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“We’ll find something for breakfast. Don’t worry.”

And that was precisely what I did—a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice for breakfast. Sure, it wasn’t gourmet dining, but it was nutritious and there was no way I’d wind up sounding the smoke alarm while preparing it.

“Why don’t we go to the fair outside the city today?” I asked as she pushed the cereal around in the milk in her bowl.

She smiled excitedly and delved into her food. Two minutes later, she was dashing down the hall to get ready for the outing. It was only when she came out of her room a short while later that I realized how far she’d come already. She was fully dressed—shorts, T-shirt, a sunhat, and even matching socks—and she’d done it all by herself. The first morning I’d sent her to get dressed—not realizing that four-year-olds needed help with that sort of thing—she’d come back wearing an unzipped, orange dress underneath a purple T-shirt, a red, winter hat, and her pink, fluffy slippers. And I didn’t know until I’d taken her back to her room for a fashion repair that she hadn’t been wearing anything under her dress. The first climb up the stairs to the slide at the park and I would have been burning red in embarrassment.

“You look very pretty, honey,” I told her genuinely now.

“Thank you, daddy. Emma says to pick out my clothes and put them on the bed together. That way I can see if I have ev’rything and I can make sure I like the stuff.”

“That’s very smart advice,” I said, trying not to acknowledge that Emma was probably responsible for a lot of the progress Abby had made in the past several weeks.

“You know, maybe we should go get her and tell her to come with us,” she proposed, less slyly than she might have hoped.

“Not today, kiddo. Remember, Emma had to go back to her house. It’s time for just you and me today,” I said, imbuing so much enthusiasm in my voice I was surprised it didn’t crack like a teenage boy’s.

“OK, I guess,” she replied and took my hand when I offered it to her.

I buckled her into her seat just five minutes later and we were driving out of the city in no time. Of course, if I’d known Abby was going to spend the entire day talking about Emma, I might have brought along a pair of earplugs.

By the time I tucked her into bed the following night, I was seriously worried that Abby had fallen nearly as hard for Emma as I had. I wandered around the house aimlessly, but there was nowhere I could go to escape the memory of her. I’d had her naked and writhing in pleasure in just about every room in the house. Everywhere I turned, my mind conjured up memories. I saw her naked on the living room floor, spreading her legs invitingly. I pictured her bent over the table, her body pushing back against me to draw me to the hilt with every thrust. I remembered her straddling my hips out in the yard, the moonlight highlighting every sexy curve of her body.

And then my mind got crueler; I saw her at the kitchen table, laughing at Abby’s antics; and underneath the slide at the park, comforting my daughter like Abby was her own. And I saw her from Abby’s bedroom door at night when they thought I hadn’t arrived home yet, Emma tucking the covers up beneath Abby’s chin while she sang my daughter a lullaby and stroked her little, blond head.

Damn it! Could it really have all been a show? A niggle of doubt grew bigger, overshadowing the anger I’d felt and the fear that had sent me searching for a way out. Yes…fear. It was embarrassing to admit even to myself, but there it was. I’d never intended to feel what I felt for Emma. After watching both of my own parents spend most of their adult lives going from one relationship to the next, I’d never wanted it. Hell, I think my father had just settled into his fifth marriage, and my mother, just two years ago, her fourth after a bitter divorce from her third.

And yet despite my certainty that I’d never followed in their footsteps, Emma had become…everything I wanted.

But was it possible that she really had no idea about her brother, that her winding up in my home had been a complete coincidence? It was a long shot, but suddenly I couldn’t help but grasp onto it. Unfortunately, if she really hadn’t known about what was going on between my company and Michael’s, then I had a feeling I’d done irreparable damage. If I was being rational, I’d say that was for the best. Even if she hadn’t been in cohorts with her brother, the difficulty both Abby and I had had in parting from her was just proof it had been the right call to send her away regardless. But since I wasn’t the least bit concerned with rational at the moment, I couldn’t help but chastise myself for the fool I’d been.

I walked into her bedroom two days later. I hadn’t set foot in the room since I’d sent her away, and everything was exactly how she’d left it. I had no idea what I was doing there. It wasn’t like I was delusional enough to think she’d miraculously appear there out of thin air. Nevertheless, I wandered about aimlessly. Everything was neat and tidy except for the dress crumpled on the chair by the window. It was a dress I’d torn off her, unable to wait a moment longer to have her naked. Trying to ignore the rush of arousal, I stepped onto the cool marble of the bathroom floor. But when I glanced around, I couldn’t help but remember that first night I’d stood outside her door, imagining her in here.

I spie

d something on the floor by the sink. It caught my attention because it was the only thing out of place in the whole room—she’d really been a tidy houseguest, I thought, smiling to myself. Bending down, I reached out for whatever it was and then I froze.

I knew what it was. God damn it, I knew exactly what it was, and she hadn’t said a fucking word.

I stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind me before I remembered that Abby was fast asleep down the hall.

Abby…I remembered telling Emma how hard it had been to learn I’d had a daughter for four years and never knew about her. She’d looked at me with what I’d thought was genuine sympathy in her beautiful eyes. But how genuine could it possibly have been?

I wasn’t going to wait to find out.

I strode down the hall, down the stairs, and out the front door. Fortunately, I was able to get myself under control enough to arm the security system and grab the portable unit from the foyer. While I would never make a habit of leaving Abby in the house alone, she was fast asleep and the whole house was under surveillance. If she woke up, the intercom would connect her right to me, and was only a few yards away.

The responsible father satisfied, I stormed across the yard and pounded on her front door. But my breath caught in my throat when she opened the door. I hadn’t seen her in days, and despite the anger coursing through my veins, I couldn’t help it. My gaze roamed over her scantily clad body and the desire that shot through my body was almost enough to overwhelm everything else I was feeling. Almost.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to say a word—which was a good thing since the blood supply to my brain was migrating elsewhere. I shoved the test I’d found into her hands, expecting her to gasp in surprise.

But she didn’t gasp, and she didn’t look the least bit surprised. She looked…sad. Was she sad that she was pregnant? Sad that I had found out? Come to think of it, she wore the same expression now as when she’d opened the door. Still, sad or not, how could she have kept this from me after she’d seen firsthand how difficult it had been on Abby and I?

“How could you not tell me?” I asked, gritting my jaw against the wave of emotions that let loose—anger, sadness, betrayal…and underneath it all grief because I had fallen hopelessly in love with this woman and it was obvious by her omission that she wanted nothing to do with me.

“You threw me out of your house for no reason, at least none that I can fathom, and you come demanding to know how I could keep something from you?”

“Damn it, Emma, maybe I was wrong, but you know what I’ve been through with Abby…”


Tags: Nicole Casey Romance