The Cowboy's Baby(27)

He tasted like the chocolate chili sauce she’d made, that and his own spicy tang that was all his own, that reminded her of summer and sunshine and made her long for him to carry her right into the gardens beyond the house and lay her down on the soft grass to make love to her until she couldn’t remember where he ended and she began. For a split second, she wished that what was between them had nothing to do with the baby swelling in her womb – that he was just a man and she just a woman and their want was all that mattered.

At that moment, a low buzzing came from between them, startling the young woman into breaking the kiss as she tried to clear her mind of the haze of want that enveloped it. When the buzzing came again, Daniel cursed lowly, reaching between them to extract his cell phone from his pocket. He glanced at screen before scowling momentarily. When his eyes met Esme’s once more, however, the remnants of lust still burned there. “I have to take this. I’m sorry.”

A small sound of surprise escaped her as Daniel easily lifted her from his lap to set her carefully on her feet. He rose to his feet to pad from the kitchen, answering his phone as he went. As the sounds of the man’s smooth baritone faded to a low murmur, Esme took a deep breath, slowly coming back to herself.

This man was dangerous. She should have known it from the first moment she’d seen him, but Esme had foolishly believed that she could somehow fight Daniel’s ridiculously enticing allure.

She’d been wrong – that much was obvious.

And now she was in a house with a man who had no idea how much power he had over her – had no idea his innate charm and the desperation with which he sought an accepting woman appealed to her.

Steeling herself, Esme took up the dishes she’d attempted to wash once more, carrying them over to the sink. She had to regain some modicum of control here. If Daniel could take her apart with one kiss, she could only imagine what the man might do to her if he got her in bed.

Glancing down at her stomach, Esme sighed softly. “Your Dad is going to be the death of me, little bean. For sure. If your mom doesn’t kill me first.”



**

Daniel watched her.

Leaning over the balcony that overlooked the kitchen and great room, he watched Esme flit around the kitchen, mixing ingredients for what he presumed to be some kind of muffin. She hadn’t even put them into the oven and already they smelled heavenly.

The woman worked wonders in the kitchen – to a point where he wondered how he couldn’t have known such a thing about her from the get go. Surely it should have been written somewhere in her surrogate profile? Not only was she intelligent, the host of impeccably good genes, but also she could cook like no chef he’d ever sampled before.

She had an innovative, interesting approach to food – didn’t try to plate it as if it were some sort of high end decadence and didn’t speak of her talent as if she felt she deserved anything from her cooking alone.

But her skill was evident.

While she was unaware, he watched her movements about the kitchen, smiled as she hummed softy to herself. It was such a wonder to see a smiling woman in his house after so long. When he tried to remember the last time Alyssa had smiled for him…he couldn’t.

What the hell had happened to them, he wondered? When they’d met, everything had been wonderful, and now, he was alone, anticipating the birth of the baby she didn’t want…with a woman who intrigued him far more than he wanted to admit.

He’d told her how much he wanted to kiss her –and that in itself had been enough to make him question everything he and Alyssa had ever had; but when he had actually kissed her again, he hadn’t lied. He didn’t want this to be about the woman who’d left him..

If he was going to keep kissing Esme – keep touching, keep watching his child grow large in her belly – it couldn’t be about Alyssa.

Not anymore.

She’d been gone for almost two and a half months and he’d heard nothing from her. Perhaps it was time for him to truly consider that she might not be returning. The idea of a child being more important than her, it seemed, was too much.

It might be the biggest sign he’d seen, to date, indicating that perhaps he and the fiery Latina weren’t meant to be. Now, watching Esme, knowing that she was just the vessel within which his child grew – that she didn’t want children of her own – he could see her as more of a mother figure than the woman he loved.

It was a sobering thought, to say the least; but before Daniel could get too wrapped up in it, the doorbell rang. Esme’s head jerked up from where she was pouring batter into muffin pans even as he descended the stairs.