Expecting His Baby. Sandra Field

couldn’t unscrew the lid with one hand.

      Judd said, “Here, let me,” and took it from her. In utter fascination she watched the play of muscles in his wrist as his lean fingers undid the jar. “Where’s the grinder?” he asked.

      This was all so domesticated, she thought wildly. As though they were married. “In the cupboard by the sink. Ignore the muddle.”

      As he opened the cupboard, two cookie sheets clattered to the floor. “You live as dangerously at home as you do at work,” Judd said, and fished out the grinder.

      She blurted, “What’s the favor, Judd?”

      “Coffee first.”

      With bad grace Lise hauled out the pot, shoved in a filter and located mugs, cream and sugar. “You sure like getting your own way.”

      “It’s how you get to the top—knowing what you want and going after it.”

      “Judd Harwood’s Philosophy of Life?”

      Standing very close to her, yet not touching her, Judd said, “You’ve got a problem with that?”

      “What happens to the people you climb over on the way up?”

      “You see me as a real monster, don’t you?” He grabbed the pot, poured water in it and plugged it in. “The favor’s this. Emmy’s having nightmares. About the fire. She wakes up screaming that someone in a mask is coming after her. I thought if she could meet you, it might help.”

      Lise said slowly, “I was wearing an oxygen mask, because of the smoke. And our clothes are very bulky. So I must have looked pretty scary.”

      “Would you come to the house, Lise?” Judd raked his fingers through his hair. “I know it’s asking a lot—using your spare time for something related to work. I just can’t stand hearing her scream like that in the middle of the night.”

      His voice was rough with emotion. And if he was faking that, she was a monkey’s uncle. Knowing she had no choice, knowing simultaneously that she was taking a huge risk, far bigger than when she’d blundered her way to the attic, Lise said, “Yes, I’ll come.”

      “You will?”

      “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

      “I wondered.”

      “I’m not a monster, Judd. When do you want me to come—today?”

      “The sooner the better. She gets home from school around three-thirty.”

      “Then I’ll arrive at four.”

      “That’s astonishingly generous of you.”

      His smile filled her with a mixture of feelings she couldn’t possibly have analyzed. She shifted uncomfortably. “No, it’s not. She’s a child, Judd, and I know about—well, never mind.”

      “Your parents died in a fire, didn’t they?”

      A muscle twitched in her jaw. “I’ve said I’ll come. Don’t push your luck.”

      “I’ll send a car for you.”

      “I’ll get a cab.”

      “Is independence your middle name?”

      “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said mockingly, and reached up in the cupboard for a couple of mugs. But at the same time Judd stepped closer. Her hand brushed his arm, the contact shivering through her. Then, with one finger, he traced her cheekbone to her hairline, tugging gently on a loose red curl, his every movement etched into her skin. “You’re an enigma to me, you know that?” he said huskily.

      He was near enough that she could see the small dark flecks in his irises; his closeness seemed to penetrate all her defences, leaving her exposed and vulnerable in a way she hated. She tried to pull back, but somehow his other arm was around her waist, warm and heavy against her hip. Her heart was hammering in her rib cage, a staccato rhythm that further disoriented her. He drew her closer, his gaze pinioning her. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to run. Resting one hand on his chest, Lise tried to push back; but the heat of his body seeped through his cotton shirt, burning her fingers. Heat, the tautness of muscle and bone, and the hard pounding of his heart…she fought for control, for common sense and caution, and all the while was losing herself in the deep pools of his eyes. Then Judd lowered his head and with a thrill of mingled terror and joy Lise knew he was going to kiss her.

      She tried once more to extricate herself, pushing back against his encircling arm. “Judd, don’t,” she gasped. “Please—don’t.”

      His answer was to find her mouth with his own, closing off her words with his lips. And at the first touch Lise was lost, for fantasy had fused with reality, and reality was the passionate warmth of a man’s mouth sealed to her own, seeking her response, demanding it. Her good arm slid up his chest, her fingers burying themselves in the silky dark hair at his nape. Her body swayed into his, soft and pliant. She parted her lips to the urgency of his tongue, welcoming its invasion; he pulled her against his chest as his kiss deepened. Raw hunger blossomed within her, hunger such as she’d never known before. It did away with constraint, made nonsense of caution. Blind with need, she dug her fingers into his scalp and felt the hardness of his erection against her belly.

      The shock rippled through her. She heard him groan her name in between a storm of brief, fierce kisses on her lips, her cheeks, her closed eyelids. As though he were exploring her, she thought dimly, as a mariner would explore the inlets, coves and shores of a newly discovered land. Her breasts were soft to his chest, and the turmoil of desire that pervaded her whole body was like a conflagration. She didn’t want to fight it. She wanted to go with it, follow into whatever dangers the flames might lead her.

      Break all the rules. As Dave so often accused her of doing.

      Like a dash of cold water, the image of Dave’s pleasant face thrust itself between her and Judd. She’d sometimes wondered if Dave was falling in love with her; certainly he was her best friend, a man she’d worked with and knew through and through, as only those who work in constant danger can know one another. But Judd…Judd was her enemy. What was she thinking of to kiss him this way, so wantonly? So cheaply?

      With a whimper of pure distress, Lise shoved hard against Judd’s chest. Like a knife wound, agony ripped its way along her right arm to her shoulder. She cried out with pain, turning her face away from him, involuntary tears filling her eyes.

      “Lise—what’s the matter?”

      “Let go of me,” she said raggedly. “Just let go!”

      “For God’s sake, don’t cry,” he said hoarsely.

      “Judd, let me go!”

      As he released her, she sagged against the edge of the counter, her breath sobbing in her throat, and said the first thing that came into her head. “You didn’t have to kiss me like that—I’d already agreed to go and see Emmy.”

      “You think I kissed you as a kind of insurance policy?” he snarled. “Is that what you think?”

      “What else am I supposed to think?”

      “I kissed you because I wanted to! Because you’re utterly beautiful and you’ve got a temper like a wildcat and you’re courageous and generous. Because I craved to taste your mouth and touch your skin. To tangle my fingers in your hair.”

      Lise’s cheeks flared scarlet. Judd was telling the truth, she thought faintly. Every word he’d just said was the simple truth. Or the not so simple truth. “You—you can’t do that,” she stammered. “You’re the man who was married to my cousin. I don’t like you, and we live in totally different environments—we’re worlds apart in every way that matters. Yes, I’ll come and see Emmy this afternoon. But that’s it. No more contact. Ever.”

      “Do you respond to Dave the way you just responded to me?”

      “That’s