A Passionate Proposal. Emilie Rose

muscles of his broad chest and shoulders. A small gold medallion glinted in the dark hair dusting his chest. Finer hair marked a path between his washboard abdominal muscles. She didn’t want to consider what he was—or wasn’t—wearing beneath the thin fabric of his scrubs. Cort had always been athletic, but ten years ago he’d been an eighteen-year-old boy. As a twenty-eight-year-old man, he’d matured beyond expectations.

      Strange feelings stirred in her belly. She dampened her dry lips. “Did you change him and give him a bottle?”

      “Yes to the diaper. No to the formula. The baby book says not to feed a nine-month-old more often than every six hours.” He grimaced. “It also says to let him cry himself back to sleep, but I tried that, and I can’t handle it.”

      His dark curls went every which way, reminding her that he’d also been in bed. She looked through the open door beyond his shoulder to the rumpled sheets on his bed, and her stomach clenched. “Sometimes it’s best to ignore the books and go with your instincts. Would you like for me to fix his bottle?”

      He shook his head. “Thanks, Trace, but if you think that’s what he needs I’ll take care of it. Leanna warned me to keep bottles already made in the fridge. You go back to bed.”

      If she had half a functioning brain she’d do as he suggested, but Cort and Josh obviously needed her. “Let me help.”

      She walked into the tiny kitchenette, opened the refrigerator and extracted a bottle. The cool air washed her hot cheeks. Lordy, the man exceeded every secret fantasy she’d ever dreamed up. Suddenly hot, she plucked at her robe.

      While the formula heated in the bottle warmer she stepped closer to Cort and Josh and stroked a finger along the baby’s damp cheek. “Hi, fella.”

      Josh whimpered and reached for her. After a second’s hesitation, Cort passed him to her. Her forearm brushed his bare chest as she took the baby, and the skin on her arm burned as if she’d pressed it against the radiator in her classroom. The fine hairs on her body stood on end, and her toes curled in her slippers.

      Josh immediately buried his face in her neck and clutched handfuls of her hair.

      Cort gently extricated the tiny fingers and as he did so, his fingertips brushed the skin of her shoulders and neck. She hoped he didn’t notice her goose bumps or the shiver she couldn’t suppress. “He likes you better. Can’t say I blame him.”

      Her heart clenched at the pain lacing his voice, and her pulse raced at his half-naked proximity. “He’s probably accustomed to women taking care of him.”

      He parked his hands on his hips, and his muscles flexed in a most distracting way. The urge to smooth his rumpled hair, to test the suppleness of his skin or to trace the line of dark curls bisecting his navel was difficult to ignore. But ignore it she would.

      When Cort turned away to get the bottle, she laid a hand over her misbehaving heart and took a moment to gather herself and her wayward thoughts. Calm. In control. Professional. You are his nanny now. Act like one.

      A fragment of common sense asserted itself. “Shake the bottle well to avoid hot spots and test it on the inside of your wrist to make sure it won’t burn his mouth.”

      He did and then offered her the bottle, but she shook her head. He had to learn. “Sit down. You give it to him.”

      Cort sat in the overstuffed chair, and Tracy placed Josh in his arms, being extra careful not to touch Cort’s bare skin during the transfer. Cort nudged the nipple against Josh’s lips, but the baby refused. “Come on, buddy. Fill your tank.”

      Josh wailed. Both males were as tense as a newly strung clothesline. She touched a hand to her temples and looked skyward. Why me? Is this some kind of test? She blew out a long, slow breath.

      “Relax, Cort, or he won’t either.” Knowing she’d probably regret it, she stepped behind the chair and kneaded Cort’s knotted shoulder muscles. The heat from his supple skin traveled from her fingertips to her breasts and thighs. Cort’s tension ebbed from him to her, swirling in the pit of her stomach and coiling around her chest. She almost groaned aloud when she identified the cause. Desire.

      Obviously, she’d never gotten over her crush on Cort Lander, except now she had the adult, X-rated version dancing through her mind and shortening her breath.

      As Cort’s muscles unwound, so did Josh’s. After one last whimper, the baby hungrily latched on to the bottle.

      Cort exhaled. “Can’t say I blame you, kid. After the last hour I could use a drink myself.”

      Tracy dropped her hands to her sides, wiping them on her gown as if she could erase the feel of him from her memory. She had no need for inhibition-relaxing alcohol. Her senses were already spinning out of control.

      She wanted the impossible. She wanted Cort Lander. “Don’t forget to burp him.”

      She let herself out of the apartment before she did something foolish.

      Who’d have expected practical, down-to-earth Tracy to have magical fingers or hair as soft as satin sheets?

      Cort smothered a yawn and blinked his tired, gritty eyes. He’d kept an erection for hours after she’d left last night, and consequently, he’d hit the snooze button on his alarm clock one time too many this morning.

      “Okay, kid, let’s try this again.” He tucked a spoonful of baby mush between Josh’s lips. Josh promptly sprayed it all over him. Aw, hell. He’d have to change shirts, which meant he’d probably be late for his first day on the job.

      “Can’t say I blame you. This stuff looks and smells like casting plaster.”

      A tap on the inside door meant the cavalry had arrived. Remnants of last night’s dreams jolted his libido and heart into overdrive. “Come in.”

      Tracy stepped over the threshold looking good enough to eat in jeans that hugged her hips and a peachy-colored top that reflected the blush on her freshly scrubbed cheeks. The thick braid of her cinnamon hair fell over her shoulder to loop around the tip of her breast like a lover’s tongue. Oh, man. He clenched his teeth on a groan.

      Tracy took one look at the situation and shook her head. “I have Cheerios downstairs.”

      Before he could say another word she vanished and his heart sank, but she reappeared seconds later and deposited an armload of stuff on the table. He could have kissed her for coming back. He was definitely out of his element here, but he wasn’t sure about the yellow box of cereal and the banana. “The book didn’t say anything about regular food.”

      “Would you trust me on this one?” Her white teeth dug into her lush bottom lip, and he figured he’d probably agree to just about anything if she kept that up. Scraping a hand across his chin, he nodded. She had to know more about babies than he did, and he’d always been able to count on Tracy steering him in the right direction.

      She set a bottle of stain remover on his side of the table and then scattered a few cereal rings on the high chair tray. Josh snatched them up, shoving them into his mouth as fast as a linebacker at a buffet. He greeted the banana with the same enthusiasm.

      Tracy’s gaze traveled over him. “You’d better change and get out of here.”

      “You’re right. Thanks for helping.” He stood and peeled off his shirt. Tracy inhaled swiftly. He hesitated. Did she feel the same fierce attraction that twisted his hormones into a pretzel? Or had he offended her? He started to shrug the shirt back on.

      Her eyes were big and round and her cheeks bore a fresh wash of color. “It’s okay. I’ve seen a man without his shirt before. I’ve seen you without your shirt before.”

      She’d seen him without more than his shirt that time she’d surprised him at the river. Did she remember? “So you have.”

      Her gaze drizzled over him like melting caramel. Did she have any idea what a look like that did to a man? If he stood here long enough there’d