didn’t resist. He could feel her pulse quicken and heard her breath catch.
She was feeling it, too, that same fucking reckless desire that simmered right beneath the surface, and desperately needed to be sated…
“Bella,” he whispered as he embraced her.
Chapter 8
The bottle machine buzzed.
The sound startled them both and acted like a wake-up call. Isabella pulled quickly away, busying herself by fetching the heated formula. If not for the way she refused to meet his eyes, he would’ve thought he had imagined her response.
But he hadn’t
.
Frustration filled him as he recognized the futility of it all.
He had to have this woman.
Yet he absolutely couldn’t. She was his nanny, his employee taking care of Desiree’s baby.
His fucking lifeline.
She started to brush past him, once more all business, but he was blocking the way. One brow raised and she gave him a look that could have frozen the Sahara. “Do you mind?”
Out of frustration, he took a parting shot even as he moved a few feet away. “Works for me. This place is over two thousand square feet. I think we can avoid tripping over each other.”
“Agree. And by the way? My name is
Isabella
.”
Something about the way she spoke to him got under his skin. “Okay. But don’t go looking at me like I’m the bastard. You were the one who started this.”
“Started what?” She glared at him.
“You made me dinner,” he pointed out. “Waited up until I came home, dressed in your cute little PJs. And you’re the one who touched me.”
“I was just trying to be nice!”
The softness that had been in her eyes was gone, replaced by shards of green ice, like a broken Heineken bottle. He had to hold back a smile. Damn, but she looked cute when she was mad.
“And I’m just trying to set the record straight,” he continued with a shrug. “You want distance? No problem at all. You’ll get plenty.”
“Fine,” she shot back, not bothering to look over her shoulder as she left.
He distinctly thought he heard her say “
Asshole.
”
He couldn’t blame her. But better that she be pissed than nice.
Pissed he could deal with.
It was the nice that threatened to do him in.
—
Isabella was furious. For Logan to assume that she was trying to put a move on him just because she’d made dinner was beyond conceit. She had to stop herself from slamming the door and letting him know just how angry she was.
Asshole,
indeed.
Yet the sight of Cinnamon calmed her immediately. The little copper-haired infant smiled when she spotted her, her hands and feet wiggling in the air. Scooping the baby into her arms, she cooed to her as she offered up the bottle. Cinnamon sucked the nipple hungrily as Isabella settled into the rocking chair, and her thoughts returned to the soccer player in the next room.
Well, okay,
she thought as her anger cooled. She could see how he might have misread her intentions. If she had to admit the truth to herself, he was smoking hot
.
She’d have to be blind not to notice his obvious masculinity, that fit body, and those dazzling blue eyes
.
There was nothing wrong with her vision close up.
In addition to his obvious physical attributes, there was something about his pain and confusion that touched her, especially coupled with his desire to do the right thing. There was a heart beneath that gorgeous exterior, something she didn’t need to know.
And for a toe-curling minute, she thought that he was going to kiss her…
If he had, God help her, she wasn’t at all sure she would have stopped him.
Damn. What was going on here? Was he right? Did she have an ulterior motive behind the dinner?
No, she hadn’t consciously planned it that way. When she’d made the dish earlier in the day, there was enough left to share. Normally she would be working for a family who made their own meals, but since Logan lived alone, she thought he might appreciate a home-cooked dinner.
She wouldn’t make that mistake again
.
She was a
She was feeling it, too, that same fucking reckless desire that simmered right beneath the surface, and desperately needed to be sated…
“Bella,” he whispered as he embraced her.
Chapter 8
The bottle machine buzzed.
The sound startled them both and acted like a wake-up call. Isabella pulled quickly away, busying herself by fetching the heated formula. If not for the way she refused to meet his eyes, he would’ve thought he had imagined her response.
But he hadn’t
.
Frustration filled him as he recognized the futility of it all.
He had to have this woman.
Yet he absolutely couldn’t. She was his nanny, his employee taking care of Desiree’s baby.
His fucking lifeline.
She started to brush past him, once more all business, but he was blocking the way. One brow raised and she gave him a look that could have frozen the Sahara. “Do you mind?”
Out of frustration, he took a parting shot even as he moved a few feet away. “Works for me. This place is over two thousand square feet. I think we can avoid tripping over each other.”
“Agree. And by the way? My name is
Isabella
.”
Something about the way she spoke to him got under his skin. “Okay. But don’t go looking at me like I’m the bastard. You were the one who started this.”
“Started what?” She glared at him.
“You made me dinner,” he pointed out. “Waited up until I came home, dressed in your cute little PJs. And you’re the one who touched me.”
“I was just trying to be nice!”
The softness that had been in her eyes was gone, replaced by shards of green ice, like a broken Heineken bottle. He had to hold back a smile. Damn, but she looked cute when she was mad.
“And I’m just trying to set the record straight,” he continued with a shrug. “You want distance? No problem at all. You’ll get plenty.”
“Fine,” she shot back, not bothering to look over her shoulder as she left.
He distinctly thought he heard her say “
Asshole.
”
He couldn’t blame her. But better that she be pissed than nice.
Pissed he could deal with.
It was the nice that threatened to do him in.
—
Isabella was furious. For Logan to assume that she was trying to put a move on him just because she’d made dinner was beyond conceit. She had to stop herself from slamming the door and letting him know just how angry she was.
Asshole,
indeed.
Yet the sight of Cinnamon calmed her immediately. The little copper-haired infant smiled when she spotted her, her hands and feet wiggling in the air. Scooping the baby into her arms, she cooed to her as she offered up the bottle. Cinnamon sucked the nipple hungrily as Isabella settled into the rocking chair, and her thoughts returned to the soccer player in the next room.
Well, okay,
she thought as her anger cooled. She could see how he might have misread her intentions. If she had to admit the truth to herself, he was smoking hot
.
She’d have to be blind not to notice his obvious masculinity, that fit body, and those dazzling blue eyes
.
There was nothing wrong with her vision close up.
In addition to his obvious physical attributes, there was something about his pain and confusion that touched her, especially coupled with his desire to do the right thing. There was a heart beneath that gorgeous exterior, something she didn’t need to know.
And for a toe-curling minute, she thought that he was going to kiss her…
If he had, God help her, she wasn’t at all sure she would have stopped him.
Damn. What was going on here? Was he right? Did she have an ulterior motive behind the dinner?
No, she hadn’t consciously planned it that way. When she’d made the dish earlier in the day, there was enough left to share. Normally she would be working for a family who made their own meals, but since Logan lived alone, she thought he might appreciate a home-cooked dinner.
She wouldn’t make that mistake again
.
She was a
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