Live-In Lover. Lyn Stone

wasn’t angry.

      Molly nodded. “Yep. Syd’s brilliant.”

      “Mmm,” Damien murmured noncommittally. It seemed a typically mother-like thing for her to say.

      Damien had never thought much about motherhood and all it entailed, likely because he couldn’t remember the woman who had given birth to him. His uncle, a widower in his fifties, had adopted him when Damien was orphaned at age three.

      A succession of housekeepers had provided only glimpses of what a mother around the house must be like.

      Damien suddenly felt a tremendous lack, where before there had been only a blank space inside him he hadn’t realized existed.

      He couldn’t chance that what had happened to him might happen to this child. Losing a parent must be the worst event possible for a little one.

      Unless, of course, it was a parent like Jensen. He had to keep Molly safe so she could continue to give all she was giving to her child.

      “You’ll go with your mother and daughter, of course,” he informed her.

      She shook her head firmly. “Can’t do that. Jack would just wait until I came home and start all this again. I think we’d better get this settled while you’re around to help me, don’t you?”

      She had a point, he admitted reluctantly. Molly was right about one thing, the police would not intervene unless her ex-husband did something they construed as dangerous.

      Maybe he should allow her to stay here. Together, they might draw Jensen out, make him lose his cool in front of witnesses and threaten her publicly. Even if that was not enough to get the local cops to arrest him, Damien might be able to frighten him severely enough so that he’d give up his plan for revenge and leave Molly alone.

      It was a long shot and probably not a permanent fix. The success of it would depend directly on Jack Jensen’s sanity. Unfortunately, there were few alternatives.

      “Do you have an extra room by any chance?” he asked.

      She laid the spoon down and looked at him with such hope, he felt guilty that he had ever considered not helping her even if his hesitation had lasted only seconds.

      “You’ll stay here? With me?” Her relief was nearly palpable. “You’re terrific, you know that? I am so grateful, Damien. Ford will be, too.”

      As if anyone could drag him away, Damien thought with a wry twist of his lips. Regardless of the reason for it, that brother of hers might not be all that thrilled with the idea of a virtual stranger bunking in with his sister. From the way they had acted in the hospital, Damien knew Molly and Ford must be quite close.

      How would it be if Molly touched him with a bit of that caring she showed so easily to her daughter and her brother? She must have some to spare. It needn’t be anything permanent, or anywhere near the depth of what she felt for her family.

      Love certainly wasn’t necessary, or even something he wanted from her. That would be a little too deep for comfort. He only wished for a taste of how it would feel to know someone cared a bit, that was all.

      “I have an idea,” he said, using his most business-like tone. “How do you think Jensen would react to your having a live-in lover?”

      Her beautiful mouth dropped open and her eyes widened with shock. Then she laughed. Ah, that full-bodied, head-thrown-back laughter he remembered from when he’d first met her. His own smile widened in response to it. Even the child giggled and patted its sticky hands together.

      Was it so ridiculous, his suggestion?

      “Jack would go berserk, if he’s not there already,” she said with a droll expression. “Not that he still cares about me, even in a twisted way. But he sure wouldn’t want me to find anybody else. After him. He always said…” Her voice trailed off and her expression darkened. “No, I don’t want what happened to Joe to happen to you, Damien. We’d better scratch that plan.”

      “We have to draw him out somehow and I believe this will work. I can take care of myself, Molly. And I’ll take care of you, as well. Trust me?”

      She worried her bottom lip with her teeth for a moment, then nodded.

      He stood and held out his hand to her. Molly hesitated only a moment and then shook it to set their deal. To his surprise, she held on.

      “Me!” the baby demanded, reaching for him. Hesitantly, Damien extended his left index finger. The small oatmeal-coated hand closed around it, wagging in parody of a handshake.

      For a moment Damien stood there speechless, a part of something for which he had no frame of reference. But it felt incredibly good.

      Then he cleared his throat, disentangled himself and rested his hands on his hips. “Fine, then. Why don’t you pack some things for the child while I make some arrangements by phone? Then we’ll collect your mother and—”

      “We’ll have to wait until she comes home from work at six,” Molly interrupted.

      He nodded. “Better to make the move at night, anyway.”

      She turned away then and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll miss Syd.” Damien watched her supple fingers knead her upper arms. A self-comforting gesture, he supposed.

      Before he knew what he was doing, Damien had placed his hand on her shoulder to add what he could to that comfort. “Everything will work out, Molly,” he assured her. “I’ll see to it.”

      Her sudden smile was a thing to behold. “We’ll see to it together,” she said. Then she patted his hand and moved out from under his grasp to retrieve the child from her high chair.

      “Go stow your gear in the guest room, lover,” she quipped with a brave chuckle that sounded forced. “I have to wonder if anybody in the world’s going to buy this hoax.”

      Again, she laughed, ruefully this time, as she shifted the baby to one hip. “You…and me together? An unlikely match, for sure.” She shook her head, rolled her beautiful eyes heaven-ward and sighed as though the whole idea seemed incredibly bizarre to her.

      Damien wasn’t laughing. “Oh, they’ll buy it,” he said softly, seriously. Then to himself, “I’d buy it if I could afford it.”

      The hours crawled by as they waited for six o’clock. Molly tried to make the time comfortable for Damien, while he seemed determined to make her even more nervous that she already was.

      Instead of watching television to while away the time, he watched her. Everything she did, from unloading the dishwasher to folding clothes, he apparently found fascinating.

      Syd got the same treatment. She might as well have been an alien from another planet under close observation by a scientist. Damien kept his distance, but rarely let either of them out of his sight for long.

      The few breaks they’d had from all that attention were trips to the bathroom and once when he excused himself to make a fairly lengthy phone call to arrange a safe place for her mother and Sydney.

      He also checked her security. She already knew it was little better than adequate. There were no fancy cameras or laser beams installed, but there would be an alarm at the police station if anyone broke in.

      She’d known she couldn’t depend on simple door and window locks and so had bought an inexpensive alarm system. Under the circumstances, she would have gone without groceries to finance that.

      And speaking of groceries, it was time to buy some if she planned to feed a full-grown man. He’d been a sport about eating the peanut butter sandwiches and macaroni and cheese for lunch, but that wouldn’t satisfy a guy his size for long.

      She plopped down onto the sofa beside him and plumped up the pillow next to her. “What shall I buy to cook while you’re here? Any preferences?”

      “We’ll eat out,” he said decisively.

      “Not