'd been doing a damned poor job of it. The chemistry between them was simply too intense to ignore.
Maybe going away for a few months wasn't such a bad idea. He needed to develop some resistance toward this woman, needed to get himself back on an even footing. By the time he returned home, his baby inside her would be so obvious, it would diminish the physical chemistry between them, and he'd be able to keep his distance again—both physically and emotionally.
Yes, maybe this was exactly what they needed.
So, why didn't he feel better about leaving her?
"Jake?"
"Hmm? If you're sure you can manage everything, I'll give Mr. Spandler a call this afternoon and discuss terms with him."
"I'm sure."
He wished he could say the same.
"When do you think you'll be back?"
He did some quick calculations. "I'll be home for Christmas…"
* * *
Chapter 11
«^»
Jake sang along with the carol playing on the radio, a grin pulling on the corners of his mouth. Damn straight he'd be home for Christmas, and it wasn't going to be a dream, either.
Flurries drifted from the gray Erie sky. The traffic light turned green, and the tires from the car in front of him kicked up slush. He hoped Dusty had fulfilled his promise to keep the driveway and sidewalks clear for Harley. Jake certainly didn't want her shoveling snow or, God forbid, falling on the slippery ground.
Spandler loved the hotel design, and Jake had a hefty paycheck to carry him through the baby's birth. He'd managed to limit himself to a few weekend trips home. The twins' third birthday party wasn't something he could miss, and Mel had pitched a fit when he'd tried to avoid coming home for Thanksgiving. But the plan was supposed to be to stay away from Harley, not see her every time he turned around.