Karen Rose Smith

The Daddy Verdict


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away, and she suspected he wasn’t thinking about the wedding.

      Sierra left Ben to his thoughts for the remainder of the drive. She refused to think beyond today. She was going to enjoy her best friend’s wedding and try to find out more about Ben. But something told her finding out more about him might lead her someplace she didn’t want to go. With him beside her in the car, it was hard to escape memories of the night they’d shared. But for now, she had to put them aside. She had to think clearly. She couldn’t let the sight of his strong hands on the steering wheel remind her of how those hands had made her feel.

      She was almost relieved when they took the road to the Padilla family’s hacienda. The black, wrought-iron gates were open, welcoming them. A sprawling peach adobe house nestled against the hills while a tiered fountain in the front courtyard bubbled and streamed.

      They’d almost reached the protective arch above the door when the heavy oak portal opened and Camille came running out. She embraced Sierra and then saw Ben holding Sierra’s gown and duffel. “What’s this? Did you two come together?”

      Before Sierra could answer, Ben replied, “It seemed the practical thing to do.”

      “Why, yes, I guess it would be practical,” Camille agreed, her dark eyes sparkling with curiosity as she arched a brow at Sierra, and her black hair blew in the fall breeze.

      As they all stepped inside the foyer, Ben said, “I can just drop this all in Sierra’s room. Which one is hers?”

      “Upstairs, second door on the right.”

      After Ben headed that way, Camille looked at her friend. “What haven’t you told me?”

      Sierra felt her cheeks warm. “We’ll have to talk when you have some time.”

      “I’ll make the time,” Camille assured her.

      “Sure, you will. In between saying your vows, dancing your wedding dance and leaving for your honeymoon.”

      “Sierra, how nice to see you again!” Camille’s mother, Maria, greeted her as she joined them. “You look beautiful, as always. But I’m going to have to steal my daughter away now. It’s time for her to get dressed.”

      “Mom, I have plenty of time.”

      “Not as much as you think. Sierra, once you’re dressed, come down to the master suite. That’s where Camille will be. Mrs. Padilla and I will be helping her get ready there.”

      Camille rolled her eyes and murmured to Sierra, “This is a tradition of some kind.”

      “Traditions are good,” Sierra tossed back with a smile, knowing she was going to begin lots of traditions for the child she carried…so many her son or daughter wouldn’t be able to count them all.

      She gave Camille a hug. “Go on. Make yourself beautiful for your husband-to-be. I’ll see you in a little while.”

      As Sierra wound her way through the living room to the stairway that led to the second floor, she found Ben just mounting the steps.

      “I got waylaid by Miguel—last-minute instructions,” he explained.

      “Anything I should know about?”

      “I don’t think so. Apparently there was a glitch and the wedding arch just arrived. But it’s set up now and all the chairs are in place. He said there are enough flowers to open his own shop.”

      Sierra laughed. “Camille loves flowers, especially jasmine and gardenias.”

      “That’s what’s there.”

      As they walked up the beautiful oak stairs, the scent of lemon oil permeated the space. Ben asked, “What’s your favorite flower?”

      She looked over her shoulder at him. “I’m partial to roses, especially pale pink ones.”

      “You wear the scent of roses.” He reached the landing a step behind her.

      “You noticed!”

      Beside her now on the second floor, he gazed into her eyes and admitted, “I noticed a lot about you, Sierra. That’s how we ended up in bed together.”

      Her cheeks began to burn. Apparently Ben said exactly what was on his mind. She turned toward the second door on the right.

      After she stepped over the threshold into the guest room, she appreciated the white iron bedstead, carved oak furniture, beautiful lace curtains and colorful rugs on the floor.

      Ben lifted the dress. “Where do you want this?”

      She took it from him, opened the closet and hung it inside. “I might have to touch it up with an iron.”

      He carried her duffel bag to the bed and set it on the mattress. His gaze lingered on the bed and hers did, too.

      They looked up at the same time and their eyes locked.

      As if she’d stepped into a time machine, Sierra was tossed back seven weeks. The room was Ben’s room at the inn, the bed was Ben’s bed. They’d sat on the edge of it, talking, and then the talking had turned into kissing.

      They’d undressed each other hungrily. They’d come together so passionately, thought had fled. Good sense had gotten buried and only desire had mattered. Although they’d been eager, Ben hadn’t rushed with her. He’d made sure she was as hot and needy as he was. And when he’d entered her, he’d blotted out the rest of the world.

      But then she’d awakened, knowing he’d have regrets and so would she. So she’d left.

      Not removing his gaze from hers, Ben approached her slowly.

      Her mouth suddenly seemed very dry.

      “When you left in the middle of the night, you knew we’d see each other again today.”

      “Yes, I did.”

      “How were you going to play that? How were you going to act?”

      “If you hadn’t contacted me, I would have pretended that night never happened. How about you?”

      “I don’t think I could have pretended it never happened. I would have asked you why you didn’t stay.”

      “It was a mistake.”

      “You decided that for me, too?” There was a hard edge to his voice, as if he didn’t like that idea at all.

      “If it hadn’t been a mistake, you would have called.”

      “Women,” Ben said, shaking his head. “You left, but I was supposed to call?”

      “It really doesn’t matter anymore, does it?”

      “I think maybe it does. I want to know the real reason why you left. The truth, Sierra. Not just something you think I might want to hear.”

      Could she tell him the truth? His turbulent gray eyes told her that she’d better or he’d never believe another thing she said. She swallowed hard. “You scared me.”

      That completely shocked him. “Did I hurt you in some way?”

      “No,” she quickly replied. “No, you didn’t hurt me. I guess I said that wrong. You didn’t scare me. Your intensity scared me because I responded to it. I…that was the first time for me in a long time. I didn’t think I was ready. I didn’t think I could—I’m not putting this very well. It was just very unnerving for me. I didn’t know how to deal with it so I left.”

      His gray gaze was penetrating, as if he wanted to turn her inside out…see to the very bottom of her soul. Finally he admitted, “I don’t trust easily, Sierra. I’m still not sure why you came to me about the pregnancy. I’m still not sure what you want.”

      She was afraid to admit what she wanted. She was afraid to admit that making love with Ben Barclay had wiped away everything that had gone before, had