Just a Little Misgiving (Shades of Deception, Book 3) (4 page)

BOOK: Just a Little Misgiving (Shades of Deception, Book 3)
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Then they learned it was never meant to be. Such a loss for them both. For the woman who loved even her preschoolers with a maternal passion. For the man who needed the kind of family unity he'd missed growing up alone with his hard-drinking, hard-living father.

Myles shoved his hands into his pockets and considered their options. At least he'd gotten her to agree to move to Detroit—his first purpose in coming here. The other major concern had to do with legitimacy and that was far more of a personal issue than a legal one. He'd have to work on that, and it would be a helluva lot easier to convince Faith if their proximity led to trust.

"Okay," he said, figuring he could convince her otherwise with time. "Maybe you're right. But for the time being you can stay with me until we find you a nice place. I'll even help, how's that?"

Slowly she nodded her head in agreement. Myles smiled grimly to himself. Amazing how he'd gotten his way and managed to rationalize his motivations all in one swoop. He'd just lied to Faith and almost succeeded in lying to himself.

He'd known what he ultimately wanted in coming here—to claim his baby—but didn't have a clue of how to go about it. He had a plan of sorts now, and that felt mighty good.

Only he was leaving with more than he'd bargained for: a conscience that was already robbing his pleasure in getting her to agree. And an ache in his groin he had no business feeling.

Just looking at her now, watching the way she unconsciously stroked her belly, he could feel himself begin to harden.

"Could you eat some soup?" he threw over his shoulder as he quickly headed for the kitchen. "It's time for supper, and you hardly ate a bite at lunch."

"Soup sounds good," she confirmed. "And there's some caviar in the fridge. I'd love some of that with a slice of pizza. After I get past the queasy stage in the mornings, I'm usually starved."

"Caviar and pizza."Myles chuckled. "Sounds... interesting."

"Ever the diplomat, aren't you, Myles? I know it sounds gross. But lately I get cravings for the strangest things." Her smile was a little shy. "Of course I'll have to change my eating habits once I start nursing the baby."

An image of Faith's unbound breasts sabotaged the small bit of control he'd mastered en route to the kitchen.

Quickly turning his back, Myles prayed for mercy. This was probably his punishment for feeling such illicit longing.

You've really done it now, hot shot. So what're you gonna do once she moves in?

"I don't know," he muttered to himself as he pulled out a frozen pizza and began to hunt for the caviar. "Heaven help me, but I just don't know."

 

 

 

Chapter 3

 

"First things first," Faith muttered to herself as she looked around the rooms she had temporarily claimed on the second floor. Her gaze lifted to the high ceilings tinted a delicate peach, then shifted to the big bay window, where a built-in seat and vintage needlepointed cushions beckoned her to rest her feet. She couldn't. Not when the Persian rugs on the oak floor were littered with boxes on top of boxes.

The duty call to Cousin Martin would simply have to wait. Though if she were honest with herself, she'd have to admit it was a call she wanted to put off.

"The movers are ready to leave, Faith. You're sure you don't want them to unpack for you?"

"I'm sure, Myles," she called out. "My friend Jennifer assured me it was easier to do it yourself and put things where you want them as you go along." She wouldn't mention there were certain things she wanted out of sight and that by unpacking herself she could keep it that way.

"Whatever you say. I'll see them out the door and be right back."

For a moment she stood there still disbelieving what she'd agreed to. Here she was under Myles's roof, albeit temporarily, filled with a sense of niggling guilt for her less-than-noble reasons. She didn't want to go through this pregnancy alone and she'd had plans to move her business to Detroit before fate intervened. That's what she'd told herself. But it was far from the real reason she was here.

Quite simply she was in love with Myles and she wanted to be with him, to... She closed her eyes.
Go
ahead and admit it,
her mind challenged.
You want a lot more than that. You want him to see you as a woman, a desirable woman who just happens to be pregnant with his baby. You want to be his lover and you want more than an affair. This is the once-in-a-lifetime chance you thought would never come.

"They're gone. Now it's just you and me and the boxes. Oh, and the baby too." He chuckled.

She jumped at the sound of his voice close behind her, breaking into her self-examination.

"I can't believe I didn't lose any accounts," she babbled, saying the first thing she could think of. "Or that Jennifer pounced on the chance to sublet my place."

"I'm not surprised. As she said, she'd always envied your house." He moved closer until she had to look up to meet his eyes. "I do have to admit that I'm disappointed over your not losing any accounts. "

"Disappointed? But why?" And why did he have to stand so close? So close she had only to inhale to breathe in the male scent of him. He smelled of a subtle spice aftershave mingled with the light sweat of exertion.

"Why? Because I wanted an excuse to have you work with me—" He broke off and cleared his throat. "My company, I mean."

She laughed. "Your new line of roadsters speak for themselves, Myles. The critics are raving over your show cars. I don't think you'll see a slump without me."

"Hmmm. Well, after seven years in the making they don't seem so new anymore, and I still have my detractors, not to mention a lot of people who're still waiting for a return on their investment. But I suppose we'll have to limp along with the artists we've contracted." He touched her arm lightly. She shivered and he immediately withdrew. "I don't want to see you pushing yourself too hard. You need your rest and plenty to eat."

"Plenty to eat! Myles, you're fattening me up with all your cooking as it is. I'm even afraid to look at the scale. I've probably gained ten pounds since you banged on my door two weeks ago."

"If you've gained ten pounds, Faith, they went to all the right—" He stopped, his attention lowering to her breasts and lingering there. Suddenly he moved away and focused on a nearby carton. "Let's get started. We've got enough here to keep us busy until you go into labor."

She stood there, rooted to the spot. Her breasts still tingled from his gaze, as if he'd touched her without touching her. And what was this alien feeling of... resentment? She loved this baby with a fierce intensity. So why did it bother her that her conversations with Myles always led to the unborn child that had brought her here to begin with?

Before she could examine the disconcerting emotions she didn't understand, Myles began to unpack an object that was all too familiar to her. A very incriminating object.

"Don't touch that!" Faith lurched and nearly lost her balance as she made a grab for the covered sculpture.

He stopped in mid-motion, startled by her outburst, and spun around to break her fall.

"For heaven's sake, Faith," he grumbled when he grasped her arms. "You practically gave me heart failure." With a curt nod at the box he added, "What's in there that's so untouchable, anyway?"

"It's... personal," she said breathlessly. Faith was unsure whether it was from the close call or the nearness of Myles. He hadn't released her arms, even though both her feet were planted safely on the ground.

"Personal?" He raised a brow while his hands slightly tightened. "Now I'm curious. What kind of sculpture would be personal? I guess no one would be exactly sure what it was except you, right?"

She gave a slight nod, not wanting to encourage a guessing game and yet not wanting to end the conversation. His palms were warm through the fabric of her blouse, and his chest was all but touching hers. She could reach up and stroke his lightly whiskered face; she could pull his head down and taste his lips.

She would make an utter fool of herself if she did either. So she simply kept still so that he wouldn't move away, thrilling to his nearness, the underlying strength of his physique. The even stronger lure of what lay beneath: character, intelligence, maturity.

"And I don't suppose it would be animal, vegetable, or mineral. Even Lassie would have a hard time inspiring such loyalty."

"It's not important, Myles. It's just something of mine that I'm... attached to."

"Or someone?" His teasing smile gave way to an assessing expression as he studied her face for a reaction. When she shook her head in quick denial, Myles murmured, "Who was he, Faith?"

"No one," she said, feeling her apprehension rise with his accuracy. "No one important."

"But it's personal," he reminded her. "And frankly, I can't help but wonder about your personal life. Why you never married or talked about having a man in your life. You aren't exactly what anyone would call plain or dull."

"No, just a little skinny and weird. Typical artist." She laughed shakily, glad to get off the subject of the sculpture but not exactly thrilled to talk about her personal life with Myles—even if it was a break away from the baby, the baby, the baby.

"But you're not so skinny anymore." His voice had dropped to a lower, more intimate timbre.

"You're voluptu—" He stopped, then added, "I never thought you were weird. Creative, yes. Head in the clouds sometimes, yes. Smart. Clever. Maybe even a little stubborn. But never weird." He glanced away, paused, as though considering his words.

"I have a confession to make," he said, and she was surprised to hear the thread of uncertainty in his voice. "Remember when I first met you at the plant? What is it now, nearly nine years ago? Before you grew up and I bit the bullet to branch off on my own."

She nodded, remembering all too well. The way her heart had tripped over itself to fall at his feet, the way she couldn't seem to make a coherent sentence around him when more than anything in the world she was dying to impress the dynamic, up-and-coming superdesigner of the hottest wheels on the road. She, along with every other female in the workplace.

"How could I forget?" she said. "My first job out of design school and I get assigned to your project. I was terrified of making a mistake."

"You only had to do rough drafts," he said with a chuckle. "Or they were supposed to be just that. Do you realize that you made quite an impression with those drawings of yours? I think the head of the art department was afraid of losing his job to a whiz kid."

"I didn't know that." Faith could feel a rosy glow spreading across her face. She'd felt so awkward then, so horribly unsure of her abilities. For so long she'd imagined Myles had only been kind, giving compliments to a green kid who looked up to him. "I wanted to prove myself, but I didn't think anyone really noticed."

"Oh, they did." His hand gravitated to her hair, and for a heart-stopping moment he touched it, then let go. "I noticed too. And not just the drawings."

Was she hallucinating? Hearing things? Did pregnancy affect a woman's brain so that she heard only what she wanted to hear and imagined something that had to be nonexistent?

"What?" She gulped, suddenly reduced to the twenty-one-year-old woman he'd first met, the one still trying to find out where she fit since she was a left foot and the world a right shoe. While he was older, worldly, established in his career and easy in his own skin, holding her enthralled and dazzled as if she'd stared too long at the sun. He was so far beyond her reach, she might as well have cried for the moon.

"I wanted to ask you out and I would have if there hadn't been a company policy against fraternizing. And, too, I thought maybe I was too old for you. You were just out of school and I was hitting thirty. I figured you'd think I was out of line, that I should act my age. Maybe even that wouldn't have made me back off if I hadn't met... your sister."

"Gloria," Faith whispered, remembering the shock of Gloria's news. That she'd met a man named Myles Wellington at the grocery store of all places, and once they'd started talking, one thing led to another and they went to a bistro for coffee. He even said that he knew Faith! And Faith, why hadn't she told anyone she knew such a marvelous man. He was witty, handsome, fascinating!

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