Baby Wishes And Bachelor Kisses. Valerie Parv
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while. They made such a heartwarming sight that she would have felt moved to tears even without the biological need clamoring at her.
The baby wasn’t the only one playing havoc with her emotions, Bethany was forced to admit as she sipped the coffee moodily. Nicholas Frakes was also having an odd effect on her equilibrium. When she first planned to interview him, she had reckoned without the sheer animal magnetism he exuded. She had never before met a man who was so...well... male.
On the surface he was everything she disliked in a man: physically large, which made her feel uncomfortably small and vulnerable; messy and disorganized, when she preferred everything to be in its place; and so attractive that he had to be a candidate for Playboy of the Western World.
All right, she was clutching at straws with this last one. Playboys didn’t usually take in orphaned babies or run themselves ragged trying to get them to eat, she acknowledged, her innate sense of fair play springing to the fore. He did have some redeeming qualities. But he was still large and messy, and just being around him made her want to do reckless things like cook and clean and take care of his baby.
What was going on here?
She gave herself a mental shake. Finding Nicholas in charge of a baby when it was the last thing she’d expected must be distorting her perception. It was also making her forget that she was here under false pretenses. Nicholas believed The Baby House had something to do with child care. Once he knew her journal was for dollhouse enthusiasts, it would be the end of her fairy godmother image. He probably wouldn’t be able to get her out of his house fast enough.
The thought was enough to banish the mistiness from her eyes. She finished the coffee and looked around. Interviewing Nicholas was out of the question until he’d slept off his exhaustion, so she may as well make herself useful. It might even weigh in her favor when he was deciding whether or not to throw her out on her ear.
She started in the kitchen, collecting and washing the accumulated dishes and sweeping the floor. Searching around for a garbage bin, she almost fell over two baskets of clothes waiting to be washed in the laundry. She gave a sigh. In for a penny...
Luckily the laundry was well organized, so she soon had the clothes sorted and the first load humming away in the modern machine. There was enough here for three loads, she thought, stooping to sort the remaining basket. Didn’t Nicholas believe in doing laundry? Or was he waiting for his live-in lady friend to return and do it for him?
Maybe she was the driving force behind providing a home for Maree, Bethany thought with sudden insight. Bethany had given Nicholas all the credit, but maybe it belonged to the missing model she’d read about in the outdated magazine.
As if to prove her theory, Bethany came across a silk blouse at the bottom of the last basket. It definitely didn’t belong to Nicholas, and Maree was too young for such delicate apparel. That left the model who was probably away on a photographic assignment. Bethany swore under her breath at her own gullibility. If she’d used her head in the first place, she would have realized that no man slept on black satin sheets for his own amusement.
She had only herself to blame. Just as she had avoided telling Nicholas the real reason for her visit, he hadn’t actually said he lived alone with the baby, only that he was on his own today. So they were even in the lying-by-omission stakes. Somehow the thought was little comfort, and Bethany finished sorting the laundry with angry movements, slamming the washing machine lid down harder than was warranted. She wasn’t entirely sure why she was so angry, except that she was.
A wave of guilt washed over her as she heard a chorus of wails from the kitchen. By making such a racket all she’d managed to do was wake the baby. It didn’t bode well for the rest of the afternoon.
Nicholas didn’t look angry when he tracked her down in the laundry. He looked bemused at all she’d achieved while he slept. “You should have woken me. I should be doing that,” he told her, folding his arms and angling his body comfortably against the door frame.
She forced herself to ignore the impact of his presence in the small room. “Is Maree all right?”
“Rested, changed and playing with her toys in her playpen,” he informed her with a grin. “Changing her is one job I do know how to get right, maybe because I get so much practice at it.”
In spite of herself she felt a glow steal through her at the warmth of his smile, which was slightly crooked and showed the even whiteness of his teeth. The difference in their heights put her eyes close to the level of his mouth. A very kissable mouth, she found herself thinking. A mouth that could give as well as command. Another wave of heat curled through her, this time unmistakably sensual, and she ran her tongue across suddenly dry lips. This would have to stop since no good could come of it. Nicholas was already spoken for. She had the evidence right here in her hands.
She held out the filmy white blouse. “I didn’t think this should go in with the other clothes. It’s obviously delicate. When your friend comes home, she may prefer to have it dry-cleaned.”
A shadow darkened his features. “Lana’s unlikely to care either way. Country life didn’t suit her. She went home to Melbourne and she isn’t coming back.”
Bethany let the blouse fall back into the basket. “I’m sorry.” She was making a habit of apologizing to him, but this time she didn’t feel in the least sorry. She felt curiously elated to discover that the mysterious Lana had left, apparently for good. It was hardly a charitable response but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.
“These things happen,” he said dismissively, but the tension in his neck and shoulders wasn’t lost on her. He cared more than he wanted to admit. Well it was none of her business. She had already entangled herself in his domestic affairs far more than was wise. She had come here to do a job, not to get involved in his private life.
All the same it was difficult to respond with a casual nod, when she knew firsthand how painful it felt to be left nursing a wounded heart. “Shouldn’t you look in on Maree?” she made herself ask pointedly.
His piercing gaze rested on her for a long moment before he said, “Of course. You can leave the rest of the laundry for me. You’ve done more than enough already. I don’t know how I can possibly repay you.”
This was the opening she’d waited for, but she balked at taking advantage of it. “I’ll be happy with the interview I requested,” she said lightly, knowing she should use this chance to persuade him to give her the story. She couldn’t do it, she found to her dismay. If this was to work, he had to agree of his own volition. She couldn’t bring herself to blackmail him into it in exchange for the few chores she’d undertaken of her own accord.
He gave another crooked grin and held out his hand to help her step over the laundry baskets. “I could finish this,” she said with a backward look at the clothes, but his grip tightened and he towed her into the kitchen where Maree played happily in her playpen.
“Are you always this helpful to your interview subjects?” he asked, a lilt of wry humor in his tone. “If I’d known, you could have arrived earlier and worked your way through the rest of the housework.”
Thinking of the state of the bedroom she’d walked through on her way in, she shook her head. “No thanks. My life isn’t long enough.”
He pretended to be offended. “My housekeeping isn’t that bad. All right, maybe it is. But I have a consultancy to run as well as taking care of Maree. Editing a baby care magazine, you of all people should know how much time a toddler takes up.”
His hand in hers was warm, his strong fingers curling into her palm as if he had forgotten to release her now they were back in the kitchen. Slowly, aware of a feeling of reluctance, she untangled her hand. “Nicholas, we have to talk. I know my journal is called The Baby House but it isn’t what you think.”
“It isn’t about babies?”
“Not really.” She took a steadying breath. The truth had to come out sometime, and she had already postponed it far longer than was wise. “The Baby House is a specialized