SINGLE FATHER SEEKS...

by Amy J. Fetzer

  "Does that mean you had some sort of falling out with family members?"

  "You could say that." Or not. She wasn't giving him anything to chew on.

  Good grief, Bryce thought, getting even a shred of information out of Ciara was like pulling teeth. He wondered if it had anything to do with why she was in Hong Kong. She had been an embassy secretary, she'd said. Bryce had his doubts. She hadn't acted like any secretary he knew and for a moment he remembered the lavish reception where he'd first seen her. Where he'd been stationed in one position, covering the doorways, she'd mingled with dignitaries, slipping around the ballroom, but there had been something… Was she with the NSA? CIA? FBI?

  Ciara could see the cogs of his mind working for a solution. "Forget it Bryce, I'm not spilling my problems. Want a glass of wine with your dinner?" She walked to the cabinet to get it.

  "Ciara, why are you so evasive?"

  She spun around. "Why are you so interested in my past? It's nothing, average, and I don't want to relive it."

  In the past thirty seconds, she decided to just make him believe that it was too horrible to remember. Then the images battered her: learning of her parents' death and taking over, taking Mom's place while her dreams were shelved for a while. Her brothers and their families and how much she missed being with them, and how much she couldn't. She'd always felt as if she were outside the fence, not allowed in, not allowed to experience love and tenderness. And a home. A real home. It hadn't bothered her. Well, not much. Not enough to do something about it, like leave the CIA, at least.

  She lifted her gaze to Bryce's. Okay, so it hadn't bothered her until recently. But that didn't change a thing. It couldn't. Her career was all she had.

  Yet Bryce and his baby girl touched her in places she'd been so certain were smothered. They were cracking through her training and she couldn't afford to let it happen. Regardless of the consequences to her and her heart, she had a job to return to and the sooner, the better.

  Right now, Carolina needed her. Bryce didn't.

  He was just being a man. He knew her in the biblical sense and felt that gave them a connection. It didn't. It wasn't deep, she told herself. It was just sex. Great sex, but one night didn't give them a past and she would make certain the coming weeks wouldn't, either. Yet the situation itself brewed intimacy. He was already too curious. She had to say and do the right things, keep her emotions and opinions under control. And not get near Bryce enough to want to touch him.

  Because one stroke to her skin and it was as if she were a dried-up flower in need of the sweet touch of rain that only he could give her.

  * * *

  Chapter 3

  « ^ »

  "I'll let it go for now," he said to her back. He could see that it hurt her to talk about her past.

  Relief swept her and Ciara moved items on the counter uselessly.

  "But not for long." He'd give his right arm to get a scrap of information out of her.

  "I'm not important, Carolina is."

  Suddenly he was there, behind her, gripping her upper arms and Ciara closed her eyes and drank in the feeling. "Don't," she whispered. Oh mercy. Nobody, she thought, nobody makes me feel like he does. She couldn't get control of herself and almost twisted in his arms right then. "You've already made it clear I'm the help."

  His lips were near her ear, his words sending a delicious chill down her throat. "You could never be."

  She swallowed hard. "Bryce," she hissed softly, the warm press of his body behind hers igniting fires that could never be extinguished.

  "I had dreams about you saying my name like that. That night, with no names, no past or future. It was the most erotic one of my life."

  Mine too, she thought, but wouldn't admit it. She was barely holding on to her control as it was.

  Then he pulled her back against him, hard.

  Bryce breathed in her scent, the feel of her this close, and though he knew he shouldn't, he pressed his mouth to her throat.

  Her groan was low and wicked.

  "Ciara. You're driving me nuts, you know."

  "Same here." She kept her hands clenched tightly at her sides to keep from reaching back and touching him.

  Then he slid his hands down her arms and around her waist, his palms splayed over her stomach and driving heat down to the core of her. "We have to forget about that night, Bryce. We have to or I can't stay here."

  "It's hard to forget when I've kissed you, tasted you." He dragged his mouth down the side of her throat. "Been inside you," he said in a voice wrought with desire.

  A sharp tingling spiraled out of control and, determined to hold tight to the resolutions she'd made only moments ago, Ciara twisted out of his arms.

  "Don't."

  Bryce simply stared as she turned off the range. Her hands were shaking. Hell, he was shaking. But with Ciara, this heat and fire, just … existed. No explanation. So how was he supposed to fight it?

  Well, the way she was looking daggers at him should help. But it didn't. It made him want to crack through that armor she threw up between them at will and find out why she did it.

  Then Carolina squealed with delight.

  And it was the smile she gave his daughter, warm and without hesitation, that softened him. But when she brought her gaze back to his, staring at him with cool indifference, Bryce wondered how she could turn her emotions on and off so easily. He sure as hell couldn't. And that reminded him that she'd strolled into his life one night like a hot summer storm and walked out just as easily without a backward glance.

  Leaving him naked and hungry on a hotel room floor.

  It hadn't bothered him then, but there was more at risk now. His daughter meant the world to him, and Bryce could see she was already attached to Ciara. He was grateful that if he couldn't be with his baby, at least Ciara was giving his daughter the attention she needed. And although he'd contracted for a permanent live-in nanny and housekeeper, she'd walked effortlessly away before. Would she do it again? Still, she wasn't here for his sake, he reminded himself as she bent to play with Carolina for a bit.

  She was here for his daughter and he decided he wouldn't look for trouble so soon.

  "Sit," Ciara said, pointing to the chair near Carolina.

  Like a trained puppy he obeyed.

  Ciara went back to the stove and served up the meal, placing the plate in front of him. Giving Carolina a glance to be certain she would be content for the next hour, Ciara surveyed the table, then walked toward the door.

  "Where are you going?"

  She paused at the doorway to glance back. "To my room."

  He gestured to the seat at the table. "You're not joining me?"

  "I'm the help, Bryce. And we need this line of division."

  "The hell we do," he said and when her posture stiffened, her eyes hardening, he took another approach. "Come on, join me, it's boring eating alone. Carolina isn't exactly talking my ear off, you know."

  Her gaze shifted to the child and he noticed how Ciara's expression softened.

  "Come on."

  Bryce left his chair and went to the cabinet, retrieving a plate, filling it, and setting it opposite his. He gathered utensils and when he plopped the last one down, he faced her.

  If her expression could have gone colder, it did.

  "No, Bryce. You aren't in the market more in this relationship and neither am I."

  But it was tempting, so tempting. Especially when Carolina was working a Cheerio between her lips and bouncing up and down in her high chair. Her gaze shifted to Bryce, the table, then back to the child. It was as if she could forget her career and slip right into their lives. But she couldn't. She had a traitor to catch and a job to return to, hopefully, before she was gone too long and forgot what being a secret agent was all about.

  She spun away and disappeared around the corner. Bryce looked at his daughter, who had gone so far as to voice her opinion in a scream loud enough to peel wallpaper.

  "I know, frustrating woman,
isn't she?"

  He dropped into his chair and picked up the fork. He didn't really see or taste the roasted pork loin stuffed with spinach and mushrooms. All he could envision was how cold Ciara could be when she wanted.

  And right now, he thought, staring at the empty kitchen, she was knee-deep in ice.

  After he'd finished his meal, Bryce cleaned the kitchen, stored the leftovers and flipped on the dishwasher. By then, Carolina was squirming to get out of the high chair and not making an effort to be dignified about it. Cleaning her off and lifting her into his arms, Bryce strolled around the house, telling himself that he was just looking around. He ended up alone in the sunroom, sinking down onto the flowered sofa, his daughter on his lap. She played with the buttons on his shirt and he studied his little girl, trying to see his late wife in his daughter's features and failing.

  What would Diana think of her, he wondered, then knew. Diana had been possessive about him and she would be the same about their daughter. His late wife had seemed to be grasping for something, afraid he would be torn from her, and he supposed that came from her being orphaned at a young age and raised in the foster care system too long. But one thing was for sure, she would have loved her daughter with everything she had.

  Slipping to the floor, he played with Carolina, watching her crawl across the carpet with amazing speed. Then he heard noise in the back part of the house and realized that Ciara was running a load of clothes through the washer. Just knowing she was closer, made his heart skip a little. And Carolina noticed, too. Her head lifted and she rolled around, her sharp gaze shooting to the doorway. She squawked, as if calling out and then patiently waited for an answer.

  Bryce's gaze shot to the door and he, too, waited for Ciara to appear.

  She didn't.

  But her voice came to them. "It's bedtime for her, Bryce," she called. "Why don't you put her down for the night."

  "No problem."

  He enjoyed the nightly ritual. But realizing that Ciara wouldn't even face him, or come near to say good-night to Carolina, struck him like an arrow. He looked at his daughter, her expectant expression, and the same question plowed through his mind. If Ciara could turn away from him so easily, would she do that to his little girl?

  * * *

  Changing diapers and cleaning up after a baby was no comparison to some of the things Ciara had done in her career. Sitting on a wicker loveseat and watching a baby play in the grass, watching her explore her world, was sheer pleasure. The sun was warm, the breeze gentle and for once Ciara didn't have to watch her back. The house was isolated enough and riddled with a state-of-the-art alarm system. She could relax, for the first time in too long.

  "No, sweetie, not in your mouth," Ciara said, lurching forward to remove grass from Carolina's tight fist. She gave her a spoon and shovel to bang and slid off the loveseat to join her little charge. She looked so much like Bryce it was uncanny.

  Yet while she and the baby were getting along famously, Ciara and Bryce were not. He was at the office, the seafood company, working and had been for the past two days. He'd come home tired, eaten and then slipped back into his office to work some more, offering no explanation.

  Not that she needed one.

  But Carolina was missing her daddy.

  It showed in the way she latched onto him when he leaned close to give her a kiss good-night. Ciara didn't have a problem with him being a workaholic. At least he trusted her with his daughter, she thought, glancing at the sun.

  Deciding it was too hot for Carolina to be outside, she gathered up the child and strolled back toward the house. The pool looked too inviting to ignore and she stepped down the first step and sat on the tiled rim. Gently she scooped water over the baby's toes, letting her get used to the temperature. Then she dipped Carolina's toes into the cool water. She kicked and splashed, then when she realized all that noise and water was coming from her, she kicked wildly some more.

  Ciara smiled, seeing the world through the infant's eyes. Like a bright shiny penny, and not a dull-edged cluster of loneliness.

  She didn't see Bryce standing in the doorway several feet behind her.

  He was silent as he watched them.

  Carolina was cooing with pure delight when normally she screamed the instant he'd tried to put her feet in the water. Heck, he'd come to think that his daughter would be terrified of the pool for the rest of her life.

  "Good girl!" Ciara said. "Pretty soon, you'll be dazzling us all with your swimming. You just wait, Carolina. Oh no, no diving," she said, gripping his daughter tighter when she wanted to sail headfirst into the water. "I think actually mastering freestyle would help first."

  Carolina made noise, and Ciara laughed, hugging his baby close.

  Slowly Bryce backed away and moved through the house and out the front door. He climbed into his car and slowly drove away. He'd come home to check on them, a little voice inside him telling him he shouldn't trust Ciara so easily. But when he'd seen them together, that was enough. Ciara might deny him, but he knew she'd never deny his daughter.

  And somehow, that thought left him feeling cheated.

  * * *

  Ciara laid the baby down for her afternoon nap, gently unwinding her hair from Carolina's pudgy little fist. Carolina instantly shoved the fist into her mouth and curled on her tummy. Ciara covered her with a sweet-smelling blanket, then leaned over, resting her chin on the rail of the crib and just watching Carolina for a moment. Okay, she admitted, she loved the little southern belle. She hadn't wanted to, but this baby needed her so much.

  But there was Bryce and the complication of him was just too much of a strain. Her insides felt twisted, her body alert and hungry, and her heart, well, that was bruised and wanting to be soothed. Something she couldn't indulge in right now. Being burned by Mark's infidelity was enough to scare her off relationships. Trusting men, especially one ex-Secret Service agent who sent her body into complete chaos, was not a good thing. Her survival training wasn't helping her much. She tried blocking the emotion, not giving Bryce an inkling that he could break her with just his touch. And she didn't know how long she could keep comparing Bryce with Mark and keep him out of her heart. She'd tried to see this as an assignment, an undercover masquerade, but it hadn't been like that, not even from the start. It fit too well.

  It made her long for what she couldn't have. It made her more and more aware that he slept down the hall from her. She'd tasted his loving once, had experienced him with all the carnal pleasures a woman could want, and the knowledge made her feel like a high-strung thoroughbred champing at the bit.

  If that evening in Hong Kong, those few hours were incredible, what would an entire night bring?

  Stop, she mentally screamed at herself. Sex isn't everything and he'd turn his back on you the instant he discovered you're CIA.

  It made her want to get out before either of them got hurt.

  She knew Bryce thought avoidance was the answer, but for Ciara, just being on the same planet with that man was difficult. She had to leave. Now. Before it was too late. All she needed was one word from her supervisor about Mark Faraday that he'd been caught and she'd be off again, either testifying against Faraday as a witness to his crime or fulfilling a new assignment.

  She left the nursery and went to her room. If Carolina could adapt easily to her, a stranger, she could do the same with anyone, right?

  Ciara plopped onto the bed, and opened the mini laptop, typing in the codes. Although she'd covered all the bases, disappeared without a trace as she'd done a hundred times before, there was that thread of risk to Carolina and Bryce she couldn't shake. She routed the computer phone line over the Internet and through four countries before she connected the phone to the computer and dialed. Ciara glanced at the door, then slid the small laptop under a pillow as a precaution. Katherine Davenport picked up instantly. They said hello, then Ciara got down to business.

  "You need to replace me."

  "What's wrong?"

  "I can
't do this to them."

  "Honey, you have to talk to me more than that."

  "It's him, Kat."

  "Him? Who him?"

  "Hong Kong," was all Ciara needed to supply.

  "Oh Lordy, the one-night, no-name man of mystery you refused to give me any details about except a secret smile?"

  Inwardly Ciara groaned. "Yes."

  "Bryce Ashland was your one-night fling?" Apparently the one time she mentioned it after years of no contact—was coming back to gloat.

  "Do I have to repeat myself? I know you're smarter than that."

  "Oh, testy, huh?"

  "You try to be around this man and see if he doesn't set your hormones jumping in five directions."

  "Feeling vulnerable?" Sadistic pleasure rippled through those words.

  "I can't afford to feel vulnerable," Ciara muttered. It was all she could do not to go to Bryce and demand he make her feel like a woman again. Demand that he make love to her instead of just have wild sex. That very thought made her see how much trouble she was in already. Love was the last thing she needed now. In no more than three days of living in his house, of sleeping just down the hall from him, she was slipping out of her element. Too quickly. And she was afraid she'd never get back to her career. And she wanted to be back, if anything to see her former partner Mark Faraday go down for his betrayal.

  "I can't stay here," she said, trying to convince herself as well as Kat. "His daughter is too adorable and she deserves someone better than me. Someone who'll stick around. Someone who can really be a mother to her. You have to get me out of this. I have to leave."

  "I guess I can find—" Kat started to say.

  The phone was snatched from Ciara's hand.

  Her head jerked up and she found Bryce hovering over her.

  "No," he said into the receiver.

  Jumping to her feet, Ciara reached for the phone. "Bryce! This is a private conversation."

  "Too bad. I heard."

  He kept the phone from her and Ciara had the urge to take him to the ground like one of the hundreds of suspects she'd left incapacitated in the past. But that would reveal the secret she needed to keep.