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happy, the reason he turned into a martyr who couldn’t love anyone! Bartholomew’s never going to have that feeling if I can help it.”
    Chase was silent. To be truthful, he wasn’t sure how he would have reacted if she’d begged him to marry her and be a proper father to their child. Maybe like a martyr, just as she’d said. Marriage had never figured into his plans. But that didn’t mean he wanted to be kept away from his baby, either. What, exactly, did he want? He wasn’t sure. He’d trained himself not to want much of anything from life so that he was seldom disappointed.
    But he was a father now. He couldn’t drift along and take whatever came his way this time, or he’d lose contact with his son. He needed a plan, but clearheaded planning was difficult while he held Amanda in his arms. Her body pressed against his, the scent of that expensive cologne she wore and the memory of their shared night in the truck cab were working on his imagination. For the first few weeks after the elevator accident, he’d been in too much pain to think about sex, but his back didn’t bother him much now. He’d been dreaming of this woman for ten months, and after her letter had arrived, he’d fantasized with great pleasure about undressing her again and making love to her in the antique four-poster bed next to where they now stood.
    Slowly he released her and stepped back. She looked at him through reddened eyes. He supposed he should have been turned off by her puffy, tear-streaked face. Instead, he wanted to tuck the baby in the cradle and tuck her into bed, with him right alongside her. She had the fullest, most kissable mouth he’d ever seen, and it was parted now, just wide enough to allow his tongue to slip inside. There was an awareness in her eyes, a vulnerability that he recognized from that night in the truck.
    â€œThere’s a blanket in the closet. You can use it as a mattress for the cradle,” he said.
    â€œAll right.” She didn’t move, just kept holding the baby against her shoulder like a shield against the emotion shining in her eyes.
    â€œYou are afraid of me, aren’t you?”
    She swallowed. “Of course not.”
    â€œThen get the blanket and put the baby down.”
    Still she didn’t move.
    Muttering a soft oath, he looked away. “We’re more alike than you think, Amanda. Neither one of us knows what to do about this problem. The difference is that I’ll admit it.” He started for the door, then glanced back at the dog sitting attentively beside Amanda. “I’ll tell Dexter you’re borrowing Chloe for a while.” Then he stepped into the hot sunshine and quickly walked away from the little cottage while he could still resist the seductive light in those blue eyes. He wondered if she realized it was there.
    * * *
    S HE HADN’T EXPECTED to want him so much, Amanda thought as she took a deep breath and turned away from the door. She found the blanket he’d mentioned and arranged it in the cradle with one hand, not willing to put Bartholomew on the floor for even an instant.
    She certainly remembered Chase as a very appealing guy, but she’d always thought his sexual magnetism had been heightened by the novelty of making love in the bunk of an 18-wheeler. Apparently, that hadn’t been the secret of Chase’s attraction for her. Once she’d sobbed out her frustration in his arms just now, she’d become aware of his strong arms wrapped around her. Very aware. Had she not been holding Bartholomew.... But she had been, and that had helped her focus.
    Chase had told her he was a rambler, a lone wolf, proud of the fact he had no strings to tie him down. He’d even had The Drifter stenciled on his truck cab as a general bulletin of the fact. She’d worked hard to create a secure niche with her job and her career-oriented friends. Her parents boasted about her all