Название | Christmas With The Single Dad |
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Автор произведения | Sarah Morgan |
Жанр | Короткие любовные романы |
Серия | Mills & Boon M&B |
Издательство | Короткие любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474097758 |
She glanced down at him and slowly the sparkle left her eyes, the generous smile faltered and disappeared. She pulled her hand free.
Disappointment flushed through him, and something darker and more insistent. He pushed up into a sitting position too. ‘Scared?’ he taunted, though he knew that was hardly fair.
She tilted her head back and took another swig of her beer. ‘How long is it since you’ve been with a woman?’
The question took him off guard. He scowled. ‘That’s none of your damn business.’
‘And yet you’re inviting me to share your bed and your body.’
‘And you’re going to refuse and turn me down.’ He could read her as well as it seemed she could read him.
‘Sleeping with me won’t prove you’re over Fran.’
He blinked, stiffened. What the hell …?
Her eyes flashed. ‘How about you answer your own question? If Fran turned up here tomorrow and wanted to give your marriage another try, what would you do?’
He reared back as if she’d struck him. ‘That’s not going to happen.’
‘That’s the exact same answer I could’ve given you about Brad.’
She rose. His heart pounded. He didn’t speak. Couldn’t. The desire that had flooded him two seconds ago drained away.
Fran was Ella and Holly’s mother. He owed them. If Fran came back, he’d owe it to his two daughters to give the marriage another shot.
But …
His hands clenched.
‘Thanks for the beer, Cade. Goodnight.’
Nicola left and he couldn’t even manage to croak a goodnight after her.
If Fran came back …
He slashed a hand through the air. Fran was never coming back and he could taste the bitterness of that knowledge on his tongue. Ella and Holly no longer had a mother. He’d failed them.
His hand clenched around his beer. He scowled into the night. He wouldn’t fail them again, though.
He downed the rest of his beer and considered his intriguing nanny’s strategic retreat. She wasn’t immune to him. He’d felt it in her kiss. In both kisses they’d shared so far. He felt it in her gaze when she didn’t think he was paying her any heed. It arced between them, unspoken, whenever their eyes locked.
He shook his head. Nicola was wrong. Things didn’t have to get complicated between them. Some uncomplicated adult Christmas fun could be exactly what the doctor ordered. It’d provide them—him—with a much-needed release, and he’d make damn sure that it restored her confidence. Win-win.
He nodded once, hard. He had every intention of bringing Nicola around to his way of thinking as soon as he could. First, though, he’d give her some space.
Cade didn’t offer to give her a boxing lesson the next afternoon. Not that Nicola expected him to. She went back to the treadmill, and to glaring at the rowing machine … and to lecturing herself.
She had to remain strong.
Sleeping with Cade … A betraying thrill shot through her. She increased the speed of the treadmill and gritted her teeth. Sleeping with Cade would undo all she’d accomplished so far. It would make a mockery of her growing sense of self-sufficiency and the realisation that she was responsible for her own happiness.
She loved her friends, she needed them, but she could rely on herself too. If she made love with Cade she would be in danger of transferring all her misplaced need to him instead of learning to stand on her own two feet first.
Developing her self-reliance and inner strength was more important than physical release and temporary pleasure.
She gritted her teeth and increased the speed of the treadmill yet again.
Nicola’s eyes narrowed a couple of nights later as she watched Cade give Ella yet another sweet. She caught his eye and shook her head, but he ignored her.
They hadn’t long finished a noisy game of charades and the children were buzzing and jumping, primarily due to Cade’s influence. It was beyond time that they started to quieten down and get ready for bed.
He gave Ella yet another sweet. Nicola refused to let her gaze stray to the bowl of chocolate sultanas. ‘You’ll make her sick,’ she chided.
‘Nonsense! Just because you won’t relax and allow yourself a few chocolate sultanas doesn’t mean the rest of us have to abstain.’
‘Cade!’ his mother chided.
Nicola shifted on her chair. How on earth did he know about her battle with those darn sultanas?
With a giggle, Ella climbed up onto her father’s lap and requested, and was given, another sweet. She grinned in triumph at Nicola.
Little monkey! But Nicola could hardly remonstrate with her. Besides, it wasn’t the child’s fault but Cade’s. ‘Bedtime soon,’ she said instead.
‘Nooooo,’ Ella wailed. ‘Daddy, Daddy, can’t we stay up a bit longer?’
She was about to tell Ella that it was already an hour after her bedtime, but Cade merely said, ‘Sure, sweetheart. It’s Christmastime, of course you can stay up.’
He broke into a rowdy Christmas carol. Ella promptly slid off his lap to dance with Jamie and Simon. Holly, who had started to fall asleep in Cade’s other arm, promptly woke up and squealed in excitement and demanded to join in … with two sweets—one for each hand.
Nicola gritted her teeth and subsided into her chair. All of the children would be grumpy and out of sorts tomorrow. When Cade handed out more sweets and chocolates she had to get up and leave the room.
One savage tug had the refrigerator door swinging open. She seized a jug of iced water and helped herself to a glass to cool off. Cade was trying to make this Christmas memorable for his children. He wasn’t flouting bedtime and mealtimes just to annoy her.
She scowled and slouched against the counter. Not that he’d be the one to deal with the fallout. He’d leave that to the hired help.
She snorted. Get over yourself, Nicola Ann. She used her mother’s moniker for her. You’re just grumpy because Cade has avoided you ever since that beer on the front steps.
When what you want him to do is pursue you harder.
She snapped upright. No, she didn’t!
‘I thought I’d find you sulking in here.’
Cade.
She turned. ‘What? Have you had enough of revving the kids up for one night and now you’re heading off to bed and leaving Dee, your mother and I to deal with four hyperactive children?’
‘Loosen up, Nicola, and give the kids a break. It’s Christmas. They’re allowed to have some fun and to enjoy the season.’
‘Within limits,’ she shot back. ‘Kids thrive on routine. Too many late nights and too many sweets will—’
‘You mean that you thrive on routine, that you thrive on the safe option.’
That was when she knew they were no longer talking about the children.
‘Seems to me you don’t have any room in this makeover plan of yours for any spontaneity whatsoever. You stick to the plan and refuse to deviate.’
Cade was talking about what had almost happened between them and would be happening between them right now if she’d said yes instead of no the other night.
‘Funny.’