“Tough fellow.”
Stopping beside Connor, she said softly, “He’s so little.”
“And amazingly resilient.”
“And we’re responsible for him.”
“I still find it tough to believe that we’re now standing in loco parentis.” Connor gazed down at the baby with an expression Victoria could not decipher.
In the place of his parents.
It brought home the reality of the responsibility facing them. And how permanent the arrangement was. It was vital for her and Connor to work together. For all intents and purposes they were now Dylan’s parents. The only difference between them was that she really was Dylan’s mother.
Her baby lay so still in the crib that she leant forward to touch him.
“He’s sleeping—I checked, too.” Connor gave her a slight smile. Then his gaze dropped and grew warm.
Victoria glanced down, to find that her dressing gown tie had come undone and fallen open to reveal the white lace, diaphanous nightgowns that she favored.
She flushed. “I think I’ll call it a night.”
And when Connor responded, “That’s a very good idea.” She had no idea what to make of his reply.
Chapter Eight
“Truce?” Connor offered at breakfast on Saturday.
After a moment Victoria took the hand he held out. This was the closest Connor would come to an apology for employing Anne without her input. “Truce,” she agreed.
For Dylan’s sake.
And for her own. She had to learn to get on with Connor better. But it wasn’t easy—he could be so dominating.
“Anne’s very good with Dylan,” she conceded. She felt the day brighten when Connor grinned at her.
“Let’s take Dylan out today to celebrate his recovery,” he suggested as he reached for a slice of toast.
“Today?”
Dismayed, Victoria stared at him. She’d intended to wash her hair while Dylan had his morning nap. The week had sped past, and between work and Dylan she’d hardly had a moment to call her own. She hadn’t even had an opportunity to try out the large bath with jets in the guest en suite bathroom.
Connor’s face hardened. “I’ll take him to the zoo alone—and you can go to work.”
Annoyance ignited within her. This was his idea of a truce? “I had no intention of working this weekend. And the zoo sounds fantastic. I just wanted an hour to—” washing her hair sounded so self-indulgent and would no doubt unleash more contempt “—to take a shower.”
“How about I feed Dylan and keep him out of your hair for an hour and we leave a little later?”
“That would be wonderful.” She beamed at Connor, her heart lighter than it had been for weeks. “Thank you.”
Two lionesses lolled about on their backs like giant kittens on a grassy hillock, revealing creamy tummies to the delighted crowd that had taken advantage of the sunny day to visit the zoo.
Dylan gurgled in his pushchair and several children shrieked as one of the lionesses rolled over lithely and rose to her feet, before padding to the edge of the moat that divided the big cats from the spectators.
After the giant feline had finished drinking and had flopped down on a sunny rock, Connor and Victoria meandered farther along the path, Connor pushing the baby’s loaded buggy, to where two elephants picked at a hay net with their trunks.
Connor glanced over at Victoria. Since they’d gotten to the zoo she’d attracted a fair amount of second looks. With her hair as sleek and shiny in the sunlight as polished mahogany and her hazel eyes alight with excitement, she looked happier than he’d ever seen her.
And, dammit, she was downright gorgeous.
To get his attention off the way her white denim skirt clung to her posterior, Connor swept Dylan out of his pushchair and held him high.
“See the elephants, Dylan?” Victoria pointed and her buttoned yellow cardigan pulled taut across her br**sts.
Connor stifled a groan and his hands involuntarily tightened on the baby, who muttered a protest and wriggled in Connor’s arms.
“Sorry, mate.”
But Dylan had already stilled at the sight of the huge pachyderms as the nearest elephant flapped its ears. A chortle escaped—the sound of baby delight.
Connor laughed aloud and his eyes caught Victoria’s over Dylan’s head. For a second they shared a pure joy. Then Dylan began to bump up and down in Connor’s arms in excitement.
“Whoa, that’s an elephant, Dyl. He’s too big to pick a fight with.”
“Size doesn’t matter,” said Victoria.
Connor shot her a glance. Nope, she wouldn’t hold back against a bigger opponent.
High color flagged her cheeks. “Sorry, that came out wrong. What I meant to say was that Dylan should never let himself be intimidated.”
His mouth twitching, Connor cocked his head to one side and considered her. “So you’re conceding size does count?”
She gave him a quick up-down look and Connor waited for the acid comeback. Instead he encountered eyes filled with flustered nervousness.
He’d unsettled her. Score to him.
Connor grinned inwardly.
She blinked rapidly. “I’m just saying the giant doesn’t always win—remember David and Goliath.”
He swept his gaze slowly over her. “You don’t look like any David I’ve ever met.”
She made a sound of mock disgust. Connor threw back his head and laughed, and a moment later, to his astonishment, Victoria joined in.
He held out a hand to her. “Let’s go see the otters.”
To his surprise she reached for his hand, her fingers linking through his, the pushchair trailing in her other hand. Heat bolted through him and all laughter vanished as he looked at her—really looked at her—with a shaken sense of never having seen her before.
Then Dylan butted him, claiming his attention, and Connor came back to reality with a thump.
Later Victoria helped Connor lay a rug down on the freshly mown grass in front of an empty bandstand near a lake with ducks and swans. Connor rolled on his back, pulling Dylan onto his chest while Victoria knelt beside him and reached for the picnic basket they’d brought along.
It was all so domestic.
And most amazing of all, she and Connor hadn’t argued once.
He was holding Dylan above him on outstretched arms, making airplane noises. Laughter lines crinkled his cheeks. God, he was gorgeous.
An unwanted echo of that moment when their eyes had locked—of the scintillating awareness that had sizzled earlier—sent a frisson through her.
No.
She was not falling into that trap. Connor was her coguardian, not a prospective date. She daren’t start finding him attractive.
Looking away, she rummaged into the basket and pulled out a container of sandwiches that Moni had prepared.
The thud on her back took her breath away. Her eyes shot open in time to see a football rolling along the blanket and a pair of sneakers following in swift pursuit. Boyish hands scooped the ball up.
“Jordan, apologize at once!”
“Sorry.” A sheepish grin appeared from beneath a baseball cap. “Won’t do it again.” A singsong note of overuse underlay the words.
Her breath back, Victoria suppressed the urge to call him a name—or worse, grin at him and condone the carelessness. “Perhaps kick the ball the other way.”
Connor sat up beside her, perching Dylan on his knee, and gave the boy a level stare.
“No, I’ve already told Jordan that he’s not to lose a fifty-dollar ball in the tiger’s cage.” A harried-looking woman with red hair standing up in spikes had appeared. “You have to be more careful, boy.”
But Jordan was already gone, zigzagging over the lawn, dribbling the ball ahead of him.
“Kids.” The woman rolled her eyes. Then she added, “At least yours is still harmless. Enjoy him while you can. It gets worse.”
Victoria started to correct the redhead, to tell her that Dylan wasn’t their baby. Then she stopped herself. It was just too hard to explain.
So she smiled instead. “We will.”
“Your baby’s very cute.”
Dylan gurgled and blew a raspberry on cue.
“Thanks.”
Jordan’s mother shifted her attention to Connor. “He’s going to have his mother’s goldy-brown eyes and his father’s dimples.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Connor said politely.
Victoria could’ve kissed him for silently standing by her decision to say as little as possible.
Victoria had laughed with Suzy in the past when complete strangers had told short, blonde, bubbly Suzy how much the newborn Dylan looked like her—not realizing he didn’t possess any of Suzy’s DNA. Now the memory made her ache with loneliness.
“I’d better find Jordan before he wrecks the place.” The redhead scanned the surroundings until she found her son. “Or lands in the pond with the goldfish!” She gave them a rueful smile. “I made the mistake of having only one—so when he doesn’t have a friend, guess who has to play with him?” She thrust a thumb at her chest. “Me. Don’t do what I did. Make sure you have another kid to keep yours company.”
Victoria fidgeted, uncomfortably hot at the too-tempting idea of creating a baby with Connor. Thankfully, Jordan’s mother didn’t seem to expect a reply; she simply wiggled her fingers at Dylan before vanishing in Jordan’s wake.
After what seemed an age Victoria couldn’t bear the tingling silence any longer. Unable to help herself, she turned her head. And instantly wished she’d resisted the lure.
Connor was staring at her with predatory speculation, and the normally cool eyes simmered with heat.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Victoria pulled herself together. It was up to her to defuse this sexual tension, and as rapidly as possible.
She chose to do so with humor. “Poor Jordan. What on earth is his mother going to tell his girlfriends one day?”
Connor flung his head back and laughed. And the strange, heavy ache below her heart expanded, filling her with a yearning she’d never expected.
The day ended all too soon.
After securing Dylan in the backseat, Connor held the Maserati’s passenger door open for Victoria. And found himself staring at her legs with all the frustrated hunger of a university student eager for his first lay.
They were nice legs. Encased in opaque winter stockings, they were shapely, too. So why the hell hadn’t he noticed them before?
Probably because he’d never seen them. She usually wore black trousers, or long skirts in neutral colors. Black, navy or gray. She never wore a denim skirt that rode up.
Like now.
But he shouldn’t feel this … desperate … about stroking them.
She cleared her throat. “You can shut the door.”
Caught.
“Sorry.” He shook his head sheepishly. “Don’t know what I was thinking.”
She gave him an old-fashioned look. He shrugged and decided to try for some damage control. He didn’t need her knowing how she’d tied him into damned Gordian knots. “So I’ve always been a bit of a leg man—blame a male’s basic instincts.”
“Control those instincts.” But she laughed, flushing a little. “You’ve spent too long around the animals today, I think.”
“Perhaps,” he conceded.
If she only knew how much testosterone her spontaneous smile and slender body had unleashed, she’d be running for the hills—with him in hot pursuit.
He closed the door with a snap and strode around to the driver’s side.
A stolen sideways glance revealed that despite Dylan’s inquisitive fingers her hair was still sleek. Yet sometime during the day she’d lost the faint tension that always seemed to cling to her. It must be the fact that a smile had never been far from her lips.
It wasn’t something she did often enough.
He fired up the Maserati and pulled out onto the road. “Tired?” he asked as he stopped for a red light.
“Exhausted.”
He pushed the gearshift into neutral and turned his head. “At least I’m not alone in that.”
The smile she gave him caused his groin to tighten.
“But it was worth it,” she said. “Thanks. It was a great idea.”
Connor told himself to keep it light. “Zoos were created for adults.”
She tilted her head. “Why do you say that?”
“Didn’t you notice the amount of newborns and young babies? All those parents have been waiting years to legitimately get back into a zoo, bitterly regretting the day they told their parents that thirteen made them too cool for kiddie outings.”
She laughed.
Then she ruined his pleasure by pointing out, “The lights have changed.”
“Thanks.” Connor put the car into gear and accelerated smoothly away.
“You could be right. I think most of the parents there today were having more fun than the kids.” She leaned her head back on the headrest. “Dylan certainly slept through a good part of the day.”
And it had been during those spells that he’d been tempted to give in to the devilish urge to kiss her. Hot memories of the last time he’d kissed her—when she’d almost ended up totally nak*d on his lap—had kept him awake more than one night since she’d moved in. But he’d resisted it, fearing he might destroy the delicate truce that had developed between them.
“I had fun,” he murmured finally.
“Me, too.”
Her voice was smiling. Connor wished he could take his eyes from the road to study her, to see if the corners of her mouth had tipped up into that irresistible curve.
Okay, he wanted her. There. He’d admitted it. He wanted to soak himself in the scent of her, wanted to sate himself in her body.
So where did that leave him?
Connor started through the options with relentless efficiency. He would have to invest time in this—Victoria wouldn’t accept anything less, he was certain of that.