A Perfect Bride For Christmas (21 page)

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A Perfect Bride for Christmas

dangled a piece of twine she’d found on the floor in front of the black and white kitten. It batted at the string and clacked its jaws in wide-eyed wonder.

“Can I take Walter home?” Mia begged as she

cradled the kitten in her arms.

The white kitten sized Alex up with large golden eyes. Alex swore the little imp smirked in triumph.

“They’re a little young yet—it’s not time for

them to leave their mother.”

“Okay, but don’t let Gramma give Walter away,

please.” Mia put Walter down by his mother, and he immediately worked her fur to find a teat.

Alex looked over at Zoe, wondering what to do.

This was one area where he’d let her handle the powder keg that could go off if they left Walter behind.

“Kittens take a lot of work.” She took Mia’s hand and gave it a little pat. “You’d have to share Walter with your sisters.”

The other two jumped up and down and begged

for the kitten with a promise they would all take care of Walter.

“Let’s see how well you do at taking care of your rooms and chores first.”

All the way back to the house, he watched his

children’s excited chatter at the prospect of getting one smug, grinning cat.

Each step made it difficult to ignore Zoe’s

mighty fine ass. The woman filled out a pair of jeans.

She left him breathless and hard as stone.

Alex jammed his hands into his jeans pockets in a futile attempt to hide his hard-on. He couldn’t walk into his mother’s house like this, not with Sydney lurking around. Life handed him a shit

sandwich and asked,
Do you want fries with that?

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Zoe hurried back from dropping the girls off at pre-school and glanced at the clock on the van’s radio. 8:15. Alex’s Hummer already sat in her drive.

She saw him in the driver’s seat, talking on his cell phone, looking none too happy. He ended the call the second he realized she’d pulled in next to him.

Alex got out of the Hummer and loped around

the front of her van to open the door for her. “Sorry, I’m a little early.”

Zoe got out of the van and sorted through her

key ring for her house key.

“Thanks for taking some time for me.”

She’d promised herself she’d be rational, treat him with nothing more than a polite, professional interest—now she wanted to jump him in the

driveway, snow and all. This morning, he’d dressed for work. The long black wool coat lifted in the cold winter breeze, the black and white plaid scarf added a touch of dash to his very proper business attire. A small bit of lint from the scarf rested on his

shoulder. She reached up to brush it away without thinking. It seemed so natural, the sort of thing she’d done a hundred times when she’d worked for him. “There, you can’t go to the office looking like a rag picker.”

“A rag picker?” He smiled in bemusement.

She waved her hand in front of her face and

smiled. “I’m sorry. It’s a rather archaic term.” Zoe seated the key in the front door’s lock. “That’s what I get for reading too many historical romance novels.”

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Alex gave her a weird look, far away, as if he

wanted to say something but stopped at the last minute. A second later, he had his attorney’s poker face on, very bland and unreadable.

So that’s how he planned to play this. It worked for her. She couldn’t allow her schizophrenic

hormones to run amok. She opened the door and put her purse on the small foyer table. “Would you like a cup of coffee? I put some on before I left, and I think I’ve got a couple of lemon-blueberry muffins.”

Alex pulled off his gloves and stuffed them in his coat pocket. “Coffee would be good.” So polite, so formal until his eyes caught something. He smiled.

“I think you have an escapee.” The dimple in his cheek hit her with the impact of a blowtorch on ice.

Zoe went from cold, to hot, to wet in a heartbeat.

Damn it, he did it again.

She had to get her rocketing emotions under

control. The man didn’t belong to her, never would.

“What?” She looked in the direction he pointed.

“Oh, that’s Macy’s Dora the Explorer doll. Macy thinks Dora will suffocate if she puts her away in the toy box.” Zoe picked it off the floor and sat it on an end table.

The smile dimmed. Alex peeled off his coat and

scarf and handed them to Zoe. He picked up the doll.

“I want this.”

“Want, what—a doll?” Zoe chuckled. “You’ll have to arm wrestle Macy for it.” She took his things to the hall closet, reached for a hanger, but couldn’t resist the temptation to bury her nose in his coat.

For a second, she allowed herself the luxury of feeling soft cashmere against her cheek as she

breathed in his scent. Citrus, spice and the sharp earthy smell of wool.

“No.”

Zoe came down to earth. She hung up the coat

and closed the door. “Then tell me what you want.

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That’s why you’re here.” She walked past Alex and watched him put the doll back on the table with gentle care. “Let’s go into the kitchen. I’ll get the coffee, and we can talk.”

He followed her into the sparkling room, his

eyes watching every move she made as she went

about pouring the coffee and heating up the muffins.

His intense scrutiny made her tense, so nervous that she dropped one of the muffins. Alex raced in to save the day, catching the muffin before it hit the floor.

“Good save.” She put the muffin back on the

saucer.

“Product of living the King Brothers and Jesse

Saurs. You either played good baseball, football, and hockey, or you were dead meat.” The coolness left him. Here was the Alex she knew, not the polite stranger who showed up on her doorstep. “I’m one hell of a catcher and not a half-bad goalie.”

Zoe pulled out a chair and motioned at the

opposite chair with the muffin-filled saucer. “You said in the living room that you wanted something.

What?”

Alex took off his suit jacket and placed it over the back of the chair. “I want what you have with the girls.” He sat, reached for his muffin. His long fingers tore it apart one small piece at a time—just like Mia.

“If you mean twenty-four-seven, you know that’s not possible.”

“I realize that. What I want is the family stuff—

toys on the floor, mealtimes.” Alex smiled and

popped a piece of the muffin in his mouth.

“Although, I’m still recovering from our trip to McDonald’s.” His eyes grew round. “Wow, this is good.”

“I make my own mix and sell it. It’s quite

popular. Now back to the kids.”

“Is there any way we can come to an

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accommodation on visitation? I have to admit I’m scared shitless of the idea of raising three daughters, but I want to do this. I want them in my life.”

Zoe got up and went to the small desk in one

corner of the kitchen. Her hand trembled as she pulled the letter Tommy Dunne had couriered over earlier in the week, along with a DVD. She laid them in front of Alex and sat back down at the table.

“This is the letter requesting the DNA samples.”

Alex opened it up and pulled out the page along with the consent document. “You signed it.” He picked up the DVD. “
Bennett Family Video
. I don’t get it.”

“Yes, I signed it.” She nodded, her heart in her throat as she tried to get the words out. “After you left, after we told the girls about you, I decided it was time to put this to rest. You can do whatever you need to change the name on their birth

certificates. The DVD is something I put together for the girls when they got older. Baby pictures, videos, stuff like that. James really got into documenting every phase of their lives.”

Zoe watched his throat work. He grabbed her

hand and gave it a squeeze that said more than any words. “Thank you—for everything.”

She put her hand over his, and for a second,

they sat there as parents, united over their children.

This bond could never be broken, never taken away from her. Alex would always be a part of their lives.

“You can have the girls whenever you want, as

long as we communicate, make any arrangements

together.”

“That’s good.” He cleared his throat and took a sip of coffee. “We’ll want to take it slow at first, get them used to my family. Mom is thrilled about

having grandchildren.” He got up from the table to pace with excitement. “Sydney’s loft is no place for kids. I need to find a house with a yard, get a dog.”

“Better make that a Walter.”

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“Okay.” He turned to her. “I can learn to clean litter boxes.”

“No, the girls will have to do that as part of their chores.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “They have chores?

They’re only four.”

“Do you want to wait until they’re sixteen and

tell them to clean their rooms?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a

wry smile. “I guess not.”

“Alex, we need to talk about Sydney. I’m serious when I say I don’t want her around the children. The woman needs help. Serious, professional help.”

“No, Sydney’s just worked up about the wedding

plans. She’s overwhelmed.” Alex’s eyes skittered away in a lie. Alex King could fool a judge and jury, but not Zoe. Not after the years she’d spent cleaning up his messes. “Sydney’s afraid I’ll cheat on her.” He took another bite, his eyes focused on muffin. “The irony is I’ve been faithful to her—except when she told me she didn’t want to marry me.”

The fact he’d been faithful to Sydney didn’t

surprise Zoe. Oh, the man loved women and held the title of a true chick magnet. Alex could walk into a party and have ten women glommed onto him before he made it to the cash bar. However, he remained faithful while in a committed relationship. Zoe had never known him to stray during his engagement to Bianca, flirt maybe, but never cheat.

“It’s more than that, and you know it. You were just dumped and you turned to me.” She thumped

her hand against her chest. “Me! You don’t think Sydney suspects something—well, you’re wrong. And I don’t want her taking out her suspicions on the girls. The only way I’ll allow her around my—our—

children is under strict supervision.”

“That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think? Sydney

wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

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“A fly, maybe not. But she’s got my kids sighted in her target. She sees them as a threat. She almost slapped Macy.”

Alex frowned but nodded in agreement. “Sydney

isn’t too keen on the idea of children, so this really threw her. We’ll work something out.” He picked up the envelope and video. “I don’t know what, but we’ll find a way.”

“I hope so.” She let out a sigh. How could things get any more complicated?

He stopped in front of her, his closeness bringing an onslaught of emotions. The flutter in her chest moved until it twisted her into a knot of need. The jittery feeling spread until her body ached. Without thinking, she moved closer until they were touching.

Alex smiled down at her. “Thank you for this.”

He held up the envelope and DVD, then put them

back on the table. “You’ve given me so much that I’m—
I’m
—at a loss for words.” His leaned down to skate a kiss over her cheek, his breath sweet with lemon and mixed with the earthiness of coffee.

Its warmth made her tremble and whimper with

need.

He pulled away, his eyes questioning, his hands framing her face. “This doesn’t feel wrong. God help me, it doesn’t.”

His hand moved from her cheek to cup the back

her head as the kiss moved to her lips, nipping, tasting. She captured his breath in her mouth. Her tongue stroked his, tangling in a hot mesh of

passion.

Alex’s hand glided under her sweater, his

fingers feathering up her torso to graze the

underside of her breasts. His thumb found her bra-covered nipple, turning it into a hot beacon that begged for his touch.

She needed to touch him, to feel the ripped

muscles under his light blue shirt. His tie fell to the 171

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floor. Her hands worked the buttons on his shirt, tugging the tail from his expensive slacks. The feel of his heart racing under her hand, his fevered skin, made her giddy with power. She did this to him. She reveled at the way his muscles bunched at the touch of her nails scraping his nipple, tangling in the soft hair of his chest. And it was wrong.

“Stop, we have to stop.” Zoe drew in a shattered breath. “We can’t do this.”

Alex’s eyes were hot blue with only a trace of

black around the irises. The muscles of his jaw bunched as he stepped away, his hands dropping to his side. “I know, I know.”

Zoe pushed past him and rushed to the small

bathroom off the kitchen. She turned on the faucet to splash her heated cheeks.

The tears could come later. Why had she left

herself open to this? She had to be the most pathetic woman in the world. Old fears crowded her. Had she allowed him to use her as a way to destroy the image of Zoe the Chubby Best Friend forever?

It surprised her to find him sitting the couch, waiting. It aggravated her to find him perfectly dressed, not a hair out of place. He glanced up at her with a practiced distance, as if nothing had

happened in the kitchen.

“Oops, we almost did it again,” she paraphrased a Brittany Spears song as she tried for nonchalance.

“I don’t know how I’m going to be able to eat at that table with my kids. This could turn out to be an expensive hobby—I can’t buy new furniture every time you want to screw my brains out.” Zoe plopped on the other end of the couch. “That’s what would’ve happened if we hadn’t come to our senses when we did, hmm?