Booties And The Beast. Valerie Parv

muscles twist. Joel looked exactly how Sam had imagined his own son would look before he discovered that it would never happen, and his heart felt as if it was being crushed in a giant hand.

      Joel opened his mouth to protest. Instinctively Sam jiggled the baby up and down in his arms, and the child’s cry dropped to a whimper. “Hey now, she’ll be back in a minute,” Sam assured Joel. “We men can cope on our own for a short time, can’t we?”

      Sam’s serious tone caught Joel’s attention. The whimpers faded altogether and the baby fixed Sam with huge, luminous eyes. Then he reached for the top button of Sam’s shirt and tugged on it.

      Immediately Sam felt an answering tug deep inside, and his hold on the baby tightened as regret speared through him. He’d held babies before. His sister, Jessie, had two. But when they were born, Sam had still believed he would father children of his own someday. Now he knew it was impossible, and holding Joel heightened the aching sense of loss that was never far from Sam’s mind.

      “Not your fault, cute stuff,” Sam said, hearing his voice sound husky with emotion. “You’re just the sort of kid I always hoped I’d have.”

      Sam had Joel’s full attention. The baby hung onto Sam’s shirt and gave every sign of listening intently. “Yep, I wanted one just like you and one just like…” Sam caught himself about to say “your mother” and substituted, “…well, a little girl.”

      At the word “girl,” Joel made muttering noises. Sam felt a smile start. “Don’t like girls, huh? You’ll change your tune one day, when you meet that special lady you can’t live without. I thought I’d found her in my ex-wife, Christine,” he explained to the baby. Joel’s head bobbed as if he understood every word, although Sam knew he couldn’t possibly. “Not that we’re the best example. She was a cover model I met at my publishers’ Christmas party. ‘Course it doesn’t have to turn out the way it did for us,” Sam went on, wondering if he’d gone completely crazy. Why was he telling this to a baby, for goodness sake? But Joel made a good listener, and Sam’s monologue was keeping the baby calm, so he decided it didn’t matter what he said, as long as he used a soothing tone.

      “She said she didn’t mind that I couldn’t father children,” he went on in a monotone. “Even had her big shot doctor brother do the tests so we could keep the news in the family. Never did like me, her brother. Thought a writer wasn’t good enough for his sister. Medically speaking, he was right.”

      Joel smacked him in the chest. “Bab-bab.”

      “Yeah, pretty bad,” Sam agreed. “But then I can’t stand my ex’s brother either, so we’re even. But you don’t want to hear this. Heck, I don’t want to hear this.”

      “Hear what?” Haley asked, bounding up the steps. Under her arm she carried a woolly lamb toy. Joel’s eyes lit up at the sight of his plaything and he reached out.

      As she took the baby from him, Sam felt a twinge of remorse. “Men’s business,” he said gruffly, annoyed with himself for letting the baby get to him.

      He hadn’t been prepared for the way Haley made him feel, either. Watching her settle the child on one hip, Sam felt flames leap inside him.

      His sister, Jessie, claimed that the only good thing about being pregnant was the way her breasts filled out. Despite her recent motherhood, Haley’s breasts were still small, but they were in scale with the rest of her trim figure, Sam decided. She wore a wraparound skirt of Oriental-looking material in black and gold, with a black T-shirt that clung to her curves as if poured on. In her arms, the baby fisted a handful of the T-shirt and held on. Sam almost groaned aloud.

      Joining them on the steps, Dougal barked and the baby’s eyes widened. Haley bent down, allowing the dog to sniff the infant. “Friend, Dougal,” she said firmly. The dog’s tail bannered and he gave the baby’s hand a gentle lick. Joel gurgled with delight, a smile breaking out on his chubby face. He caught a handful of the dog’s fur and pulled, but Dougal seemed to sense that he wasn’t to respond and stood like a statue. Carefully, Haley untangled the baby’s hand and straightened. Dougal glued himself to her side as if he had every intention of staying there for the next two weeks.

      “Much more of that and he won’t want to know me,” Sam said, telling himself he wasn’t bothered by the dog’s apparent defection. Sure, he wasn’t. Any more than he was bothered by the Madonna-and-child image in front of him. Or the empty way his arms felt when Haley took the baby from him.

      She looked up and smiled, and the sun came out. “Dogs have plenty of affection to go around. I’m just glad that Joel isn’t scared of him.”

      Sam had promised himself he wouldn’t get involved with either Haley or her child, but would settle them in their quarters, brief her on what she was to do while he was away, then get the dickens out of here. Suddenly he felt a powerful urge to stick around. “Joel doesn’t look as if he’s scared of anything,” he said.

      “Thunderstorms,” she admitted, jiggling the baby on her hip. “You don’t like bad old storms, do you, pumpkin?”

      “He’s scared of storms?”

      She nodded. A thunderstorm had been raging the night Ellen passed away and Haley couldn’t help wondering if the baby associated storms with the loss of his mother. She told herself he was far too young and, anyway, most babies disliked loud noises, but she found the connection curious.

      Sam used the heavy case to wedge the front door open so she could carry the baby inside. As she passed him in the narrow opening, her hip brushed his. It was the slightest contact, nothing really, but awareness of him vibrated through her, leaving her breathless. This would have to stop. He was The Beast, remember? The baby in her arms ought to remind her, if she needed it.

      Sam followed her inside and put her possessions down on the polished parquet floor while he closed the door. “Joel isn’t the only one. I was scared of thunderstorms when I was a boy.”

      She knew her expression betrayed her surprise. He looked too overwhelmingly masculine and sure of himself to be scared of anything. “You were?”

      He nodded. “When I was four, lightning struck a tree outside my bedroom window, severing a branch that crashed into my room, missing my bed by inches. I hated storms for years afterwards.”

      The image of a terrified little boy lying in his bed while a storm raged around him filled her mind. Much as she hated to feel compassion for him, it was impossible not to. “Anyone would feel the same after that.”

      “I outgrew it. Joel probably will, too.”

      Suddenly she became aware of how close they were standing, almost within kissing distance, she thought, astonishing herself. How would it feel to have his generously proportioned mouth covering hers? Feathers of sensation whispered along her spine and she closed her eyes, the feel of his lips so palpable that her own parted in response.

      She opened her eyes in amazement. What was going on here? She was suddenly glad that the baby in her arms provided a tangible barrier between them. Sam was the last man in the world she should fantasize about kissing.

      She became aware that he was speaking to her. “I’ve put you in my room.”

      “You’ve what?”

      “Your room while I’m away,” he said, heading off her objection. “It has a separate dressing room large enough to make a nursery for Joel.”

      “Oh, thanks.” How much more foolish could one woman feel? For a minute she’d thought…She drove the idea away by reminding herself that she was here to do a job. Perhaps not the one that Sam had hired her to do, but a job nonetheless.

      If Sam suspected her real agenda, he wouldn’t offer her any hospitality, far less the use of his own room for herself and Joel, she knew. Reminding herself that Sam had left her no alternative if she was to obtain justice for Joel didn’t entirely appease her conscience. The sight of the baby’s angelic features helped Haley to harden her heart. Sam had not only rejected