Leanne Banks - From Playboy To Papa!

“She was wild when I first met her. I caught her taking some pills one time when we first started seeing each other. I made her swear she would stop. I thought I would be a stabilizing influence. I asked her to marry me. I thought I could help turn her around,” he said.

Although Tabitha had kept her drug usage secret, Nicole had suspected that her sister had dabbled in drugs. After Joel had been born, she’d held her breath in hopes that he hadn’t been affected.

“I always thought she was the stronger one,” she said. “When we were growing up, she would challenge my father for anything.”

“He didn’t abuse her?” he asked.

“Very rarely, but she somehow was able to dance around his anger. I still don’t know how she did it,” Nicole said.

“But you took the brunt of it,” he concluded, his voice full of disgust.

“I don’t know why. I tried to be invisible, but it didn’t work. I was always so relieved to go back to boarding school so I could be away from him.” She glanced at him. “I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful.”

He looked at her, perplexed. “Ungrateful?”

“I was very fortunate that my parents were wealthy enough to send me to the best schools. I received health care and education.”

“You were also abused. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I have to keep reminding myself of that fact.”

“I’ll remind you,” he said, moving closer to her, taking her into his arms.

Nicole slumped against him, inhaling his strength. She gave in to the urge to lift her hands to his hair and savored the sensation of his crisp hair in her fingers.

“This isn’t wise,” she said, but couldn’t stop herself from leaning against him.

“I disagree,” he said. “It feels right,” he said and dipped his head, taking her mouth with his.

Nicole clung to him, wishing she could inhale all of him, all of his strength so that she would never feel weak or vulnerable again.

“I want to stay with you tonight,” he muttered against her throat.

He heart quickened. “Rafe,” she said, torn in different directions.

“Tell me you don’t want me to stay,” he whispered. “Tell me you don’t want me.”

“I do,” she said, but forced herself to step away from him. She didn’t want to confuse Joel if-when Rafe lost interest in her. “But being with you is just going to make things more complicated. We can’t do this.”

Rafe picked up his brother Michael at the private airport. “Nice surprise,” he said as his brother crammed his backpack into the non-existent backseat of Rafe’s Corvette.

“Thanks for picking me up,” Michael said. “I would normally just take a morning flight, but this guy wanted to meet at 8 a.m. and I didn’t trust the airlines or the private jet service in winter.”

“It’s not winter here,” Rafe said, shifting gears and pulling away from the terminal.

Michael chuckled. “Rub it in. How’s your son? How’s Nicole?”

“Joel is great. Nicole needs some work,” Rafe said, unable to keep a growl from his voice. He decided to wait to tell Michael about Aunt Emilia’s letter when he could show him the photographs. “Tell me about the business deal that would drag you from Atlanta so you could have an o’dark-thirty meeting in Miami.”

Michael discussed the deal and twenty minutes later, Rafe pulled into the garage.

“Nice crib,” Michael said.

“Back side is better,” Rafe said with a smile. “Come inside little brother.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

Leading his brother through the garage, Rafe opened the side door and heard Joel squeal.

“He’s home!”

Rafe couldn’t stop the joy that filled him. “Where’s my man?” he called, and Joel came running.

“Joel, you’re wet,” Nicole called. “Let me dry you-”

Joel skidded toward him as if the wooden floor were a Slip-n-Slide. Rafe rushed toward the boy and picked him up so he wouldn’t get hurt. “Hey, you need to dry off those feet, or you could get in trouble.”

Joel just beamed. “I been swimming. I can go from one side of the pool to the other.”

Rafe grinned at his son. “Good for you. Do you remember your Uncle Michael from Atlanta?”

“We met just before you left.”

Joel looked at Michael with a blank expression on his face.

Michael laughed. “No problem, guy. Next time I’ll bring a gift.”

Nicole appeared breathlessly. “Not necessary. He’s not at all deprived.”

Rafe looked Nicole over from head to toe. She wore a black bikini that made him want to strip it off. “Looks like the two of you have been having fun,” he said.

She nodded and turned to Michael. “Please forgive my appearance. I didn’t know we were having guests.”

“Nothing to forgive,” Michael said. “You should always dress this way for guests. It will leave all of us nearly speechless.”

Rafe tossed his brother a quelling glance. “I’ll get Carol to show you to your room.”

“But I’m enjoying this show much more,” Michael protested.

“Carol,” Rafe called, feeling protective.

His housekeeper immediately appeared. “Yes, sir.”

“Please show my brother to the blue guest room.”

“Yes, sir. Welcome home,” she said.

“Thank you,” he replied.

“Such a grouch,” Michael said, but allowed himself to be led away.

Nicole grabbed towels for Joel and herself.

“I petted a frog,” Joel announced.

“You did?” Rafe said, wrapping the towel around his son and pulling him up into his arms. “How did he feel?”

“He was slippery. Frogs are cool. I like the way they croak,” Joel said. “My teacher said we get turtles next week.”

“You like school?”

Joel nodded. “It’s fun. And I like the pool here.”

Rafe glanced at Nicole in triumph, but glimpsed a shadow of pain and uncertainty in her eyes. It stopped him. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” she said, but the words sounded forced. “I should get Joel into a bath and then to bed.”

“I can help,” he said.

She looked as if she intended to protest, then closed her mouth. “That would be great,” she said and led Joel upstairs.

Rafe followed after her, unable to keep his gaze from her round derriere. He remembered grasping her hips as he thrust inside…Growing hard at the memory, he reined in his need. He would have her again. It was just a matter of time.

He helped Joel with bath time and after Nicole dressed him in snuggly pajamas, Rafe read two books. Joel fell asleep before Rafe finished the second story and he left his son’s room to go downstairs.

He found Nicole and Michael eating dishes of ice cream at the bar. Out of nowhere, he felt a sharp stab of jealousy. Her hair damp from a shower, Nicole wore shorts that revealed her long, lithe legs and a tank top.

“How did I miss the ice cream party?” he asked, keeping his tone light.

“I wandered into the kitchen and found Nicole with ice cream,” Michael said. “Couldn’t resist.”

Yeah, right, Rafe thought. “Is there any left?”

“I can share,” Nicole said, offering him her spoon and he felt just a bit mollified.

She lifted her spoon and he covered her hand with his and swallowed the bite of intensely chocolate ice cream. “Good,” he said.

She smiled. “I put it on the shopping list. A forbidden indulgence.”

“I’ll take another,” he said.

She lifted another spoonful to his mouth and he slid his tongue over the cold creamy confection then sucked it down his throat. He saw her eyes darken with sensual awareness.

Michael coughed. “Nicole told me you received a letter with photos from Aunt Emilia?”