Her Little Secret, His Hidden Heir(18)

Or maybe because she was simply irresistible. For him, she always had been.

It almost didn't surprise him that they'd made a child together at the   very moment that their marriage had been falling apart around them.   Despite their differences and the problems that had plagued them there   at the end, physical compatibility had never even made it onto the list.   No matter how bad a day either of them might be having, no matter how   big a fight they might have had, it never seemed to take them long to   come back together and set the sheets on fire.

It was a relief to know that hadn't changed. They were no longer   married, she'd hidden his son from him and neither of them had a very   clear vision of what the future held, but at least he knew the passion   was still there. More than passion-lust and longing and desire thick   enough to land a 747 on.

His leg brushed against hers beneath the covers and a jolt of that   passion times ten shot through him. She jerked away from him, letting   him know in no uncertain terms that his current state of semi-arousal   would definitely be going to waste.

"You're right," he said, agreeing with her earlier statement. "Probably   wasn't the wisest thing to do. At least not under the current   circumstances."

"There's the understatement of the century," she grumbled, rolling to   the side of the bed and carefully sliding her bare legs out from under   the top sheet.

She sat there for a minute, not moving, and Marc took the opportunity to   admire the short fall of her copper hair around her shoulders, the   supple line of her spine, and the gentle curves of her torso from the   back. She'd put on a bit of weight with the pregnancy, but it didn't   take away from her attractiveness one damn bit.

If anything, it made her even more beautiful, filling her out with   sensual, womanly curves in all the right places. He had certainly   enjoyed exploring those curves with his hands and lips, feeling them so   soft and gentle against his much harder naked length.

One corner of his mouth lifted in amusement, not only from the   delectable view, but from the snarky tone of her voice. She'd always had   such a way with words, and a way of delivering them that often   delighted him.

It had annoyed the hell out of her when she'd been in a snit, telling   him off, and would catch him grinning. Not because he wasn't listening   or taking her seriously, but because he'd always loved watching her and   listening to her-even when she was chewing him out.

The way she moved, pacing back and forth and waving her arms. The way   her brea**sts rose and fell in agitation, following the cadence of her   rant. What could he say … it turned him on. And nine times out of ten,   their arguments had led to phenomenal make-up sex, so there was really   no downside to riling her up a little more by letting her think he was   laughing off her anger or upset.

In hindsight, he could see how that might have led to some of the   problems that had prompted them to split. He'd never meant to deride her   feelings or opinions on anything, he'd simply believed their   relationship was secure enough that any differences or misunderstandings   they had would blow over just as they had in the past.

How wrong he'd been. And he hadn't seen it coming until it was too late. Too damn late.

"It can't happen again," she said, still facing the other direction.

For a moment, he remained trapped in his head and thought she was   talking about their divorce. That definitely couldn't happen again, and   if he had it to do over, it might not have happened in the first place.

Then he realized she meant the sex. Tonight's unplanned, unexpected, but definitely not unsatisfying, indiscretion.

"Marc," she said when he didn't respond. Twisting slightly, she tilted   her head until she could see him from the corner of her eye, then   repeated more firmly, "This can't happen again."                       
       
           



       

Rolling to his side, he propped himself up on one elbow, letting silence   fill the room while he studied her. After a minute or two, he  murmured,  "What do you want me to say, Vanessa? That I'm sorry we made  love? That  I don't hope we get the chance to do it again … frequently and  with great  enthusiasm?" He shrugged the shoulder that wasn't holding  him up.  "Sorry, but I'm not going to do that."

"What is wrong with you?" she charged, all but leaping from the bed,   dragging the sheet along with her. It caught on the corners of the   mattress, of course, but not before sliding from his hips and leaving   him in the buff down to his ankles.

She turned, yanking at the cheap, industrial grade white cotton until it   came free, pointedly ignoring his total nudity. With a huff, she  yanked  the quilted coverlet from the foot of the bed and tossed it over  him,  head and all. He chuckled, lowering it just in time to watch her  wrap  the sheet like a toga around her own naked form.

"We're divorced, Marcus," she pointed out, as though he weren't   painfully aware of their current marital status. Or lack thereof.

She stormed around the room gathering her clothing, piece by discarded   piece. "Divorced couples aren't supposed to sleep together."

"Maybe not, but we both know it happens all the time." He waved a hand   to encompass the rumpled bed and their current states of postcoital   undress.

"Well, it shouldn't," she argued back, doing her best to hold up the   sheet while she struggled into her underwear. "Besides, you hate me."

A beat passed while the air in the room sizzled with growing tension. "Says who?"

At the softly spoken question, Vanessa jerked to a halt and lifted her   head to meet his gaze. The lower half of the sheet, which had been hiked   up around her thighs while she fought with her panties, fell to the   ground.

"Don't you?" she asked just as softly. "I mean, you do. I know you do.   Or at least, you should. I didn't tell you I was pregnant. I didn't tell   you about Danny."

His brows crossed and his mouth dipped down in a scowl at the reminder.   He'd been working hard to forget that part of his reason for being in   town. Or more to the point, had been willing to suspend his anger and   feelings of betrayal long enough to partake of Vanessa's lovely body and   enjoy the tactile sensations of having her in his arms and bed again   after so long.

He took in her still half-naked form, wrapped like a Greek goddess in   pristine white cotton. Sure, all of the reasons he should hate her were   still there. And no doubt they had many issues to work out. But for  some  reason, at that moment, he just couldn't get his temper to flare.

"Here's a bit of advice," he told her, cocking a brow and trying not to   let his frown slip up into a grin. "When someone has temporarily   forgotten that they have a reason to be mad at you, it's probably better   not to remind them."

"But you should be mad at me," she said quietly, holding his gaze for a   long, drawn out second before turning her back to him and continuing to   dress.

Marc watched as she struggled with her bra, then let the sheet fall as   she hooked the bit of lingerie behind her back. He watched the light   play on the pale canvas of her skin and the smooth lines of her body as   she moved.

Interesting, he thought, fighting the urge to drag her back to bed. She seemed to want him to be angry with her.

On the one hand, at least he knew she hadn't slept with him in an effort   to cloud his mind and seduce him into forgetting that she tried to  keep  his son from him. On the other, she'd have been wise to do almost   anything to stay on his good side at this point. To avoid acrimony, a   possible custody battle or to keep him from simply picking up and taking   Danny home with him, leaving her few options to get him back.

Granted, before today, he hadn't spoken with Vanessa in over a year, and   the fact that she'd left him meant he probably hadn't understood her   all that well to begin with. But the only explanation he could think of   for why she'd remind him of what stood between them was that she needed   something between them. A wall. A barrier.

If he hated her, he might not want to be with her again. If he hated   her, he might get fed up and storm home to Pittsburgh-preferably without   Danny.

Oh, they'd work out some sort of custody agreement. On that, he would   insist. And he was sure Vanessa wouldn't argue too strongly against it,   not now. Agreeing to let him see Danny on a regular basis or even let   him take their son back to Pittsburgh for the occasional extended visit   would be the lesser of two evils for her now.