The Gentrys: Cal. Linda Conrad

overhead light suddenly flooded the room with a shock of glaring illumination. Bella turned to make sure the interloper was Cal.

      It was most definitely, absolutely positively, her host.

      He stood motionless, leaning on one crutch at the threshold of the kitchen, scrutinizing her. He looked like he’d just stumbled out of bed. His hair was in luxuriant disarray, the deep shadow of a late-night beard grazed across his jaw, and he was wearing only a pair of loose fitting running shorts. His naked broad chest and the smattering of dark hair there caught her immediate attention—until she glanced into his eyes.

      As his gaze raked her body, from the tip of her uncombed hair right down to her bare toes, a spark of sexual recognition hammered through every single part of her. Burning passion flamed openly in his eyes as he brought his gaze up to meet hers.

      She had to clear her throat twice to speak. “You did not need to get up. I told you I would take care of Kaydie.”

      The man was every sexual fantasy she’d ever had all wrapped into one package. She wondered if he’d be tender or rough, whether he’d try to please her or continue with his selfish ways in bed. Hmm.

      She shook off the images. It didn’t matter. She didn’t even know him. She vowed there would be no fantasies with Cal, sexual or otherwise.

      “I…” Cal was almost rendered speechless by the sight of the sleep-tousled, golden-skinned woman in bare feet. The sexy dark-haired angel, standing next to the kitchen sink, cradled his child to her breast.

      He could not for the life of him figure out why that vision seemed so erotic. Never once, while he’d been married to the baby’s mother, had he ever felt anything even resembling passion when his wife had held their child—which really hadn’t been too often, come to think of it. And he’d even read that fathers-to-be were sometimes filled with great passion toward their wives when they were expecting—but he’d had good reason not to be.

      When his eyes met Bella’s just now, he not only felt more turned on than he could remember, but he also recognized that same inexplicably tender tug deep in his gut that he’d noticed earlier. He didn’t know what that was all about, or why it had hit him so suddenly, but he certainly had no intention of exploring the feeling at the moment. He swallowed hard a couple of times, trying to dislodge the pull from his craw.

      “Sorry to startle you, babe.” He tried one of his fail-proof smiles. “I heard Kaydie’s cries and thought maybe you might need help.”

      She rolled her eyes. With a look that said, “A lot of good you’d be with your leg slowing you down,” she turned back to the baby.

      Cal couldn’t imagine why Bella didn’t react to his smiles the same way other women did. But, so help him, he intended to make it a point to charm his way into her good graces—and maybe a whole lot more. It seemed like kind of a challenge now. But he had to be careful not to rush things and scare her off.

      He moved closer while Bella fumbled with a baby bottle and the bottled water. “Here. Let me,” he offered.

      She relinquished the bottle and rearranged Kaydie in her arms. “I think the fever is back. But not so bad as before.” She laid her cheek against the baby’s forehead. “Yes, she’s cooler. But there’s something else…”