Wanting What She Can't Have. Yvonne Lindsay
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since Alexis’s accusation of his behavior being abnormal. Her words had stung. She had no idea what he went through every time he looked at Ruby. Every time he saw a miniature Bree seated before him. He’d almost managed to bring the shock of pain under control, but the echoing empty loss that came hard on its heels unraveled him in ways he didn’t even want to begin to acknowledge.
And then there was the fear—an awful irrational beast that built up in his chest and threatened to consume him. What if Ruby got sick, or was hurt? What if he didn’t know what to do, or didn’t react fast enough? It was an almost unbearable sense of responsibility lessened only slightly by knowing Alexis was here shouldering the bulk of it. Raoul shoved aside his bedcovers and got out of bed, yanking his pajama bottoms up higher on his hips. Everything slid off him these days. It hadn’t mattered when he was here alone but now, with his privacy totally invaded, he had to be a little more circumspect. Even locked in his antisocial bubble he could see that.
Suddenly his senses went on full alert, his skin awash with a chill of terror as he heard a muted thump come from the nursery followed by a sharp cry from the baby. For a second he was frozen, but another cry followed hard on the heels of the first, sending him flying down the hallway toward God only knew what disaster. His heart felt too big in his chest, its beat too rapid, and he fought to drag in a shuddering breath as he reached the doorway, almost too afraid to open the door and look inside.
Ruby’s howls had increased several decibels. Where the hell was Alexis? The child’s care was her job. Reluctantly, he turned the handle and pushed open the door. He winced as Ruby let out another earsplitting yell. Something had to be horribly wrong, he was sure. Fine tremors racked his body as he visually examined the red-faced infant standing up in her crib, howling her throat out.
His eyes flew over her, searching for some visible cause for her distress. She was so small—miniature everything from the tiny feet tipped with even tinier toes to the top of her auburn fuzzed head—all except for the sound bellowing from her lungs.
Clearly nothing wrong with those.
There was absolutely nothing he could see that could be responsible for her upset. Nothing external, anyway. Fear twisted in his stomach as he took a step into the room. It was always what you couldn’t see that was the most dangerous.
One pudgy little hand gripped the top rail of the side of her crib, the other reached out helplessly...toward what? Looking around, he spotted a toy on the floor. From its position, he’d guess that it had been in the crib with her and she’d flung it across the room. And still she screamed.
Was that all this was about? A stupid toy?
He gingerly picked up the mangled black-and-white zebra and handed it to her, avoiding actual physical contact. The sobs ceased for a moment—but only a moment before she hurled it back to the floor, plonked herself down on her bottom on her mattress and began once more to howl.
“Oh, dear, so it’s going to be one of those days, is it?”
Alexis bustled past him and toward the crib.
“Where the hell have you been? She’s been crying for ages,” Raoul demanded, pushing one hand through his hair.
“About a minute, actually, but yes, I agree, it feels like forever when she’s upset.”
She competently lifted Ruby from the crib and hugged her to her body. Raoul became instantly aware of how the child snuggled against Alexis’s scantily clad form—in particular Alexis’s full, unbound breasts that were barely covered by a faded singlet. She wore it over pajama shorts that, heaven help him, rode low on her softly curved hips and high on her tanned legs.
A surge of heat slowly rolled through his body, making his skin feel tight—uncomfortable with recognition of her lush femininity. But then he became aware of something else.
“What is that god-awful smell?”
“Probably the reason why she’s awake earlier than normal. She needs a clean diaper and she’s very fussy about that. It’s good really, it’ll make potty training so much easier later on. Some kids are absolutely oblivious.”
Raoul backed out of the room. “Are you sure that’s all? Maybe she ought to see the doctor and get checked out.”
Alexis just laughed. The sound washed over him like a gentle caress—its touch too much, too intimate.
“I see nothing to laugh about. She might be sick,” he said, his body rigid with anxiety.
“Oh, no. Nothing like that,” Alexis replied, her back to him as she laid Ruby down on her change table.
With one hand gently on the baby’s tummy, she reached for a packet of wipes, the movement making the already short hemline of her pajama shorts ride even higher and exposing the curve of one buttock. The warmth that had previously invaded his body now ignited to an instant inferno. He turned away from the scene before him, as much to hide his stirring erection as to avoid watching the diaper change.
He turned back a minute later, almost under complete control once more, as Alexis dropped the soiled packet into the diaper bin, one Raoul distinctly remembered Bree ordering in a flurry of nursery accessory buying the day they discovered she was pregnant. He didn’t even remember when it had arrived or who had put it in here. He should probably have given it to Catherine but here it was, being used in a nursery he’d never imagined being used at all after Bree’s death.
“Raoul? Are you okay?”
Alexis’s voice interrupted his thoughts, dragging him back into the here and now as she always did.
“I’m fine,” he asserted firmly, as if saying the words could actually make them true.
“Good, then please hold Ruby while I go and wash my hands.”
Before he could protest, she’d thrust the baby against his chest. Instinctively he put out his arms, regretting the movement the instant his hands closed around the little girl’s tiny form. His stomach lurched and he felt physically ill with fear. He’d never held her before. Ever. What if he did something wrong, or hurt her? What if she started crying again? He looked down into the blue eyes of his daughter, eyes that were so like her mother’s. Her dark brown lashes were spiked together with tears and to his horror he saw her eyes begin to fill again, saw her lip begin to wobble. He couldn’t do this, he really couldn’t do this.
“Thanks, Raoul, I can take her back now if you like?”
Relief swamped him at Alexis’s return and he passed the baby back to her with lightning speed. But the moment his arms were empty something weird happened. It was as if he actually missed the slight weight in his arms, the feel of that little body up against his own, the sensation of the rapidly drawn breaths in her tiny chest, the warmth of her skin.
He took one step back, then another. No, he couldn’t feel this way. He couldn’t afford to love and lose another person the way he’d lost Bree. Ruby was still small, so much could go wrong. He forced himself to ignore the tug in his chest and the emptiness in his arms and dragged his gaze from the little girl now staring back at him, wide-eyed as she bent her head into Alexis’s chest, the fingers of one hand twirling in Alexis’s shoulder-length honey-blond hair.
“Are you absolutely certain she’s all right?” he asked gruffly.
Alexis smiled. “Of course, she’s fine, although she might be a bit cranky later this morning and need a longer nap than normal thanks to this early start today.”
“Don’t hesitate to take her to the doctor if you’re worried.”
“I won’t, I promise.”
Her voice softened and his eyes caught with hers. Was it pity he saw there reflected in their dark brown depths? He felt his defenses fly back up around him. He needed no one’s pity. Not for anything. He was doing just fine by himself, thank you very much. And that was just the way he preferred it.
Except he wasn’t by himself anymore, was he? He had Ruby and Alexis to contend with,