One Daddy Too Many Page 11

  “Why not? Dad says you can see the future. You have the gift. He doesn’t do anything without talking to you first.”

  Her mother had frowned then. “I wish that were true,” she’d murmured in a tone that had made Kate realize there was much about her parents’ relationship that she didn’t know.

  “What I see are glimmers. Possibilities, for sure. Probabilities? Maybe. But I don’t need a crystal ball to know that you will make a wonderful life for yourself, Katherine. You’re strong, ambitious and you’ve always achieved any goal you set for yourself. This road you’ve chosen won’t be easy, but it’s the right path for you. I’m sure of that.”

  The right path.

  She paused at the intersection of sidewalks. To her right was a shortcut to her room. Rob was probably done with his mud bath by now. She could go up to their suite and start something her libido would vote for, hands down. Or she could get a massage.

  She tossed up her hands and gave a low chuckle. Maybe an hour of pure relaxation would add clarity to her jumbled emotions. She dashed the last few steps to the building that housed the spa. “I’m here for my massage,” she said, opening the door.

  ROB WALKED to his room—the room he and Kate had checked into two hours earlier. He felt slightly woozy. His senses tingled—as if he’d sloughed off a layer of body armor in the gooey heated mud. The massage that had followed was both soothing and revitalizing. He felt alive, ready to embrace life—if he could find his footing.

  And Kate.

  “Kate?” he called, opening the door.

  They’d left their quickly packed overnight bags open on the bed after hanging up the things they planned to wear to dinner. Kate’s cosmetic bag was sitting on the dresser. He could smell her presence, even though his mind said that wasn’t possible.

  He glanced at the clock and realized she was still getting her massage. Restless, he strolled to the window to see if he could spot the golf course he’d overheard the concierge talking about. The window faced southwest. The highway was visible, as were the mountains and a green swath that marked the course of some river.

  Kate had pointed out several spots of interest on their drive, including Valley of Fire State Park. Seen through her eyes, Rob was beginning to appreciate the stark, haunting beauty of the desert.

  But it’s not the ocean. It wasn’t home. And even if he bought a house—like the one he and Kate had toured—that didn’t mean he was ever going to feel settled here. Right?

  Pacing to the bed, he sat down and picked up the remote. His fingers itched. The list-making part of his brain was already starting to click and fidget. If he had a legal pad in front of him, Rob knew he’d have two columns started: Vegas and SF.

  He could picture the lopsided nature of the list. There was no comparison between the two cities. But Vegas had something San Francisco didn’t—Kate.

  Kate.

  How had she managed to insinuate herself so completely into his conscious and unconscious thought? He’d catch himself thinking about her a dozen or more times a day. He’d wonder how Maya was doing in preschool. If she’d met with her father again. If she was confused and anxious. If her mother got home safely after work. What if the car broke down again? This time on a dark street at two o’clock in the morning?

  He sprang out of bed and started to pace. “What is wrong with me?” he muttered.

  The answer was there. A shimmering, undeniable revelation that had crystallized in his mind while he was flat on his face on the massage table. He was in love with Kate. And Maya, too. But what to do about the fact wasn’t simple.

  He paused at the closet. A dress, a robe and a short-sleeve blouse hung at eye level. Two pair of shoes—slip-on deck shoes and sling-back pumps—rested neatly on the floor.

  The shoulder of the dress had slipped partway off the hanger so he straightened it. The fabric was silky. In the dark closet it looked black but he’d seen Kate take it out of her suitcase and knew it was a rich, deep plum color. He couldn’t wait to see her in it. He wanted more than anything to be able to help take it off her. To spend the night wrapped in each others’ arms making hot, passionate love.

  He’d barely managed to push the thought from his mind when he heard a sound at the outer door. The instant he saw her he recognized the bemused, slightly foggy look on her face. Pure and utter relaxation.

  He backed up to give her space. “You enjoyed your massage. I can tell.”

  She smiled and nodded. “It was heavenly. I think I had an out-of-body experience and when I came back, I was in somebody else’s body. Someone with pink toenails. Look.” She sat down on the end of the bed and lifted one leg so Rob could see her pretty, shiny toes. “Nice, huh?”

  She reminded him so much of Maya at that moment, he couldn’t help but laugh.

  She looked up. Her eyes were such a deep, dark brown he could almost taste melted chocolate. “How was the mud bath experience? Gritty?” she asked.

  “Cleansing. You sink into hot mud, which is actually rather heavy when it’s caked on your chest, and then you have a mineral bath and a sweat and a shower. It was great.”

  “You do look pretty relaxed. Maybe we should call Jo and tell her this was a brilliant idea.”

  “Maybe,” Rob said, stepping closer to where she was sitting. Kate, whose hair was twisted up off her shoulders in a way he’d never seen her wear it before, looked up. “Or we could do what our mothers probably had in mind from the moment we met.”

  Her eyes sparked with a mischievous glint. “And what would that be? Sex? I don’t think so. Maybe Jo is different, but I guarantee you Yetta has never once said, ‘Run off to Mesquite and make mad passionate love with a man you’re not married to.’”

  This kind of frankness from a woman who rarely shared her most private thoughts left him struggling to keep up. “But—”

  She looked at him expectantly. When nothing came out of his mouth, she smiled and said, “You’re usually more articulate.”

  “And you’re usually not this open.”

  “Ah…well, that’s because you’ve never been around me after a massage and pedicure. You haven’t complimented me on my toes. Aren’t they pretty?”

  She placed her foot solidly against his belly, stopping him from getting any closer. “The girl tried to talk me into a French nail. I said, ‘Nope.’ Hot pink or nothing.”

  His gaze went from her toes to her face. “They’re dazzling. You’re dazzling.”

  She flopped back, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. “No. I just wanted a change. I’m tired of being mad all the time. While I was facedown on the table, I decided the only way to be happy again is if I forgive Ian.” She paused, then went on. “We both made mistakes, and poor Maya got caught in the middle.”

  Rob pulled over the desk chair and scooted close enough to see her face. “Divorces are never pleasant. So much blame and finger-pointing. Most people don’t like admitting they shared some of the fault.”

  “During my massage, I was thinking about my dad. His first stroke came as such a shock to everyone—he was our rock—we all felt so vulnerable. My family needed me. Maya was still nursing. Grace and I were negotiating the lease on our building.” She tossed her hands up. “I think by not paying enough attention to my husband and our marriage, I gave Ian just enough rope to hang himself.”

  When Rob failed to say anything, Kate pushed up onto her elbows to look at him. The expression on his face made her add, “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying the embezzlement was my fault. Ian blew it. He gambled and lost. And it’s not like he didn’t know the risk he was taking. I made it very clear the importance I put on trust when he asked me to marry him.”

  Rob leaned over and took her bare foot in his hand. His touch was gentle but firm. He ran the tip of his finger over her newly polished toenail.

  Forgiving Ian wasn’t the only decision she’d made while on the massage table.

  “Do you believe in luck?” she asked.

  “I’m here with you.
I’d call that incredibly lucky.” His hand tightened around her ankle and he pressed the sole of her foot to the center of his chest. She swore she could feel the pounding of his heart beat in time with hers.

  She pushed aside her few remaining qualms. She deserved a life that included passion and tenderness. And Rob was the first man since Ian who made her want both. “What do you say to giving that kissing thing another try?”

  She didn’t have to ask twice.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rob had visualized his seduction of Kate much differently. For one thing, he’d imagined that she would be shy and need coaxing. He pictured her as hesitant, maybe even slightly repressed.

  He quickly discovered he was completely wrong.

  “Did I tell you you’re a great kisser?” she asked as she nibbled a trail of wet, playful bites along his jaw.

  He’d joined her on the bed and they faced each other, side by side with a small, polite gap between them. They were both still fully dressed. He even had his shoes on.

  “And I love the smell of your skin,” she said, running her fingers along the open collar of his golf shirt.

  Rob couldn’t stop himself from touching her hair, exploring the texture of the curls he’d always longed to touch. “I like the way you kiss, too,” he said, watching the way her eyes closed when he clenched his hand. “Which probably explains why I spend way too much time thinking about kissing you.”

  She looked at him through narrowed eyes. “Kissing is a nice warm-up, but do you know what I’ve missed the most since my divorce? Actually, even before Ian went to jail, because we’d been so wrapped up in our separate lives we rarely crossed paths.”

  He shook his head.

  “Skin. Hot, sweaty skin on skin. Isn’t that weird? I used to dream about being in a group orgy with anonymous people. Only I was invisible. I could see them, but I couldn’t feel. I’d wake up aroused and breathless but totally frustrated.” She frowned. “Does that make me kinky?”

  “I’m not a psychologist, but I was engaged to one. Which makes me an authority, of course.”

  She chuckled. A low sexy sound that made his resistance crumble. “Of course. So, tell me.” She reached between them and pulled his shirt free from the waistband of his Dockers.

  Her nails lightly skimmed his ribs sending a delicious shiver through him. “And in my esteemed opinion—”

  “Self-esteemed.”

  “Naturally.” He tapped her nose playfully. “I’d say you were suffering from epidermal deprivation.”

  She splayed her hand flat on his belly. He could read the laughter in her eyes but she said, “That sounds serious.”

  “Hmm…” He was slipping under her spell. Only someone with superhuman powers could resist this bewitching woman with her intoxicating smell and captivating touch. “Could prove fatal,” he said, his voice a gruff croak.

  Her fingertips dipped below his belt line.

  “Oh, no!” she cried with mock horror. “What do you prescribe?”

  His breath caught in the back of his throat. “The only cure is immediate removal of all clothing, then C.P.R.” He rolled over so he had her half-pinned beneath him. He quickly unbuttoned her pretty sleeveless blouse. Her bra was white cotton. Simple. Demure.

  “C.P.R.? The mouth-to-mouth kind?”

  “That, too. But I meant close…personal…relations.” He slipped the fabric from her shoulders. “Requires liberal touching. And feeling.”

  She looked at him a moment, then suddenly started laughing. Holding her belly, she wriggled with mirth that seemed to come from the bottom of her toes.

  Rob moved enough to kick off his shoes. He tugged his shirt over his head then looked at her. “Quiet, woman, this is a serious matter. We’re obviously very close to losing you. Here, take my hand.”

  Once she was sitting upright, he unhooked the front closure bra and pushed the material aside then pulled her into his arms. “This calls for heat and friction. A life is at stake.”

  Kate couldn’t agree more. For too long, she’d been merely existing, going through the motions, but she hadn’t really been living—except where Maya was concerned. But, important as being a mother was, she wanted more. Being with Rob, here and now, was about the woman inside her, the person with real needs that had been ignored too long.

  “So, why are we wasting time talking?”

  They took care of the necessary precautions because they’d both grown up in a time when precautions were standard. Once the condom was in place, they were free to focus on feeling. Rob seemed to divine her needs even before she could express them. His hands were strong and gentle, bold but never pushy. He asked questions. She answered honestly.

  “Do you like this?”

  “Yes, but I like this more.”

  He welcomed her touch—her lips—on every part of his body. His lean beautiful body. She’d halfway expected to compare him to Ian. How could she not? But that didn’t happen. Not even when she held his penis in her hand. Yes, the two men were different, but that was all her mind registered before the urge to put her mouth where her hand was took precedence.

  “Now, Kate?” he called out, his voice raspy with need. “Please tell me you’re ready.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”

  Their naked bodies entwined as close as sweat and skin allowed. They seemed perfectly attuned to each other’s rhythm. Her climax was better than any she could recall from dreams…or from her marriage.

  Heart racing and still panting like a sprinter, she closed her eyes and whispered, “Thank you.”

  His low chuckle reverberated though her, too, since they were still wrapped in each others arms. “If you’re thanking me for saving your life, you’re welcome, but I should confess that the thanks are mutual. You saved me, too.”

  “I did?”

  “Oh, yeah. I was painfully close to succumbing to a bad case of M.S.B.”

  Something told her she was going to regret asking, but she did anyway. “What’s that?”

  When he whispered the answer in her ear, she burst out laughing. Massive sperm build-up. Damn. A man who made her laugh and made her feel like she never felt before. The combination could only mean one thing: she’d found her perfect mate.

  FIVE HOURS LATER, Rob reached across the elegant black linen tablecloth to take her hand. After an afternoon of making love, they’d both agreed dining out was essential. A chance to act like grown-ups instead of teenagers.

  “What do you think of this place?”

  “It’s nice.”

  “But it’s not Romantique.”

  She gave his fingers a squeeze, then reached for her napkin. Kate wasn’t big on public displays of affection, he’d noticed. “That’s the best thing it has going for it. I don’t have to cook.”

  “Being a chef must make dining out a rather surreal experience. Can you eat without critiquing?”

  She opened her menu. “Absolutely,” she said. Then, peeking over the top of the four-page tome she added, “Unless it’s awful.”

  “I’m sure it won’t be as fabulous as your cooking, but I have to admit I’m starved.”

  “Well, we did have quite a workout.” Her toes touched his pant leg and skimmed downward until they reached his bare ankle. He’d forgotten to pack dress socks. She’d offered to run to the gift shop for him since all she had left to do to be ready was put on her dress, but they’d wound up making love again, instead.

  And his body was ready again just from that one simple touch. How? he wondered. His ex-girlfriend had insisted men reached their sexual peak in their teens while women Kate’s age were just starting to come into theirs.

  He reached for the wine list. “White or red?”

  They compromised and ordered champagne.

  Kate lifted her glass. “To brilliant men who know C.P.R.”

  Her wink was nearly his undoing. Damn. He was in love. Plain and simple. Only there was nothing simple about it. Kate’s life was in Las Vegas. Her daughter ha
d warmed to Rob a tiny bit during swim lessons, but he knew that Maya still hoped Ian would move in with them.

  Plus, his footing in his job was iffy at best. He thought he’d been sent here to make order out of chaos, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that his real role was executioner. If he didn’t fire one of the two lawyers earmarked for a pink slip, he’d be free to return to the Bay area. Unemployed, but free.

  The crystal chime—and gulp that followed—took the edge off his nerves, but he couldn’t help thinking the better toast would have been: damned if you do, damned if you don’t. He promised himself he’d bring up the subject of the future after dinner. Well after dinner. Like, around breakfast.

  KATE SLIPPED OUT of the room, closing the door behind her with the tiniest of clicks. Rob was sleeping soundly—as were most of the hotel guests, she figured. The clock beside their bed read three-nineteen when she’d woken up suddenly, completely.

  She’d lain still for a few minutes, listening to the man beside her. She loved the little sounds he made. She loved his warmth. Being able to slide her toe a few inches to the right and feel his presence. Such a simple act, but one she’d missed more than she realized.

  And with that realization came some big questions. Was Rob the one? Would they be able to make a relationship work? A thousand variables crashed through her mind leaving her breathless and tense. She was afraid her worries might somehow leak into his dreams, and he looked so peaceful and happy she didn’t want to ruin his much-needed sleep. After all, they’d worked off their meal in stunning fashion.

  So, as quietly as possible, she’d dressed in the bathroom, grabbed her purse and left. This was Nevada. Casinos in Nevada never closed.

  A pervasive hum from Slots Row, accompanied by the sound effects from the various games, greeted her the moment she stepped off the elevator. She skirted the table games, deciding she didn’t want to play anything that required too much brain power. She’d picked up a guest card earlier and sat down to try her luck at a machine called Lobstermania.