Maureen Child

His Little Secret


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your special time with the twins?”

      The voice from the doorway behind him didn’t surprise him. In spite of the turmoil in his mind, Colt had felt Penny there watching him long before she spoke.

      Glancing over his shoulder at her he said, “I don’t know how you take care of them so well on your own.”

      She looked surprised by the compliment and a quick stab of guilt hit him. Colt realized that in the last few days he had never acknowledged just what she’d accomplished in this tiny house. She’d been on her own from the jump, yet she’d managed to care for the twins and this house and try to build a business.

      Exhausted him just thinking about what her life must have been like for the last eight months.

      “Well, thanks.” She stiffened a little as if she’d been unprepared for flattery—and didn’t quite know how to take it. She fidgeted with the short, pale blue robe she was wearing, tugging the terry cloth lapels tighter across her chest. “It isn’t always easy, but—”

      “Oh, I get that.” He stared down at his daughter, lying in her crib. In her favorite position, with her behind pointed at the sky, the tiny girl smiled as she drifted off to sleep. Shaking his head in amazement, Colt looked over at Reid, who was already sleeping, sprawled across the mattress as if trying to claim every inch of the space as his own.

      Twins, but so different. Yet both of them had carved their essences into his heart in a matter of days. It was damn humbling for a man who was used to running the world around him to admit, even to himself, that two tiny babies could bring him to his knees.

      Walking to the doorway, Colt turned out the light and watched as the night-light tossed softly glowing stars onto the ceiling. Then he and Penny stepped into the hallway and he pulled the door closed behind them.

      In the sudden silence, he stared down at her and lost himself for a second in the deep green of her eyes. The whole world was quiet and the tension between them flashed hot as she gathered the neck of her robe in one fist. His body went to stone when he realized she was naked under that robe.

      And in a heartbeat, his memory provided him with a very clear image of her naked body. The curves he’d spent hours exploring. The smooth slide of his hand across her skin. The fullness of her breasts, the slick heat of her body surrounding his.

      His eyes narrowed on the top of her robe, as if just by concentrating, he could make her release that death grip and give him a peek at what lay beneath. Damn, the woman was going to kill him.

      “I’m, uh, going to take a shower,” she said and took a step back from him.

      Colt’s eyes narrowed on her. “Are you steady enough to do it on your own?”

      Her eyes went wide at the implication that if she wasn’t, he was going to help.

      “I’m fine,” she insisted, taking another step backward. He could have told her that a few feet of distance wouldn’t be enough to put out the flames snapping between them.

      Then she was talking again, her words coming quickly, almost breathlessly, as she tried to make her escape. “I’m tired of washing up. And they said I could take a shower sooner than this, I was just nervous about it. So now I’m not and I really want a shower.”

      Hot water, sluicing across her body, cascading over smooth skin, soap bubbles sliding down the length of her amazing legs. Colt cursed silently. If he kept up this train of thought, he wouldn’t be able to walk. He wanted her badly, but he was also worried. What if she got into the shower and needed help?

      His inner cynic snorted at that one. He wanted to be in that shower with her, but it wasn’t help he wanted to give her.

      “It’s not safe for you to be in there on your own,” he said, a part of him actually believing the statement. “I’ll help you.”

      “Oh, no.” She shook her head hard enough for her long, dark red hair to swing out from her shoulders. “Not gonna happen.”

      “Don’t argue.” He took her arm and steered her down the short hall to the bathroom. “We’re adults, Penny.”

      “Yeah,” she murmured, “that’s the problem.”

      He gave her a wicked wink. “Are you saying you can’t trust yourself around me? Can’t control your raging desire to rip off my clothes and take me? Take me hard?”

      Her lips twitched and he grinned back at her.

      “That’s exactly right, Colt,” she said, sarcasm dripping from every word. “I don’t want to take advantage of you in your weakened state.”

      “Very thoughtful,” he assured her and walked into the bathroom, also designed for people a foot shorter than Colt, keeping a firm grip on her elbow. “Look, seriously, you need a shower and I’m not going to let you risk falling or something.”

      “What am I, ninety? I’m not going to fall. I’m not an invalid,” she told him as he turned on the water and waited impatiently for it to heat up.

      He let go of her, but blocked the only exit so she couldn’t sidle out of the room. “All kidding aside,” he said, “you can argue and we can be here for hours, or we can just get this taken care of.”

      She thought about that for a long minute or two, the pitiful sound of the low-water-pressure shower in the background. “Fine. You can stay in the room, but no looking.”

      He snorted. “I’ll try to control myself.”

      And it would be an effort, he thought but didn’t say. The room was so small, they were practically standing in the same space. The short, narrow sink dug into his thigh as he moved aside to let her get to the shower.

      “Turn around,” she ordered.

      He did and found himself staring into the mirror—something she clearly hadn’t considered. Behind him, she was reflected in the glass as she slipped out of her robe. He gritted his teeth as his gaze followed the line of her spine right down to the curve of her truly amazing behind. Her hair danced across the top of her back as she moved and he wanted to tangle his hands in that thick, soft mass as he had before.

      His body throbbing, aching, Colt held his ground, though it cost him every last ounce of his self-control. Never before had he been forced to not take what he wanted. To stand back and let the woman driving him insane slip through his fingers. His teeth ground together and his breath came short and fast. Still, he couldn’t look away and was rewarded—or tortured—with a glimpse of her breasts, high and full, as she pulled the striped curtain back and stepped into the tub.

      The water ran and he heard her blissful sigh and that was nearly enough to push him over the edge. Colt looked at the curtain and imagined her behind it, naked and wet, tipping her face up to the stingy flow of water. He couldn’t help wondering what she would think of the shower at his place, with its six massaging heads and the heated seats carved into the granite enclosure. In his mind, he laid her down on that wide seat, parted her thighs and—

      “Ow.”

      “What?” he snapped, dream dissolving instantly. “What is it?”

      “Nothing,” she said. “I just moved too fast and I’m still a little sore, that’s all. I’m fine.”

      He didn’t believe her. If she pulled her stitches out, they’d be back to square one.

      Pulling the curtain aside, he looked at her and instantly knew it had been a mistake. His imagination had nothing on the reality of a slick, wet, naked Penny. Her long, dark red hair hung in thick ropes over her shoulders. Drops of water clung to the tips of her hardened nipples and her face was flush with warmth and surprise. She looked like a damn water nymph and his body’s reaction was instantaneous.

      The tiny window over the shower was open, allowing a cold breeze to whisper through. The sea-green paint was peeling on the ceiling and the porcelain on the ancient tub was scratched and pitted.