“Hi.” The greeting was hearty, and he sounded almost relieved. “I didn’t think you were coming.” Nodding at Shayne, Ike paused to kiss Sydney’s cheek.
“I’m surprised you even noticed we were missing.” Marta hadn’t meant to say that out loud. She knew how it had to sound. As if she was jealous. Nothing could be farther from the truth.
The quip only amused him. “I notice everything.” Ike winked at her.
“So you said.” Marta took a discreet deep breath, trying to still the flutter that insisted on rising up every time she was on the receiving end of his wink.
Shayne saw his chance and took it. Commandeering Ike, he nodded toward the baby. “Why don’t one of you ladies take Celine while I see about putting that hand back into commission?”
Since she was closer, Marta took charge of Celine. “Being one-handed doesn’t seem to be hindering him any,” she murmured, not quite under her breath. The sound of Ike’s amused laugh did nothing to restore her humor. But holding Celine did. “Hello, precious. I see he finally got the hang of dressing you right.”
“Actually, that was Luc’s doing.” Ike’s honesty surprised her. She would have expected him to take advantage of even a minor compliment. He held up his bandaged hand. “I still need practice.” Celine cooed. “That’s her way of saying she missed you.” Ike raised his eyes to Marta’s. “So did I.”
Ike was getting used to seeing her come by every day to help with Celine. It had just been a matter of a few days, and now that he thought about it, it amazed him how quickly he’d become comfortable with the routine.
And how much he liked having her around.
Marta purposely glanced back at the cluster of women he’d left behind when he’d approached them. Several were still looking his way.
“I sincerely doubt that.”
Shayne placed himself between Marta and Ike. They could settle this later. “Let’s get that looked at. I want to get this taken care of so you don’t continue playing the invalid.”
Ike led the way to the house. The back door was standing wide open. Several new appliances had been brought inside, replacing nonfunctioning ones—donations from some of the neighbors.
“And who’s the one who insisted on playing doctor and bandaging me up this way when I said it was nothing?”
Shayne made no reply as he followed Ike into the old kitchen. For the moment, it was empty. As Ike sat down and drew his chair up to the table, Shayne placed his bag down and opened it.
He paused a second to look around. If he concentrated, he could almost hear Ike’s father, his thick French accent making everything he said sound melodic. Even when he cursed. “Boy, being here brings back memories.”
“It sure does, doesn’t it?” Ike leaned back, wishing he could go back, even for the space of a day. But there were no return trips allowed. Good or bad, life just kept moving forward. He caught his friend’s eye. “Remember when the weight of the world wasn’t on our shoulders and the word responsibility was just something in a dictionary?”
“Quite frankly? No.” To Shayne it felt as if he’d always been in charge, always been the responsible one. That went doubly for Ike.
Taking out a pair of surgical scissors, Shayne began to cut away at the tape and gauze surrounding Ike’s hand. “So, what do you think of her?”
Ike had been wondering when Shayne would get around to asking. “I like her.”
Shayne carefully drew back the stained bandage and inspected the wound. “You never met a woman you didn’t like.”
“True.” Ike thought a moment. From his vantage point, he thought he caught a glimpse of Marta walking up to the house. It was almost as cold inside as it was out. “She’s a honey.”
The wound was healing well. Shayne spared Ike a glance before applying a salve. “I’ve heard you use that term before.”
The salve stung. Ike steeled himself. “Maybe not with so much feeling, though.” He grinned as Shayne looked at him.
Shayne began rebandaging Ike’s hand. This time around, he was only covering Ike’s palm. His fingers would heal faster out in the open.
“You realize, of course, if you hurt her, I’ll be forced to kill you. Nothing personal, you understand.” Snipping off the bandage, he put the scissors down and reached for tape. “It’s just that Sydney’ll make me—unless, of course, she does it herself. You know the pregnancy hasn’t stopped her from doing everything else. I’m probably going to have to sit on her until she delivers to keep her from flying. But nothing will stop Sydney if you toy with Marta’s heart.”
“You don’t have to worry, I’m not toying. I’m just being a willing pupil.”
Shayne thought it best to leave that alone. There wasn’t a woman born who could teach Ike anything. If he thought that Marta could, then maybe there was something substantial brewing. He wasn’t about to jeopardize it by asking any more questions.
Cutting off the end of the tape, he tucked it around Ike’s palm. “There, how does that feel?”
“Better.” Ike wiggled his fingers. Fiery red ants danced along his palm and fingers, zigzagging as they went. “Still stiff, though, and they kind of sting some.”
“That’s going to take time. You’re just lucky those weren’t second-or third-degree you sustained.”
“I guess next time I’ll just let your house burn down.”
Clearing away the old bandages, Shayne deposited them along with his instruments into a side compartment in his medical bag, then snapped the bag shut. He regarded Ike quietly. “So, you’re really serious about this, taking care of Celine?”
Ike’s eyes met his. “You know me better than to have to ask.”
“I suppose I do.” Shayne just saw it as a big undertaking for a single man. He remembered how he’d felt when he brought Sara and Mac back to live with him after his ex-wife had died. Completely overwhelmed. And they at least knew how to dress themselves. “But have you really thought this through? What are you going to do with Celine while you’re working?”
“Nothing to think through. I’ll bring her with me.” Ike stood up. “When she gets older, I’ll hire a housekeeper to watch her when I can’t be around.” His words struck him, and he laughed. “Can you picture me with a housekeeper?” He’d always thought of himself as too freewheeling for something so restrictive and upper-middle class as a housekeeper. “Who’d ever have thought it?”
Shayne shook his head. They’d both come a long way from the boys who’d sat at this table, waiting for Ike’s mother to serve them up an extra slice of her famous apple pie. “Well, your housekeeper certainly won’t lack for work. I’ll guarantee that much. I’ve seen the way you keep house.”
“Not anymore. You should see it now. Marta decided it needed a makeover. Every time she comes over, she sighs dramatically and makes me pick up after myself.” He laughed, remembering the amazed look on Luc’s face when he walked in after her first visit. “Jean Luc is still wandering around in a daze.”
Shayne knew he was exaggerating, but not by much. “That might be your perfect solution,” he kidded. “Marry someone to watch Celine, keep your house in running order and your boots under one bed.”
He grinned, playing along. “Three birds with one stone—worth thinking about.”
But marriage wasn’t for him. He didn’t see himself sharing his life with one woman. It wasn’t that he felt he had to sample everything there was to life, or be with every woman who crossed his path. He’d just never felt that special feeling he knew was necessary to make a union permanent. He loved all women, but he’d never been in love with any of them. He figured he never would be.
When he saw a strange look cross Shayne’s face, Ike stopped talking and turned around. Marta was standing in the doorway. Celine was still in her arms.
It was part of Ike’s charm to recover without missing a beat. “What can I do for you, darlin’?”
Marta shifted her hand from beneath the baby’s bottom. The dampness was beginning to seep t
hrough the blanket. “You can tell me where the diapers are. Celine needs changing.”
“Diapers…” His voice trailed off. Damn, he knew he’d forgotten something.
“They’re at the Salty, aren’t they?” It wasn’t really a question, she could read his expression. Marta was beginning to read him rather well. Ike’s nod was almost superfluous. “Well, unless you want to diaper this precious bottom in a pillowcase, provided you have one here, I suggest you go back and get a few.” If he forgot the diapers, he probably forgot other things, too. “While you’re at it—” With a sigh, she shook her head. “Never mind, just take me with you.”
He covered one of her hands with his bandaged one. “My pleasure, darlin’, but this is so sudden—”
She shrugged him off. “Save your charm for someone who’ll buy into it, LeBlanc.” She looked at Celine. “I’ll change her at the Salty and then get some things together.” There was a knowing look in her eyes. “You probably didn’t bring any of her formula with you, did you?”
He couldn’t help the smug smile. “As a matter of fact, I did.”
She lifted a careless shoulder, then let it fall again. “I guess even a monkey gets things right once in a while.”
He inclined his head close to hers, as if to whisper in her ear. “Is it my imagination, or are you just a little testier than your usual self?”
She didn’t like the fact that the feel of his breath along her skin made parts of her body contract and tighten. Liked even less the thought that he somehow knew the effect he was having on her. “It’s your imagination. I’m just as testy now as I ever was.”
He laughed. “You’d be the one to know, darlin’. All right.” He turned to Shayne. “I’ll leave you in charge of things. Tell everyone I appreciate all their help and that they can collect a drink on me at the Salty anytime they want to. This shouldn’t take too long.”
Ike glanced at Marta as he made the last promise. Maybe, if he was lucky, it would take a little longer than that. Her resistance surely did intrigue him. And he freely confessed that there was something almost mouthwatering about the woman. He could feel himself getting stirred just by looking at her.
Desire, always something he could summon or dismiss at will, had begun to nibble insistently away at him. He supposed it had something to do with the fact that she was so keen on putting him into the place she felt he belonged. That she was so set on resisting him.
Somehow, he was going to have to find a way to get her to put down that rapier she was wielding so well, long enough to get a little closer to her.
He figured that getting a little closer was about all he needed.
Following him up the stairs to the rooms above the nearly deserted saloon, Marta halted abruptly at the doorway. “Doesn’t take you long, does it?”
He was halfway across the floor to where he’d put the package of diapers. “What do you mean?”
She stooped to pick up the shirt she’d seen him wearing yesterday. “I just straightened all this up yesterday.” She draped the shirt over the back of the chair. The room wasn’t as bad as it had been when she’d walked in several days ago—she doubted if that was possible—but it was definitely going in that direction. The line about changing a leopard’s spots drifted through her mind.
Taking a diaper from the pack, Ike stifled a yawn. “It was a long night.”
Marta lay Celine down on the sofa and began stripping off the old diaper. Ike handed her the new one. As she took it from him, she looked more closely at his face. He did look tired. Sympathy tugged at her.
“Did you get any sleep at all?”
Ike had gone without sleep before. But never for quite such altruistic reasons. These last few days had taken a great deal out of him, despite Marta’s help. He shrugged away her query. “A little here, a little there. Might have been as much as ten minutes, total.”
She believed him. She’d been in several foster homes with babies under a year old. Colicky babies, whose nights were endless and exhausting, filled with crying.
She applied the diaper quickly, then set Celine down on the floor in her infant seat. “Why don’t I take Celine for a little while, and let you get a couple of hours’ sleep?”
He thought of the people who had turned out to help fix up the old house. Good people who were generous with their time just because he needed them.
“While everyone else is at the house, working?” He shook his head. “That wouldn’t go over too well. Besides, I couldn’t do that.”
She was surprised that he even thought of that.
Very carefully, she placed Celine into her infant seat. Setting the seat on the floor, she rose to her feet and walked out of the small room. He followed her.
“I’m sure everyone would forgive you.”
Taking her hand, he turned her around. “If I’m not back within a reasonable amount of time, they’ll probably think I’m making love with you.”
His eyes were soft, seductive and already making love to her. She shook off the thought as being ridiculous. Eyes didn’t make love.
But his…
She cleared her throat. “Why, because every woman finds you irresistible?”
“No,” he said quietly, his hand slowly moving up the length of her arm, “because I find you irresistible.”
“You do.” She tried to sound sarcastic, skeptical, but it was all she could manage just to force the words out of her mouth.
She had beautiful eyes, Ike thought. Beautiful features. Yearning poured, warm and silky, through his veins. “I do.”
Marta tried to rally, but the stadium was woefully underpopulated. “Bull.”
“Fact,” he whispered in the same tone she used. “Just because you’d rather shoot me than look at me doesn’t mean that I can’t find you completely fascinating.” With his good hand, Ike feathered his fingers through her hair, amazed at how soft it felt to his touch. “Completely breathtaking.”
Marta tried not to swallow like some silly adolescent, but her throat suddenly felt so terribly dry. “For someone whose breath has been taken, you certainly seem to have enough to spare.”
His smile was so compelling, she found it hard not to become lost in it.
“See, that’s what I find so fascinating about you. You’re not only beautiful, you’ve got a sharp mind to go along with that sharp tongue of yours.” And Ike longed to feel that tongue entwined with his own. Longed to know her body, urgently pressed against his. Longed to hold her after it was over, comforting himself with the sound of her breathing. “And you’re kind to boot.”
“Kind?” Was he going to say something about her taking pity on his tortured soul and relieving his fevered anguish, or nauseating words to that effect? Marta tried to summon indignation, knowing it was her best defense against an assault that was taking surprising hold on her.
“Tending to a child for a man you loathe is kind in my book, darlin’.”
She wished he wouldn’t brush the back of his hand along her face that way. Wished that it didn’t make her feel as if her knees were made out of ice cubes that had been left out too long. “I don’t loathe you, I—”
“You what, darlin’?” he coaxed softly, his face somehow closer to hers than she remembered. “You what?”
Was that panic drumming through her? She wasn’t supposed to feel panic. She was supposed to feel smug, superior. And immune. Definitely immune. What was going wrong?
She thought of Celine, and grasped at the lifeline before she went over the falls in a barrel made of paper. “I’ve got to go see about feeding her.”
“I fed her before I brought her to the house,” he told her. Was it possible? Was Buffy, the Vampire Slayer turning into a soft, seductive Juliet? “And you just changed her. So unless one of us is itching to give her spelling lessons, I’d say that for the moment, we’ve done all we can for her—and can leave her in her infant seat.”
Her tongue darted out, moistening lips that refused to stay moist. “And do what?”<
br />
“Whatever comes to mind.”
“And I suppose you already have some ideas.” Was that her? Giving him straight lines? Lines that would lead to her downfall if she wasn’t careful?
“A few.” Oh, more than a few, Ike added silently, the intensity of his own desire surprising him.
Very lightly, he ran the tip of his finger along the outline of her lips and watched excitement flower in her eyes.
And roar in his veins.
Taking her into his arms, he lowered his head and kissed her.
And all the defenses Marta had so painstakingly erected within her began to shake and rattle like a house built on a gaping fault during an earthquake.
Chapter Eleven
Ike knew himself too well to think that what he was feeling was just something ordinary, that what was happening could be thought of as simply business as usual.
There was nothing usual about this.
The moment his kiss deepened, the moment he tasted her and his own erupting desire, Ike knew this was something he hadn’t encountered before. That what she aroused within him was desire with a capital D, passion set up in glowing neon lights that could rival any dynamic sunset Alaska had to offer. There was something about this initial contact, with its hint of things not promised but nonetheless existent, that efficiently and completely set him on fire.
It was all he could do to keep from sinking to his knees in stunned wonder.
He’d never felt like this before. While the number of women he’d been with hadn’t actually been legion, there’d been enough for him to know that this was different. That this woman was different.
And that he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone or anything else in his life.
Marta dug her fingertips into his shoulders, trying to anchor herself. His kisses were soft, urgent, drugging. Each one was a little more so than the last. More wondrous, more intoxicating, more forceful.
More.
And she found herself welcoming it and wanting more.
So much more.
Maybe it was because she hadn’t been with a man since Alex had left her life. She hadn’t wanted anyone, had purposely made sure there wasn’t anyone who could get this close to her ever again. Close enough to take her into his arms. Close enough to kiss her. Close enough to completely ignite all her resolve, all her good plans.
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