Ready for Marriage?: The Marriage Ultimatum / Laying His Claim / The Bride Tamer

He glanced at her. She’d just plunged her hands into soapy dishwater. ‘‘Do you want me to get that?’’

She shrugged. ‘‘Sure. Thanks.’’

He reached for the handset in the cradle on the far counter and turned it on. ‘‘Hello?’’

There was a moment of silence. ‘‘May I speak to Kristin, please?’’ It was a deep, masculine voice.

A wave of sheer, unadulterated jealousy ripped through him. He had to work to keep the satisfaction from his voice as he said, ‘‘I’m sorry, she can’t come to the phone right now. May I take a message?’’

‘‘Sure.’’ The guy sounded ridiculously cheery. ‘‘Is this Kristin’s father?’’

The question caught him flat-footed. Her father? Was the guy kidding? ‘‘No,’’ he said, aware that his voice was more than a little testy. ‘‘It isn’t.’’

‘‘Oh. Sorry.’’ The man sounded less sure of himself now. ‘‘Would you just tell her Rod called to confirm our date tomorrow night? I’ll pick her up at seven.’’

‘‘Sure thing.’’ Derek wanted Rod to come over so he could pound him into the ground.

‘‘Thanks, man.’’

Derek hung up the handset and slowly turned to Kristin. ‘‘That was someone named Rod. He’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow night.’’

‘‘Oh.’’ Her face grew pink. ‘‘Thank you,’’ she said in a small voice.

‘‘You’re welcome.’’ He clipped out the words, then turned and headed for the living room. ‘‘Hey, Miss Mollie, it’s time to go home.’’

‘‘No!’’ Mollie clutched another book to her breast. ‘‘Not done reading!’’

‘‘Okay. One more,’’ he said. ‘‘You have two minutes to finish that one.’’ He didn’t want to have to go back into the kitchen and face Kristin so he leaned against the wall and watched as his daughter became completely engrossed in the pages of the book she was ‘‘reading.’’

‘‘Derek?’’ Kristin’s voice was soft.

He glanced back into the kitchen.

She stood in the middle of the room, one bare foot atop the other, with that glorious out-of-control mane of hair rioting around her and falling over her shoulders. Her hands were absently twisting her T-shirt hem and she’d pulled it so taut that her smooth, flat stomach was exposed. The shirt also outlined the curves of her breasts and he realized she had no idea how she looked to him. How badly he wanted to go to her and smooth a hand down over that delicate skin, to cup her breasts and lower his mouth to them, to see that hair spread over his pillow.

‘‘Are you angry with me?’’ She was frowning.

‘‘No.’’ Not exactly. He didn’t move.

‘‘Well, then, what’s wrong?’’

He shrugged, determined not to give voice to the little green monsters racing around inside him. ‘‘I’m just not very satisfied with our relationship right now and I don’t know what to do about it.’’ Well, that was honest.

‘‘You don’t have to do anything about it.’’ Her chin lifted a fraction.

He turned completely around to face her without saying a word, merely holding her gaze with his until the belligerence drained out of her expression.

He should leave. He was going to leave. He was leaving right now.

He stepped toward her, reaching for her hands, prying her fingers out of the shirt fabric and intertwining his fingers with hers. ‘‘I’m not trying to hurt you,’’ he said quietly.

‘‘I know.’’ Her throat moved as she swallowed and suddenly there were tears swimming in her eyes.

‘‘Don’t cry,’’ he whispered. ‘‘We’ll work it out.’’

‘‘How?’’ Even though her voice was as quiet as his he recognized the challenge in the single syllable.

A taut, expectant silence hummed between them for a moment.

‘‘I don’t know.’’ He felt his shoulders sag. God, what was he supposed to say? Was she still hoping he’d change his mind about marriage?

Without warning, an image of Kristin languidly reclining in his bed, her mane of hair trailing across his white sheets, assailed him. Marriage would give him unrestricted access to her lithe, subtle curves, to her sweet, drugging kisses, to the shattering pleasure he knew he could find in her arms.

Marriage. That was crazy. He couldn’t marry her. You were supposed to marry someone you loved, not someone for whom you had a critical case of lust overload.

‘‘’Tay, Daddy, I’m ready.’’ Mollie’s book banged shut with a loud snap and he heard her scrambling to her feet.

‘‘I’d better take her home.’’ He knew it was a cop-out, saw the ember of hope in Kris’s eyes flicker and die. But he was too shaken by his thoughts to figure out what to do or say to repair the damage.

She slipped her hands free from his and walked around him to scoop up Mollie for a tickle and a kiss. ‘‘Thanks for making me dinner.’’ But she didn’t look at him again. ‘‘See you, squirt.’’

‘‘Bye, Mommy.’’ His daughter threw her arms around Kristin’s neck when she knelt and threw herself into Kris’s arms so wholeheartedly that Kristin had to put a hand hastily to the floor to keep them both from being pushed right over backward.

Mollie put her hands on either side of Kristin’s face and peered deep into her eyes. ‘‘Tiss.’’

‘‘Okay. A nice big kiss and then Daddy will take you home.’’ Kristin suited the words to the action.

Derek opened his mouth to remind Mollie not to call Kristin ‘‘Mommy.’’ But then he shut it again without speaking. His throat grew tight and he had to swallow the lump that rose as he watched his little girl hug Kristin. The love in their embrace was undeniable.

Mollie was right. For all practical purposes, Kris was her mother, the only one his child had ever known. Kristin had devoted herself to Mollie since her birth, because Deb had been too sick to handle the demands of a healthy infant, and she’d probably spent more time with his daughter than many working mothers did with their own offspring. Already, Mollie had known more of a mother’s love than Kristin had in her entire life.

Funny, he’d never really thought of the parallel before. Kristin’s mother had died of a cerebral hemorrhage hours after a fall on a patch of ice before Kristin was even a year old. Kris, better than anyone, knew what it was like to be motherless, and she’d devoted herself to making sure Mollie had never felt the same lack.

Was he crazy for refusing to consider a marriage between them?

Kristin rose, taking Mollie’s hand. He was prepared for her to avoid eye contact as she had in the past when things had gone wrong between them, so it was a shock to see her smiling at him as she handed off his daughter. An unpleasant shock. The smile was friendly and completely impersonal, as if they’d never kissed, never discussed anything more vital than the weather. And while he was trying to figure out what to say to her in this new mood, she herded them both out her front door. ‘‘See you around.’’

She shut the door and he heard the lock snick into place before he was even off the stoop. As he strapped Mollie into her car seat, he realized she hadn’t said she would see them Saturday night. Was she going to cancel on him?

She met the treasurer of the board of the sanctuary for lunch again on Friday. Rusty was a few minutes late and they ordered immediately, then he sat back and smiled at her.

‘‘So,’’ he said, ‘‘I guess you’re not keeping Dr. Mahoney’s little girl any more now that you’re working full-time for us.’’

She shook her head and smiled. ‘‘No.’’ She refused the urge to elaborate and waited for him to speak.

He studied her for a moment, and she wondered what he was thinking. ‘‘Kristin,’’ he finally said, ‘‘I’ll be honest. I’d like to ask you out. I just always thought that you and Derek—’’

‘‘—are both very aware that Mollie needs to grow up in a family atmosphere,’’ she finished when he hesitated. ‘‘Her mother died just months after she was born, remember?’’