"Sorry, little bit," Case said to Molly now as he reached the front of the church. "I had trouble getting away." He leaned closer to kiss his niece's cheek, and sunlight caught the inky silk of his hair, finding traces of silver among the thick strands. Though he'd always worn his hair longer than fashion dictated, it was now long enough to fall past his shoulders without the restraint of the rubber band pulling it back into a ponytail. No doubt about it, Prudy thought with a sad pang, her ex-husband was still a seductively attractive—and intimidating—man.
Molly introduced her uncle to the minister, who lifted his snowy eyebrows at the mention of Case's last name. "Oh, then you and this lovely lady are married?" the pastor said, beaming paternally from one to the other.
"Not anymore," Prudy informed him, finally finding her smile as she met Case's gaze. His eyes were still the color of midnight, with smudges of obsidian around the irises. Predatory eyes, she'd once called them, until they warmed with an inner fire. And then she'd lost the ability to form a coherent thought.
Seasoned by time, his face was ruggedly hewn, more angles than curves, with a lack of symmetry she'd always found irresistible, even as it hinted at the dark complexity of the man himself.
Though her brain noted changes—a tiny gold earring winking at her from his left ear, added lines of stress in his broad forehead, deeper grooves framing his hard mouth, a sharper edge to the cynicism in his eyes—she smiled at the memory of those lips brushing hers on that first magical night when she'd started falling in love.
"Hello, Prudy. Nice to see you again." His voice was cool, his gaze impersonal, before it dropped to the child in her arms, and Prudy felt a stab of pain.
"He looks like you, Uncle Case," Molly said, beaming down at her son.
"Poor kid," Case all but growled. "Maybe he'll get over it."
Molly punched him, and he grinned at her, revealing a flash of deep male dimples.
Remember the arguments and the anger, Prudy reminded herself as she inhaled the familiar scent of his after-shave. Remember the loneliness after he left, and the hours spent waiting by the phone. Squaring her shoulders, she lifted her chin and forced calm into her expression. When she met Case's gaze, he lifted one black eyebrow in a mocking salute.
Bastard, she thought, her temper sparking.
"If you'll take your places around the font, we'll begin," the pastor ordered with a brisk note of anticipation. "Godparents on my left, please. Parents on my right."
As Case took his place next to the woman he'd never figured to see again, he decided he needed a stiff drink. At least a double. Hell, no, a triple, he amended as the minister opened a small black book and cleared his throat.
Late afternoon sunshine spilled from the triangular window in the soaring facade behind the altar to bathe Prudy in a golden glow, and for an instant he felt his breath dam up in his throat. Her heart-shaped face was radiant beneath the coppery halo of her hair as she gazed down at the baby cradled in her arms. A shaft of pain shot through him, slicing neatly and efficiently through the chains he'd put around his emotions.
She looked so right, standing there. So serenely happy. Only someone who knew her very well, or loved her with all his heart, would notice the subtle curve of sadness at the corners of her smile.
He told himself he was neither—just a cop trained to notice the tiniest details. Like the fact that her profile was as fragile as ever, a heart-tugging combination of sensitive slopes and impish curves. It was a pixie's face, he'd teased her once. With lush brown eyes that took on a subtle gleam of golden warmth when she laughed and a wide expressive mouth. Pensive, sad, even trembling with anger, her mouth had once driven him crazy, just as her lush shape had once robbed him of good sense.
She was thinner now, he noticed, but the curves under the clinging material of her dress were generous enough to excite a dead man to life. Her derriere was sweetly rounded beneath the graceful folds of her skirt, and her breasts filled the bodice to perfection. In spite of her short stature, she had a ripe figure, as perfect now as it had been the first time he'd coaxed her to bare it to him.
Gritting his teeth, he dragged in a lungful of air, then let it out slowly. Did God punish a man for lusting after his ex-wife in church? he wondered as the solemn words of the ancient rite rolled over him. Because, if he did, Case was pretty sure he'd just been sentenced to the fires of hell…
Daddy by Accident Page 20