"It would depend on how I felt about the mother."
"You'd judge a child based on her mother?"
"Of course not," he said, staling into the most beautifully expressive eyes he'd ever seen. "My delight would only intensify if I happened to love the mother, as well."
He wasn't sure of her reaction to his answer. She continued to speak to him with her eyes, but there were so many messages—mixed messages—he couldn't decipher what she meant. And she wasn't saying a word.
"You remember me telling you about my lack of closeness to my mother?" he asked, waiting for her confirmation before he went on.
"When I was growing up, there were many nights she didn't come home, and I used to lie in my bed and dream about the family I'd be part of someday." Her eyes filled with the same compassion that had attracted him the night of his mother's death. "From the time I was a very young child, I knew what kind
TARA TAYLOR QUINN
of parent I wanted to be, what kind of parent I will be if I ever get the opportunity."
She blinked. And looked away. He couldn't figure her out at all. Why did he get the feeling that his wanting to be a good parent was a bad thing? "I will never have a child of mine wondering who his or her father is, and never will he or she have one second's doubt about how much I love him." He paused, took a breath. "Or her."
Jamie remained silent. Studying the napkin she was folding neatly in front of her.
"And why is it that you have such an intense effect on me?" he asked, only half joking. "I go thirty-two years without spilling my guts to anyone… except once."
She glanced up.
"With you, five years ago."
Pushing her napkin aside, she continued to watch him. "So why have you never married if children mean so much to you?"
"I couldn't find you," Kyle said, more serious than she'd ever know.
"What's the real reason?"
He'd just given it to her. "I never met a woman I was thrilled about spending the rest of my life with."
"So you're looking for a big thrill, huh?" She smiled at him, teasing, but the glow was gone from her eyes.
"Sure. Aren't you?"
"I'm not looking."
The words were meant as a warning. A warning
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Kyle had no intention of heeding. Not because he was some kind of stalker jerk, set on pursuing a woman who didn't want him. But because he had a very strong suspicion, an intuition that wouldn't be ignored, that she needed him, maybe even more than he needed her. He couldn't explain the feeling. He just knew there was something very special between him and Jamie. Something he couldn't walk away from.
CHAPTER NINE
Ignoring her conscience wasn't something Jamie did well, but she was giving it her best shot. Still busy with her extra tax clients, plus all her year-round accounts, trying to take on a little extra where the care of the girls was concerned, she'd also signed Ashley up for dance lessons. The child was to have her first class that next week and was so excited she could hardly fall asleep at night.
And whenever Jamie's conscience managed to yell loudly enough to be heard through all that ruckus, she muffled it by immersing herself in plans for Kyle's party
. The dean and his wife v*ere going to be there. Some of her other tax clients were gr)ing to be there, too. She wanted them all to be very impressed.
Of course, it wasn't as if they were going to know about her part in the shindig. Or as if she'd even be attending. Still, she didn't want the people she was fond of not to have a good time. Or so she kept telling herself as she ran around town shopping and looking for ideas. She'd hired the caterer—one of her clients—chosen the menus, been to the florist and visited the craft store more times than she could count. Her desk was currently sharing space with
HER SECRET, HIS CHILD
piles of books and various Styrofoam-backed posters of blown-up covers. By Wednesday afternoon, the only thing left to plan was the program. And for that, unfortunately, she needed Kyle's help. He should've been out of class almost half an hour earlier and hadn't yet returned to his office, where she'd been waiting for him. Jamie had finally asked the division secretary where Kyle's class was held and, having trekked across campus, was just reaching the room. Sure enough, just as she'd suspected, he was still there. She recognized his voice, despite the closed door.