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“In fact, I usually have problems with the girls even if I leave them with someone with whom they are acquainted.
She shrugged. “Surely they’ve done well with Melba. She must be used to their routines by now.”
“Yes, but even when she visits, they won’t go to bed as easily as you’ve said. If Melba manages to convince them to sleep, they wake up as soon as they hear the car in the garage.”
“Like I said, maybe they were tired out. They didn’t give me a bit of trouble all night.”
One of his brows lifted. “Really?”
He seemed so surprised that Cara asked, “Were you expecting a riot?”
He took a deep breath and seemed to consider his words. “Frankly, judging from past babysitting experiences, I was expecting crying, screaming and tantrums that would continue unabated for hours on end.”
Cara couldn’t help quipping, “From the children or their baby-sitter?”
His lips tugged in the faintest hint of a grin—one that made her breath catch in her throat.
“Both, actually.”
“Why? They seem like perfect angels to me.”
“Then they were definitely on their best behavior.” His eyes narrowed and she felt him studying her. Her heart knocked against her ribs when she wondered what he saw there. Could some hint of the shock she’d experienced still linger on her face despite her efforts to remain calm?
Ross’s gaze was intent but not suspicious. Instead, he looked at her the way that…
The way that a man looked at a woman when he was interested.
No. Cara immediately pushed the idea aside. She was overreacting, that was all. Her thoughts and her emotions were off-kilter. She was confused and unsettled.
So why was she lingering when the time had come for her to leave?
“I…I should go now,” she said. “I’m sure you’ve had a long day.”
Ross offered her a curt nod and tugged at his tie, making her overtly conscious of the lean strength of his fingers and the slight dusting of hair on the backs of his hands.
“It has been a long day, but I tend to get a little wired after one of these evenings. Will you join me for some coffee?”
No. Absolutely not.
But even as the inner voice warned her, she was so startled by the invitation that she found herself saying instead, “Sure.”
“Good.”
He dragged the tie free from his collar and released the top button at his collar. Then a second button. A third.
Cara found her gaze latching on to that vee of flesh exposed against the crisp white of his dress shirt. He really was a good-looking man.
Perhaps a little too good-looking.
Cara didn’t trust that quality in a man, either. Elliot had been male-model handsome, but she had discovered soon enough that the outer beauty camouflaged a weak character.
So why, after vowing to herself that she wouldn’t be caught in the same trap again, did she feel the faint stirrings of attraction?
No. Absolutely not! She didn’t find him in the least bit attractive.
But even as she insisted as much to herself, a tingling awareness spread through her veins as he extended a hand toward her.
“I’ll carry that for you.”
Unconsciously Cara clutched the duffel bag even more securely—as if it were a shield to protect her from…
From what?
There was nothing about Ross Gifford’s appearance or manner to make her feel threatened. In fact, the sadness that cloaked his features made her feel as if she should be doing something for him rather than for herself.
But as she admitted the twinge of concern, she knew that she couldn’t give in to such emotions. She couldn’t dwell on her physical reaction to the man. She couldn’t afford that luxury. Such emotions would simply complicate the situation—and heaven only knew her current predicament was already untenable.
Since Ross was still waiting, she reluctantly handed him the duffel bag, all the while wishing she hadn’t agreed to stay for coffee. She was playing with fire and had no doubts that she would get burned.
Ross led the way through the big, silent house, offering Cara glimpses of rooms that were lushly decorated but curiously devoid of color. At long last they reached the kitchen with its white cabinets, pale tile and pale marble counters.
Who was responsible for the absence of color in the house? Was it a designer’s decision or had Ross made the choice?
“Have a seat,” Ross said, gesturing to a pair of stools drawn up to an ornate center island.
“Decaf or regular coffee,” he asked.
“Decaf.”
Ross shrugged out of his jacket and laid it over a chair. As he moved to prepare the coffee, her gaze immediately latched on to the crisp starched shirt. The long evening had rumpled the fabric at his back.
Cara didn’t know why, but the sight was oddly intimate and exciting. Inexplicably Cara found herself wondering who starched those shirts, ironed them and hung them in his closet. A cleaning service? A housekeeper? Stibbs?
Or a woman who had already begun to heal his grieving heart?
“So…you’re a regular with the Mom Squad?”
She jumped, her gaze bouncing away from Ross when he suddenly turned and caught her staring.
“Yes. I’m one of the founding partners.”
One of his brows rose. He had dark eyes, expressive eyes, and even when he was apparently relaxed, they were filled with such a poignant sadness that Cara wanted to take him into her arms.
Stop it! The man isn’t a wounded bird to bring home and keep warm in a shoebox.
But hadn’t she always had a soft heart for wounded animals and strays? Isn’t that how she’d found herself marrying her first husband? She’d met Elliot when he’d been on the rebound from a three-year relationship, and she’d been determined to make him smile again.
Little had she known…
“If you’re one of the founding partners of the Mom Squad, why are you still taking baby-sitting jobs?” Ross asked, bringing her thoughts abruptly back to the present.
Not wanting to wallow in the past, Cara concentrated on the man in front of her instead. There was a simple grace to his movements as he measured the grounds and water into a gleaming stainless steel coffeemaker. Then he reached into an overhead cabinet for mugs. She watched transfixed as his shirt pulled taut, revealing the muscular outlines of his back.
Ross Gifford was certainly fit. Healthy.
Beautiful.
Cara forced herself to look away. “I’m the company accountant, but I fill in when there’s a need.”
“Your husband doesn’t object to the late nights?”
“My husband?” Briefly, she thought of Elliot. Elliot definitely would have complained about the late hours if she hadn’t left their relationship long before the Mom Squad was formed.
“You mentioned you had twin girls.”
She stared at him blankly, her pulse knocking at her throat, then realized that she had offered the information before she’d seen Ross’s children.
He doesn’t know anything. Keep your cool.
“Yes. They’re…three.” The information was offered carefully, slowly. She watched Ross for a hint of unease but there was no reaction—not that she should have expected one.
“Boys or girls?”
Her heart thumped again.
“Girls.”
“Twins can be a handful, can’t they?”
She nodded. “They’re a challenge at times, especially for a new mom.”
He leaned his hips against the counter. “New mom?”
“The children are…were my brother’s, actually. But he was killed a year ago. Since then the girls have lived with me.”
For a moment the room thrummed with the reminder that life could be changed in a heartbeat. Then Ross straightened and reached into cupboards again, removing sugar and spoons, then grabbed a carton of cream from the refrigerator.
“So you’re a single mom?”
Now why did it seem as if he’d put a slight emphasis on the word single?
“Yes. I was married once. Briefly.” Enough. He doesn’t need to know any of this. He’s merely making polite conversation. “What happened?”
She shrugged, hoping that she didn’t appear as vulnerable and exposed as she felt.
“My husband…my ex-husband and I grew apart.”
The simple reply was an understatement. Elliot Wells was charismatic, charming and driven. As CEO of a fast-track marketing firm, he had dazzled her with his sophistication and discipline. He’d wooed her with wildly romantic rendezvous, expensive gifts and just the right amount of flattery and adoration.
But soon after marrying him, Cara had discovered that Elliot was a control freak who had married her because she made an excellent “trophy wife.” She was beautiful and biddable—the perfect requirements in Elliot’s estimation. Little had she known that Elliot kept a mistress on the side—someone who was passionate and spontaneous but not an acceptable business hostess.
“I take it the divorce wasn’t amicable.”
She grimaced. “How can you tell?”
“The long silence speaks volumes, I’m afraid.”
“As I said, we grew apart. Soon we didn’t have the same goals for the future. Elliot wanted to make as much money in as little time as possible.”
“And what did you want?”
She didn’t even have to think. “Happiness.”
“Have you found it?”
Her smile was quick. “Yes. In a pair of irascible twins.”
Ross filled their mugs with coffee and handed her one. Then he took a seat on the nearest stool.
She was immediately conscious of the firm musculature revealed beneath the fine fabric of his trousers. She could all but feel the heat of his body seeping into her own.
Cara took a quick sip of coffee, then gulped and began to cough when it burned her tongue.
“It’s hot,” Ross offered too late.
She laughed, then coughed again. Ross smiled—briefly, ever so briefly, but long enough for his amusement to momentarily chase away the shadows in his eyes. And at that moment she saw a glimpse of just how devastatingly handsome this man could be when he wasn’t so sober.
Setting his own mug on the counter, Ross pounded her obligingly on the back. In an instant the frivolity of the moment faded away leaving a potent awareness.
Without warning, Cara felt his fingers still against her spine, then spread wide over her shoulders. Before she could fully prepare herself, there was a slight pressure against her spine and he drew her irresistibly toward him.
Inch by inch. Heartbeat by heartbeat. Closer and closer until…
Cara knew he meant to kiss her, and her brain whispered a word of warning. But suddenly she didn’t care. She didn’t care that she was opening herself to heartache. She didn’t care that her relationship to this man was doomed from the very beginning. All that mattered was this instant.
This kiss.
Ross closed the last few inches with aching slowness. At long last his mouth settled upon hers, questioningly at first, then with greater strength and assurance.
He feels so good, so strong, so…male.
In an instant her hunger ignited in a flashpoint of need. Ross returned in kind until any emotional restraints they might offer were lost as they clung to each other, passion flaring white-hot and unexpected.
Cara’s arms swept around his shoulders, and she leaned close to the man, allowing him to press her close to the hard strength of his chest. A part of her knew that what she was doing was dangerous. She was kissing a man who might someday make a claim on one of the twins. But with his arms around her, she couldn’t think that far. She was consumed with a need like nothing she had ever felt before. And the pleasure…sweet heaven, she had never felt such pleasure in Elliot’s arms! Ross knew just how to hold her, caress her, kiss her, to make her feel cherished and desirable, beautiful and seductive.
And she hadn’t felt that way in a very long time. Not since returning home early from a dinner with her friends to discover her husband was making love to another woman in the same bed that she’d shared with him only the night before.
Suddenly starving for air, the two of them broke apart. But the need thrummed between them even more potently, swamping whatever restraints they might have cared to impose.
Cara had never experienced anything like this before. She was normally so careful around men. After her divorce she’d rarely dated—and that had been by her own choosing.
But as she looked into the dark depths of Ross’s eyes, she was lost again. When he reached for her, she didn’t resist. This time their embrace was slow and lingering and infinitely sensual. Her hands spread wide over his back, sweeping low to tug the hem of his shirt free, then explore the bare flesh beneath. His hissing inhalation told her that he must have felt the same jolt of electricity that coursed through her fingertips the moment she’d grazed the sensitive skin. The very thought that she could incite such a reaction filled her with an even hotter passion.
“We’ve got to stop,” he rasped against her throat. But rather than end the embrace, he trailed his tongue along a particularly sensitive nerve, causing her to gasp.
This time it was her turn to pull him to her for a kiss. Again, she was struck by the differences between Elliot and this near stranger. Elliot had been a sloppy kisser—too wet, too intrusive. But Ross…
Ross knew just when to advance, to retreat. When to stroke, when to tease.
She moaned deep in her throat, slowly losing her touch with reality. There was only this man. This kiss.
Without warning, a high-pitched bleeping noise split the silence. The two of them sprang apart as if a shot had rung through the room.
It took a moment for Cara to realize the sound was coming from her duffel bag.
“My phone,” she gasped, dodging toward the bag. The noise increased as she removed the receiver from its pocket and punched the send button.
“Yes?”
Did she really sound that breathless? That out of control?
“Cara? Are you all right?”
Polly.
“Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”
“You sound strained. Did something happen when Ross came home? Did he find out there was a problem?”
Cara automatically smoothed her hair, even though Polly couldn’t possibly see her. “No. I’m…I’m still here.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, I just stayed for coffee, that’s all.”
“You did what?” Polly’s tone was incredulous.
Suddenly Cara felt like a teenager who’d broken curfew. If Polly was this shocked that Cara had stayed for coffee, imagine her reaction if she knew the full details. “I should be home in about ten minutes.”
“You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, yes. I’ll see you soon.”
Cara terminated the call before Polly’s concern communicated itself through the slight noises that Ross must be able to hear.
“Trouble?”
“No. Just the…ah…baby-sitter.”
“You hired a baby-sitter so that you could come tend my kids?”
“Not exactly. One of my partners was watching them. She thought I would be back by now.”
“Ah.”
The silence pulsed between them, fraught with the memories of the passionate embrace they had just shared.
Staring at Ross, she saw her own discomfort reflected in his eyes. They had just shared a terribly intimate embrace and yet they were strangers. Complete and total strangers?
So what did they do now? What were they supposed to say to each other?
Cara was the first to speak. “I, uh…I’ve got to go.”
So why wasn’t she moving?
Ross nodded, his eyes never leaving her face. “Sure. I understand. After all, I know all about getting back in time to relieve the sitter.” His lips twitched in something akin to chagrin. The expression had a little-boy charm that tugged at her heart. Before grief had tainted this man’s expression, he must have been devastating. If a slight twitch of his lips had the ability to knock at her defenses, what would a full-blown smile do?
Just as quickly as the smile had appeared, it disappeared again. He grew instantly serious, and she regretted the hint of gentleness. Before she could reconcile herself to the transformation, Ross was once again the epitome of a powerful businessman. In a heartbeat, the approachable person who had kissed her so spontaneously disappeared so completely, she might have imagined the interlude if her body didn’t still tremble with the aftereffects.
“Listen…” Ross slid a hand into the pocket of his trousers and stared down at the toe of his shoe. “I want you to know I don’t usually go around…kissing my baby-sitters.”
She hitched the duffel bag over her shoulder, her own cheeks growing hot. “Of course not, and I don’t—”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
Again the room shimmered in a heavy silence.
“Well,” she whispered. “I’ve got to go.”
He gently lifted the bag, relieving her of its weight. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
As they made their way to the front of the house, Cara was even more conscious of Ross beside her—and the awareness frightened her.
What was wrong with her? She’d sworn off men after Elliot. What was it about this particular male that urged her to abandon all those heartfelt promises? Had she totally lost her mind? Why couldn’t she remember everything that was at stake as soon as Ross discovered the truth about their children?
Needing something to distract her from her troubling behavior and the uncertainty of the future, Cara asked, “So what do you do, Ross? For a living, I mean.”
“I’m a lawyer.”
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