Claiming His Baby. Rebecca Winters

I heard tonight. Music has been known to tame the wild beast.”

      “I wouldn’t go so far as to call you a wild beast.”

      One black brow quirked. “If I told you some of the thoughts that have passed through my mind since your performance, you’d be forced to take those words back.”

      A puzzled look crossed over her expressive face. “I don’t understand.”

      “It’s my way of saying that I’m attracted to you. To be frank, attracted is a very mild word. If I were being totally honest, I would tell you that I’d like to take you away to some isolated haven where I could make love to you for weeks on end.”

      For once the telltale blush didn’t appear. Quite the opposite in fact. Slowly she turned away from him without saying anything. Anticipating her instinct to flee from a predator, he moved directly behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, preventing her from leaving the room altogether.

      He could feel her tremble. “I’ve shocked you, Heather. I’m sorry.”

      There was a long silence. “No, you’re not,” she whispered at last.

      At her candor, he sucked in his breath. “You’re right. I’m not.”

      Suppressing the urge to slide his arms around her waist and draw the voluptuous warmth of her body against his, he removed his hands and stepped away.

      “Whether you believe me or not, I’ve never said that to another woman. Not on a first meeting or otherwise.” He raked a hand through his hair. “This seems to be a night for honesty on both our parts.”

      His comment brought her blond head around. The stunned look on her lovely face let him know she was equally aware of the powerful chemistry between them.

      “How long are you going to be in Salt Lake?”

      “For two more days. When are you returning to New York?”

      She smoothed a silky strand of hair away from her heated cheek. “Noon tomorrow.”

      He shifted his weight. “The timing couldn’t be worse.”

      Their gazes locked. To her credit, she didn’t try to pretend that she’d misunderstood. “You’re flying back to Argentina?”

      “Yes.”

      “To the bush.”

      “That’s where I live and head a small hospital.”

      “Were you born there?”

      “No. Buenos Aires.”

      Her chest rose and fell sharply. “What is it really like?”

      Raul took his time answering. “It’s a godforsaken wilderness of disease, heat and humidity.”

      “But you love it,” she murmured.

      He nodded. “The same way you love the piano.”

      There was a perceptible hardening of her delicate jaw. “The two aren’t comparable.”

      Folding his arms he said, “I think they are. Music is your life. The bush is mine.”

      Raul wasn’t destined to hear her response because Evan walked in on them.

      “It looks as if you two are already acquainted.” He glanced first at Raul, then Heather. “Your dad just pulled up in the driveway. Phyllis sent me to tell you she has a postmidnight snack waiting in the dining room.”

      “I’m glad he’s back. I’ll go help her put everything on.” She left the room in a hurry. Raul followed Evan out of the study, but his eyes remained on her retreating figure.

      In the hallway Evan introduced Raul to Heather’s father. One glance at John Sanders and Raul realized he’d bequeathed his good looks and coloring to his daughter. It was Heather’s mother who had endowed her with such an amazing musical talent.

      The three men moved through the house to the kitchen. Phyllis had prepared a veritable feast of salads, cold cuts and French bread. Evan told everyone to be seated. Soon they were helping themselves to the delicious food.

      “What are your plans after you return to New York?” Raul watched Heather over the rim of his coffee cup, waiting for the answer to the question that had been burning him alive.

      “She’s scheduled to go on tour,” John spoke up unexpectedly.

      Phyllis eyed Raul. “It’s a shame she can’t stay home for a while and play on the new concert grand she was given as her prize for winning the Bacchauer.”

      “That sounds like the perfect gift for you, Heather.”

      She put down her fork. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to enjoy it for a long time.”

      Her father frowned. “Why ever not? I plan to ship it to New York.”

      “I’m leaving it at home.”

      “Nonsense.

      “Daddy—I already told you I’m giving you that piano in honor of all you and mother did for me. The Knabe in New York serves me perfectly well when I’m there. Have you forgotten I’ll be staying with Franz at his summer home to get ready for the tour?”

      “Who’s Franz?” Raul wanted to know, experiencing an irrational dislike of any man who would be on such an intimate basis with her.

      “My teacher.”

      “Where does he live?”

      “In Vienna. I’ll be flying there next week.”

      The need to do something physical with his negative energy had Raul reaching for another piece of bread.

      “Franz has arranged for her concert tour,” John revealed with visible pride. “So far he’s lined up London, Brussels, Paris, Rom—”

      “R-Rome’s not confirmed yet,” Heather stammered before pushing herself away from the table. “Excuse me for a minute please.” As she disappeared into the kitchen, Raul saw John flash Phyllis a bewildered look.

      “What was that all about?”

      “She was so tired after the performance, she literally collapsed on the couch. But I admit she’s not reacting in her normal way.

      “I noticed that, too.” Evan wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “I guess we’ll never understand the kind of pressure she’s been under.” Suddenly his gaze found Raul’s. “She reminds me of someone with a mild case of shock.”

      No doubt Evan had felt the tension in the study when he’d walked in on the two of them a little while ago. With that inquiring mind of his, it was only natural he would speculate over what had gone on between Heather and his newly arrived houseguest in his absence.

      Raul could have enlightened everyone about her mental state. He’d been deeply disturbed by their encounter and suffered the same reaction, but could do nothing about it. She was leaving for the East Coast in less than ten hours. By next week she would be in Austria. Dios.

      “Phyllis? I can’t thank you enough for watching out for Heather, let alone preparing this wonderful meal. But now it’s late for everyone, and I need to take my daughter home if she’s going to get any more sleep and still make it to the airport on time.”

      If Raul were a wise man, he would avoid temptation by saying good-night to Dr. Sanders, then plead fatigue and disappear upstairs. But he’d never felt less like sleeping.

      In all honesty, he’d never felt so out of control in his life. It was a feeling totally foreign to him.

      Gathering some of the dishes, he headed for the kitchen where he found Heather at the sink swallowing a couple of painkillers with a glass of water.

      When he put the plates on the counter, their eyes met in a long, unsmiling regard.

      “Your