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Her thoughts drifted immediately to Bryce.
She cocked a look at the sleeping baby in her arms, then stood and carried Carolina to her crib. Laying her down, she tried to remember if at this age they slept on their stomach or back, then laid Carolina on her tummy. Just before she did, Carolina opened her eyes, staring at her so trustingly, and Ciara thought suddenly that nothing she did in her life, nothing for her country, for the CIA, was more important than what she was doing right now. For this child. She stroked her back and the baby’s eyes drifted closed.
How much tenderness had this little girl missed because she didn’t have a mother? Bryce had to be both mother and father and Ciara remembered the different relationships she’d had with her parents. Her mom had been her role model, and made Ciara feel special, as if they shared a secret that men took years to understand. Ciara’s mother had given her pretty things and taught her to take pride in her appearance for herself, not for anyone who might happen to notice. Ciara tried to pass that to Cassie. Yet her dad had been the one who let her hang with her brothers, who won the argument with her mother when she wanted to play soccer. Dad had kept telling her there was nothing she couldn’t do. He’d pushed her to excel, to learn more than one language and make the grade to join the CIA.
Lord she missed them. But they were dead now, killed in a jet crash over Scotland. She hadn’t been able to attend their funeral because she was stuck somewhere in Asia, hiding in a warehouse surveying gunrunners. And somehow, over the years, she’d lost the rest of her family, too. It was a hard fact to swallow, but Ciara admitted silently that though her parents were taken from her, she’d allowed her brothers and sister to fade from her life. Because of her career. Shame rippled through her along with a surprisingly sharp stab of homesickness.
The baby cooed in her sleep, wiggling under the thin blanket, and something hard wrenched in Ciara’s chest. For some reason, she couldn’t leave the baby just yet. Not alone. She was so little.
And for the first time in a long time, someone truly innocent, needed her.
Bryce stood in the doorway, studying Ciara. He tried not to notice how beautiful she looked there bent over his baby’s crib, rubbing Carolina’s back, watching her sleep. Seeing her there struck a chord in him and twisted his insides. She looked so at ease and though Carolina had known the touch of Bryce’s mother and sister, it seemed that a perfect stranger was more soothing than either of them. Instantly he thought of Diana.
Would she approve?
Not if she knew he and Ciara had spent a night together. He’d never told anyone about that night, keeping it private, for himself alone. Telling Diana would have been mean and unnecessary. And caused more problems because she’d been possessive from the start, wanting him to quit the Secret Service for her and their unborn child. Married only a month, and seeing no way around it and feeling equally responsible, he had. Though he resented it at the time, and constantly being around her likely made things worse between them, he didn’t resent leaving the service anymore. Not since his daughter had filled his life and his heart.
“She’s so beautiful,” Ciara said into the silence, startling him, and Bryce realized she’d known he was there all this time.
“Thank you.” He watched her give the blankets a last tuck, then straighten and walk toward him. The tender look she gave his daughter still on her features.
He stared, absorbing it.
“How long have you been caring for her alone?”
“Other than when she was first born, a week.”
“How do you get your work done?” she asked, admiration coloring her voice.
“I don’t. I’m way behind. That’s why I hired Wife Incorporated.”
Ciara shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans when she really wanted to touch him, run her hands over his taut muscled chest. “And here you get me.”
Bryce saw the flicker of reservation in her eyes and wondered over it when she seemed so confident earlier. Trusting her seemed further away than he first thought. “Carolina seems to like you.”
Ciara gazed up at him, her body sensing his, that current shooting up from her heels. “She’s great.”
Bryce experienced the same heady heat that drew him to Ciara that night in Hong Kong. She was inches from him, in the doorway and knowing he shouldn’t, he lifted his hand to her face. Before he touched her, she stepped back, her tender expression vanished, replaced with an indifferent mask he already recognized.
His brow furrowed.
Her eyes were glacial, hard. Then she turned and walked down the hall.
Leaning on the door frame, Bryce watched her leave, thinking that no matter what they felt when they were near each other, there was a part of Ciara that was isolated, a woman hidden behind a wall. She might be gentle and tender with his daughter, but she wasn’t letting down her guard.
Bryce went back to his office and remained there most of the day. With music playing in his office, he didn’t hear any noise in the house and managed to catch up on the backlog of work. Yet when he glanced at his watch and realized how much time had passed and that he hadn’t heard his daughter or Ciara in a while, he shot out of the chair and rushed to the door.
How could he be so careless? He knew nothing about this woman. And he’d left her and his baby alone together for hours.
Panicked, he stopped short in the hall, glancing left and right. “Ciara?” Thoughts of accidents filled his tired mind.
“Yes,” she called from somewhere in the house. “In here.”
Only a little relieved, he demanded, “Where the hell is here?”
“Well, duh, in the kitchen.”
He nearly ran down the hall, his heart pounding and when he entered the room he froze. Carolina was tucked in her high chair, chasing cereal around her tray and stuffing as much as she could in her mouth, and Ciara was at the stove. For a second he just stared.
No one on this planet had a right to look that sexy in an apron.
And she’d changed into a tank top and cutoffs that had seen way better days, and were short as hell. They showed off every curve and for a moment, he let his gaze roam over her from head to bare toes. She moved efficiently, sautéing vegetables, checking something in the oven, then punching the timer on the microwave. Plus, glancing over at his daughter while she worked. It was as if she didn’t know he was in the room now. And here he was, like a stag scenting a doe. The fact made him see how long it had been since he’d had a woman. A little over a year. He’d been married in name only, since he and Diana had wed when she was two months pregnant and they’d stopped sleeping together when her pregnancy became difficult, and that happened at the end of her first trimester.
Good grief, it had been a long time.
But then, he hadn’t been interested in a woman until now.
And Ciara was the wrong one.
Shaking his head over his wildly racing thoughts, he went to his daughter, squatting to her level. “Did you have a nice nap, princess?”
Ciara glanced back over her shoulder smiling, trying to see only the father and not the man.
Carolina spit bubbles and offered him a Cheerio. He nibbled.
“How brave of you,” Ciara said, focusing on chopping vegetables and tossing them in a pan. “Accepting food from that grubby little hand.”
He kissed his daughter and straightened. “I’d do anything for her.”
“I know. You’re putting up with me for a nanny, aren’t you?”
“I wouldn’t have said it like that.”
“But you were thinking it.”
“Actually I was thinking that…”
She looked at him then, her brows drawn tight. “Go on, say it. We might as well be honest with each other from the start.”
He wasn’t going to mention that she was hiding damn near everything about herself from him already, and that was hardly honest. Instead he said, “I was thinking that you should put on more clothes.”
Her features tightened. “Don’t go there. Carolina and I were outside for a while and it’s hot.”
“Regardless, those,” he gestured to the short shorts, “leave little to the imagination.”
“Then force yourself to have less imagination, huh?” she said, pouring him a glass of tea, then placing it on the table before him.
“Kind of hard when I look at you and see you up against the wall, panting and wearing nothing but a strand of pearls.”
Ciara’s entire body clenched, her blood suddenly running very hot and fast.
She glanced his way briefly, flushing a little, and Bryce liked seeing it.
“That was a long time ago.” She returned her attention to the meal she was cooking.
“You said yourself you were the same woman.”
“I guess I lied.”
“What else are you lying about?”
Her gaze snapped to his. “What the hell does that mean?” Don’t get defensive, she warned herself. It will only add fuel to his suspicions.
“You’re not being honest about your past.”
She faced him and his gaze shifted to the knife in her hand. She put it down. “Want to open that door, Bryce? How about yours? Why did you leave the Secret Service?”
Old resentment reared. “I was tired of it.”
“Oh yeah, the travel, great hotels, short work hours. A real pleasure killer.”
“After I met my wife, yes.” The half lie stuck in his throat like glue. He’d still be in the service right now if he hadn’t met Diana.
Ciara felt unreasonably stung by that.
“And taking a bullet for someone who for the most part didn’t know I was alive, didn’t seem worth it after that.” Not worth leaving his unborn baby without a father, he thought. “What about your family?”
Good lord, he wasn’t getting the hint, was he? “I don’t have one, anymore.” In her line of work she’d had to cut all ties, yet for a second, the image of her brothers and her sister swept through her mind.
Bryce noticed the flash of pain in her eyes, the tightening of her features.
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