Another Woman's Son (Harlequin Romance) (13 page)

“Don’t sound possessive.”

He looked at her, his lips moist, forbidden. “You make me feel possessive.”

Tension poured into the silence between them. “Why did you have to talk?” Easing away, Isabel re-buttoned her sweater. Ben tried to smooth his hair with his hands, but she’d mussed it so well she had to help him. “Do I look like you?”

His lips thinned. “How do I look?”

“As if I’ve been trying to tear your hair out.”

“You didn’t pull.” Half a smile relaxed his face. “Why have you been so distant lately?”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone. I keep thinking of Will and Faith. Did they feel like this?”

“You and I are not married. Will and Faith should have divorced us both before they started sleeping together. They cheated. We are not cheating on them now.” He adjusted the knot of his tie, which she’d
twisted. “And don’t accuse me of trying to pay them back, because I never thought once about them. I think about you nearly twenty-four disturbing hours a day. Every time you walk into my house and look at me with that careful, detached expression, I want to make you whimper with the hunger that won’t let me sleep at night.”

She could hardly hear over the beating of her own heart. “You know how you always say I can’t hide my feelings? When I look at you I want your hands on me. I want to touch you.” She closed her eyes, still aroused by his hands. “I dream of you at night, Ben, if I sleep at all.”

“Let’s do something about it.” He stroked the curve of her throat.

Her body was painfully sensitive. “I can’t. How would we explain an affair to my parents? And besides, I had a plan. Whether I mean to or not, I keep letting you get in my way.”

“What’s your plan?” He twined his fingers with hers. “Tell me.”

She’d adapted her behavior to Will’s moods for years. When he got angry, she’d grown anxious, but she didn’t fear the faint glitter in Ben’s eyes. “I faxed out my résumé, and I have a job interview.”

His genuine smile made her feel better at once. Ben was pleased for her. “Where? Are you looking forward to it?”

“Yeah—and how many people look forward to a
job interview? I should be scared. My skills seem sparse, but I’m going to convince an advertising agency that I’m good enough to hire.”

“For?”

“Writing copy.”

“Sort of like lying for the company cause, huh?”

She grinned. “I hate it in my personal life, but I’m aching for a chance to do it for a living.”

“Come on.” He helped her put on her coat. “We have to go, or we’ll miss the start.”

He took her hand as they walked down the porch steps. Immediately, she thought, what if someone sees us? Who could, in the darkness outside her house? And why shouldn’t she lean into Ben’s shoulder? For these few moments, they were a man and woman, on the verge of an emotional commitment. Bad marriages had denied them loyalty they could believe in until neither knew how to accept love anymore. Ben seemed as astonished as she that someone else could need him.

Nevertheless, when he started the car, she turned to him. “I have to ask you something.”

“Not tonight, Isabel.” He glanced at her, his face in shadows. “Not when all I can think is how much I want you back in my arms.”

“I want that, too, but listen to me.”

“Come on, Isabel.”

“Ben, when you’re watching Tony tonight, take a look at my mom and dad. See if you don’t find lying hard.”

“Tony’s my son. George and Amelia are part of our family, but Tony is
my
son.”

“Okay.” In the back of her mind lay the knowledge that a court might look even more unfavorably on Ben when he admitted he’d hidden the truth to keep her parents from taking Tony. She’d known since before Will and Faith’s accident, and she wanted to speak up, but she couldn’t choose her parents over Ben or Ben over them.

They left the car at the community center. Isabel walked fast, distracted by her misgivings. Ben caught up with her and put his arm around her shoulders. “Come on, Iz-bell. Be my friend.”

“Don’t ‘Iz-bell’ me.” But she smiled back as she put her arm around his waist.

“Hold on to me.”

“Everything’s changed,” she said.

“I know.” He leaned his cheek against her hair. “Sorry.”

“Are you?” She looked up, needing the familiarity of his features. Instead, she saw a new man, even stronger than she’d known him, sexy and generous.

“No.” He searched the trickle of people also headed for the building. “I’m glad I can feel this way about anyone. I’m a little startled it’s you who makes me feel it, but I’m lucky, too. You’re my best friend, and yet I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any woman in my life.”

He said it simply. Words like those should have
some sort of accompaniment—music, cannons. She lifted her face, searching for the sky beyond the waving, clawlike branches and clouds scudding across a sliver of moon. Maybe a February storm would do.

She tried to pull away, but Ben wouldn’t let her go. He didn’t demand an answer, but he wouldn’t free her, either.

T
EN SECONDS
into Tony’s song, Ben understood what Isabel had been trying to tell him. The small class of toddlers belted out their number, each at a separate tempo. They all seemed to think they were performing dance solos, too. Through laughter, he fought off tears. Tony had both small hands wrapped around his father’s soul.

He looked at Amelia beside him and George, just beyond. Amelia cried without noticing, and George sniffed so hard he could barely hold up his head.

They loved Tony, too. As much as he did?

No.

He’d draped his overcoat across his lap. Startling him, Isabel’s hand slid onto his thigh. She refused to look at him, but when he put his hand beneath the coat, too, she let him link their fingers. She held on tight. She, who kept trying to push him away.

How could he tell the Deavers the truth? How could Isabel expect him to tell them? A father naturally loved his son more than anyone else could.

But George and Amelia, missing their older
daughter, brittle as two shells washed up on a beach—maybe they deserved better.

He’d deserved better. And so had the fierce, lovable and loving woman at his side.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

“He’s wonderful, Ben.” Amelia leaned into his shoulder. “I may be partial, but I believe he’s the handsomest boy up there. He looks so much like Faith.”

Bitterness hit Ben. “I think I’m in him, too,” he said, his first outright lie.

He looked more closely at his son. Restlessness had dulled Faith’s green eyes. Life gleamed from Tony. Happiness Ben wasn’t sure he’d ever known, which only fortified his determination to cherish his son and keep him safe.

He leaned toward Isabel. “You’re right, but I can’t help it. Look at him and tell me you could do it.”

“I can’t.” Unshed tears soaked her voice.

If only they were alone.

That thought repeated in his head as the children from the other classes sang and he and Isabel held hands beneath his coat like teenagers. It blared as if he were hearing the words out loud as the family shared the after-event snack of fruit juice and cookies.

He thought only about being alone with Isabel as he watched Amelia hug her with maternal affection that wrenched his heart out and threw it to the ground beside his car.

“I’m so glad you came,” Amelia said. “You’d have been sorry to miss his first school show.”

Isabel’s lips trembled.

If only he could be alone with her.

“Night, Iz-bell.” Tony lifted his arms and Isabel hugged him so hard she probably snapped a couple of ribs. He only giggled and hugged back.

“I’m coming with you, nut,” she said, and then went back to her mother. “Night. Thanks for keeping after me about this.”

Ben ducked inside the car to help Tony. By the time he climbed out to say good-night to Amelia and George, Isabel was heading to the passenger side, wiping her eyes so her mascara wouldn’t run.

“I worry about her,” Amelia said, low-voiced. “She’s pining for something. I guess it’s Will and Faith.”

“I guess,” Ben said. His second lie. “But she’ll get better.”

“With time.” George surprised Ben with a shot of philosophy. He took his wife’s arm. “Let’s get back to the condo, honey. Time I put my feet up, and Tony needs his sleep.”

They called good-nights over the rushing wind and the sprinkles of rain that had begun to pelt the pavement like thumbtacks thrown to the ground.

Tony fell asleep as soon as Ben started the car. Isabel turned so she could look at him. She didn’t say anything, but Ben sensed her uncertainty. At her
house, she leaned across the seat for a quick kiss that set the blood pounding in his temples. He couldn’t even answer her whispered good-night.

Tony slept on as they reached home. He didn’t wake as Ben hummed the song his son had chanted all over the house for the past two weeks. Ben changed him into pajamas and tucked him into bed.

Afterward, he washed the leftover dinner dishes and started a load of laundry. He put newspapers in the recycling bin and then wandered his house, too restless to sit, too anxious about Isabel to think about the late news or the book he’d started a few days ago.

If only they could be alone for an hour or two.

While he drank milk from the carton in the fridge, he stared at the list of names Faith had put on the door. She’d allowed no other clutter in her house, but she’d posted a list of emergency numbers and baby-sitters.

Including the college girl who’d watched Tony overnight when he and Faith had gone out of town. They hadn’t used her for a year or more. She might be out of college. She might not babysit anymore.

She lived a few houses down the street.

He dialed her number.

She was in her last year. She still babysat, and she understood a single Dad’s sudden need to leave his house. She assumed he had an unexpected overnight business trip. He didn’t explain, but when she arrived with a canvas bag over her shoulder, he gave her his
cell number and insisted she call if Tony needed him at all.

Then he thought twice, three times, ten times before he pulled away from his house. Need—absolute longing for Isabel—overcame common sense. He drove through lightning and pounding rain without calling to warn her he was on his way.

Rain soaked him as he got out of the car. He ran up the porch steps and rang her doorbell before he reminded himself his son should be his only priority. He had no time to think about any woman, even Isabel.

She opened the door. Rather, the wind blew it open in her hands. Rain rushed inside.

“Ben, where’s Tony?”

“At home, with an all-night sitter.” He stepped inside and shut the door to drip on her floor. “Come with me.”

She glanced down at her flared thermal pajama pants and a thin-strapped top that hugged her lush, round breasts. “Where?”

“Anywhere but here or my house. Anywhere you never spent a night with Will.”

She looked shocked. She hadn’t been asleep. A woman didn’t achieve her hollow cheeks and dark-circled eyes on regular sleep.

And still she was too beautiful to believe. He’d held her, kissed her, but he wanted her more with every passing moment.

“Come, Isabel.”

“What would it mean?” Her challenge surprised him. He hadn’t been sure she’d consider staying with him.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe you’ll just let me hold you, but if I don’t share a night with you I may lose my mind.”

“Tony’s all right for the whole night?”

He only looked at her. As if he’d leave his son in danger.

“I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you want to do?” he asked.

She rubbed her face with her hands and then clasped them in front of her. No smile. She was obviously no more sure than he that staying together tonight would be right. “There is a place.”

“Where you and Will didn’t go?”

“Where Will refused to go.”

At last he couldn’t help smiling. She understood. “Perfect.”

“I’ll change clothes.”

“Just get your coat. I’m fine with what you have on.”

“You won’t be in the morning when you have to look at this ensemble across a breakfast table.” She started up the stairs. “I’ll call while I pack.”

“Call who?” he asked, following her.

“A friend from several of my committees owns a B and B just over the Maryland line. She won’t ask questions, and she told me once they keep one room open for just-in-case.”

“In case what?” He stopped at the main bedroom, but she continued to the door at the end of the hall. “Where are you going?”

“I sleep in here,” she said.

“Good.” She no longer slept in the bed she’d shared with Will, and he was glad. As glad as a barbarian whose woman had chosen him.

“W
HERE DID YOU TELL
the sitter you were going?” Isabel asked as the storm buffeted his car.

“I didn’t. She has my cell phone number.” Maybe he should have had her test his phone.

“What if Amelia or George calls?”

“This late at night? You’re looking for reasons to back out.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess they might offer me a reason or two.”

“You want me to take you home, Isabel?”

Silence. Then, “No.”

She sounded startled. A little stunned himself, he gave her time to let the truth sink in. But that test phone call weighed on his mind. He’d never been Tony’s single parent before. He worried for two. “Would you call my cell?”

“Huh?”

“Just to make sure it’s working.”

Laughing, she dug her own phone out of her purse. “I lo— Like a good dad.”

He ignored her stumble. Once “I love you” had
gone without saying. Now those words had changed for them. His phone rang. “Thanks.” He hit the talk button and then hit End. “Are you nervous, Isabel?”

“Nearly terrified.”

Her confession eased the knot in his gut. “I’m glad I’m not the only one.”

“We don’t have to go through with it. We can still turn around.”

He didn’t even slow down as they approached the interstate ramp. “Where to?” If she wanted him to take her back, he would.

After the barest second, she pointed at the big green sign above the exit lane. “Fletcher’s Crossing.”

Both relieved and yet concerned they were making an unforgivable mistake, he turned down the ramp. He glanced at her, but for once, he couldn’t catch a glimpse of her thoughts.

She occupied all his. Tonight made him feel responsible. Will had broken her trust. After Faith, he’d thought he might never risk being with anyone he could love again. But Isabel had told him they would both trust. She wanted the family Will had denied her.

Ben’s mouth went dry. If he was wrong about his growing feelings for Isabel, he could hurt the woman who mattered most in his life.

“You’re the one who looks as if you’d like to turn back, Ben.”

“We’ve come too far. What time do you have to be in D.C. tomorrow?”

“Two-fifteen.”

That took care of small talk until Isabel pointed to a sign that looked like a bouquet of trees wrapped in flowered ribbon.

“Not too manly,” he said. Tension made him feel like a coward.

“I’ve stayed here before. The amenities make up for the frills.”

“Amenities?”

“A whirlpool tub for two in every room.” She stopped on a short breath as if she hadn’t meant to sound so pleased.

He gripped the steering wheel. How did a man drive a roller coaster? “I shouldn’t take that as an invitation?”

“I’ve always soaked with a book.” She crossed her arms. “It might have been more responsible to bring a library tonight.”

He parked in front of a wide, quaint porch. “You won’t need a single volume.”

Her laughter felt as warm as water. She didn’t wait for him to open her door. They both got out and met, running up the steps.

Inside, the proprietor, Cleo Murphy, greeted Isabel with unfeigned affection, but then eyed him with mistrust. He didn’t blame her, but he smiled, hoping to assure her he wouldn’t harm Isabel.

“Are your bags in the car?” Cleo asked. “I’ll have them brought up.” She handed Isabel a key. “Your favorite room is open. We hardly have any guests. Call in the morning when you want breakfast.”

Ben followed Isabel up the thick-carpeted stairs and into the room she opened. She stood aside, looking anxious again as the plank floor creaked beneath their feet.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said.

She lifted her head in a less-than-sanguine nod.

A massive four-poster dominated the room. Flowers dripped from the wallpaper. He scratched his arm. He sure didn’t fit the setting. He was tempted to open the window and let in some air a man could breathe. But the room probably had less to do with the constriction in his chest than Isabel, close enough to touch, with no one to interrupt them.

“Excuse me,” said a voice behind them.

Ben turned to let in a college kid. The boy set their small bags on a bench in front of the bed. Ben dug loose bills out of his pocket to tip the kid. The boy looked so surprised Ben had to wonder what kind of folding money he’d handed over.

“Good night.” The kid pulled the key out of the lock and set it on a dresser next to the door. “Call the desk if you need anything.”

The second the door shut, Isabel giggled. “You must have set up his college fund.”

“Yeah.” He gave the window a last, longing
look. “Does Cleo know you well enough to know about Will?”

“She knows we’d split. And she was never Will’s biggest fan. Like I said, he refused to come here.” She unbuttoned her coat and hung it in the closet.

Then she came back and started on his shirt buttons as if they’d made love a million times. As simple as that.

He stopped her. “I don’t want you to take care of me.”

She looked up, somber. Then she lifted his hands and kissed the backs of his knuckles. His heartbeat thundered. Isabel actually made him dizzy.

“I never did this for anyone else,” she said. And finished.

Her attentive touch excited him unbearably. After she’d pulled his shirt out of his trousers, she stepped back. In jeans and a zip-up sweater, she kicked off her shoes and sprawled across the bed.

“Join me,” she said. “We can talk. If nothing else happens, it’s what was meant.”

“You don’t understand what you do to me?”

She took on the soft look she had when he kissed her. “Come over here and maybe you’ll show me,” she said.

He kicked off his shoes, too, and lay down facing her. “We’ve never shared a bed.”

“No.” Her wistful smile made that seem like a mistake.

He reached for the zipper on her sweater and pulled it—a little—enough to see more of her breasts than he’d ever seen. Her fullness went to his head. His courage failed. She’d been his best friend’s wife.

He put Will out of his head. Isabel slid her hand behind her back, offering herself.

He studied her. “Why aren’t you nervous?”

“Look closer.” She propelled the zipper a little farther. Her pulse trembled against the pale blue bra he could see straight through. Specks of silver in the material shimmered against her skin with each beat of her heart.

He leaned forward, pressing his tongue to the material that felt surprisingly rough, startlingly sexy. Her deep breath only whet his appetite. He pulled the zipper far enough to bare her. He couldn’t wait to take the bra off.

Isabel sat up and pulled her arms out of the sweater, smiling at him with temptation in the curve of her mouth. She rolled onto her back, and he followed, chasing his way with kisses to her nipple. Moisture from his own mouth wet his cheek, as if he’d marked her. He liked her being his.

“Ben,” she said, holding his face where she wanted him to kiss. With his hands and his mouth, he stroked her breasts, his excitement rising with hers. Finally, when he couldn’t stand waiting one more second, he reached beneath her and undid the catch and then threw the flimsy garment off the bed.
Kissing her bare flesh made him groan with pleasure.

She tasted so good. Spicy and warm and clean and eager for him, her voice catching in short, sharp breaths. She wrapped her legs around his waist in a not-so-subtle plea for more. He lifted his head and found her mouth, pouring his hunger inside her, begging her to need him as much as he craved her. Yearned for her.

Her hands shook as she pushed his shirt off his shoulders. He struggled out of it. They both sighed as he lowered himself, indulging in the thrust of her breasts against his bare chest.

Skin to skin. Too good. Too good to believe.

“I forgot something,” she said, her mouth near his ear, making him shudder.

“I didn’t, but it’s in my coat.” He’d remembered protection at the last minute.

“I don’t want you to get up.” To make moving difficult, she kissed the center of his throat. The tip of her tongue teased him, and she breathed kisses across his chest. Her tongue here, her breath there.
Yes, there again.

She laughed and he realized he’d spoken out loud.

He laughed, too, but stopped when she circled his nipple with her lips. Selfish in his need, he pulled her against his chest. She didn’t seem to mind. As her mouth made him desperate, her hands went to his belt.

“Sit up,” she said. She straightened, too, intent on his troublesome buckle, unaware of her bare breasts, pink from his attentions, inviting his hands. He loved the push of her against his palm, but he wanted to see her fingers at his waist.

Her hair fell forward, blocking his view. He pushed it behind her ears, kissing her forehead, but her scent distracted him. He caught her face again, breathing her in as he kissed her.

“I want the smell of you on my skin,” he said. “When I dream, your scent is all around me.”

With a soft, so-provocative moan, she opened her mouth for his tongue. Somehow they ended up against the pillows, his pants half-off, but she still wore too many clothes. He unbuttoned her jeans, and she unzipped them. He pulled them off, letting his own pants fall. He kicked them away, and went to his coat to take out the condoms.

When he came back to her, she was smiling.

“What?” He dropped the packets beside her and lay across her thighs, pressing a possessive hand to her belly.

“Boxers. I love boxers.” She slid her index finger into the waistband, nearly causing him to choke on an indrawn breath.

“Don’t do that without warning.” He teased her with his own fingertips beneath the brief band of elastic at her hips.

“Don’t do this?” She slid her hand farther, tilting
him against her. It wasn’t enough, but much stronger pressure and he doubted his own control.

He shifted so he could reach her nipples again, finally licking her breastbone all the way to her navel. Her panties peeled off.

He rose above her and then lay within the cradle of her legs, mimicking the motions of making love to her, easing his own fierce need for a few concentrated moments. Moisture at her temples tasted salty.

“I keep having this urge to thank you,” he said between kisses.

“For?”

“How good it feels to lie against you like this, how generous you are.”

“Generous? I couldn’t have lived much longer without making love to you.” She let him see how much she needed him. “You seem to feel the same.”

“Oh, yeah.” He lingered over her swollen lips. “You’re a gift I’m not sure I deserve.” He lifted himself and she opened her legs, just enough. He pulled away.

“We’d better…” He didn’t finish, but she picked up one of the small packages and opened it.

“Lie back,” she said.

He let her put the condom on, but he had to clench his fingers in the bedclothes to keep from wrenching her hands away from him. With a voluptuous sigh, she finally straddled him and lowered herself. Not too much. Teasing him.

He met her, barely hanging on to his slipping control. Isabel closed her eyes and let her fingers drift down his chest, bumping over his nipples till he thought he might explode with strain.

“Look at me,” he said.

She obviously tried, but her languid gaze was as potent as her sensual back-and-forth on him. “I know who you are,” she said, straight to the point. “I know who I’m with.”

“Don’t look away.” He slid his hands around the curve of her bottom and deepened the stroke that made them both breathe in. Isabel’s eyelids drifted again. “Don’t,” he said.

“I’m self-conscious, Ben. It’s too much.”

“Uh-huh.”

Smiling, she leaned back and trailed her hands up his thighs. “I only want to be with you. No one else will intrude tonight.”

“Or ever.” He only heard the words after he said them, after he caught the nape of her neck and pulled her close enough to kiss. He lost himself in her taste and took control, pushing her and then pulling back when her cries began to crescendo.

His own body, traitorous with pleasure, nearly betrayed him. He held her still above him, but she still managed to rock—enough to startle them both with her sudden, unexpected release. With a cry, she doubled over and took his mouth.

Silently she demanded he give in. He’d never
realized a woman could match his own passion without trying to hide her feelings as weakness. He submitted—freely.

Her kiss, all woman, all need, dragged him over the edge.

It went on and on. She never closed her eyes. They stared at each other as time and pleasure stretched and slowly, oh so slowly, subsided. At last, when he realized her forearms were shaking beside his shoulders, he pulled her down, onto his chest.

Her heart throbbed against his. Their breathing was a ragged accompaniment to the intimacy they’d created. Intimacy Faith had said he couldn’t give her. He didn’t want to think about Faith.

“Can we sleep like this for a little while?” Isabel asked, her voice so sexy he wanted her again.

“Mmm-hmm.” If he said any more, he might say, “I love you.” He felt the words, but he’d just made the best love he’d ever known—with Isabel, of all women.

They both had to be able to trust that words like those didn’t just spring from the moment.

R
UNNING WATER
.

Isabel opened her eyes. The room was dark, but light from the bathroom spilled in an arc that made shadows of a desk and a divan. Ben appeared, naked in the doorway. She frowned. What he needed was light in front of him.

Heat rushed over her at such an indelicate thought. He knelt at the edge of the bed. She lifted her face for the swift touch of his lips.

“You’re awake,” he said.

“What are you doing?”

“Hoping the house is soundproofed.” He looked back. “We’d better not use the jets.”

“What time is it?”

“Don’t look at the clock.”

“Don’t look at the clock. Don’t close my eyes.” She yawned, satisfaction easing every sinew. “You’re pretty bossy.”

“You’re just pretty. No.” He pushed her hair off her face and kissed her cheeks, her eyes, her temples. “Beautiful, in every way.”