One Daddy Too Many (12 page)

She didn’t have to ask twice.

Rob
had visualized his seduction of Kate much differently. For one thing, he’d imagined that she would be shy and need coaxing. He pictured her as hesitant, maybe even slightly repressed.

He quickly discovered he was completely wrong.

“Did I tell you you’re a great kisser?” she asked as she nibbled a trail of wet, playful bites along his jaw.

He’d joined her on the bed and they faced each other, side by side with a small, polite gap between them. They were both still fully dressed. He even had his shoes on.

“And I love the smell of your skin,” she said, running her fingers along the open collar of his golf shirt.

Rob couldn’t stop himself from touching her hair, exploring the texture of the curls he’d always longed to touch. “I like the way you kiss, too,” he said, watching the way her eyes closed when he clenched his hand. “Which probably explains why I spend way too much time thinking about kissing you.”

She looked at him through narrowed eyes. “Kissing is a nice warm-up, but do you know what I’ve missed the most since my divorce? Actually, even before Ian went to
jail, because we’d been so wrapped up in our separate lives we rarely crossed paths.”

He shook his head.

“Skin. Hot, sweaty skin on skin. Isn’t that weird? I used to dream about being in a group orgy with anonymous people. Only I was invisible. I could see them, but I couldn’t feel. I’d wake up aroused and breathless but totally frustrated.” She frowned. “Does that make me kinky?”

“I’m not a psychologist, but I was engaged to one. Which makes me an authority, of course.”

She chuckled. A low sexy sound that made his resistance crumble. “Of course. So, tell me.” She reached between them and pulled his shirt free from the waistband of his Dockers.

Her nails lightly skimmed his ribs sending a delicious shiver through him. “And in my esteemed opinion—”

“Self-esteemed.”

“Naturally.” He tapped her nose playfully. “I’d say you were suffering from epidermal deprivation.”

She splayed her hand flat on his belly. He could read the laughter in her eyes but she said, “That sounds serious.”

“Hmm…” He was slipping under her spell. Only someone with superhuman powers could resist this bewitching woman with her intoxicating smell and captivating touch. “Could prove fatal,” he said, his voice a gruff croak.

Her fingertips dipped below his belt line.

“Oh, no!” she cried with mock horror. “What do you prescribe?”

His breath caught in the back of his throat. “The only cure is immediate removal of all clothing, then C.P.R.” He rolled over so he had her half-pinned beneath him. He quickly unbuttoned her pretty sleeveless blouse. Her bra was white cotton. Simple. Demure.

“C.P.R.? The
mouth-to-mouth kind?”

“That, too. But I meant close…personal…relations.” He slipped the fabric from her shoulders. “Requires liberal touching. And feeling.”

She looked at him a moment, then suddenly started laughing. Holding her belly, she wriggled with mirth that seemed to come from the bottom of her toes.

Rob moved enough to kick off his shoes. He tugged his shirt over his head then looked at her. “Quiet, woman, this is a serious matter. We’re obviously very close to losing you. Here, take my hand.”

Once she was sitting upright, he unhooked the front closure bra and pushed the material aside then pulled her into his arms. “This calls for heat and friction. A life is at stake.”

Kate couldn’t agree more. For too long, she’d been merely existing, going through the motions, but she hadn’t really been living—except where Maya was concerned. But, important as being a mother was, she wanted more. Being with Rob, here and now, was about the woman inside her, the person with real needs that had been ignored too long.

“So, why are we wasting time talking?”

They took care of the necessary precautions because they’d both grown up in a time when precautions were standard. Once the condom was in place, they were free to focus on feeling. Rob seemed to divine her needs even before she could express them. His hands were strong and gentle, bold but never pushy. He asked questions. She answered honestly.

“Do you like this?”

“Yes, but I like this more.”

He welcomed her touch—her lips—on every part of his
body. His lean beautiful body. She’d halfway expected to compare him to Ian. How could she not? But that didn’t happen. Not even when she held his penis in her hand. Yes, the two men were different, but that was all her mind registered before the urge to put her mouth where her hand was took precedence.

“Now, Kate?” he called out, his voice raspy with need. “Please tell me you’re ready.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”

Their naked bodies entwined as close as sweat and skin allowed. They seemed perfectly attuned to each other’s rhythm. Her climax was better than any she could recall from dreams…or from her marriage.

Heart racing and still panting like a sprinter, she closed her eyes and whispered, “Thank you.”

His low chuckle reverberated though her, too, since they were still wrapped in each others arms. “If you’re thanking me for saving your life, you’re welcome, but I should confess that the thanks are mutual. You saved me, too.”

“I did?”

“Oh, yeah. I was painfully close to succumbing to a bad case of M.S.B.”

Something told her she was going to regret asking, but she did anyway. “What’s that?”

When he whispered the answer in her ear, she burst out laughing.
Massive sperm build-up.
Damn. A man who made her laugh and made her feel like she never felt before. The combination could only mean one thing: she’d found her perfect mate.

F
IVE HOURS LATER
, Rob reached across the elegant black linen tablecloth to take her hand. After an afternoon of
making love, they’d both agreed dining out was essential. A chance to act like grown-ups instead of teenagers.

“What do you think of this place?”

“It’s nice.”

“But it’s not Romantique.”

She gave his fingers a squeeze, then reached for her napkin. Kate wasn’t big on public displays of affection, he’d noticed. “That’s the best thing it has going for it. I don’t have to cook.”

“Being a chef must make dining out a rather surreal experience. Can you eat without critiquing?”

She opened her menu. “Absolutely,” she said. Then, peeking over the top of the four-page tome she added, “Unless it’s awful.”

“I’m sure it won’t be as fabulous as your cooking, but I have to admit I’m starved.”

“Well, we did have quite a workout.” Her toes touched his pant leg and skimmed downward until they reached his bare ankle. He’d forgotten to pack dress socks. She’d offered to run to the gift shop for him since all she had left to do to be ready was put on her dress, but they’d wound up making love again, instead.

And his body was ready again just from that one simple touch. How? he wondered. His ex-girlfriend had insisted men reached their sexual peak in their teens while women Kate’s age were just starting to come into theirs.

He reached for the wine list. “White or red?”

They compromised and ordered champagne.

Kate lifted her glass. “To brilliant men who know C.P.R.”

Her wink was nearly his undoing. Damn. He was in love. Plain and simple. Only there was nothing simple about it. Kate’s life was in Las Vegas. Her daughter had
warmed to Rob a tiny bit during swim lessons, but he knew that Maya still hoped Ian would move in with them.

Plus, his footing in his job was iffy at best. He thought he’d been sent here to make order out of chaos, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that his real role was executioner. If he didn’t fire one of the two lawyers earmarked for a pink slip, he’d be free to return to the Bay area. Unemployed, but free.

The crystal chime—and gulp that followed—took the edge off his nerves, but he couldn’t help thinking the better toast would have been: damned if you do, damned if you don’t. He promised himself he’d bring up the subject of the future after dinner. Well after dinner. Like, around breakfast.

K
ATE SLIPPED OUT
of the room, closing the door behind her with the tiniest of clicks. Rob was sleeping soundly—as were most of the hotel guests, she figured. The clock beside their bed read three-nineteen when she’d woken up suddenly, completely.

She’d lain still for a few minutes, listening to the man beside her. She loved the little sounds he made. She loved his warmth. Being able to slide her toe a few inches to the right and feel his presence. Such a simple act, but one she’d missed more than she realized.

And with that realization came some big questions. Was Rob the one? Would they be able to make a relationship work? A thousand variables crashed through her mind leaving her breathless and tense. She was afraid her worries might somehow leak into his dreams, and he looked so peaceful and happy she didn’t want to ruin his much-needed sleep. After all, they’d worked off their meal in stunning fashion.

So, as
quietly as possible, she’d dressed in the bathroom, grabbed her purse and left. This was Nevada. Casinos in Nevada never closed.

A pervasive hum from Slots Row, accompanied by the sound effects from the various games, greeted her the moment she stepped off the elevator. She skirted the table games, deciding she didn’t want to play anything that required too much brain power. She’d picked up a guest card earlier and sat down to try her luck at a machine called Lobstermania.

Larry the Lobster Fisherman was surprisingly good to her. She was up about thirty dollars when the realization struck her: she was happy. Smiling like an idiot. Madly in love happy.

A sudden infusion of tears made her blink. “You’re a fool,” she muttered under her breath.

Although no one was nearby, she heard a voice say,
“No, you’re a winner.”

A shiver passed through her as she looked around. She was alone. And the voice she’d heard was too familiar to be a fluke of the overheard public address system. It belonged to her father.

She pressed the button to play another game. The flashing lights raced up and down, crossways and diagonal. Lines locked and Larry’s song started to play. Another win. She was fifty bucks ahead.

“Come on, Kate. You know what to do when you’re on a roll.”

The voice in her head was getting annoying. And loud. She ran her hand over her face then glanced at her watch. She’d been playing for over an hour. She was tired, delusional. I need to go to bed, she thought.

“Or switch
to craps.”

She jumped to her feet and cashed out her points. Talking to the spirit world—or hearing her dead father’s voice—was Grace’s thing, not hers. Grace and Ernst had had a special rapport. She was the baby and their father’s little angel. Alex was first-born, the golden child. Liz and Yetta shared an interest in herbs and healing. Only Kate didn’t have a niche. She’d spent a great deal of her life calling herself the invisible child.

She was headed to the bar for a cola when she “felt” a hand on her shoulder. She turned to look and saw two craps tables open. Fewer than a dozen people were playing.

The only time Kate had ever felt really confident in her ability to shoot dice was when her father was at her side. Then they’d challenge each other, bet on long shots and laugh riotously when they paid off. The last time they’d played together had been a few months before his stroke.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I can’t.”

“You can’t win if you don’t play.”

She’d heard Ernst say that a hundred times. Her father had loved to gamble and so had Kate. But that had been long ago. Before her life had turned upside down. Losers only stood to lose more, she’d figured.

But she’d won tonight, hadn’t she? And she didn’t mean just at the slot machine.

With a confidence she hadn’t felt for a long time, Kate changed directions and walked to the craps table.

“New shooter coming out,” the croupier said, passing her a selection of dice.

She picked two. Her lucky ones. And she started throwing. She didn’t stop until she felt a hand on her shoulder. A real hand. She blinked. “Rob. Oh, my gosh, is it morning?”

He
looked sleepy around the edges but fully cogent. “Early. Seven-thirty.” He glanced at the table. “Are all those chips yours?”

She looked down. “Uh-huh. I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d play a little.” She felt embarrassed but exhilarated, too. “I used to gamble with my dad. He taught me. Is something wrong?”

He nodded. “Yeah. We need to go.”

She didn’t understand, but she didn’t argue. The serious look in his eyes indicated urgency. She left the croupier a sizable tip then gathered up her winnings. Rob led the way to the lobby area across from the registration desk and made her sit down.

Her stomach in knots, she asked, “What’s going on?”

He sat down on the low table directly opposite her. “Ian has Maya.”

“What?”

“Your mother called about fifteen minutes ago. She said he dropped by unexpectedly when she was making breakfast for Maya and her two friends who spent the night. Said he wanted to talk to you. She asked him to come back later when you were home, but he came in anyway.”

“That sounds like Ian,” Kate muttered.

“Maya and her friends were eating pancakes. I guess one of them had had a bad night and wanted her mommy, which was why they were up so early. Yetta walked the little girl to the front door. When she returned to the kitchen, Ian and Maya were gone.”

“He took her? But he doesn’t have a car.”

“Maybe he stole one. I don’t know. Your mom was pretty upset. I packed our stuff, settled our bill and asked the bell captain to get our car. It should be here in a minute. If
you want to cash in your chips, I’ll grab us a couple of doughnuts to go.”

Kate stumbled to her feet, her mind disoriented. Rob nudged her in the right direction. Maya was gone? The concept was so huge it didn’t quite fit in her head.

The cashier gave her hundred-dollar bills, which Kate stuffed carelessly in her purse. Her adrenaline was starting to pump. She needed to get home. Now.