you missing something?”
“A pair of wings. That’s all I need.”
“I was going to say an airplane ticket.”
“That’s the difference between us.”
“The difference between us,”—he leaned toward her and lowered his face, until their lips were a hand-width away—“is that I already picture you with wings.”
As she gasped, a voice called out, “Daddy!”
He jerked back, looking guilty.
So he should feel guilty, Abby thought fiercely. He was flirting with her. Trying to seduce her.
And she was flirting back. Trying to seduce him.
That was the last time she started a conversation with a man by telling him to stay away. Obviously it was a case of wanting what they shouldn’t take and what she couldn’t give.
But his attention was on Cara now, as she padded into the kitchen, her eyes shining, but still too shy and insecure to run to him.
He held out his hand to her, his face different. Serious. As if he knew how fragile she was.
Coming up behind Cara, Grace frowned, her gaze flickering from Abby to him and back. Abby shifted her eyes away from Grace’s. Her sister was old enough to feel the thickness in the atmosphere that happened when two people were shooting off their pheromones, creating a kind of sex soup.
“Good thing I made extra food tonight.” Abby made her voice cheery, but it came out too loud and too forced. “Cara, your dad is joining us for dinner. You know where the plates and silverware are. Do you want to set a place at the table?”
Cara’s flushed, happy face looked much better on a six-year-old than a twenty-eight-year-old, though Abby thought a happy face looked good on everyone. The world’s best beauty secret.
Grace helped Cara set the table, and Abby served the food. The meal was simple: salad and spaghetti. There was plenty for everyone to eat. The conversation was lively with the girls talking about the cats and the dog. Though Cara didn’t talk as much as her and Grace, she kept saying “my kitty,” her face lit with happiness. Abby thought it was almost as if another little girl had taken over her body.
She glanced at Holden. He was frowning, and sudden anger flared inside her. She gripped the paper napkin on her lap, squishing it.
How could he have let this happen to his daughter? He seemed so solid, so trustworthy. How could he have neglected Cara like this?
In that second, he didn’t look sexy to her anymore. With these thoughts inside her head, he wasn’t even a man she liked.
His gaze switched to her, and she glared into his eyes, giving him the silent message that he’d lost her respect.
Yet she didn’t look away. She wanted to ask him Why? How? When? As if there was a good reason for his neglect. The questions too many women asked of men when they did something wrong. Ready to grasp any excuse and say, “Yes, yes, yes, I see.”
But the only good reason for neglect of a child was if you were seriously injured or if you didn’t know about the child.
Or if you were dead.
He was none of those things.
She turned her head away and found it was easy to look away. Not all women would accept lame excuses. Not her.
Anyway, he was engaged, and it was nothing to do with her.
In a little over a week, Cara would be gone. After that, she would have no reason to see him again.
She would count down the days.
A small hand touched her arm, and she looked to her side at Cara, who gazed up at her with concern, as if she saw her unhappiness and was offering comfort.
Abby smiled and bent forward, putting her hand on the side of Cara’s face. Cara leaned into her palm, much like Lion would do. And Abby felt her heart thump hard and steady as if new love poured into it, filling it. Love for this small girl who knew more than she should have about unhappiness.
An urge came over her to tell Cara that she wished she was her daughter, but she clamped her teeth together, holding back the words.
Yet tears burned her eyes as she pushed away her plate with
“A pair of wings. That’s all I need.”
“I was going to say an airplane ticket.”
“That’s the difference between us.”
“The difference between us,”—he leaned toward her and lowered his face, until their lips were a hand-width away—“is that I already picture you with wings.”
As she gasped, a voice called out, “Daddy!”
He jerked back, looking guilty.
So he should feel guilty, Abby thought fiercely. He was flirting with her. Trying to seduce her.
And she was flirting back. Trying to seduce him.
That was the last time she started a conversation with a man by telling him to stay away. Obviously it was a case of wanting what they shouldn’t take and what she couldn’t give.
But his attention was on Cara now, as she padded into the kitchen, her eyes shining, but still too shy and insecure to run to him.
He held out his hand to her, his face different. Serious. As if he knew how fragile she was.
Coming up behind Cara, Grace frowned, her gaze flickering from Abby to him and back. Abby shifted her eyes away from Grace’s. Her sister was old enough to feel the thickness in the atmosphere that happened when two people were shooting off their pheromones, creating a kind of sex soup.
“Good thing I made extra food tonight.” Abby made her voice cheery, but it came out too loud and too forced. “Cara, your dad is joining us for dinner. You know where the plates and silverware are. Do you want to set a place at the table?”
Cara’s flushed, happy face looked much better on a six-year-old than a twenty-eight-year-old, though Abby thought a happy face looked good on everyone. The world’s best beauty secret.
Grace helped Cara set the table, and Abby served the food. The meal was simple: salad and spaghetti. There was plenty for everyone to eat. The conversation was lively with the girls talking about the cats and the dog. Though Cara didn’t talk as much as her and Grace, she kept saying “my kitty,” her face lit with happiness. Abby thought it was almost as if another little girl had taken over her body.
She glanced at Holden. He was frowning, and sudden anger flared inside her. She gripped the paper napkin on her lap, squishing it.
How could he have let this happen to his daughter? He seemed so solid, so trustworthy. How could he have neglected Cara like this?
In that second, he didn’t look sexy to her anymore. With these thoughts inside her head, he wasn’t even a man she liked.
His gaze switched to her, and she glared into his eyes, giving him the silent message that he’d lost her respect.
Yet she didn’t look away. She wanted to ask him Why? How? When? As if there was a good reason for his neglect. The questions too many women asked of men when they did something wrong. Ready to grasp any excuse and say, “Yes, yes, yes, I see.”
But the only good reason for neglect of a child was if you were seriously injured or if you didn’t know about the child.
Or if you were dead.
He was none of those things.
She turned her head away and found it was easy to look away. Not all women would accept lame excuses. Not her.
Anyway, he was engaged, and it was nothing to do with her.
In a little over a week, Cara would be gone. After that, she would have no reason to see him again.
She would count down the days.
A small hand touched her arm, and she looked to her side at Cara, who gazed up at her with concern, as if she saw her unhappiness and was offering comfort.
Abby smiled and bent forward, putting her hand on the side of Cara’s face. Cara leaned into her palm, much like Lion would do. And Abby felt her heart thump hard and steady as if new love poured into it, filling it. Love for this small girl who knew more than she should have about unhappiness.
An urge came over her to tell Cara that she wished she was her daughter, but she clamped her teeth together, holding back the words.
Yet tears burned her eyes as she pushed away her plate with
Similar Books
