Shadows of Yesterday
Page 20

“You think it’s funny?” he asked belligerently. “What mental deviate thought up these instructions? You have to be either a genius or an idiot to understand them. I’m not sure which.”
“Maybe food will reinforce your thinking capacity.”
“Sounds great!” He jumped to his feet.
“Don’t expect too much,” she warned inhospitably as she led him into the dining alcove adjacent to the kitchen. “I didn’t know I was having company tonight,” she tacked on for extra measure.
She was yanked to a stop from behind when his hand dug into the waistband of her jeans and gripped it hard. He hauled her back against his chest and placed his mouth directly on her ear. “I’ll make you glad you’ve got company tonight,” he whispered seductively.
She jerked herself free and huffily pulled on the bottom of her sweater in a vain effort to regain her dignity. Her face worked with indignation. Her chest rose and fell. By the time she had thought of something to say, he was already biting into his first sandwich.
He managed to down two sandwiches, a package of potato chips, numerous pickles and olives, and six cookies in the time Leigh had eaten half of her sandwich. She had been alternating her bites with those she was feeding Sarah.
“Why don’t you let me finish with her while you eat,” Chad said.
“No thank you,” she replied coldly.
“I’ve been watching. I think I can handle it.” Her hand was relieved of the spoon, and Leigh knew, if she had never known before, that Chad Dillon didn’t take no for an answer.
He did amazingly well. Only one blob of strained beets fell victim to Sarah’s flailing fist and plopped on the instep of his boot. “I don’t blame you one bit, Sarah,” he said good-naturedly, wiping up the crimson lump. “I wouldn’t want to eat it either.”
Leigh didn’t want him to be cute and funny and pleasant. It would have been much simpler if he’d cursed the baby and the beets. If he’d lashed out at them both. She didn’t want it to feel so right to have him in her kitchen, underfoot, and getting in her way when she began putting things away. Why did Sarah have to gurgle at him affectionately and bless him with the laugh she had just learned to make? Irrationally she resented Sarah’s affection for him.
“Well, back to work,” he said, handing Sarah to Leigh and heading toward the bedroom and the baby bed. Sarah whined plaintively.
“Traitor,” Leigh mumbled as she carried the infant into her own bedroom to prepare her for bed.
Nothing’s changed just because he’s being nice to you, Leigh cautioned herself. He’s here tonight. But tomorrow? Next week, when he’s called to anywhere in the world to fight a fire and doesn’t know when he’ll be back? Can you live with that again, Leigh? She knew the answer.
Half an hour later, coming out of her bedroom, she glanced across the hallway. “I can’t believe it,” she exclaimed from the doorway.
From his position on the floor, Chad turned to look back at her. “All done except for right here.” He made one more adjustment with the screwdriver, then stood, stretching his powerful back muscles. “Cross your fingers.”
He tried the lever that lowered or raised one side of the crib and stared at it in amazement when it slid up and down. “Well, I’ll be damned. It works,” he laughed.
“Now all this room needs is the baby,” Leigh said.
He looked at the Jenny Lind crib, the rocking chair with its padded seat and back cushions, the curtains at the window and the Raggedy Ann and Andy wall figures Leigh had painstakingly painted. “I think you’re right. Where is she?”
“For tonight, I left her where she is.”
“Are you sure you want to move her out of your room?” he asked intuitively.
“No,” she admitted. “I hate sleeping alo” Her eyes flew to his to see if he had caught her blooper. He had. In two giant steps he was in front of her, clasping her shoulders with hands made of iron.
“You don’t have to sleep alone, Leigh. Not tonight. Not ever again.”
His arms closed around her, folding her in the embrace that posed the greatest threat to her and yet conversely made her feel the safest. His lips pressed against hers. Stubbornly, self-defensively, she held herself rigid, shaking her head, her teeth clenched.
Her resistance didn’t curb his determination. His tongue glided along her lips, and when she still didn’t relent, his hand slipped under her sweater. Boldly he rubbed against her nipple with his knuckles until it contracted. Her mouth opened involuntarily, to emit a sharp, ecstatic cry, and he took full advantage.
He captured her mouth with his in a kiss that demonstrated how much they wanted, needed, each other. With exploring fingers he found the lacy edge of her bra cup and peeled it down. His fingers adored her as they examined, measured, loved.
“You want me as much as I want you, Leigh. Dammit, I know you do,” he rasped in her ear. His tongue laved her earlobe, then caught it between his teeth and worried it gently. She shivered, a sigh of defeat whispering past her lips. Mercifully he came back to her mouth. He sipped at her lips lazily until she thought she’d die if she couldn’t have more of him.
She never remembered wrapping her arms around him, arching against him, moving over him in such a way that he couldn’t fail to know her meaning. Consciousness didn’t surface until she felt the hard pressure of his body seeking relief by thrusting against hers. And by then it was too late. Her soul belonged to her senses. She leaned against the hand covering her breast. Her nipple was like a pebble in the center of his palm. It rotated over her with a passion-inducing massage.
His tongue sank voluptuously into the warm, liquid hollow of her mouth and moved with a meter that matched the throbbing of their synchronized heartbeats. Her own tongue responded, meeting his with equal fervor.
He unclasped the front fastener of her bra and the full glory of her breasts was his to admire. She pulled the long shirttail out of his waistband and slid her hands under it to caress the hard, smooth muscles of his back. Dainty fingers climbed the column of ribs to tangle in the net of hair that matted his chest.
“God, Leigh, I’ve got to love you.” His hands were at her shoulders, urging her down onto the carpet. But he was met with a rigid resistance as hard as marble.
Bugles blaring disaster sounded in her brain. Alarm bells went off in a cacophonous series. To Leigh, sex was commitment. Once she had loved him, she’d never be able to let him go. And she couldn’t have him in her life, not unless she could have him completely.