Nightfire (8 page)

Oh my God. What had she done wrong? Had she misread the situation? But—but he’d been the one to initiate the kiss. Had she responded . . . badly? Inappropriately? Too strongly?

How horrible, because it was one of the few times in her life when she didn’t overthink the situation. She didn’t even think at all. Her head hadn’t been involved in any way. Pure instinct had taken over, something that rarely happened to her. Never, actually.

Well, she already knew her instincts were off, didn’t she?

Even more horrible, there was nowhere she could go with her embarrassment. Her back was to the wall, literally, and Mike was plastered against the entire front of her body. She couldn’t move an inch. At least she could lower her eyes . . .

A strong, rough hand cupped her chin and forced her head up. Mike was looking puzzled. “You’re not sorry? I took it from zero to a hundred in a second.”

“Sorry? How could I be sorry?” she blurted. “That’s never happened to me before. It was wonderful.”

Mike blinked, astonished.

Chloe knew perfectly well that was not the kind of thing a full-grown woman should say to an adult male. She didn’t date much—actually, she didn’t date at all—but she read and she listened to her few friends and it was de rigueur after the age of eighteen to be experienced.

But Chloe had never really learned how to dissemble. She had no knack for it at all. The words had simply popped out of her mouth and it was too late to retract them. Too late to pull some kind of sophisticated comeback to cover her dismay.

Well, you got me off nicely, thank you. Good orgasm, definitely an A, maybe an A
+
. We should do that again sometime, when we’re in the mood.

Mike said, his voice rough, eyes locked on her mouth. “Jesus. If you’re not sorry, if I don’t have to apologize, then I’m
really
not sorry. As a matter of fact, if we don’t go now I’m going to do that again, very soon. Only we’d both be naked.” He lifted his eyes to hers. “But we have all the time in the world for that, don’t we?”

Even more than the raw almost-sex against the wall, his expression now was the sexiest she’d ever seen. This handsome, incredibly male man was entirely focused on her and sex was most definitely on his mind.

He was utterly aroused, and she didn’t need the huge column of his penis against her belly to know that. It was imprinted in every line of his face. The cords of his neck protruded, a red flush stood out under his tanned skin, his jaw muscles were clenched. His eyes were narrowed, chips of blue fire between the lids.

He stared at her, unblinking, then lowered his head.

Oh, fabulous. More of that was on the way. You don’t miss something if you don’t know it. But now that Chloe had experienced that incredible blast of energy that somehow left her lax and warm, she wanted more of it.

Sex made the world go around. She’d known that intellectually, because sex was everywhere recognized as one of the most potent forces in human affairs. It moved mountains, apparently. Lifted up teen idols, brought down presidents, inspired great works of art, moved hearts to murder.

Chloe had always thought of herself as immune to all that, just one more sign that she was destined to spend her life on the outside, looking in.

But Mike had yanked her forward. Zapped her out of her safe space. Now she’d felt even a little of its power, once wasn’t going to be enough. Not by a long shot.

Today she’d crossed some kind of invisible line. Found a brother, maybe found a lover, and joined the human race.

His lips touched hers, just barely, and already she was quivering with eagerness, nearly breathless with expectation.

A loud ring made them both jump. Mike lifted his head, frowned, bewildered.

“Your cell phone,” Chloe said gently.

“Christ,” he muttered as he pulled a very fancy cell phone out of his jacket pocket and glanced at the display. “Yeah. Yeah, Harry. Coming down right now.”

He looked down at her, a corner of his mouth turned up. “Later.”

“Later,” she agreed happily.

T
he entire clan lived in a gorgeous high-rise that anchored the end of a stunning white sand beach. Chloe was astounded at the sheer beauty of the place.

Nicole and Sam’s apartment was on the top floor, Harry had an apartment on the fifth, and Mike had a smaller one on the fourth floor.

When they walked into Harry’s apartment, a smiling Latina—the niece of Nicole and Sam’s housekeeper, Manuela, she was told—came out of the bedroom carrying a small bundle in a soft pink and cream blanket.

The baby was fussing, crying and wriggling.

Ellen rushed over, took the baby from the young woman and cradled her, murmuring softly. The wails grew heartbreaking.

Harry put his hand on Ellen’s shoulder and looked down at his daughter.

Chloe couldn’t help it. She stepped closer, touching the soft blanket, then cradling the child’s head in the palm of her hand. The wailing quieted, the tiny feet stopped kicking.

You’d need a wrench to tear her gaze away from the baby to focus on Ellen’s face. “May I?” She meant—
May I touch her?

And Ellen, without a second thought, transferred the tiny bundle to Chloe’s arms, not realizing that Chloe had never held a baby before.

The baby fit into her arms perfectly. A small, warm, living bundle, the tiniest human Chloe had ever seen.

She cradled the baby in her left arm and pulled away the blanket from the baby’s face. When she looked down, she felt her stomach swoop, her lungs constrict, her heart plunge instantly into love. The whole world just melted away, the only real thing the warm little creature in her arms.

From a huge distance she heard Ellen’s voice, a little choked. “Chloe, meet your niece Grace Christine. We call her Gracie. Gracie, meet your aunt Chloe.”

Chloe stared down at the tiny, perfect face staring right back at her. It was astounding to see the little face so very like her own, the color of her eyes exactly like hers—a light brown that looked almost golden in the sun streaming in through the huge picture windows.

All the doctors had told Chloe that she could never have children. Her injuries had been too severe, bone fragments had severed her Fallopian tubes. She had been told this from childhood on and it was as much a part of her as her eyes and hands and feet.

She would never have children.

So she had never, ever thought she could hold in her arms a beautiful little girl who looked just like her. A dream so impossible she’d never even had it, never even thought of it.

And yet, here it was. A tiny miracle, in her arms. Grace.

Gracie wriggled a little, kicking madly, then suddenly settled, eyes wide open and fixed on her face as if upon a star. Chloe watched her perfect little face, and to the end of her days would swear that Gracie smiled up at her, a large, gummy toothless smile that simply clenched Chloe’s heart in an iron grip, never to let go.

And Chloe knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she wanted to be as much a part of this little girl’s life as her parents would allow. And judging by the pleased look on Harry’s and Ellen’s faces, that would be a lot.

Gracie’s crying wound down to gentle cooing as Chloe rocked her. She lost track of time, forgot they were expected upstairs for a meal, forgot that she should settle into her bedroom, forgot everything as she stared into Gracie’s beautiful golden eyes, stroking her cheek, marveling that human skin could be so soft, drowning in the waves of love going back and forth between her and her niece.

Suddenly, the utter silence in the room caused her to break away from Gracie’s magnetic gaze and look up. Harry stood with his arm around Ellen, whose cheeks were wet. She, Harry and Mike were staring at her, Mike with a laser-like intensity.

“What?” Why were they looking at her?

Ellen swiped at her cheeks. “Gracie’s been fussing and crying for days now. She stopped crying the instant you held her in your arms. You have a natural way with children, Chloe.”

Wow, how wrong could a woman be? Chloe had no way with kids, none at all. She’d never been around kids, knew nothing about them. Everything she’d done with Gracie had been pure instinct.

Like with Mike.

She blushed to the roots of her hair, bending over Gracie so they wouldn’t see.

A cell phone rang and Harry’s deep voice answered. “Yep, introducing Gracie to Chloe. Yeah, they liked each other. Coming right up.”

He clapped his big hands together. “Okay, guys, Sam is sucking up all the champagne and Manuela’s food is getting cold. Chloe, honey, you can get settled in here after lunch. Is that all right with you? You hungry?”

Chloe lifted her head, surprised. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

And she
was
. Chloe was never hungry. In the hospital she’d sometimes been put on drips because she couldn’t eat. Even now, she ate little and rarely felt hunger. Often her stomach clenched tightly closed in protest at the thought of food.

Now she was
ravenous
. Mike’s kiss, the orgasm, holding a child in her arms who looked just like her—it had opened up a huge hole in her stomach and the thought of food upstairs, to be eaten with these happy, welcoming, magical people . . .

“Let’s go, then.” Harry started ushering them to the door.

Chloe looked down at the little girl in her arms. Gracie’s translucent eyelids were almost completely closed. She gave a gusty little sigh and smiled again. Chloe would swear to it.

“Chloe?” Harry stood at the door, Ellen beside him. Mike was by her side.

“She’s falling asleep,” Chloe whispered. “I don’t want to wake her.”

“No,” Ellen’s eyes widened in horror, “don’t wake her. Do you feel like carrying her up? It’s just a few floors up in the elevator.”

At any other moment in her life, Chloe would have recoiled at the thought of being responsible for a child in her arms. Walking, holding a baby. She had trouble keeping herself upright at times. She sometimes tripped unexpectedly. She was not in complete control of her body and carrying a tiny baby was not a good idea.

But she’d claw the eyes out of anyone who took this child from her arms. She was suddenly infused with a huge dose of physical confidence. She was absolutely convinced that she wouldn’t trip with Gracie in her arms. She felt strong, connected to the earth with massive roots that dug deep, invincible, unbreakable.

And then there was Mike, who stuck right by her side.

She couldn’t possibly fall, not with Mike beside her.

She felt the warm weight of Gracie in her arms, anchoring her to the earth, and smiled at Harry, her new brother, Ellen, her new sister-in-law, and at Mike, her new . . . whatever.

“Let’s go, then,” she said.

Chapter 7

S
am and Nicole’s place was as warm and welcoming as ever. It was Mike’s favorite place in the world, closely followed by Harry and Ellen’s apartment. And it held his two favorite people in the world—Merry and Gracie.

Gracie was in Chloe’s arms, as if she’d been born to be there. Mike would never forget how dazzled Chloe had looked when Ellen placed Gracie in her arms. She didn’t even notice Harry’s and Ellen’s reactions when Gracie immediately stilled, then became content and drowsy.

Harry told him that Gracie had been crying for days, barely letting them sleep. One second with Chloe and she was content.

Man, did Mike ever sympathize. Chloe had this . . . this magic aura of warmth and gentleness and calm. He’d be feeling calm, too, if he wasn’t so goddamned aroused.

He’d been on a hair trigger kissing her. Only an absolute lifetime of serious and copious fucking had given him the self-control he needed not to come in his pants, something that would have been seriously uncool, something he hadn’t done since high school.

But man, it had been close. He’d felt Chloe’s orgasm in her mouth, against her belly, throughout her entire body. And when she told him it was her first—whoa. Mind-blowing.

Sam and Nicole walked into the living room to greet them, Sam carrying Merry. She squealed when she saw him, turned to her father and ordered imperiously, “Down, Daddy.”

Sam was hard-wired to obey Merry, something Nicole worked on constantly. She said she was having another child simply so Sam could spread his spoiling between two children instead of one.

Sam placed Merry gently on the ground and Merry ran toward Mike like a homing missile, because she knew Mike was even more weak-kneed when it came to her and Gracie.

“Unca Mike!” she squealed, and launched herself from two feet away, an old game. Mike caught her and whirled with her while she laughed. “Unca Mike, look!”

She caught his face between her two small hands to turn his head to her, just in case she didn’t have his full attention. Merry had the princess gene in full.

“Yeah, pumpkin?” he asked.

She pointed at her feet. “Look, Unca Mike. New shoes!” She shot a small foot out so he could admire them. “They’re
red,
” she said in a hushed, worshipful tone, face solemn. “And
shiny
.”

Nicole rolled her eyes. “She’s been pestering me for those shoes since she saw them a couple of weeks ago.” She shot an ironic glance at her husband. “I don’t know who campaigned harder for those shoes—Merry or Sam.”

Sam looked abashed for a moment. He’d try to get her the moon if she wanted it.

“They’re beautiful shoes, Merry,” Mike said solemnly, biting his lips. Bright shiny new shoes—
red
shoes—were indeed something to be taken seriously. No smiling.

She nodded her agreement, black ponytail bobbing.

“I want to introduce you to someone, Merry. You have a new aunt.”

Merry’s eyes widened, mostly because, for her,
aunt
meant presents and dancing when her aunt Ellen sang. “Aunt” was a pretty neat concept in Merry’s world. One more aunt meant more loot and fun.

Mike turned to Chloe, Merry resting on one arm, Chloe holding Gracie in her arms. The moment, the picture, the idea—it was all so perfect, him introducing Merry to her new aunt.

“Merry, honey, this is your new aunt Chloe. Say how do you do.”

“Down, Unca Mike,” she ordered. She walked over to Chloe, held out a small hand and said, “How do?”

Merry was nothing if not well-behaved, which was all Nicole’s doing. If it were for Sam’s paternal discipline, Merry would behave as if raised by wolves. As it was, she was a perfect little lady.

Chloe reached down a hand, smiling. “How do you do, Merry? It’s very nice to meet you.”

Merry studied Chloe’s face, then did something unusual. She leaned up against Chloe’s leg and held on to her, looking up. “Aunt Chloe,” she said.

It was quite a picture, so beautiful Mike took a snapshot in his head, knowing he’d be taking it out often. A beautiful young woman, with a beautiful blonde baby in her arms and a beautiful dark-haired child holding on to her.

Everyone felt it, felt the power of it. Certainly Mike did, like a blow to the heart. Harry and Ellen and Gracie, Sam and Nicole and Merry—they now had, forever more, someone else in their circle to love.

Merry had been studying Chloe’s face, a small frown scrunching her face. She looked at him, then back at Chloe. “Aunt Chloe, are you Unca Mike’s wife?”

I wish
. The words nearly came out of his mouth, he felt it so powerfully. Because for an instant he could see it, he could feel it.

Chloe, his wife. Surrounded by their children.

She smiled down at Merry. “No, darling, I’m Uncle Harry’s sister.” She smoothed her hand over Merry’s ponytail. “And now your aunt.”

“Well,” Nicole said shakily. Her eyes glistened. “I think it’s time to eat. Chloe—do you need help?” Considering she was holding one child and another child was holding her.

“No.” Chloe smiled. “I’m good.”

Mike walked into the big dining room with her, Merry still clinging to her. He understood Merry completely, he wished he could lean up against Chloe, absorb some of that serenity.

“Oh!” Chloe stopped at the threshold to the dining room. Manuela had done them proud. Sam and Nicole’s dining table was enormous, a shiny mahogany polished so brightly the lit candles were perfectly reflected upside down. “How beautiful.”

It was. There were candles in tall silver holders and small vases of cut flowers among about a thousand serving trays of food, steaming hot and smelling delicious.

Nicole clapped her hands. “Okay, Chloe, you sit here, Ellen here—”

“Mommy!” Merry’s voice rang out. “Me next to Aunt Chloe!”

Nicole blinked because Merry always wanted to sit next to daddy, who never corrected her table manners.

“Me, too,” Mike said quickly, before the seats next to Chloe ran out. No way was he sitting across the table from her. “I want to sit next to her, too.”

“Here.” Ellen turned to Chloe, arms out. “Let me take Gracie. I’m used to eating with her in my arms.”

“Sure.” Chloe held a blanket-wrapped Gracie out to her mother. Gracie woke up with a little snuffle, and after a few false starts, cranked up the engine and started wailing. Ellen rocked her gently, crooning a soft lullaby.

The wails grew louder.

“Honey.” Harry put a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Let me try.”

“Okay.” Looking worried, Ellen gently handed Gracie over to her husband. The wails grew louder, positively heartbreaking.

Chloe bit her lips, opened her mouth, closed it.

Gracie turned her head away from the pacifier, the wails as loud as a siren.

“Could I—” Chloe looked at Harry and Ellen. “Could I try to calm her down?”

Puzzled, Harry said, “Sure,” and gently transferred the bundle back to Chloe.

Gracie stopped crying as if a switch had been thrown.

“Wow,” Mike said.

“Yeah.” Harry shook his head. “Man, am I glad you’re going to be staying with us. You’re going to stay a long, long time.”

“Until all Gracie’s teeth come in, at least,” Ellen added fervently. “Maybe till college.”

Chloe leaned to one side as Manuela heaped food on her plate. Seconds and thirds included. Manuela belonged to the More Is Better school of cooking.

“I only packed for a few days,” Chloe said, smiling. “Be hard to stay here until Gracie goes to college.”

“So buy new clothes,” Nicole said, slicing into a sausage and onion omelette. “It’ll be fun. I’ll take you shopping.” She slanted her eyes at Merry, leaning against Chloe, looking up in adoration. “Merry can come. She loves shopping. I think she’s fallen in love with you.”

“Shopping,” Merry said with almost religious fervor. “With Aunt Chloe.”

Harry laughed. He was seated across the table from her and leaned forward. “Honey . . .” He stopped, hesitated. Mike looked at him surprised. Harry wasn’t the kind of man who hesitated. “If you need money, that is absolutely not a problem.”

“Oh, not at all!” Ellen chimed in. “Whatever you want, whatever you need—”

Chloe held up a hand, looking dismayed. “No, no, I don’t need money. As a matter of fact—” Sitting next to her, Mike could see her hands trembling. She drew in a deep breath. “As a matter of fact, that was the main reason I tried to track you down, Harry. My parents—my adoptive parents—left me money. A lot of it. And it’s only fair that half of it go to you. We can make an appointment with a lawyer while I’m here and I can transfer half the estate to you.”

Silence. All eyes turned to Harry, who was shaking his head.

“Chloe,” he said gently. “I don’t want your money. Not a penny of it. Our company is doing very well and even if the company went belly-up”—he shot a smile at Ellen—“if I were to go bankrupt tomorrow, Ellen here earns so much she can keep me in the style to which I’ve become accustomed. Not to mention the fact that she’s so good with the damned stuff that she doubles the value of our investments every six months. You went through hell, Chloe. Keep all the money and enjoy it. Just as long as you enjoy it here in San Diego. With us.”

Tears shimmered in Chloe’s eyes.

Mike leaned in close to her. “Told you,” he murmured. She turned to him with a choked laugh. “So it’s dinner at the Del. Tomorrow night.”

Oh yeah. Tomorrow night, the night after, the night after that. What Mike felt was right there in his face and she blushed when she looked at him.

Oh man. Life was really looking up. Last night he was fucking a whack job, and less than twenty-four hours later, here he was with the most delectable woman he’d ever set eyes on, and he wasn’t going to let her go.

“Okay,” she said softly, and he did a mental fist pump. Tomorrow night. Dinner in the Crown Room. Soft candlelight that would make her skin glow more than it did already. A great meal, a walk along the beach afterwards . . .

His cell phone rang.

He pulled it out to turn it off.
Nope, sorry, whoever you are.
Not in. Not now, maybe not ever again. Everyone he cared about in the world was right here in this room with him. The rest of the world could just fuck off.

Oh shit. Bill Kelly. A good guy from SDPD and, most of all, a former Marine. Being a Marine was the closest thing to a religion Mike had. Though he wasn’t on active duty in the Corps, Mike was still a Marine. All Marines were his brothers. The second half of the famous motto.
Semper fi,
yeah. But above all,
semper fraternis.
Always brothers. Mike had Sam and Harry, his blood brothers. But he also had the whole Corps. Every Marine was in a sense his brother.

And Bill Kelly was one of the best. A hard-ass but a real good guy. Mike couldn’t blow him off, not even tonight when he might have found the woman of his dreams.

So, with a sigh, he flipped open his cell. “Yo. Bill. Now’s not a really good time, but—”

“You home?” Bill’s gravelly voice was flat.

“Nope.” Mike frowned. “I’m at Sam’s, but—”

“Be there in two,” Bill growled, and the screen went dead.

Mike held his phone for a second, staring at it. For Bill to be here in two meant that he was at Mike’s door five stories down.

What the fuck?

It didn’t take Bill two minutes, it took one. Nicole went to answer the door and Mike heard Bill’s low rumble in the front hall as he greeted Nicole, then followed Nicole into the dining room.

Bill was no dummy. He saw he was interrupting something. He ducked his head. “Ladies. Reston, Bolt.” He stuck his thumb over his shoulder. “Keillor, you’re with me.”

This was wrong. Everything about it was wrong. Bill had an old-fashioned sense of propriety. He would never interrupt a family party like this on a casual visit. So this was business.

But Mike wasn’t a member of the SDPD anymore. He wasn’t under Bill’s command. If Bill was going to ask for a favor, he was going about it the wrong way.

And, dammit, whatever it was, it could wait. Mike was having a real good time and he didn’t want to leave Chloe’s side.

“Can it wait, Bill?” Mike didn’t even bother disguising the impatience in his voice.

Bill frowned. “No. It can’t. And I’m about ten minutes ahead of an arrest warrant. This is a favor I’m doing you, Keillor, dammit, so you can get your ass on out there, right now.”

Bill never swore in front of ladies, never. He must be under massive stress.

Then Mike focused on what he said.
“Arrest warrant?”

“Yeah.”

Sam and Harry were on their feet, chairs shoved back, suddenly bristling with aggression. Nicole and Ellen and Chloe looked shocked.

Aware that something was wrong with the adults, Merry ran to her mom and threw her little arms around Nicole’s expanding waist. Gracie woke up and started crying. Chloe tried to hush her but it wasn’t working. She transferred the little bundle into Ellen’s arms.