The Baby Surprise / The Father for Her Son: The Baby Surprise

She smiled because she knew it was the response he expected. And because she didn’t doubt for a minute that he’d found himself the object of countless affections, though she wouldn’t assume that had anything to do with the uniform. Because even out of uniform, in only a pair of unzipped jeans, he was all too appealing.

She took back her glass of wine and swallowed a long, bracing gulp.

“What about you?” he asked. “Did you always know you were going to be a lawyer?”

“No,” she said. “In fact, I was in my second year studying geology when I had to vacate the apartment I was renting because it flooded. I ended up staying with a friend and the landlord took me to small-claims court to sue for nonpayment of rent.

“Of course, there was no way I could afford a lawyer to defend against the claim, so I started researching the law myself. In the end, I countersued for breach of contract, pointing out that I couldn’t be expected to live in an apartment that was eighteen inches underwater.”

“And you won,” he guessed.

She nodded. “That’s when I decided to go to law school.”

He shifted so that his knees were almost touching the side of her chair. The denim looked faded and worn and a lot softer than the rock-hard muscle that flexed beneath the fabric. Good Lord, just looking at the man’s quads had her heart pounding inside her chest and her fingers itching to touch. Instead, she curled them tighter around the glass.

She finished off her wine and stood up so that the lounger was between them. “And that’s where I met Olivia,” she reminded him—reminding both of them—of her close friendship with the woman who had been his lover and had likely given birth to his child.

“I cared about Olivia,” Zach told her, standing to block her access to the door. “I wouldn’t have been involved with her otherwise. But I wasn’t in love with her, and she wasn’t in love with me.”

She lifted a shoulder. “Your relationship with Olivia really isn’t any of my business.”

“And yet you keep throwing her name out whenever the topic of conversation touches on anything remotely personal, as if you’re deliberately putting up barriers between us.”

“She was one of my best friends.”

“Are you afraid that she would disapprove of my being here?”

She shook her head. “According to the letter you showed me, she wanted you to have the chance to get to know Emma.”

“I’m talking about my being here with you.”

“You’re not here with me,” she denied.

He smiled at that.

“I mean—you’re here and I’m here,” she explained, conscious of the heat suffusing her cheeks. “But we’re not together.”

“What if I want to change that?”

She shook her head again. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

He took a step closer. “Well, apparently, we have a difference of opinion.”

She lifted a hand to ward him off and sucked in a breath when her palm came into contact with his bare flesh. He was every bit as solid and warm as he looked, and she wanted—more than anything—to lean closer, to press herself against him, to feel the hard length of his body against hers.

“Zach.” She’d meant to speak his name as a warning. Instead, it sounded like a plea.

He took the empty wineglass from her hand and reached around her to set it back on the table. Then he lifted his hand to her face and gently cupped her cheek. The gesture was so unexpected, so tender, she nearly sighed.

“I just want to kiss you,” he said and brushed his thumb over the curve of her bottom lip, slowly, sensuously.

“Definitely not a good idea,” she said, all too aware that the breathless tone of her voice contradicted her words.

“Another difference of opinion,” he said easily, and lowered his mouth to hers.

Chapter Seven

She should pull away.

Paige knew that would be the smart thing to do. But Zach’s hands were on her face, gentle but firm, holding her immobile beneath the sensual onslaught of his lips. And even if she’d been able to move, the truth was, she didn’t want to.

His kiss was as gentle as his touch—and temptingly seductive. He kissed as she imagined he would make love—because yes, she had imagined not just kissing him but a whole lot more—slowly, deeply and incredibly thoroughly.

With a soft sigh, she parted her lips, meeting his tongue with her own. He tasted of the wine they’d both drank, but somehow his flavor was stronger, richer and even more intoxicating. As if of their own volition, her hands slid over the hard planes of his chest, over the tight muscles of his shoulders, to link behind his neck.

His fingers trailed down her throat, skimmed across her collarbone, then traced along the line of her spine, moving slowly downward until they curved around her bottom and pulled her closer. She felt the hard press of his arousal at the juncture of her thighs and moaned.

His kiss wasn’t so gentle now. It was hot and hungry and so fiercely passionate that it made her shiver. Not because she was afraid, but because her own desire was just as powerful and overwhelming.

She was hardly a virgin, but nothing in her experience had prepared her for being kissed by Zach Crawford. The kiss went on and on, and with each racing beat of her heart, the wanting inside of her grew stronger.

She didn’t know how far things might have gone if he’d wanted to push for more. But he didn’t push at all. In fact, he was the one who eventually eased away.

“I think you should go back up to bed now,” he whispered.

Her blood was still churning, her pulse pounding, her knees weak, but when he spoke, his voice was level and so carefully controlled that she might have thought the bone-melting kiss they’d just shared had no effect on him. Until she looked up at him, and the fire that continued to burn in his eyes proved otherwise.

To be wanted so much by such a man was … exhilarating. To want him so much that she couldn’t think about anything else was … terrifying.

She ordered her trembling legs to move and stepped toward the door. “Good night.”

Zach watched Paige slip back inside the house, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to follow. But he knew that what he needed right now was space—distance from the far-too-tempting woman who had him all tied up in knots.

Damn. He never should have kissed her.

If he hadn’t, he’d still be in the fantasy stage of wondering if her lips were as soft as they looked, if her taste was as sweet as he imagined. But the wondering had been driving him to distraction, and so he’d stopped speculating and started kissing—and the jolt of heat had seared him right down to his toes.

Chemistry between a man and woman was an unpredictable thing. Sometimes it was there, sometimes it wasn’t. He’d been attracted to other women before, and he’d learned that sometimes the chemistry sparked and sometimes it fizzled. With Paige, it was positively explosive.

A man had to be crazy to walk away from that kind of heat. Except that, in this case, Zach was all too aware that his efforts to stoke the flames between them could very well result in his getting burned.

And as much as he wanted Paige, he wouldn’t do anything that might jeopardize his relationship with the daughter he’d only just found. If he hadn’t already done so.

Because while he’d told himself it was “just a kiss”—and told her the same thing—they both knew it was a lie. There was nothing “just” about the kiss they’d shared. It wasn’t a simple touching of lips that was over and done. No, the kiss they’d shared had been a prelude to and a promise of so much more.

And she’d been an equal participant in the kiss. Yeah, maybe he’d started it—but within a few seconds, she’d been just as involved in the lip-lock as he and making just as many promises.

Thankfully, he’d learned a long time ago about the dangers of trusting in a woman’s promises, and he wouldn’t let himself get sucked in again.