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Excitement because his tongue was already slipping into her mouth, stroking her into a state of arousal. Bittersweet because she knew that they had to stop. Not simply because of the curse, but because of the knock on her door that sounded just as his other hand slipped up the front of her sweater.
“Tell them to go away,” Heath mumbled against her mouth.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” Heath asked as the knock came again.
“I think it’s… You’ll see.” Bella took a deep breath, anxiety spiking through her as she moved toward the door.
Still, she was grateful that they were here. After all they’d been through, she had been afraid she would never see them again. At least now she could have one last hug and a formal goodbye, if that was their only option.
Secretly, however, she prayed there might still be some way to save them.
Even if she couldn’t save herself.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Heath
A few hours later, as Heath sat watching Bella with the kids, he had to admit the truth—he was falling for her.
Of course, he’d known that since she’d slipped her mouth around his cock and gazed up at him with eyes that told him how deeply she wanted to give him pleasure. Then there had been the whole watermelon business—which was plain eerie—and the fact that she made the best PB ‘n’ J in the entire universe. Not to mention her kindness, her humor, her easy acceptance of his quirks and her intelligent contributions to their conversation.
Basically, he had already known she was fabulous, but what he’d seen in the past hour had made him seriously reconsider his doubts about getting mixed up with this “hermit.”
He wanted to do more than get mixed up with her, he wanted to come home to her, to look at those big blue eyes every day. He wanted to have kids with her, for God’s sake. The urge was foreign, but seeing her with the two Proctor children made him think what a great mother she would be. Any kid would be lucky to have her, and he would count himself the luckiest man in the world to call her his wife.
Your wife! Are you crazy?
Was he crazy? It was a question that he’d asked himself before and probably would again. This time, however, he was thinking more clearly than he had in a long time. Bella was something special, what they could have together was something special, and he’d be a fool to let this chance pass him by.
“Okay, guys, finish up, you need to be home before your dad gets back from work,” Bella said. “The last thing we need is to start this horrible business all over again. We have to be smarter this time if we’re going to win.”
“We’re so sorry, Annabella,” Gretel said, her blue eyes welling with tears for the fifth time. The kid was a wreck, and from what he’d observed it had very little to do with her being terrified that she was going to be boiled in a vat of peanut brittle.
It had a lot to do, however, with the father who had left the bruises on her arms.
“We thought you wouldn’t want to see us. We thought you would hate us,” Hansel said, sounding older than any twelve-year-old should.
“I don’t hate you, I love you both. You know I do.” Bella hugged Gretel—who looked awfully small for an eight-year-old.
“Dad made us lie. He said he’d hurt you if we didn’t,” Hansel said, his eyes deepening to a dark, midnight blue that reminded him of Bella’s.
“I figured as much.” A bright flush of red spread across her cheeks, but this time Heath could tell it had nothing to do with embarrassment.
She blushed when she was angry or embarrassed. He knew her that well already. Of course, she was easy to get to know, so sweet and open and honest. And tough, she was tough, too.
“He’s not going to hurt you, is he, Annabella?” Gretel asked, snuggling closer to Bella.
“Hell no. I’d kill the bastard first.” Heath spoke without thinking, realizing it wasn’t the smartest thing to say the second the words were out of his mouth. But hell, that happened to him all the time. He’d given up on controlling his outbursts a long time ago. It was easier to make apologies or jokes after the fact.
“Nobody is going to kill anybody,” Bella said, “And don’t curse in front of the kids, please.”
“You could kill him if you wanted,” Hansel said to Heath, his expression serious.
“Hansel!” Bella gave him a stern look. “You’re better than that. We’ll find a way to work this out. As soon as the new representative from Kinder Services arrives, we’ll talk to her, and get you in a halfway house where you’ll be safe until I can apply for custody.”
“You don’t have a Kinder Services office out here?” Heath asked, surprised. Deepweeds was in the middle of nowhere, but the late queen had been an advocate for children, and insisted on Kinder Services offices in every parish.
