CHAPTER Eight
“Truce?” Connor offered at breakfast on Saturday.
After a moment Victoria took the hand he held out. This was the closest Connor would come to an apology for employing Anne without her input. “Truce,” she agreed.
For Dylan’s sake.
And for her own. She had to learn to get on with Connor better. But it wasn’t easy—he could be so dominating.
“Anne’s very good with Dylan,” she conceded. She felt the day brighten when Connor grinned at her.
“Let’s take Dylan out today to celebrate his recovery,” he suggested as he reached for a slice of toast.
“Today?”
Dismayed, Victoria stared at him. She’d intended to wash her hair while Dylan had his morning nap. The week had sped past, and between work and Dylan she’d hardly had a moment to call her own. She hadn’t even had an opportunity to try out the large bath with jets in the guest en suite bathroom.
Connor’s face hardened. “I’ll take him to the zoo alone—and you can go to work.”
Annoyance ignited within her. This was his idea of a truce? “I had no intention of working this weekend. And the zoo sounds fantastic. I just wanted an hour to—” washing her hair sounded so self-indulgent and would no doubt unleash more contempt “—to take a shower.”
“How about I feed Dylan and keep him out of your hair for an hour and we leave a little later?”
“That would be wonderful.” She beamed at Connor, her heart lighter than it had been for weeks. “Thank you.”
Two lionesses lolled about on their backs like giant kittens on a grassy hillock, revealing creamy tummies to the delighted crowd that had taken advantage of the sunny day to visit the zoo.
Dylan gurgled in his pushchair and several children shrieked as one of the lionesses rolled over lithely and rose to her feet, before padding to the edge of the moat that divided the big cats from the spectators.
After the giant feline had finished drinking and had flopped down on a sunny rock, Connor and Victoria meandered farther along the path, Connor pushing the baby’s loaded buggy, to where two elephants picked at a hay net with their trunks.
Connor glanced over at Victoria. Since they’d gotten to the zoo she’d attracted a fair amount of second looks. With her hair as sleek and shiny in the sunlight as polished mahogany and her hazel eyes alight with excitement, she looked happier than he’d ever seen her.
And, dammit, she was downright gorgeous.
To get his attention off the way her white denim skirt clung to her posterior, Connor swept Dylan out of his pushchair and held him high.
“See the elephants, Dylan?” Victoria pointed and her buttoned yellow cardigan pulled taut across her breasts.
Connor stifled a groan and his hands involuntarily tightened on the baby, who muttered a protest and wriggled in Connor’s arms.
“Sorry, mate.”
But Dylan had already stilled at the sight of the huge pachyderms as the nearest elephant flapped its ears. A chortle escaped—the sound of baby delight.
Connor laughed aloud and his eyes caught Victoria’s over Dylan’s head. For a second they shared a pure joy. Then Dylan began to bump up and down in Connor’s arms in excitement.
“Whoa, that’s an elephant, Dyl. He’s too big to pick a fight with.”
“Size doesn’t matter,” said Victoria.
Connor shot her a glance. Nope, she wouldn’t hold back against a bigger opponent.
High color flagged her cheeks. “Sorry, that came out wrong. What I meant to say was that Dylan should never let himself be intimidated.”
His mouth twitching, Connor cocked his head to one side and considered her. “So you’re conceding size does count?”
She gave him a quick up-down look and Connor waited for the acid comeback. Instead he encountered eyes filled with flustered nervousness.
He’d unsettled her. Score to him.
Connor grinned inwardly.
She blinked rapidly. “I’m just saying the giant doesn’t always win—remember David and Goliath.”
He swept his gaze slowly over her. “You don’t look like any David I’ve ever met.”
She made a sound of mock disgust. Connor threw back his head and laughed, and a moment later, to his astonishment, Victoria joined in.
He held out a hand to her. “Let’s go see the otters.”
To his surprise she reached for his hand, her fingers linking through his, the pushchair trailing in her other hand. Heat bolted through him and all laughter vanished as he looked at her—really looked at her—with a shaken sense of never having seen her before.
Then Dylan butted him, claiming his attention, and Connor came back to reality with a thump.
Later Victoria helped Connor lay a rug down on the freshly mown grass in front of an empty bandstand near a lake with ducks and swans. Connor rolled on his back, pulling Dylan onto his chest while Victoria knelt beside him and reached for the picnic basket they’d brought along.
It was all so domestic.
And most amazing of all, she and Connor hadn’t argued once.
He was holding Dylan above him on outstretched arms, making airplane noises. Laughter lines crinkled his cheeks. God, he was gorgeous.
An unwanted echo of that moment when their eyes had locked—of the scintillating awareness that had sizzled earlier—sent a frisson through her.
No.
She was not falling into that trap. Connor was her coguardian, not a prospective date. She daren’t start finding him attractive.
Looking away, she rummaged into the basket and pulled out a container of sandwiches that Moni had prepared.
The thud on her back took her breath away. Her eyes shot open in time to see a football rolling along the blanket and a pair of sneakers following in swift pursuit. Boyish hands scooped the ball up.
“Jordan, apologize at once!”
“Sorry.” A sheepish grin appeared from beneath a baseball cap. “Won’t do it again.” A singsong note of overuse underlay the words.
Her breath back, Victoria suppressed the urge to call him a name—or worse, grin at him and condone the carelessness. “Perhaps kick the ball the other way.”
Connor sat up beside her, perching Dylan on his knee, and gave the boy a level stare.
“No, I’ve already told Jordan that he’s not to lose a fifty-dollar ball in the tiger’s cage.” A harried-looking woman with red hair standing up in spikes had appeared. “You have to be more careful, boy.”
But Jordan was already gone, zigzagging over the lawn, dribbling the ball ahead of him.
“Kids.” The woman rolled her eyes. Then she added, “At least yours is still harmless. Enjoy him while you can. It gets worse.”
Victoria started to correct the redhead, to tell her that Dylan wasn’t their baby. Then she stopped herself. It was just too hard to explain.
So she smiled instead. “We will.”
“Your baby’s very cute.”
Dylan gurgled and blew a raspberry on cue.
“Thanks.”
Jordan’s mother shifted her attention to Connor. “He’s going to have his mother’s goldy-brown eyes and his father’s dimples.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Connor said politely.
Victoria could’ve kissed him for silently standing by her decision to say as little as possible.
Victoria had laughed with Suzy in the past when complete strangers had told short, blonde, bubbly Suzy how much the newborn Dylan looked like her—not realizing he didn’t possess any of Suzy’s DNA. Now the memory made her ache with loneliness.
“I’d better find Jordan before he wrecks the place.” The redhead scanned the surroundings until she found her son. “Or lands in the pond with the goldfish!” She gave them a rueful smile. “I made the mistake of having only one—so when he doesn’t have a friend, guess who has to play with him?” She thrust a thumb at her chest. “Me. Don’t do what I did. Make sure you have another kid to keep yours company.”
Victoria fidgeted, uncomfortably hot at the too-tempting idea of creating a baby with Connor. Thankfully, Jordan’s mother didn’t seem to expect a reply; she simply wiggled her fingers at Dylan before vanishing in Jordan’s wake.
After what seemed an age Victoria couldn’t bear the tingling silence any longer. Unable to help herself, she turned her head. And instantly wished she’d resisted the lure.
Connor was staring at her with predatory speculation, and the normally cool eyes simmered with heat.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Victoria pulled herself together. It was up to her to defuse this sexual tension, and as rapidly as possible.
She chose to do so with humor. “Poor Jordan. What on earth is his mother going to tell his girlfriends one day?”
Connor flung his head back and laughed. And the strange, heavy ache below her heart expanded, filling her with a yearning she’d never expected.
The day ended all too soon.
After securing Dylan in the backseat, Connor held the Maserati’s passenger door open for Victoria. And found himself staring at her legs with all the frustrated hunger of a university student eager for his first lay.
They were nice legs. Encased in opaque winter stockings, they were shapely, too. So why the hell hadn’t he noticed them before?
Probably because he’d never seen them. She usually wore black trousers, or long skirts in neutral colors. Black, navy or gray. She never wore a denim skirt that rode up.
Like now.
But he shouldn’t feel this … desperate … about stroking them.
She cleared her throat. “You can shut the door.”
Caught.
“Sorry.” He shook his head sheepishly. “Don’t know what I was thinking.”
She gave him an old-fashioned look. He shrugged and decided to try for some damage control. He didn’t need her knowing how she’d tied him into damned Gordian knots. “So I’ve always been a bit of a leg man—blame a male’s basic instincts.”
“Control those instincts.” But she laughed, flushing a little. “You’ve spent too long around the animals today, I think.”
“Perhaps,” he conceded.
If she only knew how much testosterone her spontaneous smile and slender body had unleashed, she’d be running for the hills—with him in hot pursuit.
He closed the door with a snap and strode around to the driver’s side.
A stolen sideways glance revealed that despite Dylan’s inquisitive fingers her hair was still sleek. Yet sometime during the day she’d lost the faint tension that always seemed to cling to her. It must be the fact that a smile had never been far from her lips.
It wasn’t something she did often enough.
He fired up the Maserati and pulled out onto the road. “Tired?” he asked as he stopped for a red light.
“Exhausted.”
He pushed the gearshift into neutral and turned his head. “At least I’m not alone in that.”
The smile she gave him caused his groin to tighten.
“But it was worth it,” she said. “Thanks. It was a great idea.”
Connor told himself to keep it light. “Zoos were created for adults.”
She tilted her head. “Why do you say that?”
“Didn’t you notice the amount of newborns and young babies? All those parents have been waiting years to legitimately get back into a zoo, bitterly regretting the day they told their parents that thirteen made them too cool for kiddie outings.”
She laughed.
Then she ruined his pleasure by pointing out, “The lights have changed.”
“Thanks.” Connor put the car into gear and accelerated smoothly away.
“You could be right. I think most of the parents there today were having more fun than the kids.” She leaned her head back on the headrest. “Dylan certainly slept through a good part of the day.”
And it had been during those spells that he’d been tempted to give in to the devilish urge to kiss her. Hot memories of the last time he’d kissed her—when she’d almost ended up totally naked on his lap—had kept him awake more than one night since she’d moved in. But he’d resisted it, fearing he might destroy the delicate truce that had developed between them.
“I had fun,” he murmured finally.
“Me, too.”
Her voice was smiling. Connor wished he could take his eyes from the road to study her, to see if the corners of her mouth had tipped up into that irresistible curve.
Okay, he wanted her. There. He’d admitted it. He wanted to soak himself in the scent of her, wanted to sate himself in her body.
So where did that leave him?
Connor started through the options with relentless efficiency. He would have to invest time in this—Victoria wouldn’t accept anything less, he was certain of that.
Yet he couldn’t possibly have an affair with Dylan’s coguardian. Somewhere down the line it would all turn to custard, and Dylan would be the one to suffer.
He thought back to earlier in the afternoon when Jordan’s mother had mistaken them for a couple. And Dylan for his baby …
It didn’t mean a thing.
Because she’d also assumed Victoria was Dylan’s mother.
A glance in the rearview mirror showed Dylan snoozing in the backseat of the Maserati, his dark-gray eyes closed, his cheeks pink and his mouth open in an O.
Goldy-brown eyes. The woman was a kook.
Victoria bore no resemblance to Dylan at all. They weren’t even related. But they could be … if he married her.
Because then she’d be the wife of Dylan’s sperm-donor father.
He tightened his hands around the steering wheel. God, how had this gotten so complicated? It made his head go numb.
But not nearly as badly as the desire that made him crave to get Victoria into his bed, under his body—
“We should do it again sometime.”
“What?” His voice went rough with want. Could she have read his carnal thoughts?
“Visit the zoo again.”
Of course she couldn’t read his thoughts. He blew out in relief. “Yes, yes, we must.”
He could marry her—the crazy thought leapt back into his mind and just as quickly he banished it. He didn’t want to marry the woman. Hell, he hadn’t wanted to marry Dana, either. Victoria was just as career-minded—nothing like the kind of woman he wanted to live with for the rest of his life.
Except his libido refused to agree.
After putting the baby into his night suit on Sunday night, Victoria settled down to feed him his bottle in the spacious rocking chair that had been delivered to the nursery yesterday while they’d been out at the zoo.
Yesterday.
She glanced across to Connor where he sat perched on the love seat opposite her, riffling through a pile of picture books on the floor in front of him.
Yesterday she’d discovered a side to Connor that she’d never known existed. A warm, fun, funny side. But as soon as they’d gotten home Connor had disappeared, and today she’d barely seen him. She was starting to think he must be avoiding her.
Yet here he was acting as though everything was normal.
Victoria decided she’d never fathom the man out.
He seemed impervious to her disquiet as he picked up a picture book and held it up, saying, “This one, don’t you think, big guy?”
Dylan sucked more fiercely on the bottle.
“Good taste, son.”
Connor flipped open the first page. Despite his deep voice, he read with a soft, easy rhythm that was curiously soothing. By the time he’d reached the end of the board book, Dylan’s eyelids had fallen and Victoria was feeling easier … almost sleepy.
Setting the book on the pile beside the love seat, Connor stretched his arms above his head. “I’ve been thinking.”
The warm, fuzzy feeling receded. Victoria opened her eyes in time to see him rise to his feet. She regarded him warily as tension zapped through her. “About?”
He looked remote, powerful and somewhat alien, standing across from her with his hands on his hips. Was he about to tell her that he’d reconsidered their unconventional custody arrangement—that she should go home? Or was he going to demand she give up work to stay home with Dylan? She’d been dreading that.
She told herself Connor couldn’t force her to do anything she didn’t want to do.
But imperceptibly her muscles grew taut.
He hesitated only for an instant. “I think we should get married.”
“What?”
Dylan stirred in her arms and she rocked him hurriedly. “Where did that come from?” she whispered fiercely to Connor.
“It will make it much easier for Dylan,” he said in a low voice, crossing the space between them and staring down at the baby who slept so peacefully in the crook of her arm. “And do away with the constant need for explanations.”
“This is because of the woman at the zoo yesterday?”
He spread his hands out wide. “Her mistake was understandable and it’s going to happen more and more, particularly if we’re living together.”
Victoria couldn’t believe she hadn’t blurted out no to his proposal straight away. Until a few days ago there’d always been hostile tension between them. They’d never gotten along, and she’d spent two years actively avoiding him while Suzy and Michael were alive.
So why hadn’t she simply said no?
One word.
No … no … no!
Easy.
But she didn’t say it.
Because of Dylan.
She tilted her head back and studied Connor critically. He was tall. Strong. Deep in her belly, heat stirred. She suppressed it ruthlessly. She knew he was good at sport. He’d be able to pass those skills on to Dylan.
Dylan was the only reason she could ever marry Connor.…
A glance down at the baby revealed his smooth, round face, untroubled by the demons chasing her. If she married Connor then Dylan would have a family again. A mother and a father. A world away from merely living with his guardians.
How could she deprive him of that?
A real family.
But Victoria couldn’t lie to herself. There was another, much more selfish reason to marry Connor. If she did her place in Dylan’s life would be secure.
She would be able to relax, to stop worrying that he’d get rid of her as soon as Dylan settled down. As his wife, it would be a lot harder for Connor to evict her from Dylan’s life.
Uncannily, Connor echoed her thoughts: “If we were married we could provide a stable home for Dylan.”
A shivery awareness filled her. How far did he intend to take this idea of giving Dylan a stable home? She thought about the frank woman at the zoo. Don’t do what I did. Make sure you have another kid to keep yours company. Would Connor want to provide Dylan with siblings? Would he expect her to make love with him? Past experience had proved that he only had to touch her for desire to ignite into burning heat.
She turned her attention away from the baby and back to the man who’d taken over her thoughts, her life. “Connor—”
He held up a hand. “Wait. Before you reject the idea, you need to know that I’m committed to this. I won’t pull out in a year or two and want a divorce.”
She tried to read the expression in his eyes, but the night-light was too dim.
To put a little distance between them she rose to her feet and gently deposited the snoozing Dylan in his cot. Tugging at the cord that hung near the baby’s cot, she flooded the room with soft light and turned to face the man who had put her world into uproar.
“How can you possibly be so sure? You might fall in love and want a real marriage.” Would she be any good at marriage? Her parents had married because she was already on the way. Would marrying for Dylan’s sake be any different?
“I’m not looking for love.” He gave her a crooked smile. “Let’s just say that Dana forever killed any desire I had for a ‘real’ marriage.”
Sadness unexpectedly seeped through Victoria. No woman would be able to steal that cold, shriveled heart. He’d shut himself up behind high, impenetrable walls.
Deeply disappointed for some reason she couldn’t fathom, she found herself shaking her head. “I can’t marry you.”
He seemed to take root and a stillness overtook his large frame. “You don’t think it would be a good idea for Dylan?”
What was she supposed to say to that? Tell him about her own parents’ failures? And let him realize how poor a mother she might be? Definitely not! “Of course, Dylan would benefit.”
“So why not marry me?”
She shifted restlessly. She thought of her father … ever drifting, never home. Of her mother’s unhappiness. “There’s more to marriage than Dylan.”
His eyes gleamed. “Are you referring to sex?”
Her skin went all tight.
“You don’t want to have sex with me? Is that it?”
Oh, dear God. He’d misunderstood. But sex …
She couldn’t stop staring at him. At the depth of his chest. The large, capable hands. The hard mouth that could smile so gorgeously. Her skin grew tighter. “No … no, I don’t.”
He smiled. It wasn’t a very nice smile. “May I ask why not?”
Damn him.
She wriggled like a bug on a stick. “Because I don’t make love with every conceited, arrogant jerk who comes along.” He shook his head and laughed. “That puts me in my place.”
“And I don’t like you,” she said, seized by a burst of unreasonable anger, “and I’m quite sure you don’t like me much either.”
“Liking has nothing whatsoever to do with sex, Victoria.” He drawled her name out slowly, deliberately, making her feel utterly Victorian and positively puritanical.
At the pale-silver gleam in those dangerous eyes she grew itchy, but forced herself to sit unmoving. “I need to actually like a man to make love with him.”
“So naive. You can’t have liked a great many men then.”
The implication took her breath away. “I’m not a misanthrope—I’m discerning. And it’s only you I’ve never liked. I’ve made love to enough men to know that I don’t do casual encounters.”
She’d even dated a guy for two years before breaking it off when he’d asked her to marry him. She’d gotten scared. It would never have worked—not even if she’d been more confident—he’d been easygoing and fun loving. A tumbleweed. He’d constantly nagged her to relax, to slow down, unable to understand that she was driven for reasons of her own to make a success of her life. Whatever the cost.
At least that was one thing she had in common with Connor—he’d worked hard to get where he was. Even though he’d expected her to take extended leave at the drop of a hat.
Shadows flickered in the silvery depths. “There will be nothing casual about our encounter. I can promise you that.”
She shivered deep inside. “You make it sound dangerous.”
He stalked closer. “We’ve always struck sparks off each other, and this will be no different.” He stared into her eyes, searching for something she was equally determined never to concede. “It will blow your world apart.”
It was so tempting.…
“I know there’s no one out there waiting for you. Just say yes, Victoria.”
Too tempting.
And the emptiness would be forever filled by Connor … and Dylan. A family. A chance to have what Suzy had had.
What she’d never dared hope for.
Before she could think better of it, she leaned forward and placed her lips against his.
He froze.
She parted her lips. Lightly, delicately she traced her tongue tip over his mouth. His chest lifted against her, rising, pressing against breasts that were suddenly tender.
She tasted him, sipped at him, until his breath escaped in short, jerky gasps. His arms came around her, engulfing her, holding her close. He was hard, all male. The snug fit of his jeans couldn’t hide the erection that had sprung to life, a rock-like ridge against her lower belly.
He cupped her bottom, pulled her up against him and took her mouth. It was her turn to shudder with desire. He thrust his tongue deep, and the act of possession sent a primitive thrill through her.
Stroking the inside of her mouth, his tongue searched out the smooth skin inside her cheeks, the highly sensitized roof-arch.
She groaned, a hoarse, wanting sound.
No longer aware of where they were—barely aware of how long it had been since the kiss began—she focused on the hunger that raged between them.
He moved closer, his leg pushing between hers, the harsh fabric of his jeans rough against her skin. But that was sexy, too.
Until Dylan mumbled in the cot behind her and she leapt away from Connor as if she’d been scalded.
Connor stood rigid. His eyes were wide and, for the first time since the night he’d come to tell her of Michael’s death, she recognized the emotion in his eyes.
Shock.
Her heart hammering, she balled her hands at her sides to stop them from reaching for him. “See what you made me do? That was monumentally stupid.”
He swallowed, and she fixed her gaze on his Adam’s apple, watched it bob up and down, avoiding his too-astute eyes. Hurriedly she added, “You irritated me.” And flicked her gaze up.
Then wished she hadn’t.
White-hot. That’s what his eyes were. Enough to incinerate her.
“I overreacted—and so did you.” Silence. “Don’t you agree?” More silence. “I don’t want to make love without it meaning anything,” she protested, more to convince herself than him, wishing she wasn’t having this wretched one-sided conversation with a man she simply didn’t understand.
“I’m not asking you to.” He sounded so reasonable. “I only asked you to marry me.”
Her heart sank. “So you’re proposing a marriage in name only? Absolutely no sex?” She risked a look at him. His expression was indecipherable.
“Do I understand you correctly?” He drew a deep, audible breath. “If we take sex out of the equation you’d marry me?”
“Maybe …” It was a croak of sound. But her body was urging more, more, more.
“This is no time for maybe, Victoria. Yes or no?”
They weren’t touching. Yet over the gap that separated them she could feel the heat of his body, the force of his power.
Victoria started to tremble. She was ready to say anything to stop the sizzle.
“Yes,” she sighed.