His Ring, Her Baby / His Bride for the Taking: His Ring, Her Baby / His Bride for the Taking

Another couple danced too close and he had to move her out of the way. By the time she fell back into step, she hoped he’d let the subject of her marriage go.

He didn’t.

His eyes snagged hers, almost accusingly. “Why aren’t you wearing any rings?”

She’d known he’d noticed. “I’ve taken them off temporarily. They were too tight in the heat.”

Those blue eyes gave her the laser treatment. “You knew I thought you were available.”

Her lips twisted. “You probably think every woman is available.”

“Aren’t they?” he mocked.

She sucked in a sharp breath at his arrogance. The road to Sydney must be littered with women who threw themselves at him, but that was no excuse for—

Just then, she saw Cindy standing near the kitchen door carrying her son. “Josh!” She immediately forgot Kirk as she left his arms and hurried over to the babysitter. “Is something wrong? What’s the matter?” She didn’t know what she’d do if anything happened to him.

“I think he heard your voice before. He started crying and won’t settle.” Cindy pulled a face. “I’m sorry to drag you away.”

“Don’t be,” Vanessa said, lifting Josh in her arms, relieved he wasn’t sick. His eyes were wet from crying. She kissed his cheek and smoothed the blond hair off his forehead. “How’s Toby?”

“Sound asleep,” Cindy said. “I’d better get back to him. Do you want me to take Josh back? He might settle now that he’s seen you.”

“No, that’s fine. I think I’ll take him home now.” It was getting late and she needed no better excuse to get out of here.

Cindy nodded, then disappeared through the kitchen door.

Vanessa hugged Josh closer, smelling his soft, sweet scent. “Time to take you home and put you to bed, little man.” She turned around to find Linda or Hugh and tell them that she was leaving so they wouldn’t worry.

She froze. Kirk. He’d followed her.

His eyes had an odd glitter. “He’s yours?”

She swallowed then nodded, proud of her son but feeling the awkwardness of the moment.

“I’ll carry him for you,” he said in a brusque voice.

She stiffened. “No, the apartment’s only out the back.”

“You could fall over in those heels,” he said, making her aware he missed nothing about her.

Suddenly she had to get out of here … away from the restaurant … away from Kirk Deverill. She had to keep a physical distance, if only to maintain an emotional one.

“No, I’ll be fine.”

He said something low under his breath. “I insist.” His eyes held hers. He wasn’t going to give up.

She expelled a shaky sigh. “Okay, but I have to find Linda first and tell her I’ve gone.”

“She’s over near the bar.”

She looked and saw Linda near the bar, standing beneath the Happy Anniversary banner. Her cousin waved at them and Vanessa indicated she was taking Josh home, and received a speculative look and a nod of acknowledgment.

Then she let Kirk lift Josh from her arms, half expecting Josh to cry—and wishing he would—only he didn’t. Then she and Kirk left via the kitchen. Phyllis and a waitress looked up as they passed through, but Vanessa gave a bright smile and hoped she wasn’t tomorrow’s gossip. And if she was then it was only one person’s fault.

His.

Looking directly ahead, she didn’t talk as her high heels tapped along the well-lit driveway until they came to the converted garage. Once inside the apartment, she waited until Kirk placed Josh in his crib, then she tucked her son in and moved back into the living room. She saw Kirk’s gaze as he took in the room with its polished wood floor, comfortable sofa and handmade cushions.

For a long moment his blue eyes rested on the wedding photograph of her and Mike, who’d been so handsome in his policeman’s uniform.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thanks for carrying Josh for me.”

He drew his gaze away from the photograph and looked at her, an unreadable expression in his eyes. “No problem.”

Trying to look experienced at this sort of thing, she walked toward him and held out her hand. “I guess this is good night.”

His hand slid over hers like a glove. “I guess it is.”

She realized her mistake then. She hadn’t wanted to touch him. Hadn’t wanted to feel his skin against her own, not even in the most casual way.

And she knew that wasn’t true.

She wanted to touch him.

And there would be nothing cavalier about it.

Something must have shown on her face because he gave a sharp intake of breath. The next instant he brought her hand to his mouth and ever so slowly he kissed the inside of her wrist.

Heat arrowed into her belly, igniting her blood like she had never known before, not even with Mike. Loving Mike had been simple and uncomplicated. Somehow she knew it wouldn’t be like that with Kirk.

He dropped her hand and stepped back. “Goodbye, Vanessa,” he said thickly, and moved toward the front door.

Then he was gone.

The door shut behind him.

She stood there shaking. Then, stunned by what just one touch could do to her, she collapsed on the couch, her thoughts tumbling down like the house made of straw. Now that she was alone, she wanted him back, wanted him to touch her more, make love to her.

Oh, Lord. What was the matter with her? Mike was still her husband in her heart; meanwhile she longed to hop into bed with the first good-looking man that had come along. What had happened to remaining true to Mike’s memory? The father of her child. Kirk Deverill dredged up emotions she intended to keep hidden. Emotions of desire and need that shouldn’t be there. Her husband had only been dead six months. How could she yearn to be held close by someone else so soon? A stranger no less.

Her heart squeezed with pain but she didn’t cry. The season had come and gone for more tears.

And this feeling for Kirk?

It, too, would pass.

An hour later Vanessa still hadn’t fallen asleep. She felt wound up, like a mouse running around one of those exercise wheels. Perhaps a few slow laps of the pool would relax her.