SHANE UTTERED A SOFT curse as he paced up and down the hallway, stark naked and feeling cornered, with Lone Star on his heels. Ethel Crumble was due any second. When Shane awakened, he’d slid naked from bed, coming straight out here, hoping for a quick flash of brilliance. Or the return of the logic he’d lost seven years ago, the day he’d first seen Delilah.
“Lillian,” he murmured in correction.
Lillian, who’d studied the facts of his life, coaxing out feelings Shane never guessed he had. Last night’s intimacy had shaken loose the last of his remaining locked-up places. He’d hidden none of his tenderness and he hadn’t bothered to shield her from the intense physical hunger she aroused in him.
Turning, he headed toward the living room again, his eyes darting around as if the walls held answers about what he should do now. Once last night, in a broken voice, she’d said, “Nothing like this has ever—ever—happened to me, Shane,” and he knew she’d been thinking of Sam Ramsey, whom they’d never even talked about. Not that Shane was proud of his need to erase the traces of her husband. Her previous husband. But he was glad she thought he was a better lover.
Reaching the living room, he turned, heading back in the direction of the front door and the grandfather clock, glancing toward the bedroom door. The image of Lillian, still in bed sleeping, made his heart squeeze so tight that he lifted a hand and kneaded the spot. He wanted to make her breakfast, then get back in bed with her.
But he had to think. He had to find out what she’d done with the Mob’s money. Soon, Fin was going to give up on finding it, and bring her in for questioning. At that time, she’d be officially booked for fraud charges relating to the false identity she’d assumed. Unfortunately, Shane’s repeated searches of her apartment and office were turning up nothing. And yesterday, he’d phoned Uncle Silas’s partner, Trusty Joe, who was retired now. Trusty Joe said the money was definitely in the car she was driving that night. So, where was the evidence of what she’d done with it? And why had she run?
She had to have good reasons. Shane loved her so much he couldn’t believe otherwise. He knew that now. Which meant he couldn’t tell her why he’d really moved in with her. Feeling betrayed, she might throw him out, rejecting his help when she needed him most. It was a risk he wasn’t about to take.
“What a mess,” he muttered. He just wished he knew what to do about Brandon. Shane’s heart seemed to stretch inside his chest. Not that he really wanted a baby, of course. But he did want to make Lillian happy…
She’s my wife.
Shane stopped in midstride, absorbing that, then he resumed pacing. Yeah, this morning, he was about as married as any man could be. How had he so seriously miscalculated the depth of his own passion? Been so blind to his own motivations? How long had he been denying his fantasies about adopting Brandon? Or his jealousy of Sam Ramsey?
For years, Shane knew he felt…something.
But until last night, he’d never called it love.
He’d really thought his obsession with Lillian stemmed from the case. He’d said, “Sure, she’s beautiful.” It was a simple fact. Any red-blooded man who had her under surveillance would have had fantasies. But all along, he’d thought his sole motive was to eventually punish whoever pulled the trigger of the gun that killed his uncle. Lillian was the key to that mystery.
It was a mystery Shane still intended to solve, but that hardly explained why he’d been living and breathing nothing but Lillian for seven years. Fact was, he’d solved a number of crimes without getting married. Or becoming a father. “You’re not a father,” Shane whispered.
He just wished he could call his little brother for advice. Doc had more experience than Shane with long-term relationships. But Shane had been lying to Doc for weeks, by omission. Every day at Big Apple Babies, he and Doc lunched together, but Shane hadn’t even mentioned Lillian. Now Shane thought of Doc’s baby girl, Astrid. With her spray of black hair, she really could be Brandon’s cousin.
Of course, Shane wasn’t adopting Brandon.
But he’d fallen in love with Lillian. And she wanted a baby. He’d nearly reached the living room when a sound intruded on his thoughts. Someone was knocking, probably Ethel. Only when the door started swinging inward, did Shane realize it hadn’t shut securely last night. He was getting as bad as Lillian about relying on the building’s internal security. And Shane knew better than to ignore standard safety procedures.
“Wait!” Maybe it wasn’t Ethel. He bolted down the hallway, determined to catch the door. He almost made it. His fingers swiped the air, brushing wood just as it opened.
“Shane!” Ethel gaped—her jaw slack, the rest of her frozen. Only her round owlish blue eyes moved, dropping to…
He was naked. He’d reflexively sprinted for the door, forgetting. Holding his hands in front of him, Shane edged a pace backward, thinking, Poor Ethel. Despite her old-fashioned name, the virginal caseworker was only in her twenties, and her face was as now as dark red as the blunt-cut bob that swung around her shoulders.
“Shane, so good to see you!” she suddenly tittered, her eyes sparkling in a way that said she meant to thoroughly enjoy his discomfort.
Shane’s jaw set. Suddenly, he felt ridiculous, standing there like Adam. Adam—he wished! About now, he’d kill for a fig leaf. Not that her embarrassed girlish giggles bothered him. Hell, he was an ex-detective. A security guard. He owned a gun. “Good to see you, Ethel,” he managed dryly, edging back another step, his eyes searching the hallway for something he could wrap around himself.
“Is this symbolic?” She sagged against the door, still laughing with embarrassment. “Like, you’re in your birthday suit because you want a newborn? Get it?”
He got it all right. But why wasn’t she turning around? “Look, could you just excuse me while I get some pants?” He guessed he could turn and simply walk back to the bedroom. Yeah, that’s what he’d do. So what if she saw his butt? Right?
She was still grinning at him, her face bright red.
His eyes landed on the marble-topped table and his Stetson. Of course, to get it, he’d have to unclasp his hands… He reached quickly. The hat wasn’t much, but it would have to do. Grabbing the brim, he turned the interior so it cupped his unmentionables.
“Gee, that really helps!” Ethel chuckled. “My hat’s off to you!” she added shrilly.
Shane glanced over his shoulder. The bedroom looked miles away. “You know, Ethel,” he said levelly. “You could turn around now.”
Her laughter had tempered to a wicked grin. “Not on your life, Shane.”
“Shane?” Lillian’s gasp came from the bedroom doorway where she stood, clutching a sheet to her chest. Obviously, she wasn’t wearing a stitch more than Shane.
“Naked,” Ethel announced. “Save for matching mortified expressions.”
“Before today, Ethel,” Shane said levelly, “I thought you were a nice woman.”
“Oh, Ethel, I’m so sorry—” Lillian’s flustered, upset voice called from the other end of the hallway. “Please, seat yourself in the living room! We’ll be right in!”
Maybe. Shane was still staring at the far-off bedroom doorway. Well, it was now or never. Pressing the Stetson firmly to his groin, he started walking backward again. “Do go away, Ethel,” he managed.
“Go away? And miss this fashion show?” Ethel loosed a gasping laugh. “No way. Believe me, this is better than anything this side of Madison Avenue.”
LILLIAN WANTED TO CRY. Not that she would. But the power of Shane’s lovemaking had left her completely shaken. And now, before she could even process it, Ethel had arrived. Lillian stormily swept past Shane in an uncharacteristic emotional display, pulling on her robe and grabbing underwear from the drawer. “How could you do this to me!” she burst out.
Shane glanced up, his eyes widening in slight surprise as he stepped into jeans and buckled his belt. He studied her a long moment, then he simply reached out and grasped her elbow. “Whoa. Hold on, Lillian.”
His voice was so soothing she wanted to scream. How could he be calm at a time like this? Ethel was here! And wasn’t he even affected by what happened last night? She jerked back. “We don’t have time to talk right now!”
“Ethel’s waiting another minute won’t hurt.”
“She saw you naked!”
“And going off like a rocket won’t help.”
Feeling totally unbalanced, she strode to a mirror. Pursing her lips, she tried to roll a French twist, but her fingers were shaking so much she made a mess of it. Escaped strands of hair fell against her neck. “I’ll never get Brandon now.” She was so sure it wasn’t going to happen that her heart was breaking.
Even worse, she could feel Shane staring at her back with that calm self-restraint that, on any other morning, might have been reassuring. He said, “Is this really all you have to say to me this morning, Lillian?”
She caught the last escaped tendril of her hair, tucked it into the twist and secured it with a pin. Squaring her shoulders, she regally swung around to face him—bracing herself against the irrational anger rushing through her. And against what this man had done to her last night. In a few hours, his dark kisses had swept her away like a rushing current, and she’d been flooded with a storm of emotions she hadn’t felt for years—or ever before.
How could she have let it happen? She’d sworn she’d never let herself be vulnerable again. She couldn’t afford to be open, trusting and reliant—like the foolish, blushing, gushing bride who’d once believed in the husband who said he loved her. After all, that’s how she’d been on her first wedding night—right up until Sam Ramsey destroyed her. Just how long would it take for Shane to do the same thing?
Right now, she felt as furious with Shane as with herself. In fact, everything about him was making her angry, including his feigned mild manner and the ease with which he sometimes teased and joked with her. Not even his icy reserve had expressed his true self. No, last night, Lillian had finally met the real Shane Holiday. And the introduction was something she’d definitely never forget. Wrapped in his naked arms and the sheets, she’d become highly acquainted with why fiery explosions periodically punctured his reserve: because the molten core of him was all hot passion and raw tenderness. All love. And she was scared to death of it.
“Well?” he finally said.
It took everything she had, but she kept her voice from trembling, and gave a quick toss of her head. “Just what did you expect me to say to you this morning, Shane?”
His lips compressed and those all-seeing eyes searched hers. “Please, Lillian,” he said levelly, even though dealing with emotions wasn’t exactly his strong suit. “Just share with me whatever you’re feeling.”
Her heart tugged with the need to love him, even as fear, masked as anger, continued pouring through her. “I don’t think what I feel right now matters,” she was powerless but to snap. “Everything’s ruined. Ethel knows we’re not a punctual couple and that you go around naked with the door open.”
The set of his jaw said he was above gracing that with a response, and that he knew she was unreasonably taking out her nervousness on him, but trying to soothe her, he said, “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sure you are.” She strode for her jewelry box. He was sorry. Great. She wished he’d scream and yell. Or give her that cold reserve that could freeze the room. Or melt it, she thought, a lump lodging in her throat, as she stirred her earrings with a finger, blindly looking for a match. She forced herself to go on, “Not that you care about anything.” About the baby. Isn’t that what you really want to say, Lillian? Aren’t you trying to goad him into saying he wants to have a baby with you?
Shane’s voice came up behind her, as did his body. The voice was gruff with temper he was tamping down. The body generated heat, reminding her of the fevered dampness of his skin last night and how much his mouth had made her burn. “What don’t I care about, Lillian?”
She whirled around again, now rapidly blinking back tears. Didn’t he know she didn’t want to get involved? That she didn’t want to fall in love? Hadn’t she told him that, the day they met? The day he’d completely lied to her, assuring her he was an untouchable lone wolf. She could still hear him saying, I’m not the marrying kind.
Well, guess what, she thought. We’re married now, Shane. In every sense of the word.
“The baby,” she found herself saying aloud. “I’m the one who wants a baby, not you! You don’t care what happens today!”
His tone was even. “I care.”
About what, Shane? Me? The baby? About what happened last night? She tried to tell herself she didn’t really want any answers, that she didn’t need them, because she had absolutely no intention of falling in love with him. And yet she knew she’d already fallen. Hard. “If you care, then why did you answer the door naked?”
“I didn’t.”
Of course he hadn’t. At least, not intentionally. She knew better. Whirling away from him, she took long strides toward the walk-in closet now. Once inside, she pulled the door shut, slamming it, then she stared at the outfit she’d chosen for today—a navy A-line tent-type dress. Her heart beat wildly as she dragged on a slip, then realized it was inside out. A dry sob escaped her as she took it off, then put it on again. Last night, Shane had made love to her in ways she’d never even imagined. Next to it, Sam Ramsey didn’t even come close. And she’d married Sam. You married Shane, too.
But it wasn’t a real marriage. And she had to forget last night happened. Focus on this morning, she commanded herself, conjuring an image of Brandon—his smooth skin, strands of black hair and angelic eyes. She hadn’t even offered Ethel a soda. No coffee was made. And the A-line dress was… “It’s not right!” she burst out. “It’s just not right!”
“What’s not right, Lillian?”
She hadn’t even heard him open the door. Ignoring him, she raked at the hangars. “This stupid dress. It’s the wrong dress. I hate this dress. It’s too—too—” As she ran her hand madly over the rack, searching for another dress, she realized Shane had made her different last night, reigniting her emotional spark, changing her back to what she used to be—quick to love, quick to tears. Too bad her more emotional side was something she’d wanted to forget.
Warm broad hands settled on her shoulders, and Shane slowly turned her to face him. “The dress is perfect, Lillian.” Those devastating, unwavering, silver-blue eyes fixed on hers. “And so are you.”
Her eyes suddenly stung, feeling gritty. If he only knew. What was she supposed to do now that they’d made love? Tell him her name wasn’t really Lillian? That she regularly carted around three million bucks she’d taken from the Mob? That seven years ago, she was pretty sure, she’d witnessed a murder—but hey, it was a dark night, and the details, which still remained mysteriously buried in her mind, were a little blurry?
No. The only thing she could do was back away from Shane. And right now, she needed to train her mind on Ethel and the baby. She’d spent so many nights getting to know Shane and preparing for this. She swallowed hard. “After Ethel leaves, we really need to talk about last night…”
No doubt he knew what that meant: she was going to back away from their physical relationship, but he merely focused that penetrating gaze on her, and she had the sudden premonition she was caught. No matter what she said or did, Shane wasn’t about to let her go. He eased her blue tent dress from the hanger. His voice couldn’t have been milder as he handed it to her. “C’mon, Lillian. Ethel’s waiting.”
Her eyes drifted over him and she realized he was already dressed—in his best jeans and a nice shirt. He looked good. He was trying. He really did care about her getting the baby. She should have given him that much credit. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears that hovered in the rims. She really didn’t want to hurt him. “Everything’s just going wrong. I was going to serve…”
He was peering at her kindly through a lock of fallen raven hair. “Serve?”
“Muffins,” she managed. “And cinnamon buns.”
“Just finish getting ready and I’ll take care of it.”
“You will?”
“Sure.”
A tear suddenly fell. “I’m sorry, Shane.”
His voice was gentle. “Please. Come on over here, Lillian.” With that, he pulled her into his arms, and in spite of her overwhelming fear, her arms wound up wrapping tightly around his waist. Pressing her cheek to his clean shirt, she exhaled a shuddering sigh. Slowly, she’d gotten close to Shane, and with each new gesture of intimacy, she thought she could take another step.
Until last night.
“Oh, Shane,” she whispered miserably, able to say only part of what she felt. “I’m not going to get Brandon, I just know it.”
Leaning back, he cupped her chin and lifted her face. “C’mon,” he coaxed, leaning and offering a quick, soothing kiss. “It’s not over yet.”
But where would they be when it was over? she wondered, still tasting his lips. Was it possible that she, Shane and Brandon would be a family? And if she didn’t get Brandon, would she still have Shane?
Or was she too afraid to love again?
PANTS DIDN’T HELP, Shane decided.
Ethel still snickered every time she looked at him. Lillian, of course, was completely poised now, and being the perfect hostess. Shane just hoped her worry about the baby had caused the outburst in the bedroom, and that she wasn’t considering backing away from their physical relationship. Had Sam Ramsey hurt her in some way? The mere thought made Shane want to go at the man with his fists. Not that he could, since Sam Ramsey was dead.
Shane glanced at Lillian. She was remarkably cool under fire. Right now, the only proof of her nervousness was the slight dampness of the fingers she’d threaded through his as she told Ethel about their love affair, describing how she and Shane had been involved years ago, and how they’d met again and enjoyed a wonderful whirlwind courtship. She was brilliantly threading through all the facts of Shane’s life—somehow managing to mention Ruthie Miles, Chrissy Winters, and the fact that he’d been number seventy-two on the football team at Lundston.
Shane still hadn’t decided how to handle the situation. It would kill him to make a further bad impression—he couldn’t stand to think about intentionally undercutting Lillian’s chances of getting Brandon—but helping a fugitive, even Lillian, adopt a baby didn’t sit well with him. Besides, if she was arrested, the baby would be taken from her. Not if, Shane. When. The woman’s carrying a falsified Social Security card.
He eyed Ethel, who was sipping iced tea from a monogrammed glass he and Lillian had received as a wedding gift. “Well,” he found himself halfheartedly venturing, “you know Lillian grew up in a…redbrick split-level—uh no, it was a…”
“Little white house with a picket fence, wasn’t it, Lillian?” Ethel said.
Lillian shot him a look that nearly broke his heart. She knew he had an excellent memory. Her eyes pleaded with him, saying, Why are you doing this to me? You’re supposed to help me, Shane! You said you cared about the baby! It ripped out his damn heart. If he pretended to forget her supposed past again, the disappointed expression in her eyes would kill him.
“So you both miss the South?” Ethel asked conversationally.
It took everything he had, but he gave it another try. “Lillian more so than me. She loves the food. There was a dish her daddy used to make….” Feeling crushed under the weight of his own self-loathing, he squinted as if trying to recall. “I think her daddy made some kind of a pot pie…”
“Gumbo,” Lillian stressed. She stared at him again, her eyes bugging. He could all but hear her voice. Please, Shane! What are you doing? Are you trying to hurt me? The whole point of your moving in was to help me get this baby. We studied so many facts about each other—how could you forget?
“Ah,” Ethel’s cup clinked again her saucer. “That amazing gumbo. You gave me the recipe, remember, Lillian?”
Of course she did. It was the reason Shane had been instructed to bring it up. Lillian’s grip on his hand tightened. Her voice held a faint protest. “Shane knows I love that gumbo. He even made it once, himself.”
Ethel merely smiled. “So, you’re looking forward to the baby, Shane?”
Shane knew exactly what lies he was supposed to tell Ethel now—the ones about teaching Brandon how to woodwork and fish. And how, when Brandon was older, they’d take long summer road trips to Texas and to Aunt Dixie Lynn’s on Bayou Teche. Except, Shane thought, his heart suddenly squeezing in a way that made him feel strangely unsettled, maybe those things weren’t lies anymore. “Well, Ethel…adopting’s really Lillian’s idea.” Even though he trained his gaze away from Lillian’s, the raw betrayal he knew was in her eyes pierced him like a knife.
Oblivious, Ethel smiled pleasantly. “Yes, Lillian wanted a baby before you two even met again.”
Lillian’s voice quavered. “But Shane wants the baby, too. He really does. When we’re alone, it’s all he ever talks about. He’s always coming home from work with things he’s bought for the baby on his lunch hour….”
Her fingers were clasped so tightly through his now that his hand actually hurt. Staring down at her white knuckles, he knew he couldn’t take much more of this.
“Shane, c’mon,” said Lillian. “Tell Ethel how much you want the baby. Remember how, just the other day, you were saying you wanted to teach him woodworking? Remember, you want to take him on some road trips?”
Even though his few fumbling responses had been calculated to ruin their chances, there was no denying the pain of loss he felt over possibly not getting the baby. And what was he going to say to Lillian when this interview was over? How could he explain the errors he’d made? How could he deal with her devastation? And what about your own disappointment, Shane? Can’t you admit this woman’s making you want a family?
Shane bit back a sigh. There was only one solution. If he wasn’t able to help Lillian, and if she was arrested, then he’d simply have to take responsibility for the baby. Hell, he didn’t know anything about babies, but maybe he could hire someone to help. Shane would…well, he would act like a father. Just a surrogate until Lillian and the baby were no longer separated. It was the only right thing to do. His responsibility, really. If the adoption went through, the boy would be his—legally.
The words seemed to come from outside himself, and Shane’s drawl sounded unusually thick to his own ears. “Maybe I’m not making myself clear, Ethel. I want the baby a lot. I’ve…really been looking forward to fatherhood.”
But his words had come too late. Ethel merely listened politely, smiled and thanked him and Lillian for their time as she rose to go. His lips parted in angry protest, which he almost voiced when he saw Lillian’s wounded disbelief.
“But Shane and I are so in love,” Lillian protested as they walked Ethel down the hallway. “We want a child to share that with. We’ve had our hearts set on it.”
Ethel merely smiled. “I can see that.”
“Well, then?” Lillian pressed when they reached the front door, her strained voice indicating she knew it was a lost cause.
Ethel turned at the threshold, uttering a soft laugh and clapping a hand to her forehead. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought the answer would be so obvious to you.” She blushed. Reaching, she took Lillian and Shane’s hands. “I admit I was suspicious of you two at first. I mean, you’d be amazed what lengths people will go to in order to adopt. We’ve even had people pretend to be married. Or actually get married, even though they’re not really in love.”
“No kidding?” Lillian murmured, looking distressed.
“Oh, yes. So, when you called for another appointment, I thought that maybe—” Ethel’s guilty color deepened. “Well, that you two were pulling some such stunt. But—”
Lillian’s voice was urgent. “But?”
“But—” Ethel colored and loosed another giggle. “Given the fact that your husband appeared at the door stark naked this morning, it’s pretty obvious you’re the genuine article. That cinched it for me. I know you’re nervous, Shane,” she continued sweetly. “But since we work for the same agency, I’m already acquainted with your background. I didn’t talk to your brother—he’d be biased—but I know you two have a great relationship. And Jake Lucas was more than helpful while I was researching your work record.”
“You talked to Jake Lucas?” Lillian said.
Ethel nodded. “As you’re probably aware, he’s the head executive at Big Apple Babies. Both Jake and I love the idea of placing the baby with people we know, where we’ll get to see him grow up. Jefferson Lawrence sent me a formal letter of recommendation, too. And…” Ethel wagged a finger at Shane. “You may act like a tough guy, but I’ve noticed how frequently you go to the nursery and look in on the baby.”
Lillian turned to him, surprised delight in her gaze. “You go to the nursery and check on the baby, Shane?”
Ethel chuckled again. “He goes at least five times a day.”
Shane assured himself that was an exaggeration as Lillian’s silken fingers curled around his biceps. It was hard to believe that hands so slender and soft could feel like iron.
“So we’re approved?” she asked in wonder.
Ethel edged over the threshold. “Absolutely. And if you’ll be home, I’ll have the baby here tonight.”
Shane’s eyes widened. Tonight? It was so quick. He hadn’t expected that. “But what about all the red tape? The final paperwork…”
Ethel shook her head. “No, Lillian’s taken care of everything. All she needed was a husband. And she’s apparently found one who loves her very much.”
“But…” Realizing his lips were still parted in mute protest, Shane managed to close them as Lillian shut the door. She’d barely turned to him before she threw back her head and laughed, lunging into his embrace with such an uncharacteristic lack of reserve that he could only catch her in his arms, feeling stunned.
“Oh, thank you, Shane—” She sprinkled his face with quick kisses. “I know you were so nervous for me that you couldn’t remember everything. I can’t believe you said pot pie, instead of gumbo. But I forgive you. I can’t believe this worked. I’ve never been so excited! Can you believe this is happening?”
“Not really,” he managed. Not that he was sorry about how things had turned out. The sudden lightness of Lillian’s bearing and the warmth of her smile meant too much to him. He knew she hadn’t experienced much joy these past few years. Her parents were gone; she had no siblings. Coworkers admired her, but she wasn’t close to them, and while parents of the kids she baby-sat often extended invitations, she always declined. As far as he knew, she didn’t have so much as one real friend, except for Jefferson Lawrence. In fact, Shane might be one of the few people on earth who even knew her real name. Or cared. That Lillian wasn’t better loved was a personal affront to him, too. She deserved so much.
As his gaze drifted over her, Shane decided that giving love was more important than taking it. All his life, he’d had his little brother to worry over, and now Shane guessed the love he’d showered on Doc had helped him more than Doc. But Lillian had no one to love. Which was why she wanted the baby so much.
Her gaze had turned solemn. Lifting a finger, she traced his lips tenderly. “Shane,” she said. “I’m sorry I exploded earlier. But I do want to talk. With the baby coming, things are different, and maybe it’s not the best time for us to get involved.”
“We’re already involved.” He very much doubted the baby was the real reason she was backing away. He shook his head. “C’mon—” His low drawl carried faint chiding. “Do you really think I’ll let you get away that easily?” Surely last night taught her more about him than that. Or had she used him to get the baby? Made love to him so he would be caught with his pants down this morning? Sudden anger flooded him as he remembered how she’d arched to take his intimate kiss, and the sheer relief he’d felt at being all the way inside her. “What?” he said with a calm he hardly felt. “Did you make love to me so we’d look more convincing to Ethel this morning? Is that why you slept with me?”
Lillian gaped at him, her dark eyes instantly sparking with temper. “How could you think that, Shane?” she demanded hotly. “How could you even suggest such a thing?” Before he could respond to the string of questions, she was blinking back tears.
“Oh, God, I’m sorry, Lillian—” Swiftly, he slid his hands over her back, bringing her a step closer, so she molded against him. Her body still vibrated with anger, but the arms that circled his waist held him with a quick rush of forgiveness he hardly felt he deserved. “I don’t know what got into me. I’ve got a suspicious nature.” And the fact that I don’t know everything about you hardly helps.
“It’s not as if you haven’t warned me, Shane.”
Holding her, he guessed he had. Every night, he’d had told her about his brooding side, about his inclination to buck authority, his dark moods, and occasional displays of temper. He had a lifelong habit of walking the razor’s edge, just as he was walking it with her. “I guess I figured you deserved to know what you’re getting yourself into.” His voice lowered a husky notch.
“And you’ve got to admit, we’ve gotten into something good, Lillian. Last night was amazing.”
“Last night was so good, Shane,” she murmured against his chest. “Too good.”
He pressed a kiss to her hair. “There’s no such thing as too good.”
“Yes, there is,” she countered, sounding certain. “And I’m afraid.” She lifted her gaze and shook her head solemnly. “Shane, I’ve made some…well, some mistakes in my life. And with Brandon coming tonight…”
“I still want to be with you,” he said softly. He had no answer for the questions in her eyes. He didn’t know how he really felt about the baby, only how he felt about her.
Her voice was heartbreakingly sincere. “Then can we slow down, Shane? Just see how things go with the baby here? Maybe not make love again right away?”
He lowered his head, bringing his lips almost to hers. “Sounds good to me.” As his eyes drifted over her face, he knew he’d stop the world from turning for this woman. “And congratulations on getting Brandon, Lillian.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, happiness shining in her eyes.
“You’re welcome,” he whispered back.
And then, right before his lips closed, warm and firm, over hers, he thought, I’ll protect both you and your son however I can. And as he pressed his mouth to the loveliest lips he’d ever seen, Shane tried to forget the people he hadn’t protected in the past. And he hoped things would be different now. Because he’d fallen seriously in love with this woman. And by tonight, she would have a child.
LILLIAN GLANCED UP. “You ready to hold the baby now?”
Shane doubted he’d ever be ready. “No, you go ahead.”
“You can hold him in a minute, Shane, I promise.”
He managed a nod, his chest feeling unbearably tight.
“Take your time.”
Shane had just returned to the nursery with a bottle, only to find the baby had fallen asleep again. Which was just as well. He’d been worried about the temperature of the milk, since instead of doing it the way Lillian showed him, he’d tested it against his wrist too long. It had gotten stone-cold, then he’d had to put another bottle in the warmer.
His eyes drifted over Lillian, who was sitting in a rocker, cradling the sleeping baby. Somehow, now that Brandon was in the nursery, he looked even smaller to Shane than he had when he was at Big Apple Babies. Scrawny, with fisted hands, he was wearing only a diaper and a tiny white shirt. Lillian gazed lovingly down at him, her face glowing and her dark eyes looking unusually serene. From the second Ethel had nestled the child into her arms, a noticeable peace had seemed to descend on Lillian.
She’d called Jefferson immediately; she was technically on maternity leave now. And Shane had called Doc, figuring he’d better, before his brother heard about the marriage and baby from Ethel or Jake. Doc might be having love troubles, but he clearly suspected something was amiss, since Shane wasn’t exactly the marrying kind. Not that it put a damper on Doc’s heartfelt congratulations. The only reason he hadn’t raced over was because he wanted to give Shane and Lillian time alone to bond with Brandon. That’s what Shane got for having a pediatrician for a brother.
“Are you okay, Shane?”
Shane glanced up. “Hmm?”
“You’re pacing.”
Realizing Lillian was right, he leaned against the wall and tried to relax.
“C’mon, Shane, why don’t you sit down in the rocker?” she suggested, rising. “I’ll hand him to you.”
“Really, I’m fine.” But he wasn’t. Shane had never even held his niece. Or any baby, he realized as he edged toward the rocker. In fact, truth be told, he’d always avoided babies, and the only reason he sat down now was because Lillian asked him to. Once he was seated, Lillian leaned toward him, and as she gently settled the child against his chest, Shane was drawing in a heavenly breath of her musk fragrance.
Shane glanced up at her. “Like this?” His arm had curved into a cradle, and now he curled a supportive hand under the baby’s head.
“That’s exactly how you should hold him,” Lillian said.
When Brandon started wriggling, Shane suddenly, reflexively lifted the baby. “No. Look…he’s waking up.”
“That’s okay,” she whispered with a smile.
Shane stared back down. He remembered Lillian telling him about the first time she’d held Brandon. She’d said in that one instant, they’d formed a bond. Now, his chest swelling, Shane knew exactly what she meant. He’d never wanted to protect anyone more in his life. His eyes lingered on the small mouth. It was puckering and moving with a gumless chewing motion. “I think he’s going to cry.”
“He’s just hungry,” Lillian assured. Kneeling next to the rocker, she lifted the bottle gently, guided Shane’s hand around it, and brought it to the baby’s mouth, showing Shane how to hold it. As the baby’s mouth closed over the bottle’s nipple, Shane felt a lump form in his throat, and when Brandon suckled hard, waving his arms with seeming pleasure, Shane touched a tiny palm, to steady it. With firm pressure, Brandon’s fingers curled around Shane’s and everything inside Shane seized up.
“Well, look at that,” he murmured.
“Yeah.” Lillian chuckled softly, sending him a long sideways glance. “Have you ever held a baby before, Shane?”
He shook his head. “I’ve got to admit, this is a first for me.”
There was a long silence.
“Shane?”
He said nothing. He couldn’t. His attention was still riveted on the baby’s suckling mouth. He felt, rather than saw, Lillian’s hand as it trailed over the rocker’s armrest. As she gently rubbed his forearm, Shane glanced over to find her smiling into his eyes in a way that brought softly shining light into hers. She whispered, “I’m going to rename him.”
Shane frowned. “You love the name Brandon.”
“I do. But I thought of a name I like better.”
“What?”
Leaning, she pressed a kiss to Shane’s cheek that undid him with its tenderness. “Shane,” she whispered. “You helped me get him. So I’m going to call him Shane.”