In the meantime, everyone was benefiting from the situation. Precious had a nanny; she had a job and a place to live; and Erik, well, he had adult conversation during dinner, someone with whom to share his daily achievements.
She was sure there was nothing special about it. He probably had a similar relationship with Holly when she was the nanny. It was foolish to entertain the idea that she could ever be more than a live-in babysitter.
Michelle found Erik in the study leafing through a medical journal. “Precious is ready for you,” she said, her heart fluttering at the sight of him reclined comfortably on the sofa.
He looked up and his eyes scanned down her body. “You’re wet.”
Michelle glanced down at the shirt she wore over a pair of old jeans. Sure enough, the front was damp from giving Precious a bath. It wasn’t soaked, but it might as well have been, from the way it clung to her body.
She should have changed, she realized—too late—as she felt her nipples harden under his dark gaze. She’d taken off her bra because her breasts became excruciatingly tender when she was ovulating. She was ovulating tonight, and from the heat in her belly, she bet her optimistic eggs were on the lookout for a wandering sperm to make some magic happen.
Instinctively, her arms folded across her bosom. The pep talk she’d given herself just a minute ago meant nothing. Her traitorous body was crying out for this man like it had never cried for any other. She hadn’t even felt this kind of excitement the night she gave her virginity to Ryan.#p#分页标题#e#
He was the only man she’d ever been with, but from the experiences, she’d long ago determined that sex was highly overrated. When Ryan brought up the subject of marriage, Michelle had fled from that relationship. No way was she going to suffer through a lifetime of boring sex and faked orgasms. She’d rather stay single.
Well, that was until she met this man who made her body throb from just thinking about him. “I’ll go change my shirt.” She would have to change her panties, too. They were soaked.
She noticed the muscles in Erik’s jaws tighten as he got up from the sofa. He came and stood next to her, looking down with open desire in his gold-flecked eyes. She heard the long deep intake of air into his lungs before he strolled out of the room. He hadn’t touched her, but he’d left his mark on her, nonetheless.
Michelle’s body quivered as she watched Erik walk away from her. She could smell the desire in him. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him, but in his book, it was unethical to have a sexual liaison with his daughter’s nanny.
Besides, the man was still in love with his dead wife. She wasn’t competing with that.
Michelle was sitting on a lounge chair on the patio off the kitchen, gazing up at a starless sky and listening to crickets chirping in the woods behind the house, when Erik came out and eased into a chair next to her. He crossed one leg over the other, and leaned his head back.
There was no moon to light the night and the lights in the kitchen were turned down low. A slight breeze cooled the night air as they sat quietly. She was happy he couldn’t see her because she hadn’t changed her shirt. The coolness of the cloth against her skin reminded her of the charged, two-sentence conversation the wet shirt had sparked.
His breathing filled the air around her, causing tension to build. Michelle knew she should say something, anything to break the silence, yet she waited for him to start. She’d come out here to escape a run-in with him and collect her thoughts before going upstairs to work on her book.
She supposed he had sought her out because he had something to say. The only time they really talked was at the dinner table, or when they had to discuss Precious’ schedule, including her activities, which had been cut to two—ballet and swimming.
Usually, after tucking Precious into bed, he’d escape to his study and she would open up her laptop. Writing had become a pleasurable escape for her to keep her mind off him. She was sure it was because she was writing about the kids at the youth center, kids she loved and could relate to. She missed them, and turning their experiences into a book made her feel closer to them, like Jo in Little Women, writing about her and her sisters’ lives.
All the proceeds from her book, when and if she sold it, would go to the center. Since she’d left Manchester, she called the center every day, just to check in with Rose, one of the women who helped out. She wanted to make sure all the kids were okay, that none of them needed anything. She wanted so badly to go see them, but she couldn’t leave Precious alone and she didn’t dare take her back to ‘that kind of neighborhood’ again.