by Gina Wilkins
The car suddenly sped away, disappearing into the night.
“Did you get the license plate number?” Steve asked, squinting after the nondescript dark vehicle.
She shook her head as the first tremor ran through her. “No.”
His arm tightened around her. “Let’s get inside.”
Moving almost robotically, Casey went straight to the wailing baby and lifted her out of the bassinet. She didn’t know if she was offering comfort or seeking it, but it seemed to work both ways. Annie stopped crying. Casey snuggled the baby into her shoulder, resting her cheek against her soft little head.
As concerned as she was about whatever they’d stumbled into, she knew one thing for sure—there was no way she could hand this baby over to strangers now.
Steve was frowning and pacing the living room when Casey carried Annie in. “Okay,” he said, turning to Casey as if in sudden decision. “I’m going to try again to reach Blake—the P.L I mentioned to you before. I haven’t been able to find him so far. He was still in Texas last I heard, but that was a while ago and he moves around a lot. There are a couple of people I can call who might know how to reach him.”
“You think he’ll know what we should do?”
Looking rueful, Steve shrugged. “He has to have a better idea than I do. He’s the P.L—I’m just a pilot.”
A pilot who was going to an awful lot of trouble for a baby that wasn’t his, Casey added silently. A pilot who had been prepared to face down the person who’d followed Casey and scared her half-silly. A pilot who had made her feel safe and protected just by standing beside her on his front porch.
It wasn’t going to be easy to go back to comfortably hating him when this was all over, she thought.
Not that she was the kind of woman who wanted a man’s protection, she reminded herself impatiently. “So what do we do now?”
“I’ll make a couple of calls while you try to get Annie back to sleep. You can take the spare bedroom tonight. Annie can stay in the bassinet in my room.”
Casey still wasn’t comfortable with the prospect of spending the night here, but she was even less enthused about the idea of returning home alone when whoever had been following her might be waiting for her there. “I’ll stay,” she said. “But remember what you promised me earlier.”
A quick flash of a wicked grin momentarily lightened his somber expression. “I’ll behave—for as long as you want me to.”
“I think we both know the answer to that,” she said primly.
When he suddenly laughed, she realized he hadn’t taken her words exactly as she’d intended them. “A guy can only hope, Casey, darlin’.”
AN HOUR LATER, Annie had been fed again and was sleeping in the bassinet. “Maybe this time she’ll stay asleep for a while,” Steve said in a low voice, leading Casey out of the room.
“She’s too young to sleep through the night, I suppose.”
He nodded. “I set out some things for you in the spare bedroom. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to let me know.”
He couldn’t quite read her expression. “I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she answered. “Thank you.”
Pausing outside the door to the spare bedroom, he reached out to brush a strand of hair away from her face. She looked pale, he thought Tired. Yet still beautiful. “Everything will be all right, Casey.”
“I’m afraid we’ve gotten in over our heads,” she admitted. “We don’t know who’s looking for Janice or why someone was following me tonight We don’t know where Janice is, what she’s running from, how she’ll be able to take care of her baby when—or if—she comes back. I’m afraid we should have called the police immediately after we found Annie—for the sake of everyone involved.”
“We can call them right now if you feel that’s what you have to do,” Steve said steadily, though it wasn’t easy for him to make the offer. Still, Casey was as involved with this as he was. She was the one who’d been followed and was now so frightened she didn’t want to go home. If she wanted to turn this problem over to the police, he could hardly blame her—even though the last thing he wanted was to get the bureaucrats involved.
He never had been one to let others deal with his problems, he thought
Casey hesitated long enough to make him nervous, then shook her head. “I can’t call them now,” she admitted, glancing toward his bedroom where Annie slept “I can’t just give the baby to strangers without knowing why Janice left her with us—with you, anyway.”
Relieved, Steve nodded. “We’ll give it another day. Let’s see what Blake says, if I can locate him. Or maybe Janice will call again.”
“And if Claybrook or Park contacts us again?”
“I hope they do,” Steve muttered, his fingers twitching with the urge to make the jerk pay for frightening Casey. “I’ve got a few things I’d like to say to whoever followed you tonight.”
Casey swallowed nervously. “I just wish we knew what they want.”
“We’ll find out,” he promised rashly. “We’ll get through this, Casey. Together.”
Her eyes widened a little at that, and he knew it was because she was more accustomed to thinking of him as a rival than as a partner. As much as he’d enjoyed their former sparring, he much preferred having her on his side.
“Is there anything I can do for you tonight?” he asked, reluctant to step away from her.
She shook her head. “No, thank you.”
“You’ll let me know if you need anything?”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
His gaze drifted down to her mouth, which looked soft and vulnerable without the carefully-applied lipstick she wore at work. He remembered exactly how she tasted—and he hungered for another sample. He was tempted to capture that lovely mouth with his—but he had promised to behave if she stayed the night. Which didn’t mean he couldn’t ask...
He touched a fingertip to her lower lip. “Would I be totally out of line if I ask for a good-night kiss?”
Her lip quivered beneath his touch. Her cheeks grew pink, and her eyelids dropped to hide her expression from him. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Looking at her mouth, he murmured, “It sounds like a damned good idea to me.”
“Steve...”
He sighed regretfully. “I know. I promised. But it was definitely worth a shot.”
She glanced up at him and he wondered if he caught a fleeting glimpse of temptation in her expression. Probably just wishful thinking, he decided when she reached behind her, opened the door and stepped backward into the bedroom. “Good night, Steve,” she said, closing the door neatly in his face.
“Good night, Casey, darlin’,” he murmured to the unresponsive wood.
He had her in his house, he thought as he moved toward his own room. Not quite in the way he had in mind—but it was certainly a step in the right direction.
CASEY SAGGED against the bedroom door for several long moments, telling herself she hadn’t really just been tempted to grab Steve Lockhart and kiss him senseless. It had only been a crazy, fleeting impulse—probably the result of a confusing, stressful day. There’d been no chance that she would actually follow up on it, of course.
Her gaze fell on the neatly turned-down bed and her mind filled with images of other impulses she had no intention of pursuing with Steve.
Telling herself she needed a brisk slap in the face to bring her to her senses, she ran her hands through her hair and moved toward the bed. Steve had been very thoughtful, she noted. A large black T-shirt lay beside a pair of soft black sweatpants. A fluffy towel and washcloth had been laid beside the garments. There was even a new toothbrush, still in the package, and an unopened tube of toothpaste.
Her mouth quirked into a reluctant smile when she spotted the wrapped chocolate candy on her pillow.
He really was a nut, she thought, picking up the candy and cradling it in her hand. If their circumstances were different...if she didn’t feel that she still had s
o much to prove...if she thought there was even a remote chance that two people so very different could have a relationship that didn’t end in total disaster...
She shook her head, telling herself there was no reason to waste time on foolish daydreams when she had so many other things on her mind.
Still, she couldn’t stop herself from vividly remembering Steve’s kisses as she dressed for bed.
7
THE LIGHTED DIAL of her watch read 2:00 a.m. when Casey awakened to the sound of a baby crying. Disoriented for a moment, she wondered if she’d fallen asleep with the television on again...and then she remembered exactly where she was. And why.
She heard the deep rumble of Steve’s voice as he passed her door, obviously carrying the baby whose howls had subsided to whimpers. Casey couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she suspected he was trying to soothe the baby so Casey wouldn’t be disturbed. He would be headed for the kitchen and the bottles of formula he’d left waiting in the refrigerator. Handling it on his own, she thought, rolling onto her back and staring at the shadowed ceiling. Taking complete responsibility for little Annie’s care.
He really was a most unusual man.
Knowing he had everything under control, she told herself to go back to sleep. It took nearly twenty minutes before she finally conceded that wasn’t going to happen. With a sigh, she tossed off the covers and swung her bare feet to the floor. A glance downward assured her she was decent. Steve’s black T-shirt swallowed her to her knees. Below that, the sweatpants she’d cinched tightly around her waist bagged around her ankles.
Wearing Steve’s clothes, she thought Sleeping in his spare bedroom. Caring for a baby with him.
She never would have dreamed when she’d chased him into his office yesterday to yell at him for stealing her customers that less than forty-eight hours later she would find herself in this situation.
He was sitting in the kitchen when she found him. He’d tossed a dish towel over his bare left shoulder and was supporting Annie against it, gently patting her back with his right hand. An empty baby bottle sat on the table in front of him, next to a nearly full glass of orange juice. He smiled at Casey when he spotted her in the doorway. “I’m sorry, did we disturb you?”
“No.” Quickly averting her eyes from his bare chest—oh. God, he looked even better beneath his clothes than she’d fantasized!—she seized on the first excuse that came to her mind. “I’m thirsty,” she said, moving toward the sink.
“There are milk and juices in the fridge.”
“Tap water’s fine,” she replied, filling a glass.
A hollow burp from behind her let her know Steve had been successful. Sipping her water, she turned to face him again, somewhat prepared this time for the sight of him. He’d pulled on a pair of jeans, leaving his feet bare. His hair was tousled sexily around his face and there was a shadow of a beard on his jaw. His eyelids were heavy and his brown eyes gleamed softly as he studied her in return. She doubted that he missed one detail of her disheveled appearance, and self-consciousness made her hand a bit unsteady when she placed her empty glass in the dishwasher.
“Anyone ever tell you how fetching you look in the middle of the night, Casey, darlin’?”
His tone was low, intimate, blatantly enticing. She tried to glare at him, but knew her effort wasn’t as effective as she might have liked. “Don’t start that.”
“Sorry. It just slipped out before I could stop it.”
He wasn’t at all sorry, of course. He’d known exactly what he was saying—and probably what it would do to her. She pointedly ignored him and looked at the baby. “She’s still awake,” she said unnecessarily.
Steve glanced automatically down at Annie, who lay in his arms looking around with wide eyes. “Of course she’s awake. Her Highness follows her own schedule.”
Annie made a sound that was a cross between a coo and a gurgle, and then looked surprised that the noise had emerged from her. Laughing softly, Steve leaned over her, murmuring nonsense and making faces while the baby watched him in fascination. Casey couldn’t resist stepping closer, standing next to Steve as she enjoyed the funny expressions crossing Annie’s little face. She bent closer, bringing her own face within Annie’s line of vision, smiling when the baby spotted her and focused fiercely.
“Hello, sweetie,” she crooned, reaching out to stroke the baby’s impossibly soft cheek. “You look awfully smug and satisfied.”
“Why shouldn’t she be smug and satisfied?” Steve asked with a chuckle. “She has both of us hovering over her, ready to cater to her every whim. Got us both wrapped around her tiny little finger.”
“But she doesn’t have her mommy,” Casey murmured, her mood turning melancholy as she found herself wondering where Janice was at that moment. Whether anyone was taking care of her.
“We’re working on that,” Steve said firmly. “As soon as I hear from Blake, we’re going to start an allout search for her. Even if it means getting the police involved.”
“You really don’t want to turn to the police, do you?”
“I have nothing against the police on the whole,” he answered, his tone guarded. “It’s the child welfare system that concerns me. I had a friend who grew up in the foster care system. Maybe it works most of the time, but some of the stories he told me would cause nightmares. I don’t like the thought of Annie getting sucked into that.”
“Neither do I, now that I’ve spent time with her,” Casey admitted, gazing protectively at the helpless child. “I just hope it won’t become necessary.”
Suddenly aware that she’d subconsciously rested a hand on Steve’s shoulder for balance—or had it been entirely subconscious?—she lifted her hand and stepped aside. Her fingers curled into her palm, still tingling from the contact with his warm, bare skin. She noticed that Annie was starting to look a bit sleepy as Steve rocked her in his arms. “Looks like she’ll be out again soon.”
He nodded, answering quietly. “I hope so. We can all use some more sleep.”
Watching the practiced rocking motions he made, she leaned against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest. “Are you sure you haven’t had any experience with babies? You’ve certainly handled Annie like an old pro.”
He smiled. “I did a bit of baby-sitting for my younger sister and brother, but nothing since.”
“Are you close to your brother and sister?”
“Considering we’re only able to get together a couple of times a year, we’re pretty dose, I suppose. You were an only child, weren’t you?”
“Except for Edward, my stepbrother. My mother died when I was very young and my father married Edward’s mother when I was six and Edward was ten.”
“Is your stepmother still living?”
“No. I guess that’s why Edward and I make an effort to stay in touch. We’re the only family either of us has left, even though there’s no actual blood connection.”
“Were you close to your father?”
Steve had met Casey’s father several times, of course, which probably explained the carefully neutral tone of his question. Casey knew her father had been openly hostile to the young man who’d had the audacity to go into direct competition with the long-established JCS. As she, herself, had been, she thought with a touch of discomfort. She couldn’t blame Steve if he had disliked Louis Jansen. But she’d never known why her own prickliness toward Steve had always seemed to amuse him more than it annoyed him.
She phrased her answer with care, family loyalty urging her to be cautious about what she revealed. “My father and I got along well enough.”
As long as she’d done everything her father wanted her to do, she could have added, but didn’t, of course.
“From what I saw of him, he was rather...demanding. I don’t expect he was an easy man to please.”
“No, not easy,” she admitted. “But he expected no more of others than he did of himself.”
“Did he push you into leaving law school and taking over JCS?�
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“Just the opposite, actually. He was afraid I couldn’t handle it. But Edward didn’t want it and Dad never found anyone else he trusted, so he had to turn it over to me and hope for the best.” If her lingering resentment of her father’s lack of faith crept into her voice, it wasn’t intentional, but unavoidable.
Steve studied her expression. “You’re still trying to prove to him that he was wrong about you—even though he’s been dead for a year.”
She shrugged. “Maybe I just need to prove it to myself.”
“Casey...”
“The baby’s asleep,” she said, unwilling to carry that particular topic any further. “Would you like me to carry her to bed while you finish your juice?”
He agreed, and Casey bent over to lift Annie carefully from his arms. Vividly aware of him, she concentrated intently on the baby. It was probably sleep deprivation that caused her to have the crazy urge to rest her cheek against his broad, bare shoulder, she told herself with exasperation. She should have gone home and faced the guy who’d followed her, rather than stay here and face her own weaknesses where Steve Lockhart was involved.
To her relief, Annie didn’t wake up when Casey laid her in the bassinet. While she waited to make sure the baby was really asleep, Casey couldn’t help noticing Steve’s big bed, the tumbled covers giving evidence that he had scrambled out of it when Annie had demanded her bottle. The room was dark except for the small, dimmed lamp on the nightstand, casting the corners into deep shadows, giving the room an air of intimacy.
Forcing her eyes away from the bed, she turned firmly toward the doorway...only to find Steve standing there, watching her.
She pulled her gaze quickly away from his sleek bare chest and swallowed hard.
She really should have gone home.
“She’s still asleep,” she whispered, motioning toward the bassinet. “I guess we’d better try to get some rest ourselves while we can.”
He didn’t step aside when she moved toward the door. She hesitated a foot away from him. “You’ll have to move so I can get by,” she reminded him, nodding toward the doorway he filled so thoroughly.