The Baby Surprise (12 page)

“The first time I met Zach, he was in uniform,” Paige told his dad. “And I thought that uniform completely defined who he was. But seeing him here, with his family, I've realized it's only a part of the whole.”

She'd also realized that she liked the man he was. His obvious attachment to and affection for his family, his sense of loyalty and responsibility, his sense of humor. There was a lot more to him than she'd originally thought, and her feelings for him were getting more and more complicated.

Since taking custody of Emma, she hadn't had the time or energy to pursue any kind of personal relationships. Nor had she missed the casual flirtations and meaningless hookups that were so prevalent in the dating scene. And truthfully, she'd never had a relationship that was anything more than that. Not since she'd gotten over her infatuation with Matt Sanders, anyway.

Her feelings for Zach were already stronger and deeper than anything she'd ever felt for any other man, and she knew
that if she wasn't careful, she could fall for not only Zach but his whole family.

“Just as, I'm sure,” Justin continued, drawing her attention back to their conversation, “being a lawyer is only part of who you are.”

“And a lesser part than it used to be,” Paige admitted.

Justin nodded his understanding. “I can't imagine how difficult it's been for you to juggle child care with a demanding career.”

“There are days when I wish I'd chosen corporate law instead of family law,” she admitted. “Because I go home to Emma and I just can't understand how some parents get so caught up in their personal grievances and demands that they lose sight of what's best for the children.”

“Do you know much about other kinds of law?” he asked curiously.

“Why—are you looking for some legal advice?”

He smiled. “No, but I have a friend whose son is looking to take a new partner into his firm.”

Paige was humbled by the suggestion that he might recommend her. “But…I'm not even licensed to practice in California.”

“How do you get licensed?”

“I'd have to write the state bar exam.”

“Is that a big deal?”

“Yeah, it's a pretty big deal,” she told him.

“Well, I just thought I'd put the idea out there,” he said. “Because we'd sure love to be able to see more of you and your little girl.”

 

After her tour of the winery, Paige spent some time playing in the pool with Emma. Zach's mom returned from a luncheon meeting with a customer just as they were drying off. When she saw an obviously sleepy Emma rubbing her eyes, she asked if she could take the little girl inside to get her ready
for her nap. Because Kathleen had been nothing but gracious and helpful, Paige didn't see how she could refuse.

So she sat alone with her thoughts—and still in her two-piece bathing suit—when Zach came down to the pool a few minutes later. She glanced over at the chair where she'd left her towel but knew that going out of her way to cover up her body would only draw more attention to it. Besides, the black halter-style top and boy-short bottoms were actually quite modest.

Or so she believed until Zach's eyes skimmed over her in a way that made her feel as if she was completely naked.

“You've been in the pool,” he noted.

She nodded. “Emma loves the water.”

“Where is Emma?”

“Napping.”

He sat down beside her, nudged her shoulder gently with his own. “Wanna go skinny-dipping?”

“No. But thanks for the offer,” she said drily.

“I didn't mean right now,” he said. “I was thinking maybe later, when it's dark and—” The teasing glint faded from his eyes when he saw the glimmer of tears in her. “What happened, Paige? What's wrong?”

She hastily swiped at the lone drop that had slipped onto her cheek. “Nothing.”

“I realize I don't know you very well, but I don't think you're the type of woman to cry over ‘nothing.'”

She sighed. “It's your parents—”

She didn't get any further than that before he interrupted.

“What happened? Did one of them say something to upset you?”

His willingness to immediately and automatically defend her against some imagined slight made her smile, though her eyes were still blurred with tears. “No, no one said or did anything. Your parents are…wonderful.”

He frowned. “Then what's the problem?”

“That
is
the problem.”

“Okay, now I'm really confused.”

“Your whole family is wonderful.”

“Well, I've always thought so,” he agreed, a little hesitantly.

“And they absolutely dote on Emma.”

“She's family.”

His response was both simple and heartfelt and she knew that it was true. From the minute both Kathleen and Justin had set eyes on the little girl, she had been theirs, completely accepted and unconditionally loved.

“It's really that easy for them, isn't it?” she asked, marveling over the fact.

“Why do you sound so surprised?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Not everyone places such high value on blood ties.” Certainly not anyone in her experience.

Her mother had walked out when she was seven, her father had turned her out when she was fifteen, and though his sister had taken her in, Paige had always worried that her aunt Lillian's actions had been motivated solely by a sense of responsibility rather than any real affection.

“I'm guessing we're back to your father again,” Zach said.

“My dad never made any secret of the fact that his first loyalty was to the military,” she told him, and hoped he would leave it at that.

But of course, he didn't, asking instead, “Are you ever going to tell me what happened?”

“When?”

“When you went to live in Pinehurst.”

“What makes you think anything happened?” she challenged. “Maybe my father just decided it was time I had a more stable environment and more structure in my life than he could provide.”

“Is that all it was?”

She sighed. “No.”

He waited, and his quiet patience gave her the courage to speak the words she'd never shared with anyone else before. “I was found in a compromising position with a second lieutenant. To put it more bluntly, we were caught naked together by his captain, who threatened to not only write up the officer for conduct unbecoming, but also to file criminal charges because of my age.

“Then my father stepped in. And he said he wasn't going to ruin a promising career because I was a slut and a tease and not smart enough to know when I was letting things go too far.”

She pushed herself to her feet and went to retrieve her towel. She wrapped it around her body, tucking the end between her breasts. But she still felt exposed—not so much physically as emotionally. And even more so when she sensed Zach standing behind her.

“How old were you?” He asked the question through clenched teeth.

She ducked her head, staring intently at the tangerine polish on her toes. “Fifteen.”

He tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “How old was he?”

“Twenty-two.” Her response was barely a whisper.

Zach's eyes shot furious blue sparks. “And your father blamed
you
for what happened?”

“I wasn't an innocent bystander,” she told him.

“You were a child.”

In retrospect she knew it was true. But at the time, she'd thought she was both womanly and wise, and she'd been so high on the thrill of knowing that this sought-after twenty-two-year-old officer was interested in her.

“I was a rebellious teenager,” she told him, because it was true. And because she still hadn't managed to shake the
feeling that she was responsible for everything that had happened with Matt as well as the deterioration of her relationship with her father.

“Desperate for your father's attention,” Zach guessed.

“Well, I finally got it,” she said.

“And then he sent you away.”

She nodded, the ache in her heart as real as it had been fifteen years earlier.

“What happened to the second lieutenant?” he wanted to know.

“After my father was satisfied that Matt understood the dangers of jeopardizing his career for a piece of ass—and yes, that's exactly what he said—” though her cheeks burned with shame at the memory, she didn't mince words “—he was promoted.”

“I hate to say it,” he said, not sounding at all remorseful, “but your father really was a bastard.”

“He is a highly decorated colonel in the United States Army,” she informed him.

“That doesn't make him any less of a bastard.”

His assessment was so unequivocally supportive and his understanding so wholly unexpected that, to her complete mortification, Paige began to cry.

Not silent tears or quiet sobs—no, she started to bawl as she'd wanted to when she was fifteen years old and her father had followed up his verbal lashing with a sharp backhand. But she hadn't cried then. She'd refused to give him the satisfaction of her tears.

She couldn't stop them now. And Zach didn't even try. He didn't hush her or whisper useless platitudes. He simply held her until the storm of weeping had run its course.

“No one else knows what happened that day,” she finally told him. “Not even Ashley and Megan. I didn't ever tell anyone. I couldn't. I was afraid they'd think it was my fault, too. Or maybe I was afraid that it was.”

“And now?” he asked gently.

“Now…” She was relieved to have finally shared the story, to have unburdened some of the guilt and the grief, and weary from the emotions that had been weighing her down for so long. “Now I know that it was a mistake—no more and no less than that. But even if I could go back and change my actions, I wouldn't. Because it was that final confrontation with my father that resulted in me going to Pinehurst to live with Aunt Lillian and Ashley and Megan.”

“I'm still sorry that you had to go through hell to get there,” Zach said.

She managed to smile at that. “You know, when I first met you, I really wanted you to be a bastard, too.”

His brows rose. “Why?”

“Because then I could feel righteous and justified in my determination to maintain custody of Emma,” she admitted.

“You're doing what you think is best for Emma—that
is
righteous and justified,” he told her.

She looked up at him, wondering if it was possible that he really did understand her motivations. “Even if that puts us on opposite sides of the courtroom?”

Every time Zach managed to take a single step forward on a personal level with Paige, she brought up the issue of Emma's custody and set them back two. But this time, he wasn't going to let it happen.

“Why don't we forget about that for a while?” he suggested to her now.

Her brow furrowed. “I'm not sure that we can.”

“We can try,” he insisted. “In fact, I have an idea that should help.”

“What kind of idea?” she asked warily.

“It occurred to me that you haven't had a chance to see anything beyond the gates of the estate since we got here.”

“We've only been here a few days,” she reminded him.
“Besides, the purpose of this visit was for Emma to meet your family, not for me to play tourist.”

“Still, I'd like to take you out tonight.”

“Out?”

She sounded so baffled by the offer, he had to smile. “For dinner,” he said. “Without the rest of my well-intentioned but undeniably interfering family and without Emma banging her cup and spoon on the tray of her high chair.”

“You mean—just the two of us?” She sounded a little less baffled now, a little more wary.

He nodded. “My mom and dad will be happy to watch Emma.”

“Why?” she asked cautiously.

“Because she's a great kid.”

She rolled her eyes. “I mean, why do you want to take me out to dinner?”

“Because I think we both deserve a few hours to ourselves. And because I know of a really fabulous restaurant that I think you would like.”

“I can't remember the last time I had a night out,” Paige finally admitted.

“Then I'd say you're overdue,” he told her.

“I'd feel guilty about leaving Emma.”

“My parents
want
to spend time with her,” he insisted. “And they'll take good care of her.”

“I know they will, but—”

“Let me do this, Paige.”

He took her hands, linked their fingers together. His touch was warm and strong and somehow reassuring even as tingles of awareness spread through her.

“To show my appreciation for everything you've done for Emma, for making sure she felt loved instead of abandoned when she lost her mother.”

“Everything I did, I did for Emma,” she reminded him.

“I know,” he agreed. “So let me do this for you.”

Still she hesitated. Not because she didn't want to accept his offer, but because she was afraid she was starting to want so much more than what he was offering.

“All right,” she finally said. “What time do you want to go?”

P
aige assessed the contents of the closet in which she'd hung her clothes and realized that her options for dinner with Zach were definitely limited. She had a pair of dark gray slacks and a wrap-style blouse that would be a distinct improvement over the jeans and T-shirts that had been her unofficial uniform since she'd arrived, but her gaze kept drifting to the lone dress hanging by itself.

She still wasn't sure why she'd let Ashley talk her into packing it, but because she had and because it was there, Paige figured she might as well wear it.

Her heart was pounding hard inside her chest as she slipped the garment from the hanger. It had been a long time since she'd dressed for a night out with a man, and though both she and Zach had been careful not to refer to their dinner plan as a date, there was really no other word for it. And she was filled with both excitement and trepidation as she tugged the dress over her head.

It was a sheath style with a square neckline and a straight skirt that fell to her knees. Simple. Elegant. With just a hint of sexy.

She didn't bother with pantyhose but slipped her bare feet into a pair of strappy sandals that Ashley had tossed into the suitcase along with the dress. Then she added a touch of makeup—a sweep of eyeliner, a hint of mascara, a swipe of gloss over her lips.

She came down to the foyer at ten minutes to seven. Her life was too tightly scheduled to worry about being fashionably late, and besides, she wanted to steal a few minutes with Emma before she left with Zach. When she saw him waiting for her with the little girl in his arms, she felt that flutter in her belly again. Was it apprehension about leaving Emma? Or being alone with Zach?

“Age!” Emma held her arms out, and Paige pushed her concerns aside to offer her a smile.

She reached for the child, who was squirming to get out of Zach's arms. As he released her, the back of his hand brushed the side of Paige's breast. The contact was both fleeting and accidental, but the accompanying punch of sexual awareness nearly buckled her knees.

“Sorry,” Zach mumbled.

She didn't—couldn't—respond. Her cheeks flamed, but the heat in her face was insignificant compared to the fire in her blood.

She wanted him.

There was no way she could continue to deny that simple fact. Maybe she didn't want to want him, but apparently her brain and her body were in complete disagreement where Zach Crawford was concerned.

“Age pay?” Emma asked.

She shook her head. “Sorry, honey. Paige can't play with you right now because I'm going out with Zach.”

Emma's little brow furrowed. “Age pay Ack?”

Yeah—in her dreams. But even that thought was enough to make her cheeks flame even hotter, so she kept her gaze focused on the little girl in her arms and hoped that Zach couldn't guess what was going through her mind.

“No, honey, we're going for dinner.”

Emma's lower lip jutted out, and Paige braced herself.

But before the tears could start, Zach's mom came in and told Emma that she needed her help to make ice-cream sundaes before they could watch a movie together, and Emma happily trotted off to the kitchen with her.

“Crisis averted,” Zach noted, then smiled at Paige.

But that smile did crazy things to her pulse, and as Paige walked out the door beside him, she wasn't sure the crisis had been averted at all.

 

Zach sensed that Paige was a little apprehensive about being alone with him, so he kept the conversation casual and he noticed that gradually, during the course of the exquisite meal, she began to relax. So much, in fact, that by the time their dessert dishes had been cleared away, she was tapping her fingers in rhythm with the music that was playing.

When she saw him watching her hand and realized what she was doing, she curled her fingers into her palm. “Emma loves this song,” she explained.

“Emma loves it?”

She flushed. “I have it on my iPod,” she admitted. “And when she hears it, Emma dances around until it's over, then she says, ‘Again. Again.'”

He smiled. “Do you dance with her?”

The color in her cheeks deepened. “Sometimes.”

“Will you dance with me?”

She seemed both wary and startled by the question. “What?”

“I said, will you dance with me?”

“Why?”

“Because the way you're tapping your foot to the music suggests you'd rather be moving out there—” he nodded toward the dance floor “—than sitting here.”

“Maybe,” she allowed, “but—”

“No buts.” Zach pushed his chair away from the table and reached for Paige's hand.

She let him draw her to her feet and lead her to the dance floor, thinking that as long as it had been since she'd been out for dinner with a man, it had been a lot longer since she'd kicked up her heels.

“But the song's over,” she told him, just as the last notes faded away.

“So we'll stay for the next one,” he said, and pulled her closer as the soft strains of an Aerosmith ballad floated over the dance floor.

She shouldn't be attracted to him.

Every logical and rational cell in her brain warned Paige of the folly of falling for someone who could break her heart—as Zach would do if he took Emma away from her. But while her brain clearly understood the dangers, her body didn't care about anything but the yearning that stirred inside whenever he was near.

And he was very near to her now.

His arm was around her waist, and he was holding her close, and she suddenly couldn't imagine why something that felt so good could be wrong.

And so she gave up trying to figure it out and gave herself over to the exquisite sensations that poured through her system like a drug, making her yearn for so much more.

 

The minute Paige had stepped into the foyer of his parents' house, Zach had wanted to touch her—to hold her close, just like he was doing now.

She fit into his arms, as if she was meant to be there. And her steps matched his effortlessly, as if they'd danced together
a thousand times before. And he found himself wondering if they would find such a perfect and easy rhythm if they were naked together in his bed.

Because that was where he wanted to be with her. He wanted to get her away from the crowd, to take her somewhere that they could be alone together and slowly peel away the dress she was wearing.

It wasn't surprising that he felt such a distinctly sexual attraction for Paige. She was a beautiful woman and he spent most of his time in the company of men, so his reaction to her was hardly unexpected.

But his attraction to her was still, he knew, unwise. Because Paige was his daughter's legal guardian, the woman who intended to fight him to maintain custody of Emma—yet that knowledge failed to negate his response to her.

Another couple, obviously too wrapped up in one another to pay attention to anyone else, bumped into Paige as they moved past. She stumbled against him, her breasts pressing against his chest, nearly making him groan aloud. Well, if she hadn't realized how aroused he was before, there could be no mistaking his body's response now.

Her gaze locked with his, and he saw surprise flicker in those dark-chocolate-colored eyes, then awareness, quickly eclipsed by an answering desire.

Then she looked away. “It's getting late.”

“It's not that late,” he told her.

“But it's a long drive, so we should be heading back.”

“If that's what you want,” he agreed.

She looked at him again, and he could see the indecision warring inside of her. “I'm trying to do the right thing here, Zach.”

“And why do you think ignoring the attraction between us is the right thing?”

“Because I don't want this,” she told him.

“I think it would be more accurate to say you don't want to want this.”

“Same thing.”

He drew her nearer. “Is it?”

“Zach.” Once again, she'd meant to speak his name as a warning, but the breathless tone made it sound more like a plea. Although not even Paige was certain of what she was pleading for.

After a moment, Zach said, “Let's go home.”

 

Neither of them said much on the drive back, but the sexual tension was thick in the air between them. When Paige finally got out of the car, she wanted desperately to put some distance between them. But as they made their way toward the house, she carefully kept her pace steady. She didn't want him to know that she was running. She didn't want him to guess that she was scared—not of him, but of her own feelings.

But somehow Zach sensed her inner turmoil because he paused with the key in his hand and turned to face her.

“We didn't do anything wrong, Paige.”

“I didn't say that we did.”

“I had a good time tonight,” he said. “I especially enjoyed dancing with you. Holding you.”

Paige remained silent.

“And I thought you had a good time, too.”

“I did,” she finally admitted. “I just think we need to remember that we're on opposite sides here.”

“I'm not entirely sure that's true. After all, we both want what's best for Emma.”

“We just can't agree on what that is,” she reminded him.

He stepped closer. “I don't see why that has to prohibit us from being friends.”

“I have no objection to us being friends,” she said. “I just don't think there should be any more dancing.”

“What about kissing?”

Her gaze shifted automatically to his mouth, now hovering mere inches above hers. She hadn't forgotten that long-ago kiss, hadn't stopped wanting more. But she'd learned, a long time ago, that she couldn't always have what she wanted. And that sometimes when a person got what she wanted, she realized it wasn't what she wanted after all.

“Definitely no kissing,” she said, but the breathless tone of her voice contradicted her words.

“Because you didn't like it when I kissed you before?”

She raised her hands to his chest, a physical barrier. “Because I did.”

She turned to go, but Zach grabbed her arm, preventing her escape.

“Dammit, Paige, you can't say something like that and then just walk away.”

“You're Emma's father, Zach. And Emma's mother was one of my best friends.”

“I was Olivia's lover,” he agreed. “And I'm not going to apologize for that, especially because the little girl we both love wouldn't be here if not for that relationship. But I can tell you honestly that I never felt about Olivia the way I feel about you.”

And then his lips crushed down on hers.

And in his kiss she tasted anger and frustration and need. It was a merciless sensual assault that made her pulse pound and her knees weak. She reached for him, her hands curling around his biceps, holding on.

His mouth was hard and impatient, his body was tight and tense. But even as he ravaged her with his kiss, she knew that he was holding on to control, that he wouldn't take more than she wanted to give.

So she gave to him, answering his need with her own. And in doing so, she found that there was more than anger and heat—there was gentleness and affection. With a sigh
that signaled both surrender and desire, Paige melted into his arms.

Zach didn't misinterpret her response. His arms came around her, and he yanked her against him so they were pressed together from chest to thigh. The full-frontal contact sent her body temperature through the roof.

His dark, masculine flavor slipped into her blood like a drug, rushed through her veins, leaving her hot and aching and desperately wanting.

She hadn't expected anything like this. Or maybe the reason she'd fought against the attraction for so long was that she'd been afraid of something exactly like this. Maybe, somewhere deep inside, she'd known that her response to Zach would be off the charts.

His tongue delved into her mouth, tangled with hers. His fingers sifted through her hair, tipping her head back so he could deepen the kiss even further.

When he finally lifted his head to say, “Come to my room with me,” she responded simply, “Yes.”

 

Without another word, Zach took her by the hand and led her into the house. He wanted her as he couldn't remember wanting any other woman—with a fierce desperation. He wanted to lower his body over hers, into hers. He wanted to take, to devour, to possess.

And as he drew her into the darkness of his bedroom, he knew that he could. He could take her here and now, up against the wooden door or on the hard floor, and she wouldn't protest. And maybe then he'd find some release from the need that burned inside of him whenever he was near her.

But he wanted more than a fast and reckless possession of the woman who had been driving him to distraction for weeks—and she deserved more. So he forced himself to go slow, to savor the moment, the pleasure, the woman.

His woman,
he thought, and even as he wondered where the unexpected possessiveness had come from, he didn't doubt the rightness of the feeling. From this moment forward, she was his.

He stripped away her dress, leaving her clad in only a couple of scraps of sheer black lace, then he lifted her into his arms and laid her back on the mattress. Her hair spilled over the pillow, a coppery halo. Her eyes were dark and fathomless. Her lips were moist and erotically swollen.

He quickly discarded his own clothing, then fumbled around in the drawer of his nightstand. When he came up empty-handed, he swore.

“What's wrong?” Paige asked.

He felt like a complete idiot. He finally had her exactly where he wanted her, naked and willing, and he was completely unprepared to take advantage of the situation.

“I don't have any condoms,” he admitted.

She slipped away from him, but instead of reaching for her dress, she reached for her purse. “I do.”