The Playboy's Baby(32)

“I suppose that was bound to happen sooner or later.” Breathless, his mouth curled into that heart-stopping grin, the one that made her weak in the knees. “I had the biggest crush on you in high school. I thought I’d gotten over that, but seeing you again…”

Her heart skipped a beat and her mouth dropped open. He had a crush? On her? Her mind rejected the idea.

She shook her head. “I’m not the kind of person boys fantasize about, Dillon.”

“If you think that, you have a very warped view of yourself.” Almost hesitantly, his hand moved, stroking her cheek with a tenderness that stole the breath from her lungs. “I happen to think you’re beautiful.”

His words, the honesty in his soft voice, pulled her gaze to his. If she doubted what his eyes clearly told her, the proof lay beneath her palms. His heartbeat hammered, matching the quick, fierce rhythm of hers.

Panic rushed up. Wants and needs and fears rose to the surface before she could stop them. She wanted the passion his eyes promised. Dillon made her want it, and his confession only made her ache for it, but her body trembled, memories rising over her. That long ago night, the darkened car. The cruel words. She knew where things like this led.

Part of her wanted to scream. She was thirty years old for crying out loud. It was past time to learn what passion felt like, past time to give herself permission, but the very thought scared her to death.

On top of it, Dillon was off limits. She would not entertain those thoughts. He was her niece’s father, her sister’s lover. If she gave in, she’d be what that cruel boy accused her of that night so long ago.

Emma shook her head. “That can’t happen again.”

“Agreed.”

The shock of his words hit her stomach like a wayward arrow. Disappointment surged through her system.

It must have shown on her face, for he stroked his fingers over her chin. “I’m not relationship material.” Regret tinged his tone. “Annie’s all I can handle right now.”

She nodded, understood, and firmly agreed with him, but couldn’t stop the feeling from eating up her stomach nonetheless. She lowered her gaze to the ground, unable to form a coherent thought or make sense out of the confusing tumble of emotions. What on earth did she say to him now? In the seconds that ticked by, Dillon’s body began to tremble.

“You must be cold.” Thankful for the saving grace, she released him and took a step back. A shiver raked the length of her spine at the loss of his warmth and solidness. Her knees wobbled, making her overly aware of the hold he had on her. Aware of how easily he could get to her and how very much her body craved his touch.

And how much she shouldn’t want it.

Dillon nodded and ran his hands up and down his bare arms. “Freezing, actually. What do you say we get Annie and get out of here?”

She nodded, following behind him when he made his way back to the house. It was a good thing she was going home tonight. The time apart would do them a world of good. She could take the time to shore up her defenses against him.





Chapter Seven





He shouldn’t have touched her.

The knowledge reverberated in Dillon’s head an hour later. Across the room, Emma stood in the kitchen, head bent over her task. She was writing down Annie’s schedule for him. She feigned indifference, but her shoulders were set a little too stiffly. Her amber eyes held an unmistakable wary edge whenever she glanced at him. Dread sat heavy in his chest. There was a distinct distance and tension between them since they left his parents’ place.

Whatever small measure of trust he’d managed to develop between them had been blown to bits, all because he gave in to temptation and kissed her. The sad truth was he couldn’t be sorry for doing it. He’d kiss her again in a heartbeat.

Which was exactly the problem. He’d been wrong. Very, very wrong. One kiss hadn’t quenched his thirst. Rather, it only increased his craving. To see the desire in her eyes when she looked at him was one thing, but to feel it in her kiss, in the way her body melted into his, was something else entirely.

That unease on her face now didn’t help any. It made him long to do exactly what he shouldn’t—go to her, touch her, do whatever it took to alleviate the look.

Emma’s hand paused. She blew out a heavy breath and looked at him. The miserable look in her eyes wrenched at his gut. “I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I can leave her.”

Damn. Obviously, his father had gotten to her more than he originally suspected.

“It’s going to be fine. I promise.”

She vehemently shook her head, worry forming a deep crease between her brows. “I’m not comfortable leaving her with your father.”