Michelle Major – Fortune's Special Delivery (страница 8)
Immediately she moved, drawing her feet up underneath her. “That’s not what I was suggesting. You don’t owe me anything, Charles.”
“You’re the mother of my child, Alice. Do you really think I’d ignore that?”
“I didn’t seek you out for financial support.”
“Which doesn’t change the fact that I have it to give.”
She bit down on her lip, moved closer to Flynn and softly stroked one of his tiny feet. “Are you going to try to take him away from me?”
“No,” Charles answered immediately, taking her hand in his. “Alice, look at me.”
She glanced up, her gaze wary.
“Why would you think that?”
“Because you’re rich and powerful and British. Texas isn’t your home. I know that.”
He chuckled softly. “It’s quickly becoming my second home, especially since most of my family lives here now.”
“But you’ll return to England at some point.”
He nodded.
“I can’t be separated from Flynn. He’s too young. He’s all I have.”
“That isn’t my intention, Alice.” As much as he’d loved making her smile, Charles equally hated that he’d caused the pain he saw in her eyes now. “I’ve changed my plans so I’ll be in Austin for three weeks. After that, I’ll need to figure out the next step. But I’m not going to take Flynn from you. I promise, Alice.”
She gave a shaky nod, swiped under her eye. He shifted closer to her and traced the pad of his thumb along her moist cheek. “No tears, sweetheart.”
“I’m sorry,” she said automatically. “I’m tired and...”
“No apologies, either.” He dipped his head until his lips barely brushed hers. “We’re in this together. The three of us are a team.”
“A team?” she said, the husky note in her voice making him nip the corner of her mouth.
“Team Fortune Chesterfield,” he whispered, and pressed his lips to hers. Her mouth was soft and yielding, molding to his without question. The taste of her was new and yet familiar, and all the memories of their night together came flooding back to him. The way she’d touched him, her innocence the most erotic thing he’d ever encountered... His fingers trailed through her hair, which was soft as spun silk. He remembered how it felt to have those thick, blond waves fanned out across his chest as she slept. Her tongue touched his, hesitantly, as if she wasn’t sure whether he wanted the kiss to deepen.
There were no words for what Charles wanted from Alice. His need was so elemental, the potential ramifications so jumbled in his mind that he could barely form a coherent thought. His body grew heavy with desire. Desire he understood. Then he felt something in his heart, a slight shift from normal, and a skipped beat that had him tearing his mouth away from hers. In all Charles’s many interactions with women, his protected heart had never come into play. No one had ever come close to breaching his defenses.
Until now.
Until Alice.
“I have to go,” he said as he lurched to his feet. “There’s a... I need to... I’ll call you tomorrow.”
She stared up at him as if he had just sprouted a horn from his forehead. Her fingers pressed to her mouth like she couldn’t believe it had, moments earlier, been crushed under his. What the hell was wrong with him? Alice told him she believed in him, gave him a chance to be a father and first thing out of the gate he practically mauled her. So much for his legendary charm and experience. He felt like a randy schoolboy with his first crush.
“Thank you for the gifts,” she said after a moment.
“Of course.” He ran a hand through his hair even as he backed toward the door of her apartment. “I can bring more. If there’s anything you need—”
“No.” She glanced at Flynn, who was now dozing under the activity gym, and then stood. “You’ve done more than enough, Charles.” Her hands were clenched at her sides in tight fists. If he had to guess, she was trying hard not to physically push him from her home. That was no less than what he deserved.
“I’ll call you,” he repeated, and turned for the door. But before opening it, he swung back, dropped to his knees and reached for Flynn’s chubby hand. “Goodbye, little man,” he whispered. “Sweet dreams.”
Alice stood under the shade of an elm tree in front of her building the next afternoon, watching as a sleek Mercedes sedan pulled to the curb. True to his word, Charles had called that morning and asked to see her and Flynn again, suggesting he bring lunch to her apartment.
Unfortunately, Alice didn’t trust herself alone with the handsome Brit after yesterday’s kissing fiasco. Yes, she wanted a father for her son. But could she and Flynn ever be enough for him? She’d told herself at the start of all this that her needs were secondary to those of her son, but she was having trouble convincing her body. It had felt so right when Charles touched his lips to hers, and she’d wanted to sink into him and revel in the feel of her body thrumming back to life.
It had been silly to believe that Charles would want anything more from her than access to Flynn. What could someone like her possibly offer a man like him? The same doubts had plagued her during her pregnancy, contributing to her long list of reasons for not contacting him.
If she’d had any hopes about him wanting her in that way, they’d been shattered when he’d broken their embrace like she’d tried to eat him alive and he had one chance for escape. She’d gone for more than two decades without a man before Charles, and over a year since their night together. Maybe that’s why her need for him seemed to overpower her.
Although she was rarely alone, with Flynn to look after, motherhood added a level of isolation to her already quiet life that she hadn’t expected. Still, she had no intention ruining the fragile bond Charles had with Flynn just because she was the modern day equivalent of a dried-up spinster.
With that in mind, public outings with Charles seemed the most prudent course of action. But they still needed to maintain some level of anonymity. According to Charles, most people believed he’d gone to Horseback Hollow, as was his original plan. That gave them some time, but although Austin wasn’t as overtly overrun with cowboys as Dallas or Houston, Charles didn’t exactly blend in as a local. Alice hoped to remedy that today.
“Tell me again where we’re going,” Charles said as he approached her on the sidewalk. He wore a fitted black sweater, even though the temperature was hovering in the midseventies, and dark, tapered trousers. Even before he uttered a word, anyone within a block could tell he wasn’t American.
“To the mall,” she said. She held Flynn’s infant seat between them, needing every bit of physical distance she could manage.
“As in a shopping mall?”
Alice almost laughed at the words rolling off his tongue in that crisp accent. “Barton Creek Square isn’t far from here, and you need a new wardrobe.”
He ran a hand over the front of his sweater and arched an eyebrow. “Is there something wrong with my clothes?”
“Not if you want to constantly be recognized while you’re in Austin,” she told him. “You dress like you’re British.”
“I am British.”
“Which is why we’re going to turn you into an American for a few weeks.” She smiled and stepped away from the building. “Trust me, Charles.”
“I’m not wearing Wranglers,” he mumbled, and she did laugh.
“No Wranglers,” she agreed. “But at least one ten-gallon hat.”
He shot her a horrified glance.
“I’m kidding.” Alice found that she enjoyed teasing Charles. “Austin’s fashion style is fairly casual and, because of the college and the music scene, it’s less ‘cowboy’ than a lot of places in Texas. You’ll be fine.” She started for the walkway next to her building. “My car’s in the lot around back.”
“We can take mine.”
“You don’t have a car seat base.”
He flashed her a proud smile. “I do, and I had it installed at the fire station the hotel concierge recommended.”
She sucked in a breath, trying not to let her heart be influenced by the thoughtfulness of that gesture. He lifted the car seat out of her hands, their fingers brushing.
“Hullo there, little man,” he said to Flynn as he tipped back the sunshade. Flynn gurgled in response.
“I need to grab his stroller from the trunk of my car.” She shrugged at Charles’s questioning glance. “There’s not a lot of room in the apartment, so I keep it in the car when I’m not using it.”
He considered that for a moment. “A boy needs a yard to romp in, Alice.”
“Flynn has a while to go before the ‘romping’ stage begins.”
“If you’d let me—”
“My apartment is fine.” She held up a hand. “One step at a time. Please.”
“One step at a time. Let’s drive around back to your car.” He hit the remote start on the key fob and then clicked the infant carrier into the base waiting in his back seat. This was the first time she’d gotten in a car with her son and not been driving since her father brought her home from the hospital after Flynn’s birth.
Charles held open the door and she slipped into the buttery leather seat, stowing the diaper bag at her feet.
“Do you always wear heels?” he asked, leaning over the top of the door.
“Whenever possible,” she admitted. “These are low for me.” Today she’d gone casual with a pair of polka-dot espadrilles with a stacked one-inch heel.