From Duty to Daddy (10 page)

It was time he found out what was going on with Charlie and why she had so little energy. He needed to know, wanted to help her if at all possible.

With a glass of bourbon in one hand and the bottle in the other, he returned to her bedroom and removed the workclothes she’d dumped earlier on the recliner chair in the corner. Pulling it out from the wall, he toed off his shoes and stretched out on the leather. The comfortable chair sucked him in, made him relax as he sipped his drink and watched over Charlie. He suspected he’d be there all night.

Not a problem. There’d been many nights in his life when he’d been on duty, watching out for something, someone. Tonight Charlie came under his scrutiny, and if she so much as whimpered in her sleep he’d be there for her. Not quite the way he’d thought he’d be spending nights with her when he’d hopped on that flight down to Auckland.

Strange how sitting here made him feel quite happy. True, he’d love nothing more than to slip into bed and make love to her, bring her to the peak of ecstasy and hear her cry out before entering her. But that hot and fast relationship they’d had two years ago had morphed into something that touched him more than physically. Talk about complicating things.

He sipped his drink and tried not to think about how he’d deal with this new feeling for Charlie when he flew out of the country.

* * *

Charlie rolled over. Sweat ran between her breasts. Her hand slid over her damp neck, then further down. Huh? She was still wearing her dress. Why hadn’t she undressed before going to bed?

Sitting up, she pushed the sheet off and reached for the bedside light switch. A golden glow filled the dark room from the low-wattage bulb. The air in her lungs leaked out as she stared across at the nursing chair, where she’d spent many hours feeding Aimee. Correction, stared at the man sprawled over it. Marshall’s long legs spread off the end; his arms hung on either side, with his hands brushing the carpet. And the cutest little snore ricocheted around the room.

Now she remembered—dinner. She’d fed strawberries to Marshall, one at a time. He’d licked her fingers every time he’d taken another berry, sending slicks of heat up her fingers, her arms and throughout her body, making her crave his touch. For a while she’d believed she was in heaven and that she’d manage to stay awake for a few more hours to enjoy what was so obviously going to be a very exciting night in Marshall’s arms.

A rueful glance down at her dress. She’d let this wonderful man down. She remembered walking out of the restaurant clutching his arm, but the rest was a blank. No memory of the drive home, of coming inside or getting into bed. Marshall must’ve put her to bed. And now look at him. Sound asleep in her room. Had he been waiting, hoping she’d wake up so they could finish their evening in the way they’d been headed?

There was nothing to stop them having a good time now. A wicked sense of mischief teased her. Why not wake Marshall up and lead him to bed? Her bed. Or start undressing him, kissing any bare flesh that appeared. That would arouse him in more ways than one.

Carefully, quietly, she slipped out of bed and removed her dress. Thought briefly about pulling on a negligee, decided against it. The black lace panties and matching bra she wore were about as sexy as it was possible for her to get. The stretch marks on her breasts and belly gave her a moment of panic. The scar from her hysterectomy stood out, ugly against her pale skin. He’d notice, want an explanation. A sure passion-killer.

Tonight was not the time to tell him about that. A smear of make-up might help and she could turn the light off as soon as they were in bed.

Moments later she tiptoed across the room and knelt between Marshall’s legs, her breath catching in her throat as she marvelled at his toned body. Even covered with a shirt and trousers, there was no denying the strength of his body or the very male bump shaping the front of his trousers. So close she only had to lean slightly one way or the other and she’d be touching him.

Her fingers were trembling as she reached for the buckle of his belt. She didn’t want him to wake up immediately, would prefer to gradually undress him and enjoy each little exposure. Slowly, slowly she fed the end of the belt out of the buckle. Then started inching the zip down, one notch at a time over that bump. Her heart rate shot through the roof. Her fingers jerked the zip down the final centimetres. Desire raced along her veins, heating her rapidly all over, pooling at her centre.

She hadn’t known this need, this feeling of urgency since Honolulu. Since this man had taken her to bed and taught her more about sex and loving than she’d believed possible. He’d woken her up in many ways, ruined her for any other man.

A sudden movement and her hand was pinned down. Marshall’s hand gripped hers, his fingers splayed as he pressed his growing erection into her palm. His other hand grasped the back of her head and began to draw her close.

‘Stop,’ she croaked. And when he still pulled her closer she said loudly, ‘Stop, Marshall.’

The hand on her head dropped away. The other didn’t. He tried to sit up but she was impeding him. Good. This was her show. They’d do things her way.

Looking up, she caught him watching her, eyes wide with lust, tongue tracking those full lips she loved to kiss. When he made to move again she shook her head and pushed him back into the chair. ‘Wait.’

Returning her hands to his trousers, she finished unzipping them, all caution gone. She spread the opening wide and scooped into his boxers and lifted his weight into her palm, surrounded his hard length with her other hand. The throbbing erection felt like silk against her sliding fingers.

‘Charlie. Oh, God.’

Leaning close, her mouth found him, her tongue licked and stroked, and the desire in her body ramped higher and higher until she shook with the need for him inside her.

His fingers wove through her hair, gripping as he held her head. His body strained in the chair, pushing up at her. His breathing was fast and hot, his thighs tense as he tightened them against her.

Then he reached for her shoulders and lifted her up. ‘No, Charlie, you first.’ The words were hoarse with need.

Scrambling to her feet, she tore her panties off and straddled him. As she hovered above him, her sex throbbing with need, she shook her head. ‘No, Marshall. Together.’

He caught her waist. ‘Condom. In my trouser pocket. Right side.’

So he
had
been hoping for this. She grinned and pushed into the pocket to find the small foil pack. Not that she’d get pregnant. He’d taught her to put one on with alacrity and finesse, and the moves came back in an instant. His passionate groan told her she’d got it right.

His hand found her wet centre, his fingers touched and caressed. She gritted her teeth, felt her neck cord as she fought to keep control, and reached for him again. This was their night. They had to share, to come at the same time. And then it was too late. She lost the battle as wave after wave of liquid need rocked through her, tightening her muscles and thrumming each and every nerve ending in her body.

She almost screamed. ‘Marshall.’

His mouth quickly covered hers, took the next scream. His tongue danced with hers. Those lips held hers. And still she rocked with the power of her orgasm.

Slowly, slowly it dissipated and her heart rate returned to something resembling normal as she laid her head against his chest. ‘You cheated,’ she whispered.

‘Lady, I never go first.’ Then he pushed up against her, his penis finding her opening immediately.

Lowering herself onto him, Charlie met his thrusts as they became more urgent. Her hands gripped his shoulders as she rode him equally hard and fast. And his name filled the room as she came again. Their world closed around them as they found release, and then they were slumped together, their bodies melding into one another.

Finally, maybe hours later but most likely minutes, they both moved. Charlie lifted herself off Marshall. He caught her hand, tugged her back. His mouth covered hers with a kiss. A kiss that deepened until she thought she’d explode with need. Shaking, she pulled away. This time she tugged his hand and headed for her bed.

‘Lady, any time you want to wake me up, feel free to go about it that exact same way.’ Marshall climbed into bed and wrapped her in his arms.

‘Any time, huh?’ She grinned and reached to switch off the light.

He caught her hand, effectively stopping her. ‘I want to look at you. It’s been so long and my memories need a recharge.’

Huddling her shoulders, she snatched her hand back and tucked her arms under her breasts. Biting down on the flare of panic again clawing its way through her, she told him, ‘I’ve got stretch marks now. I’d prefer you to remember me without those.’ How lame could she get? He knew she didn’t have hang-ups about her looks or body. But that had been then, this was now.

Beside her he leaned back against the headboard. ‘Okay, Charlie. What’s going on?’ His tone was light and caring but there was steel running through it. There’d be no fobbing him off this time. ‘Why do you always go to bed almost before the sun sets? Why did you all but fall asleep at the restaurant? Why don’t you want me to see your beautiful body? I remember the Charlie who danced naked for me in my apartment.’

Here it was. The moment of truth. ‘I...’ Her mouth closed. She took a big breath and shuffled around so that she could see his face. She wanted to know exactly what he thought the moment he learned what had happened. She needed to know if he’d be around for Aimee. Now.

‘I’ve had a hysterectomy.’ His eyes widened. She held up her hand before he could say anything. ‘I won’t be having any more babies. Like you and I, Aimee’s an only child.’

‘Nothing wrong in that. I’ve managed without siblings. So have you.’ His eyes bored into her. ‘So why the operation? Something to do with Aimee’s birth?’

If only. ‘Eight weeks after Aimee was born I went for a routine check-up with my obstetrician and she discovered a growth on my womb. It was malignant.’

‘Hell, Charlie.’ Shock slammed into him, his face tightening, his eyes popping. ‘Tell me you’re okay now. Please.’

‘As far as anyone can say, yes, my prognosis is good.’ She shuddered. ‘But sometimes I fear for the future. It’s a black cloud hovering over me.’

‘It must’ve been hell. Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not hiding anything from me?’

‘I can show you the medical reports if that’ll help.’ But those hadn’t taken all her fears away so she understood Marshall’s need for reassurance.

‘Oh, babe, I wish I’d known. I really do. You shouldn’t have had to go through that on your own.’ He reached for her, wrapped those strong arms around her and held on. ‘I know Brendon was there, but...’ His chin touched the top of her head. ‘I don’t know what I’d have done but I’d have been here for you.’

‘I know you would’ve. That’s why I kept looking for you.’ She could stay tucked up in his arms for ever, feeling his strength, his tenderness, but they’d started this conversation. She wanted it finished.

Leaning back in his arms to see his face, she continued, ‘My mum died of cervical cancer when I was seven. I was lucky. I have the greatest dad on the planet. He was always there for me as I grew up, and though I missed my mother I never felt lost or lonely. I’m sure I’ve disappointed him at times. When I came home pregnant he took that in his stride. My cancer was a huge shock for him, a rerun of when Mum got ill, but he’s never once let me down.’

‘In the short time I’ve been here I’ve seen how good he is, how strong his love is for you and Aimee.’ Marshall straightened against the headboard, his eyes locking with hers. ‘This is why you spent so much time trying to find me. If something goes wrong, you want the same for Aimee as you’ve had from Brendon.’

He saw straight to the truth every time. She didn’t have to hit him over the head to make him understand. This was one of the things she loved about him. He could be brutally honest but he always got it. ‘Yes. If anything happens to me, Aimee would need you in her life. She has to have one parent at least. Like I did. I need to know you’ll look out for her.’

A cloud formed in his gaze. Setting her aside, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and dropped his head in his hands. For a long time he said nothing, and she sat still, watching and waiting, knowing whatever he said wasn’t going to be what she hoped for.

Finally he lifted his head and turned desperate eyes on her. ‘I hear you. I even understand you. But, Charlie, I’m nothing like Brendon. It’s not in my make-up.’

Talk about brutally honest. Her heart sank. He’d hinted at his past and she’d wondered if that might affect how he’d react to this situation. But to not even think about it beyond a few minutes—which surely hadn’t given him time to think of the whole situation, not just his part in it—bowled her flat. ‘You’ve been fantastic with Aimee all week. Playing with her, dressing and feeding her, being endlessly patient. Yet now you’re pulling back from a chance to see if we can make it work.’

Standing, he crossed the room, flicked the curtain open and raised the window so he could lean out, his arms braced wide, his head bowed. ‘I had a hard upbringing. Dad ruled with his fists. What if I’m the same?’

‘Have you ever hit anyone?’ She reckoned she knew the answer already.

‘No.’

Exactly. ‘You’re a strong, tough man, Marshall, but you’re not a hard one. Nothing’s changed. I would trust you with Aimee any day.’

His shoulders stiffened, his back straightened and he turned to look at her. ‘Thank you.’ His gaze locked with hers and it was as though he was searching right inside her. Then, ‘Did you ever want to find me for us? Or was it all about our child?’

Her heart slowed. Where was this going? ‘I watched you walk away in Honolulu and I ached from the need to chase you down the road to beg you to stay in touch, to come and see me when you had the time.’ She swallowed around a lump that suddenly clogged her throat.

‘I knew you didn’t want any long-term relationship but I’d have sold my soul to have another week with you. A month even.’ Her gaze remained fixed on him. ‘So, yes, I wanted to find you. For me. For us. And, heaven knows, I tried. Even when I suspected you’d be angry if I did make contact.’