That's My Baby!. Vicki Lewis Thompson

rather do, strangle her or kiss that saucy mouth until she moaned. He did neither. “You’re blackmailing your parents, too, you know. Your dad wants to put a private detective on your trail so bad he can taste it, but your mother won’t let him because she thinks you’ll go away for good if he does.”

      “She’s right.”

      Turning her to face him, he grasped her other shoulder and barely stopped himself from giving her a shake. “Jess, what if this kidnapper gets ahold of you? What if he decides, after getting the ransom money, to just kill you? Have you thought of that?”

      She nodded. “That’s why I needed to talk to you and tell you about Elizabeth,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. “So everything would be okay for the baby.”

      The thought of something happening to Jess had the power to paralyze his mind, so he didn’t think about it for long. “Setting aside the issue of how the rest of us would fare in that event, let me emphasize that if you got yourself killed, it would not be okay for the baby.” Panic nibbled at him some more. “I’m a lousy candidate for a parent, and you know it.”

      “I don’t know it, but if you call my parents, we’ll never get a chance to find out. They’ll have Elizabeth behind the gates of Franklin Hall before you can say boo.”

      “Sounds like a plan to me.” Then he wouldn’t have to worry about the baby. He had a business in Colorado, after all. He could pay support, although the Franklins would probably scoff at the pittance the courts would ask of him.

      “And I’d have to go with her,” Jess said softly.

      Ah, there was the rub. The woman he loved would be safe but unhappy. And he would be…lost. Lost without hope of redemption.

      “You see, it has to be this way if you and I are to have any chance. If Elizabeth is to have any chance.”

      As he gazed into her eyes and saw the glimmer of hope there, his feelings of inadequacy threatened to swamp him. “I would botch the job of being Elizabeth’s father, Jess. We’ve been through all that, and you know how I feel about having kids of my own. I’ll admit that on the flight over I began thinking that maybe someday I could consider adopting an orphan from one of the refugee camps. But see, that would be different. The kid wouldn’t have that many options, and even having me as a parent would be better than nothing.”

      “Oh, Nat.” She moved in close and combed her fingers through his beard so she could cup his face in both hands.

      He loved her touch, and decided at that very moment that he wanted to shave so nothing interfered with the feel of her soft hands on his face.

      “I’ve never met your father,” she said, “but I know you’re nothing like him. You would never beat a child the way you were beaten, or belittle them until they felt worthless, the way your father did.”

      “You don’t know that. It’s the pattern I saw for eighteen years. Some of that behavior has to be lurking in me, waiting for the time when I have a kid, and that automatic conditioning kicks in.”

      Her gaze searched his. “Don’t you at least want to see her?” she asked gently.

      His stomach churned at the thought, but yes, he’d admit to a flicker of curiosity. “Maybe, from a distance.”

      Jess smiled. “How far a distance?”

      “One of those videophones would be about right.”

      She held his gaze. “I think she has your eyes.”

      That rocked him. All along he’d pictured her with woeful brown eyes, like the children he’d left in the camps. “Blue?”

      “They probably are by now. The color was still a little indistinct when I…when I left her at the ranch.” Her breath caught and her eyes began to glow with longing. “Oh, Nat, please. Let’s call the ranch and tell them we’re on our way. It’s been an eternity. Please. It’s still only ten there. They won’t be in bed. Let’s call them now.”

      One thing had become obvious—he wouldn’t in good conscience be able to shift this new and unwanted responsibility to Jess’s parents. Neither could he expect Sebastian to keep on taking the burden, although Nat wasn’t wild about heading out there to face this massive change in his life. He’d ten times rather hold up in the Waldorf for a few days and calm his fears by making endless love to Jess.

      But it looked as if he needed to take Jess to Colorado. “Okay. Yeah. We’ll do that.”

      “Oh, thank you!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a kiss right on his mouth.

      She might have meant it as a friendly gesture instead of an invitation, but it didn’t matter how she’d meant it. His body flipped to automatic pilot as he grabbed her and pulled her in tight. He couldn’t have kept his tongue out of her mouth for all the gold in Fort Knox.

      With a little whimper of delight, she molded herself against him the way only Jess could do. Her body dovetailed with his as no other woman’s body had ever done. It was as if they’d been carved from the same block of stone so that when they came together, the seam of separation disappeared.

      But she wasn’t stone—she was warm and pliant. When he pushed his hand into the invisible gap between them, she magically made way for him. He tugged at the sash of her bathrobe and the thick material loosened instantly, gaping open over the smooth curve of her breast.

      He was there in an instant, cupping the weight, almost out of his mind with the joy of caressing her silken breast again. He brushed the erect nipple with the pad of his thumb and she gasped against his mouth. She’d always been so sensitive to his slightest touch, which had made him feel like a god when he made love to her.

      Tonight her reaction seemed even more sensitive, and subtly different. Or maybe it was all in his mind. Once upon a time, he’d thought he knew every intimate detail about her. But in his absence she’d given birth to a child—his child. The knowledge made her body mysterious and exotic. He needed to reconnect with her, if only to convince himself that she was still knowable, still within his reach.

      He lifted his mouth a fraction from hers as he rubbed her nipple with his thumb. “Did you nurse her?” he murmured.

      Her breath blew warm on his lips. “Yes.”

      He traced her open mouth with his tongue. “Tell me how it was.”

      “Sweet.” Her breath quickened.

      He looked down at her upturned face, her auburn lashes lying against her freckled cheeks, her lips parted, her breathing uneven as he stroked her taut nipple. “So you liked it.” He was hard, so hard.

      Her eyes fluttered open, and her glance scorched his. “I loved it.”

      “I wish I’d been there.”

      “So do I.”

      Holding her gaze, he deliberately pushed aside the lapel of her robe. Lifting her breast in his hand, he leaned down, heart racing, and slowly drew her nipple into his mouth. She tasted like heaven. He closed his eyes in ecstasy.

      She sighed his name and tunneled her fingers through his hair to hold him against her breast.

      When he thought he might come apart from the pressure of wanting her, he lifted his head and gazed into her passion-dark eyes. “I’m taking you to bed.”

      “What about…the phone…call,” she whispered weakly.

      He scooped her into his arms and the robe fell away as he carried her to the bed and laid her on the quilted spread. His throat went dry at her beauty, and his vocal cords felt like the rusty hinge on an old screen door. His hand went to his belt buckle. “In the morning,” he said.