voice held the same take-charge tone Kate had perfected out of necessity when caring for her brothers. “Get her things together and bring her back to Hawthorne House. She needs to stay off her feet. You can have the driver stop for something to eat on the way home.”
“That’s not necessary,” Kate protested. “I just need to rest for awhile, and then I’ll be fine. Honest.”
“I’m afraid I must insist, dear. You’ll relax more if you don’t have to worry about preparing meals and the like.”
“You know she’s right.” Rio said, keeping his voice low so only Kate could hear him. “It’s best for the baby.”
Kate shot him a stricken look, not finding the sympathy in his gray eyes the least bit comforting. Best for the baby, perhaps, but definitely not best for her.
* * * * *
R io couldn’t figure Kate out. At first he’d thought her greedy, but she lived modestly and he saw no evidence of extravagance in her life. He would’ve thought she’d be happy to be pampered for awhile. Instead, she was fiercely independent and acted like they were punishing her.
He’d carried her into the house, glad the reporters were absent for once and not here as witnesses, and deposited her on her bed with the extra pillow elevating her feet. Following her instructions, he’d found her suitcase and opened it beside her, then proceeded to fetch the various items she called for. Surely she had enough stuff in that bag to last her a month of Sundays by now. “Is that everything?”
“Ah, no.” Kate’s gaze darted around the room, and he could swear her skin was pinker.
“Just point me in the right direction. What do you need?”
Her gaze bounced off him and wandered again. “Um ... underwear.”
“Oh.” He stared at his feet, his mind racing for alternatives to her moving from the bed.
“I can get them. It won’t take but a second.”
“No way. Just watching you hobbling to the bathroom hurt me.” Hell. It was bad enough having to carrying her, feeling her soft breasts pressed against his chest, inhaling the feminine scent that was part soap, part shampoo, part essence of Kate. It had done strange things to his insides that he still hadn’t fully recovered from. He didn’t need to know what kind of things she wore closest to her soft, fragrant skin. “Tell me which drawer. I’ll bring it to you.”
“Good idea.” She beamed at him. “The top middle one in the dresser.”
Rio slid it out and off the track before his gaze dropped to its contents. Oh, man. He’d been in Africa too long, been without a woman way too long when the mere sight of bras and panties in a drawer made him imagine what they’d look like on a woman eight months pregnant. Never thought he’d see the day, but had to admit the mental picture wasn’t an unattractive one when the woman was Kate.
She cleared her throat, jolting Rio into realizing he’d been staring at the bits of silky scraps and lace. He shrugged, refusing to apologize for being male, and broke the silence with the first thing that came to mind. “You’re ankles are looking less painful.”
“See? I told you I just needed to put them up for a few minutes and they’d be fine. There’s no need for me to leave here.”
He sat the drawer beside her. “Whoa, now. I didn’t say they were fine, just better than before. Mom will have a fit if I don’t bring you back home with me.”
“But you don’t want me there any more than I want to go. Surely you can convince her this isn’t necessary.”
“I never said you weren’t welcome at Hawthorne House, and it is necessary. You can’t stay off your feet if you’re constantly having to get up for drinks and food and ...” He forgot the last of his sentence when Kate’s chin wobbled and her eyes grew damp.
Damn. Her eyes had filled in the limo, and he’d had to fight back the same urge to fold his arms around her.
Before he could figure out the proper course of action, she bounced her fists off
“That’s not necessary,” Kate protested. “I just need to rest for awhile, and then I’ll be fine. Honest.”
“I’m afraid I must insist, dear. You’ll relax more if you don’t have to worry about preparing meals and the like.”
“You know she’s right.” Rio said, keeping his voice low so only Kate could hear him. “It’s best for the baby.”
Kate shot him a stricken look, not finding the sympathy in his gray eyes the least bit comforting. Best for the baby, perhaps, but definitely not best for her.
* * * * *
R io couldn’t figure Kate out. At first he’d thought her greedy, but she lived modestly and he saw no evidence of extravagance in her life. He would’ve thought she’d be happy to be pampered for awhile. Instead, she was fiercely independent and acted like they were punishing her.
He’d carried her into the house, glad the reporters were absent for once and not here as witnesses, and deposited her on her bed with the extra pillow elevating her feet. Following her instructions, he’d found her suitcase and opened it beside her, then proceeded to fetch the various items she called for. Surely she had enough stuff in that bag to last her a month of Sundays by now. “Is that everything?”
“Ah, no.” Kate’s gaze darted around the room, and he could swear her skin was pinker.
“Just point me in the right direction. What do you need?”
Her gaze bounced off him and wandered again. “Um ... underwear.”
“Oh.” He stared at his feet, his mind racing for alternatives to her moving from the bed.
“I can get them. It won’t take but a second.”
“No way. Just watching you hobbling to the bathroom hurt me.” Hell. It was bad enough having to carrying her, feeling her soft breasts pressed against his chest, inhaling the feminine scent that was part soap, part shampoo, part essence of Kate. It had done strange things to his insides that he still hadn’t fully recovered from. He didn’t need to know what kind of things she wore closest to her soft, fragrant skin. “Tell me which drawer. I’ll bring it to you.”
“Good idea.” She beamed at him. “The top middle one in the dresser.”
Rio slid it out and off the track before his gaze dropped to its contents. Oh, man. He’d been in Africa too long, been without a woman way too long when the mere sight of bras and panties in a drawer made him imagine what they’d look like on a woman eight months pregnant. Never thought he’d see the day, but had to admit the mental picture wasn’t an unattractive one when the woman was Kate.
She cleared her throat, jolting Rio into realizing he’d been staring at the bits of silky scraps and lace. He shrugged, refusing to apologize for being male, and broke the silence with the first thing that came to mind. “You’re ankles are looking less painful.”
“See? I told you I just needed to put them up for a few minutes and they’d be fine. There’s no need for me to leave here.”
He sat the drawer beside her. “Whoa, now. I didn’t say they were fine, just better than before. Mom will have a fit if I don’t bring you back home with me.”
“But you don’t want me there any more than I want to go. Surely you can convince her this isn’t necessary.”
“I never said you weren’t welcome at Hawthorne House, and it is necessary. You can’t stay off your feet if you’re constantly having to get up for drinks and food and ...” He forgot the last of his sentence when Kate’s chin wobbled and her eyes grew damp.
Damn. Her eyes had filled in the limo, and he’d had to fight back the same urge to fold his arms around her.
Before he could figure out the proper course of action, she bounced her fists off
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