Bound by Honor by Donna Clayton Page B

sleepless nights wore on, she just didn't have the energy to feel too concerned about Gage.
    Jenna looked at the whimpering baby and regretted her silent complaints. The good far outweighed the bad. Lily filled her days with many moments of sheer delight, but a body simply couldn't go for days without rest.
    Gage nodded at her in greeting when he entered the living room, his mouth a firm, straight line.
    "I made dinner," she told him over Lily's cries. "It's not much. I opened a tin of soup and made sandwiches. The soup just needs reheating, and your sandwich is in the fridge. I'd offer to —"
    "Don't give it another thought," he said.
    He'd told her early on she didn't have to cook for him, but it was just as easy to prepare a meal for two as it was for one.
    "I'm going to get a quick shower," he told her.
    As Jenna paced back toward the bedroom with the baby, she heard the water running in Gage's master bath. She sat down in the chair and rocked Lily, hoping she could get the baby to sleep before he finished.
    Although he wasn't outright hostile, he was quite cool. Her time in his home — in their short-lived marriage — didn't have to be like this. His unwillingness to make the best of the few months she'd asked for had proved without too much doubt that he had a wintry personality.
    Maybe he had perfectly good reasons for his behavior, but right now Jenna was simply too drained to ponder them.
    Nearly twenty minutes later, the baby's sobs persisted in tearing at her heart and jarring her nerves. The dull ache in her head had transformed into a pounding pain.
    She'd gone back to pacing and returned to the living room.
    "Lily," she murmured as calmly as she could, "please stop crying. Relax. Please, sweet stuff."
    "Jenna."
    She whirled at the sound of Gage's voice, unaware that he'd come into the living room.
    His long hair was damp. He sometimes secured it with an elastic band at the back of his neck, but now it hung loose about his shoulders. The fabric of the fresh gray cotton T-shirt he wore pulled taut across his broad chest, and a pair of black jeans hugged his thighs. His feet were bare and nicely shaped. She realized her gaze had lingered on them several seconds too long.
    She dragged her gaze back to his face. And although she was tired to the marrow of her bones, she couldn't stop the wayward thought running through her mind . . . the man's physique was impressive.
    Blinking several times, she inhaled deeply.
    "I'm sorry if she's disturbing you," she said. "I'm sure she'll be asleep soon. She s imply can't hold out much longer."
    She fully expected him to march off to the kitchen, hut he took her completely by surprise when he came closer. The heated soapy scent of him swirled around her. "May I?"
    Jenna wasn't sure what he was asking, but then he reached out his hands. Stunned, she searched his gaze.
    "Let me have a go at this," he said softly.
    Jenna handed over the baby to Gage. It was amazing that someone so big and formidable could be so gentle.
    "Hey, Lily," he greeted. He didn't smile, but his tone was affable.
    Jenna couldn't say the exact moment the baby stopped crying. She didn't know if it had been upon Gage's approach, or at the sound of his voice, or when he'd actually scooped her in his arms. Jenna had been too focused on Gage to be conscious of it. All she did know was that the silence was truly blissful.
    Lily stared into Gage's face as if she were entranced.
    "Can I have that?" he asked, pointing to the receiving blanket that was draped over her shoulder.
    "Sure."
    Their fingers brushed when she handed it over, his work-roughened skin warm against her own. He moved to the couch, spread the blanket on the cushion as best he could with one hand and then placed Lily on it.
    "Little ones like to be bundled up," he said. He wrapped the baby in a neat little package, tucking the blanket around her. "It reminds them of the security they felt in their mother's womb."
    Jenna hadn't read that tidbit of