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He knew he should back off. She was like one of the jittery horses he’d seen being trained in college. He needed to be gentle or she’d bolt. “As you wish.” He let his eyes linger on her lips for a moment longer before wiping away the seriousness of their conversation with a bright smile. His most disarming, only it seemed to make her more uncomfortable.
“Dinner’s ready,” she announced awkwardly, wiping her hands on the skirt of her apron. “Excuse me a moment.” She went to the door of the kitchen and poked her head around, so that only her butt and legs were in the kitchen. He tried to remember he’d been raised a gentleman, but his eyes seemed to have a mind of their own.
“Maxie!” She called, her voice soft and warm in the cold night air. “Dinner’s ready, come down immediately.”
She moved back into the kitchen oblivious to his questioning look, sweeping her dark hair into a messy pony tail with a rubber band she had been wearing around her wrist. The action drew attention to her neat waist and voluptuous breasts and he was unable to tear his eyes away. Marcus opened his mouth to ask who this Maxie was when a small dark haired boy came bounding into the kitchen.
“David, this is my son, Maxie Collins. Maxie, say hello to Mr. Trent. He’ll be staying with us for a little while.”
So there had been a husband at some point. Or a boyfriend, at least. Well, what did he expect? That she was some impossibly beautiful virgin? Besides, she’d made it clear that the last thing she wanted was to acknowledge their obvious sexual chemistry, and now he at least understood why. It sure as hell hadn’t been because she didn’t feel the same powerful current of attraction flowing between them.
“Hello, Maxie. Pleased to meet you.” Marcus stood up and extended his hand, hiding a smile as the young boy gravely placed his own small paw into Marcus’s and shook confidently.
“Pleased to meet you too, Mr. Trent.” Marcus looked at the boy and tried to see any of his mother in his features. Perhaps in the pout of his lips. Other than that, he was a mix of unknown DNA. Swarthy and tanned, with dark brown eyes and black spiky hair.
“How old are you, Maxie?” Marcus asked, resuming his seat at the table. Maxie sat down opposite him, in his usual spot.
“I’m five and a half. And the half is important because it means I’m almost old enough for a skate board.” He spoke the words with such solemnity that Marcus knew he had to resist the temptation to laugh.
“I see. And you really want to ride a skate board?”
“Of course,” Maxie said with the hint of an eye roll. “All my friends already have skate boards. But mum says I’m too young.”
“Yes.” Katie cut across him, a smile curving her lips. “You are.”
“But, mu-um. I’m bigger than my friends!”
He was. Just like his father, and this man before her now, come to think of it. Maxie was going to be tall, dark and handsome. But with a hell of a good attitude to women, if she had anything to say about it.
“The answer is no, darling. And if you keep asking, you’ll have to wait another year.”
“That’s so unfair!”
Now Marcus couldn’t hide his grin. How many times had he and Andrew said that to their long-suffering parents when growing up? It was the eternal catch cry of the young.
A five year old boy. Out of nowhere, an image of his ex-wife popped to mind. Their child would have been almost five. He’d never known if it was going to be a boy or a girl. He wouldn’t have cared which, anyway. He would have loved either with all that he had to give.
As usual, he pushed the thought from his mind, letting his attention float to far more pleasurable topics. As Katie plated the pasta up into three bowls, topping it with a mix of seafood and a generous twist of lemon and a sprinkle of just-chopped parsley, her whole body moved in a way he couldn’t help but be distracted by.
Questions sprang to mind and jostled to be asked. Where was the father? When had they broken up? Did he support her financially? Was he still in the picture? Did she miss him?
Throughout dinner, which was even more delicious than he’d anticipated, Marcus surreptitiously observed Katie and her son, feeling his heart clench with an unfamiliar sensation at the obviously tender relationship they shared. He wasn’t close to his parents like that. He hadn’t been before the divorce and Iraq. Now, there was so much water under the bridge that he didn’t think they’d ever get him. He saw them often enough, but a true bond of affection had never formed between them. His mother had always said it was because of Marcus’s independence. Even as a toddler he’d balked at holding hands or being helped, a trait he very much had to this day.
“David, I’m just going to get this little troublemaker in bed.” Katie said with a polite ‘stay at a decent distance, thank you very much’ smile aimed somewhere in his direction. Gone was the relaxed warmth she’d enveloped her son in. This was pure, business like civility. It made him yearn to crack through her hastily erected pretence and remind her just how magical their chemistry was.
Once she’d gone, he stood and moved to the sink, enjoying the sensation of warm water on his cool hands as he filled it almost to the top. It didn’t take long to do their dinner dishes, and he was looking at the stunning collection of photographs in the lounge area when she came back down the stairs.
The stairway was in need of some attention, and the second step from the bottom tended to creak. As Katie’s foot touched it, she heard it squeak into the quiet room. And with that one little noise, she lost any hope that she could disappear unnoticed back into the kitchen to finish the washing up.
She was exhausted. While she had barely had a guest for weeks, the quiet time was her best opportunity for renovating, and she’d been painting and sanding two of the guest rooms for over a week. All she wanted, she fibbed to herself, was to do the dishes and go to bed. Alone, she reminded her treacherous brain, which immediately supplied her with the image of the man just in front of her, naked against her crisp white sheets.
She froze where she stood, her hand gripping the cedar banister for strength as their eyes locked across the room. The fire crackled in the grate, warming the lounge. But Katie didn’t need flames for warmth; she felt a fire inside her blood and it was all because of the man caressing her with his eyes alone.
CHAPTER TWO
“Is Maxie asleep?” He spoke first, breaking the silence that stretched and pulled between them.
“Pretending to be, at least.” She responded, trying to sound light-hearted and relaxed.
