Nicole shouldn’t have been hypnotized by his actions, but she couldn’t look away. Nor could she force herself into motion. For pity’s sake, he wasn’t going to get nak*d, but his movements were every bit as erotic as a slow striptease, and the show sent a surge of energy through her like she’d never before experienced.
Her exhaustion vanished, and tension fisted beneath her navel as he peeled off the dress shirt to reveal a snug white T-shirt underneath. The cotton molded his muscular chest and his pectorals as he braced himself on the roof with one arm and leaned in to lay his shirt and tie on top of his coat. Shadows of the dark whorls of his chest hair and the tiny beads of his n**ples showed through the thin fabric.
Should she play it safe and insist he take her back to the office, or could she count on her usual aplomb to get her through this meal? Her stomach rumbled, giving her an answer—just not the one she wanted. She didn’t want to spend time with him, but she’d be wise to take advantage of the opportunity she’d been presented, learn everything she could about him and find any weaknesses Beth and Patrick might use against him in a custody battle.
Resigned to her fate, she shoved open her door and hauled herself and the food out of the car before he reached her side. He took the bag from her.
“You’ll be more comfortable without the sweater.”
She glanced down at the black silk tie-waist cardigan she’d thrown over her burgundy camisole this morning when there’d been a slight chill in the air. The sun shone down from a blue cloudless sky, warming her skin, and a gentle breeze teased her hair, tugging strands free from her clip and blowing them across her face. She smoothed her hair back but bits slipped free again. It was a beautiful day, one of the few warm ones left before fall’s frost nipped the air. Why not enjoy it?
She removed her sweater and dropped it on the car seat. Ryan pivoted and strode down the sidewalk toward the bobbing boats, his long, athletic stride eating up the distance.
Determined to eat quickly and get back to work, she followed him. He boarded a fast-looking white boat with a red racing stripe, set down the bag and then turned and held out his hand. “Pass me your shoes.”
Second thoughts about spending the next hour on the water with him intruded, but she nonetheless removed her high-heeled pumps and gave them to him. He tucked her shoes in a side cubbyhole and once more offered assistance. “Come aboard.”
Touching him again was a bad idea, but slipping might hurt the baby. She reluctantly laid her palm in his. Her body instantly responded with unwelcome enthusiasm to his heat and strength, and she had to fight the knee-jerk reaction to yank away. The boat rocked beneath her feet, but Ryan held her steady.
He pointed to the seat curving around the back of the craft. “Sit and relax. I’ll get us underway.”
She was too wound up to sit and there wasn’t enough room to pace, so she stood, her toes digging into the short, thick, red carpet. But as she watched him move about the boat she couldn’t help wondering if her child would inherit his athletic grace, his power. Would he or she grow up learning Ryan’s old-fashioned courtly gestures?
Not if Patrick raises him.
The words dive-bombed her brain like an annoying mosquito. She swatted them away. Patrick was the best father for her child. He was gentle and kind and patient, an intellectual with a love for learning. If he never opened doors or held chairs for her or her sister, it was because he was a modern man who treated women as equals.
He’s henpecked.
The errant ugly thought startled her. Where had that come from? Sure Beth was bossy and liked to have her own way, and Patrick let her, but only because he loved her and didn’t like to cause friction. His easygoing personality had been one of the things that had attracted Nicole to him in college. He’d been her raft in a stormy sea. Ryan was more like the storm itself, blowing in and wreaking havoc in her life. Patrick calmed her. Ryan confused and agitated her.
Ryan bent over the bow to cast off a rope. Her gaze roamed over his tight backside and down the firm flex of his hamstrings. His thick biceps and the breadth of his shoulders caught her attention. Attitude wasn’t the only difference between her brother-in-law and the father of her baby.
Patrick was lean and wiry and couldn’t be called athletic by any stretch of the imagination. His movements were abrupt, and his clothes tended to hang on his frame rather than accentuate the shift of powerful muscles the way Ryan’s T-shirt did.
Patrick reminded her of a hummingbird, all zip, dash, skittish and adorable, whereas Ryan was more like the hawk gliding purposefully over the bend in the river. Predatory. Determined. Persistent.
Ryan turned unexpectedly. Nicole yanked her eyes up to his a second too late. Her cheeks burned with guilt at being caught ogling his body.
He slowly straightened, his pupils dilating as he held her gaze. His nostrils flared. The memory of that taboo kiss made her mouth water and her pulse flutter wildly. She caught herself studying the chiseled shape of his upper lip and struggled to pull air into her tight lungs.
With tremendous effort, she pried her eyes away from temptation and focused on the big T on the side of Neyland Stadium, home of the Tennessee Volunteers. But the change in scenery did nothing to alleviate the awareness unfurling inside her like a morning glory seeking the sun. She silently screamed denial, but couldn’t refute the truth.
She was sexually attracted to Ryan Patrick.
This can’t happen. Not with him.
She felt each step he took on the boat deck through the soles of her feet, and she saw him approach in her peripheral vision. Her spine stiffened as he stopped beside her and brushed the hair from her eyes with a feather-light touch, tucking the strands behind her ear. He removed her hair clip and tucked it into his pocket.
“Hey!”
“I hope our child has your silky hair. We’re going to make a beautiful baby, Nicole.”
She gulped at his rusty tone. Alarms screeched in her brain. She needed to get away from him. But her muscles ignored her frantic orders. A shiver worked down her spine and her n**ples tightened. Her pulse and breathing quickened and her stomach fisted with desire. She wanted to order him to back off, but she couldn’t find her voice.
His fingertips dragged down the sensitive side of her neck and rested on her collarbone. She reluctantly lifted her gaze to his and found his eyes focused on her mouth.
She wanted his kiss.
The realization shocked a gasp from her. How long had it been since she’d actually wanted to kiss someone? Not since Patrick. Sure, she’d dated in the past six years and endured dozens of mediocre good-night kisses, but she’d never craved one the way she did Ryan’s. Right now. And that spelled disaster.
She tried to recall Patrick’s face, to will his image to replace Ryan’s in her mind’s eye. She failed. Miserably.
One of Ryan’s hands cupped her nape and gently massaged the knotted muscles. The other rested on her waist, pulling her forward. The simultaneous press of his lips and his body against hers sent shock waves of pleasure rippling through her. His mouth opened and closed, brushing hers, teasing and luring her into passion far out of her depths. He sucked her bottom lip between his, tugged gently with his teeth and then stroked her tender flesh inside with his tongue.
A current of desire crashed over her, washing away her resistance and the reasons why this shouldn’t happen. His hot, slick tongue caressed hers, and his palm gently covered her breast with a blanket of heat. A whirlpool of sensation twisted deep inside her.
Trying to dam her response was a waste of time. Her hands drifted to his hips, then a rising tide of hunger carried them to his shoulders. Her fingers tangled in his short, crisp, sun-warmed hair.
His hand scorched a trail from her nape to her bottom, kneading her, cupping her and pulling her closer. The ridge of his hardening flesh against her belly exhilarated her. She leaned into him, reveling in the novel sensations swamping her.
She couldn’t take enough breath through her nose to keep the dizziness at bay. Her breast tingled beneath his thumb’s caress, and she hungered for more. More of his kisses. More of his touch. More of his taste. As if he’d read her thoughts, he widened his stance, pulled her between his legs and plunged deeper into her mouth. He found her tight nipple and rolled it between his fingertips. A riptide of need tugged at her core, making her ache with an unfamiliar emptiness that yearned to be filled.
Why had she never wanted like this before? Why now? Why Ryan? Besides the life they’d inadvertently created, what power did he have over her?
Her fingers flexed involuntarily in a last-ditch effort to stop the insanity, and her nails scraped across the warm skin on his neck.
He shuddered and groaned into her mouth, rocking her like a rogue wave knocking a buoy off balance, and making her crave more of whatever it was he was doing to her body, her mind, her soul. But at the same time, her response startled her enough to make her realize this was the siren’s song that lured her mother into so many meaningless affairs. Passion for a man you knew and cared little about.
Panic hit like a sobering plunge into Arctic waters. Nicole shoved against Ryan’s chest, jerked free and, gulping in one desperate breath after another, backed as far away as the confines of the boat would allow.
She would not become her mother. No matter what Beth said.
Nicole had spent her adulthood proving she wasn’t impetuous and that she always considered the consequences before taking action.
“Nicole.” Ryan reached for her again, his eyes burning with hunger, but she evaded him. She had to evade him. The way he made her feel was too dangerous, too out of control.
“Ryan, we can’t do this. This desire, this connection between us…it isn’t real. We’re both caught up in the magical moment of what we shared at the doctor’s office today.”
His eyes narrowed. “If you believe that, then you’re fooling yourself.”
Maybe so. “I can’t become involved with a man who is trying to take my baby and destroy my relationship with my family.”
“Our baby,” he corrected again and this time a yawning emptiness opened deep inside her.
Their baby. The words resurrected a dream she’d abandoned long ago. A dream of having her own home and family with a man who adored her. A dream that had died when the man she loved married her sister.
“Stop saying that.”
“Not saying it won’t change the facts.”
“I want to go ashore.”
He caught her elbow. “I’d like to show you something first.”
“I don’t think—”
“My favorite spot in the river is about a mile from here. Our son or daughter will be seeing a lot of it.”
He’d said the one thing guaranteed to keep her on board. “Boating isn’t safe for a baby.”
“I’ve told you before I don’t take unnecessary risks. They make infant life jackets. I love the water, and I intend to share that interest with my child the way my grandfather shared his with me.”
Instantly, an image of a gangly dark-haired, blue-eyed boy filled her mind. She did not need that cute picture in her head.