Alison Roberts - A Daddy For Christmas

“Checking on our security and following up a lead on the baby.”

She stood up straighter and joined him by the window, her heart hammering in her ears. “Did you find her family?”

“Sorry.” He cupped her shoulder in a warm grasp, squeezing comfortingly. “Not yet. But we’re working on it.”

She forced herself to swallow and moisten her suddenly dry mouth. “Who is this ‘we’ you keep mentioning?”

“I’m a wealthy man now. Wealthy people have connections. I’m using them.” His hand slid away, calluses snagging on her satin robe.

Calluses.

The thought of those fingers rasping along her skin made her shiver with want. God, she wasn’t used to being this controlled by her body. She was a cerebral person, a thinker, a scientist. She needed to find level ground again, although it was a struggle.

Reining herself in, she eyed Rowan, assessing him. Her instincts told her he was holding something back about his conversation, but she couldn’t decipher what that might be. She searched his face, really searched, and what a time to realize she’d never looked deeper than the surface of Rowan before. She’d known his history—a reformed bad boy, the saintly doctor saving the world and soaking up glory like a halo, while she was a person who preferred the shadows.

She’d only stepped into the spotlight now for the baby. And that made her wonder if his halo time had another purpose for him—using that notoriety for his causes. The possibility that she could have been mistaken about his ego, his swagger, gave her pause.

Of course she could just be seeking justification for how his kisses turned her inside out.

Then his hand slid down her arm until he linked fingers with her and tugged her toward the sofa. Her stomach leaped into her throat, but she didn’t stop him, curious to see where this would lead. And reluctant to let go of his hand.

He sat, drawing her to sit beside him. Silently. Just staring back at her, his thumb stroking across the inside of her wrist.

Did he expect her to jump him? She’d already told him she wouldn’t make the leap into bed with him. Had a part of her secretly hoped he would argue?

Still, he didn’t speak or move.

She searched for something to say, anything to fill the empty space between them—and take her mind off the tantalizing feel of his callused thumb rubbing along her speeding pulse. “Do you really think Issa’s family will be found?”

“I believe that every possible resource is being devoted to finding out who she is and where she came from.”

The clean fresh scent of his aftershave rode every breath she took. She needed to focus on Issa first and foremost.

“Tomorrow—or rather, later this morning—we need to get serious about going public with the press. No more playing at dinner, pretend photos and controlled press releases. I need to use my notoriety to help her.”

He squeezed her wrist lightly. “You don’t have to put yourself in the line of fire so aggressively.”

“Isn’t that why you asked me to help you? To add oomph to the search?” His answer became too important to her.

“I could have handled the baby alone.” He held her gaze, with undeniable truthfulness in his eyes. “If we’re honest here, I wanted to spend more time with you.”

Her tummy flipped and another of those tempting Rowan-scented breaths filled her. “You used the baby for selfish reasons? To get closer to me?”

“When you put it like that, it sounds so harsh.”

“What did you mean then?”

He linked their fingers again, lifting their twined grasp and resting it against his chest. “Having you here does help with the baby’s care and with finding the baby’s family. But it also helps me get to know you better.”

“Do you want to know me better or kiss me?”

His heart thudded against her hand as he leaned even closer, just shy of their lips touching. “Is there a problem with my wanting both?”

“You do understand that nothing is simple with me.” Her breath mingled with his.

“Because of who you are? Yes, I realize exactly who you are.”

And just that fast, reality iced over her. She could never forget who she was...her father’s daughter. A princess. The next in the royal line since she had no siblings, no aunts or uncles. As much as she wanted to believe Rowan’s interest in her was genuine, she’d been used and misunderstood too many times in the past.

She angled away from him. “I know you think I’m a spoiled princess.”

“Sometimes we say things in anger that we don’t mean. I apologize for that.” He stretched his arm along the back of the sofa without touching her this time.

“What do you think of me?” The opinion of others hadn’t mattered to her before.... Okay, that was a lie. Her parents’ opinion mattered. She’d cared what her first lover thought of her only to find he’d used her to get into her father’s inner circle.

“Mari, I think you’re smart and beautiful.”

She grinned. “Organized and uptight.”

He smiled back. “Productive, with restrained passions.”

“I am a spoiled princess,” she admitted, unable to resist the draw of his smile, wanting to believe what she saw in his eyes. “I’ve had every luxury, security, opportunity imaginable. I’ve had all the things this baby needs, things her mother is so desperate to give her she would give her away to a stranger. I feel awful and guilty for just wanting to be normal.”

“Normal life?” He shook his head, the leather sofa creaking as he leaned back and away. “I had that so-called normal life and I still screwed up.”

She’d read the press about him, the way he’d turned his life around after a drunk-driving accident as a teen. He was the poster boy for second chances, devoting his life to making amends.

Her negative reports on his program weren’t always popular. Some cynics in the medical community had even suggested she had an ax to grind, insinuating he might have spurned her at some point. That assumption stung her pride more than a little.

Still, she couldn’t deny the good he’d done with his clinic. The world needed more people like Dr. Rowan Boothe.

“You screwed up as a teenager, but you set yourself on the right path again once you went to that military high school.”

“That doesn’t erase my mistake. Nothing can.” He plowed a hand through his hair. “It frustrates the hell out of me that the press wants to spin it into some kind of feel-good story. So yeah, I get your irritation with the whole media spin.”

“But your story gives people hope that they can turn their lives around.”

He mumbled a curse.

“What? Don’t just go Grinchy on me.” She tapped his elbow. “Talk. Like you did at dinner.”

“Go Grinchy?” He cocked an eyebrow. “Is that really a word?”

“Of course it is. I loved that movie as a child. I watched a lot of Christmas movies flying across the ocean to spend Christmas with one parent or the other. So, back to the whole Grinchy face. What gives?”

“If you want to change my mood, then let’s talk about something else.” His arm slid from the back of the sofa until his hand cupped her shoulder. “What else did you enjoy about Christmas when you were a kid?”

“You’re not going to distract me.” With his words or his touch.

“Says who?” Subtly but deliberately, he pulled her closer.

And angled his mouth over hers.

Seven

Stunned still, Mari froze for an instant. Then all the simmering passion from her dream earlier came roaring to the surface. She looped her arms around Rowan’s neck and inched closer to him on the sofa. The satin of her peignoir set made her glide across the leather smoother, easier, until she melted against him, opened her mouth and took him as boldly as he took her.