Borrowed Baby (13 page)

Her knowing, smug tone got to him. What made her think she had all the answers? "You're just supposed to look after my niece, not me."

"Yes, sir."

She was infuriating, exasperating, and he wanted to make love to her all night long. She was making him feel for the first time in a long time. And the strangest thing of all was that he didn't seem to mind. "I don't need taking care of."

"No,sir."

Her solemn tone broke the tension and he laughed. He put his arms around her. "Why do I get the distinct impression that you're only humoring me and intend to go on doing what you damn well please?"

She turned her face up to his. "Because you're not as dumb as you try to sound, sir."

"Oh, Liz, Liz, what in the world am I going to do with you?"

"Many suggestions come to mind," she said softly. "Trust me, is one." He stiffened ever so slightly, but she felt it nonetheless. Still too raw? she wondered.

Even if I were willing, he thought, I can't. "You're asking a lot."

Liz ran her hands along the front of his shirt. She felt his heart beneath her fingertips. If only she could make it open up to her. "I know, but I'm willing to give a lot."

He took her hands in his to stop her. The touch of her fingers along his skin made it hard for him to concentrate. "I said no strings, Liz."

She pretended to look around. "I don't see any lassos lying around."

"You've already got me tied up in knots." He had no idea what made him admit that. She had some sort of power over him that seemed to supersede his own.

"Tell me more. This is beginning to sound good."

A man could wander into that smile of hers and get himself very lost with no effort at all. He was beginning to believe that had happened to him. "Hog-tied and lassoed. You're turning me every which way but loose."

She shook her head. "It's not me who's doing it. It's you. No one can do anything to you that you won't let them do."

The smile on his face slowly turned bitter as he remembered glints of memories from the past. Horrible memories that were better off buried. "Maybe you're right at that. Then I shouldn't let it happen again." I won't risk wanting love, he added silently.

What had happened to him to make him so bitter? "I think it would only be fair if you told me just what it is that's standing between us. An ex-lover? An ex- wife? What?" The teasing tone had left her voice. "Griff, please, I have to know."

He looked away and she.swòre he was trying to regain control.

"It's nothing that simple."

If it wasn't a woman, then what was it? Tell me. Griff, please tell me.

When he looked down at her face, he saw the hurt in her eyes, saw the questions there. Without thinking, he hugged her to him. God, he wished he could open up. But that part of him was damaged. "Why don't you have a lover?"

"What!" She twisted back and stared at him.

Griff ran his fingers through the tips of her hair. "Why aren't you ugly? Why do you have to prey on my mind so much?"

She smiled warmly, relaxing. "Do I? Do I really?"

"Yes." He traced the curve of her cheek lightly. "Really."

"Go on, this is getting better."

He shook his head. "Just for one of us."

What would it take to make him trust her? To make Griff feel the way she did? "Why are you so afraid of feeling?"

"Because it costs," he answered honestly. "Costs too damn much."

"Everything costs. It costs not to feel. The payment is loneliness."

"I can handle that," he said flatly.

"Can you?"

"Yes," he said quietly. "I can handle loneliness and despair. I've gotten used to the despair. I don't mind it enshrouding my days." His eyes touched her face, memorizing it, making love to it. "I don't want to hope, to build again. Don't you understand, Liz? If I let you in, then someday I'll have to suffer the pain of letting you go."

"Oh, Griff," she cried softly, "I already am in."

He seized her back into his arms and kissed her with all the passion in his soul. He knew that what she said was true. But rather than admit it, he blotted out his thoughts with the feel of her mouth against his.

In his mind he swore, at her, at himself, at everything in his past that had made him the way he was, trapped him behind a mesh wall that refused to let his emotions out.

Anger, passion, need. What was he feeling? She didn't know. She didn't care. He was reacting to her and that was all that mattered. With so little effort, he took possession of her body and soul. She gave it willingly.

And then he was pulling away again. She almost cried out to stop him. It cost her not to. But she didn't.

He put his hands on her shoulders, as much to steady himself as to keep her back. ''Liz, I think you'd be better off if—"

"I served dinner before it burned," she filled in quickly.

There was denial in his eyes. She wasn't going to let him shut her out of his life, not after she had come so far. She wasn't going to let him tell her to go away. She had pushed too hard this time. So be it. She could wait. There'd be other openings, and perhaps it would be easier for him to tell her some other time.

It wasn't easy, but she pretended as if nothing had happened just now, as if her soul hadn't been on fire with need. Busying herself at the stove, she managed to buy some time to pull her emotions together.

When she turned around, her expression was sunny. "Listen, I've been meaning to ask you." She set down a huge bowl of spaghetti in the center of the small table. "Have you found a doctor for Casie?"

"No. Why? She's not sick." Avoiding her eyes, he helped himself to a serving of pasta.

The man knew nothing. "Babies need a pediatrician for well-baby checkups."

That didn't make any sense to him. "If they're well, why do they—?"

She sat down to join him. "Shots, Foster. They need preventive shots. Did your sister tell you anything about the care Casie's had?" She carefully ladled out some sauce, but her mind was a million miles away from food.

"No." He saw the disapproving look on Liz's face. "Look, I don't want to talk about my sister."

Her temper flared. "I know. There's not a heck of a lot you do want to talk about, but I think we should at least discuss Casie." She bit her lip. "Sorry. I didn't mean to blow up like that. I always get emotional when I make pasta."

She broke the tension and he laughed. "Liz, if they could bottle you—"

She leaned her head on an upturned palm as if she were giving him her undying attention. "Yes?"

He pulled back a lock of her hair that threatened to find its way into the sauce. "Then maybe I could take you in small doses. Anyway, you're right. I should get a doctor for her. Will you help me?"

"Sure. Griff, you know what?"

"What?"

"You didn't choke on the word help this time. I think we're beginning to make real progress here despite your pigheadedness."

He pushed her plate toward her. "Eat your pasta."

"Yes, sir."

Liz found a highly recommended pediatrician for Casie the next day and took it upon herself to make an appointment. She informed Griff about it when he came to pick Casie up that evening.

He stared at her. Didn't this woman ever stop steamrolling through his life? "Didn't you even think of asking me?"

She slipped a jacket on Winston. His mother would be coming to pick him up any minute. "Why?" She looked up from where she was kneeling on the floor. "Yesterday you didn't even know she needed shots. How were you going to make a decision on whether or not I chose the right doctor?"

Winston tugged free and went back to playing GI Joe with Bruce and Alee, one sleeve of his jacket dangling behind him.

 Liz held up her hand and Griff took it, helping her up with a tug that was anything but gentle. "I'm talking about the appointment, not the doctor."

She brushed off her knees. Cookie crumbs sprinkled back onto the carpet. Time to vacuum again. "Can't you get time off from work?"

"Yes, I can, but—"

"But what?" She had a hunch she knew what the problem was, but she wasn't going to make it any easier on him. In her opinion, she had made things just about as easy as she was going to. He had to do a little bridging here if anything was to work between them.

He looked down, contemplating his words. How to ask without making it seem as if he needed her? Damn, it seemed that he needed her more and more for all those little things that concerned Casie. For all the little things that concerned him.

"Come with me." The words were fairly growled out.

"Is that an order?"

"No," he said tersely. "That's a request."

"Well, since you asked so nicely." She patted his cheek. "I wouldn't have dreamed of letting you go alone, anyway."

But Liz had said that the appointment was for early tomorrow morning. She had all these children to take care of. "Do we have to take them?" He gestured around to encompass the roomful of boys.

She grinned. "It might guarantee us faster service, but I think I can prevail on a friend to watch them for tomorrow."

"That must be some friend."

Cries of outrage suddenly rose as Bruce and Alec began rolling around on the floor, both trying to maintain their hold on the object of contention: a baseball glove. Griff took a few steps toward them. Liz watched, curious. He crouched over the boys, a darkly disapproving scowl on his face.

The boys sprang apart immediately without uttering a single word in protest. The glove remained on the floor. Winston dashed by and scooped it up.

"She's not all that altruistic. I take over her kids on occasion when she's strapped. She runs a day care, too. From the looks of it, both of us could take a few lessons from you." She nodded toward the two boys. Both were docilely coloring now, the picture of good manners.

"Discipline is about the only thing I could teach."

"Oh—" she took hold of his shirtfront and ran her hand along it softly, her eyes saying words that she couldn't at the moment "—I don't know about that."

She could summon urges from thin air and make, him ache for her just like that, he thought. But then, she had help. His mind had turned on him as well as his body. More and more he began to entertain the idea that perhaps, just perhaps, he could feel, could let himself go. He could cross over into that land that Liz held out to him, a land of love and caring.

At least, it might be worth a try.

"Then you can come with me? "

She bent over to pick Casie up out of the playpen. "Wild horses wouldn't keep me away. Besides, I owe it to Casie." She patted the baby's bottom. Good. Dry.

He picked up his niece's jacket and held it out to Liz. "Care to explain that?"

"If I let you loose with her at the doctor's office, you might punch him out when he makes her cry—and they're all guaranteed to cry during their first encounter with the good doctor. Here. Hold her."

He positioned the baby so that Liz could slip on her jacket. "That's ridiculous. I would not punch him out."

The smug look she gave him told him she knew better.

Maybe she did at that, he thought not altogether grudgingly. Maybe she did know better. About a lot of things.

Chapter Ten

“You're dead!"

" Am not, you are. I got you."

"You can't get anyone when you're dead!"

"MAAAA!"

"I'm so sorry," a dark-haired woman mumbled to Griff as she ushered her two sons away from his chair and to another part of the doctor's waiting room.

"I'm sure she is," Griff said to Liz, eyeing the two towheaded boys. If they were cats, he was certain there would be fur flying right about now.

"Probably, but it has its rewards." Liz looked at him knowingly.

He didn't bother answering. Instead, he went on flipping through the magazine he held. Not a single word registered. She was right. It did have its rewards, rewards he had thought he was immune to. He had to admit it. He had undergone a transformation. Like it or not, he was part of a family unit, he and Casie. And Liz. He was sure that for all intents and purposes, they looked like a typical young family.

Well, not exactly typical, he amended, glancing at Liz on his left. By no stretch of the imagination could Liz be called a typical anything. She had dropped into his life like a bolt of lightning.

Or a lifesaver to grab in the sea of darkness and despair.

She could feel him looking at her. The expression on his face was pensive. Was he worried about what was going to happen once they went behind the door that separated the waiting room from the doctor's office?

"What's on your mind?" She lifted her foot as a little boy, no more than three, ran his truck right by her and kept on going.

"Jonathan, come back here," his mother cried and scooped him up bodily. She flashed Liz an apologetic smile.

The fact that Liz seemed to be able to pick up on his thoughts bothered him. He was a private person. He didn't like anyone rummaging through his mind as if it was an extension of their own. And he didn't want her to know that he was thinking about her.

"Just that I wonder how good an idea this really is, taking Casie to see a doctor when she's well." He watched Liz's face. She looked as if she accepted his answer. Well, why shouldn't she? She couldn't really read his mind, couldn't tell that every second thought seemed to center around her lately. He was letting his imagination run away with him.

His concern about Casie was endearingly sweet, especially since he tried to be so gruff about it. Just another reason to love him. "I agree." Liz nodded knowingly. "Back when we were kids, our moms only took us when we were sick. I guess that's why you look so uncomfortable here. You probably unconsciously associate a lot of fear with being in a doctor's office "