again, but Ethan understood the warning and wrapped his arms around his dad’s shoulders.
“It’s okay, Dad,” he said soothingly as he steadied Nate and walked him around to the front of the couch.
Brittany stood up with the crying baby in her arms, and Ethan stretched his father out in a reclining position on the sofa. “You all right now, Dad?” he asked anxiously.
“I’ll get his candy,” Brittany said, and hurried to the kitchen, still carrying the squalling child, to get a roll of fruit-flavored Life Savers. It was a quick way to bring her patient’s blood-sugar level back up to normal and avoid diabetic shock.
When she got back to the family room Ethan stood up and took Danny from her while she sat on the edge of the couch and handed Nate the proper number of candies. While he chewed she kept her hand on the pulse in his wrist and her eyes on the slightly uneven rise and fall of his chest.
“Is he going to be okay?” Ethan asked above the clamor of Danny’s sobs.
“Oh, yeah,” she assured him. “His blood sugar apparently took a dramatic fall due to the stress of all the upsetting things going on around here, plus he missed his afternoon snack. I was fixing him something to eat when your wife arrived and got everything in an uproar.”
“Ex-wife,” Ethan corrected her.
Brittany got a perverse pleasure out of Ethan’s hurry to deny any close relationship with Hannah. How could that woman just abandon their baby like this? It’s true her company hadn’t given her much time to make a choice between her career and her child, but she could have at least shown a little remorse. Instead she didn’t seem to be able to get away fast enough.
“Yes, well whatever,” she said, “Nate needs to eat. I noticed you have an assortment of TV dinners in the freezer. Is it okay if I heat some of those in the microwave?”
“I’d appreciate it very much,” Ethan answered. “I like roast beef. What will you have, Nate?”
“Fried chicken,” Nate said, but before Brittany could protest that deep-fried chicken was filled with fat, Nate continued. “It’s a brand especially made for people with dietary restrictions. My doctor has approved it.”
She was happy to hear that. “Okay, then, and what does Danny eat?”
“I’ll feed him,” Ethan said, “while you fix dinner and take care of Dad. There’s plenty in the freezer. Take whatever you want for yourself.”
“Fine,” she said, and looked at Nate. “You stay right there and don’t try to get up. It won’t take but a few minutes to microwave your frozen chicken. Do you still have black spots in front of your eyes?
He shook his head. “No, that candy did the trick. My hands aren’t shaking, either.”
For the next few hours Ethan and Brittany worked unceasingly. Ethan fed Danny, then put away the baby furnishings he needed and carried all the things he had duplicates of, such as high chairs and cribs, down to the basement. Brittany fixed the TV dinners for the three adults and kept an eye on both Nate and his little grandson.
At seven-thirty she caught up with Danny and gave him a bath. He splashed happily in the tub, getting her almost as wet as he was. She rummaged through the chest of drawers in the nursery upstairs and found a pair of pajamas with cartoon characters printed on them. She put them on him and sat down with him in the handmade chair that Ethan told her had rocked several generations of Thorpe babies to sleep.
For a few moments Danny tried to get away from her and play on the floor, but she held on to him firmly and started to sing lullabies as she rocked. In no time he relaxed, put his thumb in his mouth and nestled against her.
Brittany hadn’t had much experience with infants and toddlers. She’d done a fair amount of baby-sitting in high school, but her charges had been mostly older children. This little one was pure joy. His skin was so soft, his hair still tousled, and he smelled of soap and baby powder.
She was still humming when she heard a soft sound somewhere between a gasp and a sigh and looked up. There, leaning against the doorjamb, stood Ethan. There were lines of fatigue at the corners of his eyes and mouth and he looked exhausted.
Their gazes locked and clung and wouldn’t be torn apart, but it wasn’t the magnetism that held her entranced. It was the raw hunger that seemed to look out of his very soul as he watched her cuddle his child.
Chapter Three
Ethan had been in the basement stashing away Danny’s surplus things when it occurred to him that he hadn’t seen or heard the boy for an uncomfortably long length of time. He’d assumed that Brittany and Nate were taking care of him, but what if they’d thought the same thing about him? They’d all drifted off to various duties without any of them taking specific responsibility for the little guy.
A stab of fear sent Ethan hurrying up to the first floor. There didn’t seem to be anybody there, although the television in the family room was going full blast. He turned it off and called Brittany and Nate but there was no answer.
Ordinarily that wouldn’t be too alarming since the house was big and tightly built. Also, all the floors except the tiled one in the foyer were heavily carpeted, which pretty much soundproofed the structure. But this was no ordinary situation! He was answerable for his little son now, and he should have been watching him more closely.
Quickly he bounded up the stairs to the second story and took a left turn to check the master bedroom-and-bath suite. It was empty, but as he neared the nursery next door he heard the soft strains of a lullaby being sung.
He stopped and listened. The melody wasn’t familiar, but he knew it wasn’t Nate who was singing. This was a woman’s voice, sweet and clear.
Ethan crept slowly to the door and looked in. Brittany was sitting in Nate’s antique rocking chair cradling Danny in the crook of her arm, his little head pillowed against the curvaceous rise of her breast.
His knees turned rubbery and he leaned against the doorjamb to steady himself. She was the perfect model for a modern-day Madonna, dressed casually in blue jeans and a T-shirt after a long day of work, her lovely young face devoid of makeup and her dark hair falling across her creamy, unblemished cheeks as she bowed her head and lovingly stroked Ethan’s sleeping son.
Ethan couldn’t help it. He’d fought so valiantly against his desire for her every time he’d seen her these past two weeks, and now she was holding his little boy the way he longed for her to hold him. A moan escaped from deep in his throat and Brittany raised her head.
The singing stopped abruptly, and for a moment she looked startled. Then their gazes locked and hers softened. Ethan knew he should break that hold. He didn’t want her to see the depth of emotion she stirred in him, but he couldn’t look away. Those big, deep-set green eyes of hers wouldn’t let him.
Slowly he started walking across the room, never breaking eye contact, until he stood in front of the chair. She watched him, and when he hunkered down in front of her and murmured, “Let me take him,’ she put Danny in his outstretched arms.
As he stood he didn’t know where this interlude was going, but he was sure of one thing. She’d have to help get them back on a business-only basis. He couldn’t do it alone.
Ethan laid the sleeping youngster in the crib and covered him with a light blanket, then leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Sleep peacefully, son,” he whispered.
Ethan straightened and pulled up the side of the crib, then once again turned around to face Brittany. She was still sitting in the chair. He crossed to her and put out his hands. She took them and he pulled her up and into his aching arms.
He breathed a sigh of relief. The pain of wanting her and the strain of denying it had been torture. She was warm and soft and fit against him in all the right places. His self-control shattered and he kissed her, gently at first because of her youth