Winning Wyatt (The Billionaire Brotherhood Book 1) (22 page)

But
would it terrify Kara?

“Be
right back.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead and got up to take care of
business. When he returned, he pulled her towards him, trapping one of her
hands between them. Kara opened her fingers to reveal a rose petal and placed
her palm against his heart.

“All
right. I’m ready,” she said.

“Again?”
He tilted his lips into a grin of satisfaction. “I know you think I’m
superhuman, but I’ll need a few minutes.”

She
gave him a reproving glance. “I’m ready for the talk.”

“Which
one? The one where I pledge my eternal devotion and state my intentions?”

“No,
silly. The one where we agree this doesn’t mean anything. That it’s only
physical, and we shouldn’t get carried away.”

Yep,
she was definitely spooked. “Are you sure that’s the speech I was going to
make?”

“Weren’t
you?”

“No.”
He fingered the two tiny baby rings threaded together on a chain around her
neck. “I was going to say it was as good as the first time. Better than the
first time.”

She
smoothed her fingers through the wiry hair on his chest, rubbing it first in
one direction and then the other, waiting. When he said nothing, she dropped
back and pulled the sheet up to cover her. “And after you said that, you were
going to say...?”

He
draped a possessive arm across her chest to prevent her retreat. “I was going
to ask how long you can stay.”

“Wyatt!”
She punched him lightly in the shoulder. “You’re supposed to define the rules.”

“Are
there supposed to be rules?”

“With
you there are.”

He
shook his head. “Not this time. I don’t want to play games, Kara mia. Let’s
just let this happen. Let’s go wherever it takes us.”

She
pushed her hair away from her face. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.” She
pleated the sheet between her fingers. “You know the story. We’re just a man
and a woman.” She took a frantic grip on his arm. “No regrets, no
recriminations.” She rubbed non-existent sweat from her forehead. “When it’s
over, it’s over.” She was almost pleading with him by the time she finished.
“Jump in anytime.”

He
gripped the fine bones of her wrist to halt the nervous rambling of her hand.
Her pulse raced beneath his fingertips. “Is that what you want?”

“It’s
what I need.” She turned her hand to clasp his fingers. “Unless this is going
to be a one-shot deal.”

“Is
that what you want?” he repeated.

She
hesitated. “It might be for the best, but it’s unlikely.”

Relief
flooded through him. “I agree.”

“So
to make this work, I need to keep any relationship we might have
compartmentalized.”

He
smiled to himself, picturing her trying to contain him in some neat little
corner of her heart. No point in warning her he had no intention of staying in
his designated box this time. “Do you know what I need? Champagne.” He swung
his legs over the side of the bed and reached for the phone. “Or maybe that tea
we talked about.” As he waited for room service to answer, he lifted the drape
and looked out the window. “Damn.”

“What?”

“It’s
snowing. I’ve only lived here six weeks, and it’s snowed five times already.
Hello? Yes, I’d like to order—” He noticed Kara slip out of the other side of
the bed and bend down. Wyatt put his hand over the receiver and enjoyed the
view. “What are you doing?”

“Getting
dressed.”

“Why?”

“I
have to go.”

“Never
mind,” he said into the phone before hanging up. “Now? You have to go now?”

“Yes.”
She wriggled into her panties. “It’s snowing.”

She
seemed to think that said it all. He noticed her fingers shaking as she wrapped
her dress around her.

“Kara.”
He took her hands in his. “Sometimes it’s safer just to wait it out.”
      

“I
can’t.” Her voice quivered and her eyes had taken on a wild look. “I have to
get home. I have to be with Sean.”

He
could see there was no reasoning with her. He reached for his boxers. “Hang on,
and I’ll go with you.”

Wyatt
insisted on following Kara home from the hotel. She didn’t need him to, didn’t
want him to, and would have preferred it if he hadn’t, but he did anyway
against all her objections.

She
hated the snow. Driving through the blinding white flakes tormented her with a
sense of déjà vu. Her palms sweat as she gripped the steering wheel. Even
pulling safely into her garage didn’t help her relax. Nothing would calm her
until she held Sean safely in her arms.

He
was elbow deep in red finger-paint when she arrived, but that didn’t prevent
her from scooping him up.

“Mommy,
look!” Her son proudly held up his picture. “I’m making balentimes.”

“I
see that.” She covered his face with noisy kisses. “You’re my valentine.”

He
struggled to get down when he spotted Wyatt bearing an armful of flowers and
balloons.

“I’m
making balentimes,” he repeated.

“And
I’ve brought valentines for you.” Wyatt gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek.
“Are you finished painting?” From the back, Wyatt put his arms around the
child’s waist and carried him over to the sink.

“I’m
glad you’re here.” Angela went to wash her hands, too. “I wasn’t sure what time
to expect you, and I have plans.”

“You
aren’t going out tonight, are you? The weather’s terrible.” Kara held back a
curtain to show Angela the accumulating snow. “Maybe you should sleepover since
you have to be here early tomorrow.”

“Kara,
it’s Valentine’s Day. I have a date. I can come back later to spend the night
if you’re worried about me being late in the morning.”

“You
know I’m not concerned about that. I’m just worried about the condition of the
streets.”

“The
weather station said it would dwindle to flurries within the hour.” Angela
headed for the back door, pulling on her coat and gloves. “If it keeps up, will
they cancel your appointment in the morning?”

“I’ll
call you if they do. Be careful tonight.”

“Yes,
Mother,” Angela sassed, making a bug-eyed face.

“I’m
sorry to be such a worrywart, but be—”

“—careful,”
Angela finished for her. “Yeah, yeah, I know. ‘Night, Sean. ‘Night, Wyatt,” she
called out then said to Kara, “Marco and I’ll be here at eight sharp.”

“Thanks.
I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.” Kara closed the door behind her.

Wyatt
and Sean were still cleaning up finger paints when she returned to the kitchen.
She didn’t know if the afternoon with Wyatt or the weather or her upcoming
dental surgery was making her so jumpy, but having Wyatt study her over Sean’s
head added to her edginess.

“This
for Mommy.” Sean held up a picture that only doting eyes would recognize as a
heart.

“Thank
you, dumplin’,” Kara said. “It’s beautiful. Let’s hang it on the refrigerator.
Oh, doesn’t that look pretty?”

He
held up another painting. “This Daddy’s.”

“I
love it,” Wyatt said. “Should we put it here next to Mommy’s until time for me
to go?”

“Which
will be soon, won’t it?” she prompted. “I mean, I’m getting hungry, and Sean
probably is, too.”

“Great.
What’s for dinner?”

“Wyatt,”
she began, “you can’t—”

“Kara.”
He tapped a fingertip against her lips. “I would have fed you if you hadn’t
rushed to leave.”

Just
because they’d shared incredible intimacies that day didn’t mean she was going
to let him insinuate himself into her life on a regular basis. She would have
to spell out the rules for him. Right after supper.

“We
aren’t having anything fancy.” She opened the refrigerator to scan the
contents.“How do you feel about leftover chili?”

If
he objected to the plain fare, he kept it to himself. She tried to rush him
through the meal, but he asked for seconds. Then the bath he insisted on giving
Sean included a water fight. She suspected him of being willing to read every
one of the Just So stories if she hadn’t put a stop to it.

Throughout
the evening, he didn’t make a single flirtation move or suggestion, but she
knew from the light in his eyes as he looked at her that in his head he was
remembering her naked. And panting. And recently.

If
she expected their afternoon activities to lessen the electricity that arced
between them from a blazing inferno to a pleasant glow, she discovered the
inaccuracy of those expectations. If anything, the opposite held true. Every
glance, every comment, every brush of her skin against his took on nuances of
unprecedented meaning. The overtone of sensuality couldn’t have been more
obvious if Kara’s flesh had changed into transparent cellophane and neon
rampaged through her veins.

By
the time they put Sean down for the night, Kara knew she had to get Wyatt out
of her house before she undressed him and threw herself at his body again. The
idea caused her too much confusion. She wanted their physical intimacy to be a
fling she could control like a sweet tooth. A craving that could be satisfied.
One she could indulge in, now and again, like Godiva chocolates. Not a
consuming hunger she must surrender to with the escalating frequency of an
addict’s need for drugs.

After
Sean lay sleeping, Wyatt and Kara returned to the first floor. Without pausing
to chat, she handed him his coat at the bottom of the stairs.

“You’re
kicking me out?” he asked, more amused than angry. “You won’t reconsider?”

“No.”
She crossed her arms in front of her.

“What
about the weather? The roads are treacherous.”

“Oh!
You’re right.” She chewed her bottom lip, wondering if she could keep her hands
off him if he spent the night. “I guess you could sleepover. In the guest
room.”

“Nah.
It’s not far. I’ll be fine in the SUV.” He ran his fingers across her cheek.
“Thanks for dinner. And the afternoon.”

“No
problem. Thanks for—” Well, hell. Just what was the polite thing to thank him
for under these circumstances? “—the flowers.”

“I
enjoyed the time we spent together.” As usual, he expressed himself more
eloquently than she did. “Every scrumptious bit of it. Maybe we can do it
again.”

She
focused her attention on the precise placement of the hardwood planks beneath
her feet. Until she could control her heartbeat, there was no way she could
meet his eyes and ignore the invitation she would find there. “Maybe.”

He
lifted her chin. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

“No.”
She wouldn’t let herself be pleased by the casual suggestion.

“Yes.”
His tone contained a promise.

She
had to move away from his touch or be lost. She stepped back, but for each step
she took, he followed until he cornered her between the hall tree and the wall.
“I won’t be here,” she blurted as she remembered her date with the oral
surgeon.

He
placed a hand on either side of her. “Then I’ll call back until you are.”

Lowering
his mouth to hers, he imprinted her with a kiss that lingered on her lips until
morning.

The
next morning, Wyatt tucked his shirt into his jeans while he talked to Angela
on speakerphone. “How’s Sean today?”

“He’s
watching Shining Time Station right now, but we’re going to make a snowman in a
little while.”

“I’ll
come over and help.” He looped his belt around his waist. “And how’s Kara?”

“I’m
glad you asked. It’s time for the surgery to be over, but I just heard from
Marco and the bonehead slid his car into a ditch. He’s all right, but he’s
waiting for the tow truck and won’t be able to pick Kara up. I was just going
to call Mamma and see if she’ll go get Kara.”

Wyatt’s
heart lodged in his throat as he imagined every possible scenario from
angioplasty to rhinoplasty. What kind of surgery? Why hadn’t she told him about
it? And once he found out for himself what was wrong, saw that she was all
right, and got her safely home, he’d strangle her. He’d have to, or else she’d
end up driving him crazy. Damn her and her stubborn independence.

“I’ll
go.” As he started to cut the connection, he realized he didn’t know where he
needed to go. “Where is she?”

Remembering
Marco’s bad luck, Wyatt refused to rush and risk an accident on the way from
his house to the oral surgeon’s. Maintaining the speed limit was quite a feat
considering his head still reeled from the idea that something terrible might
have been wrong. And once again, Kara had chosen not to tell him about it.

When
he arrived at the clinic, the nurse said Kara was still asleep. Angela had
called and explained the situation to the office staff. Wyatt received detailed
instructions for the care of a patient following wisdom-teeth extraction.

Lying
in a bed, pale and unconscious wasn’t anyone’s best look, but Wyatt’s heart
melted. Kara looked fragile and sweet, and so much like Sean. It stripped her
of the control she wore like armor, erasing the barrier she maintained between
herself and others except in the most unguarded, intimate moments. Like they’d
shared the day before.

“Ms.
Enderley.” The nurse shook Kara’s shoulder. “Time to wake up.”

Kara
moved her head back and forth and groaned as she swam back to consciousness
from the anesthetic.

The
dental tech helped Kara to a sitting position and then removed the hospital
gown draped around her. She reached for a denim shirt on a hook. “Would you
hand that to me?”

“I’ll
help her.” He slipped the garment over the T-shirt Kara wore and knelt in front
of her before buttoning it. She sat slumped over like a boneless ragdoll while
he dressed her.

“Wyatt?”
Kara said in a voice filled with uncertainty. Hand raised, she traced her
fingers along his jaw line. “My Wyatt.” She patted his cheek. “You’re my Wyatt,
aren’t you?”

“That’s
right, love. How do you feel?”

“Sleepy.
Ow.” Her fingers moved to her own jaw, and she frowned. “Sore.”

“I’m
taking you home now.”

She
allowed him to assist her in getting out to the car and into the house without
complaint. Stepping inside her bedroom for the first time, his only
gratification came from seeing the enormous Thayer painting hanging above her
bed. He’d purchased and sent it to her after she returned to New York. The
unexpected reminder of their first meeting slammed into him with all its
memories until a small groan escaped from Kara. He turned to lift her up and
place her in the center of the bed. She made a remarkably docile patient for
most of the day, only waking up long enough to take medication and plenty of
liquids and replace the ice packs Wyatt kept on her jaws.

 
He remained close-at-hand in case she needed
him, but of course, she didn’t. His concern for her faded to annoyance and then
to anger as the hours passed. Just once he’d like for her to ask him for
something, to include him in her life.

He
was not going to be satisfied with bits and pieces.

A
week after her oral surgery, Kara came home from an appointment to find Wyatt
teaching Sean a game on the learning tablet. On some vague, unconscious level,
she knew he’d brought her home from the clinic and stayed with her for as long
as she needed him. Angela said he’d insisted on taking care of her himself. But
just about the time she’d slept off the anesthetic, he disappeared.

Before
they caught her watching them from the door of Sean’s room, she withdrew and
tiptoed away. At the top of the stairs, she encountered Maria.

“You’re
home early.” Today’s Tagliatti carried a basket of folded clothes. “I was just
going to take these things to Sean’s room, and then feed him his supper. Do you
want to do it?”

“No.”
Kara could see Maria’s surprise. “I’ll be down soon. I have something I need to
take care of first.”

Maria
turned toward the nursery but said over her shoulder, “Mama sent over some
ravioli. There’s more than enough, even if Wyatt wants to stay, too.”

“Sounds
good.” Kara went inside her office and closed the door.

She
covered her flaming cheeks with her hands, ashamed of herself for hiding out
rather than risk running into Wyatt. But a lot of unfinished business stood
between them with no satisfactory resolution on the horizon. And she didn’t
want to deal with it.

Sitting
down at her desk, she tapped her fingers. It would be foolish and dishonest for
her to deny the desire she felt for him. She even acknowledged to herself that
her feelings for him went beyond lust. But how could she separate her physical
longings from her affection for him without putting herself, her heart, at
risk?

Sighing,
she suspected it was already too late.

With
a tap on the door, she straightened, sensing Wyatt’s presence even before he
spoke.

He
opened the door and waited to speak until she turned toward him. “Maria said
you were home.”

She
struggled to find a smile. “Come in.”

Flinty
eyes searched her face as he stepped inside. She noted not only an absence of
delight, but an unusual coolness as well. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,
thanks.” She touched her fingers to her jaws as if testing. “I’m not up to
eating popcorn yet, but Dr. Conley said everything looked great at my follow-up
today.”

He
nodded. “That’s good.”

Kara
wondered about his restraint. She hadn’t expected him to fall at her feet, but
she’d seen him exchange more intimate conversations with bellmen. Perhaps he
regretted their Valentine’s Day tryst.

“I
wanted to see how you’re doing.”

“I’m
glad you stopped in. I wanted to thank you for your help.”

His
stare sharpened with disapproval. A hand to ward off her gratitude. “Don’t
mention it.”

Ah,
perhaps her recent neediness was what he regretted. He detested
high-maintenance women. “You always say that, but I really am grateful.”

“I
don’t want your damned gratitude any more than you wanted my help.” His voice
lashed out as cold as the sleet glazing her window.

She
studied the muscle twitching in his jaw. “Are you angry with me?”

“Angry?”
he echoed softly. “I wouldn’t say I’m angry so much as freaking furious!” The
sentence ended on a roar.

Kara
flinched, more from the source than from the sentiment. Seldom had anyone
raised their voice at her and never in her own home. And certainly not Wyatt
Freaking-Perfect Maitland.

“Keep
your voice down!” Imagining Maria and Sean running in to check on the
disturbance, Kara hurried to close the door behind him. “Now, sit down and talk
to me like a rational human being.”

Dropping
into a chair beside Kara’s desk, he continued to seethe. “Why didn’t you tell
me you were going to have your damned wisdom teeth removed?”

Kara
frowned. “Why would I? It had nothing to do with you.”

“Oh,
I don’t know.” A semblance of his normal control returned, but Kara could see the
effort it took on his part. “We’re friends, acquaintances, lovers. It might
have come up in conversation.”

“I’m
not in the habit of confiding in you.”

He
sat forward in his chair like a predator intending to pounce. “You don’t trust
me at all, do you?”

She
chewed her bottom lip. Did she trust him? As much as she did anyone. “Yes, of
course, I do.”

“No,
you don’t,” he contradicted. “I used to believe your story about not telling me
about Sean because I had said I didn’t want to be a father. I assumed you did
what you thought was best for all of us. I didn’t think cutting me out of your
life was anything personal. But lately, I’ve come to realize—it is personal.
When you came to Atlanta to get pregnant, you never intended for me to have
anything to do with you or the baby afterward, did you?” His glare pinned her
to her seat, but she didn’t try to look away. “Did you, Kara?”

“No.”
She swallowed, sad to see she’d hurt him with her thoughtless, self-centered
plan. “I thought once I explained the situation, you’d be happy to participate
in the conception and leave the responsibility for the baby to me.”

“Even
now, you’re willing to sleep with me again, but you don’t want to include me in
your life.”

“Especially
now.” She looked out at the ice coating the windowpane. “This is the worst
possible time. I could get hurt, Sean could get hurt.”

Wyatt
swiveled her chair around toward him. “Kara, don’t you know I’d die before I
let anything happen to you or Sean?”

Putting
her hands on his chest, she shoved him away. Fear wrenched the truth from her.
“That’s exactly what happened with Mike, and believe me, it’s no consolation.”

For
a moment, he looked stricken, and then his face softened with compassion. “Oh
God, Kara, is that why you’re so afraid?” He drew her over to the love seat and
sat down beside her, tugging her against his chest. “Tell me.”

Within
the comfort of his arms, she let her pain spill onto him. “I know it’s stupid.
I know it’s irrational. But Sean’s the same age Adam was. It’s the same time of
year. He went somewhere with his father, and they died. I won’t let that happen
again.”

Wyatt
smoothed her hair behind her ear. “That would be too much for anyone to bear.”

If
he had tried to argue or reason with her, she would have defended her position,
but his sympathy left her weak and empty. “You probably think I’m insane.”

His
chin rubbed against her hair as he shook his head. “Not at all.”

“For
a long time afterward, I thought I would die myself. I wanted to.”

He
hugged her tightly.

“Sometimes
I thought if it had just been one of them, I could have stood it. But then I
would be lashed by more guilt, like I could have chosen one over the other.”
She plucked repeatedly at the collar of his shirt.

“Why
did you feel guilty?” He covered her hand with his.

“Because
I was alive and they weren’t.” Her heart convulsed, releasing more of the pain.
“It was all my fault.”

“How?”

“I
should have been the one to pick up Adam, but I was tired or running late or
distracted or something that at the time seemed like a valid excuse, but
wasn’t. Nothing should have been more important to me than picking up Adam from
daycare. We would have taken a different route. Mike would never have been on
that exit ramp if he hadn’t been the one to pick up Adam.” She had thought
these things so many times, but had never said them aloud. She expected her
carelessness to disgust Wyatt, but he turned aside her self-condemnation.

“You’re
tormenting yourself over things beyond your control.”

“I’d
blame Mike instead of myself, but that doesn’t work. How can I blame someone
who’s dead? And I loved him, too. I loved them both. So much.”

“I
know.”

She
pulled back and studied his face. “You don’t know. Stop placating me.”

His
hand on her shoulder offered warmth and consolation. “I’m waiting for you to
reason through it yourself. Maybe talking about it will release some of your
fear and you’ll see that the past and the present are totally unrelated.”