Chapter Twenty-Five
Maybe he was being unfairly mean to her, but she stirred up way too many uncomfortable feelings in him. She was beautiful, classy, generous and his daughter adored her. But that hadn’t stopped her from disappointing Isabella.
He knew he was being unreasonable thinking she would stop to consider the feelings of a small girl she'd known only a few weeks when her ex-husband had been tragically killed. But damn it, it was his daughter so that made it a felony in his book.
He had to tread carefully around Ms. Jade LaRossa. He'd fallen into the woman trap once before and he didn’t plan on repeating the process. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, well, you know.
Isabella’s light snore pulsed through the open microphone in her room. He smiled and pushed away from the side of the pool to resume his workout. He stroked through the water, trying to erase the woman next door from his mind but she kept charging right back in. It bothered him how relieved he felt when she explained that the man who had been touching her so intimately was actually her ex-husband. It had taken every bit of his self control to walk out of the room that night. He wanted to pick up the little prick by the scruff of his neck, toss him out into the street, and then cover Jade’s lush body with his larger, harder one.
And frankly, he was a little disappointed in Jade. The man was a pretty-boy: fake teeth, highlighted hair, spray-on tan. Hell, he probably even wore make-up.
He felt slightly guilty that the guy actually died.
Splash.
Logan sensed rather than heard the sound as it rippled beneath the surface. His night vision was excellent but the moon had disappeared behind a cloud, leaving it virtually impossible to see through the depths of the water. He surfaced and saw Jade stroking in his direction. She looked angry, determined…and so damn sexy he almost forgot to tread water.
He slowly retreated until his back hit the side of the pool. She kept up her furious advance until she was nose to nose. She wore a lacy white bra that was practically transparent.
Have mercy.
“For your information, I had to stay longer than expected in California because on the day of my ex-husband’s burial, my…two of my closest associates were also killed in a car accident.”
Wow, that was a tough break.
The brave mask she tried to wear started to crumble. Her bottom lip trembled and she blinked rapidly to stall the onslaught of tears.
Ah, no, please don’t let her cry. One thing he could not handle was a woman in tears.
“Jeez, honey, I’m sorry. That’s a lot to deal with,” he said softly.
She nodded, her brows scrunched. “I-I thought I could cope with it…”
Suddenly her face crumpled and a sad, tortured sob escaped. She covered her face with her hands. Damn. He reached for her instinctively, pulling her close.
“It’s okay. Let it out.”
He held her with one arm around her waist and the other anchoring her head against his shoulder. He stroked her hair and murmured softly to her. She cried on and on, the gut-wrenching sobs making his heart ache for her. He held her and let her lean on him in her grief, rocking her softly, soothingly in the warm water. They stayed that way for a long, long time. The sobs began to taper off and he angled his head to look at her. She'd cried herself to sleep.
He maneuvered them to the shallow end and swept her in his arms, glad for her unconscious state so she wouldn’t notice what her luscious curves barely constrained in a lacy bra and wispy panties pressed against his very naked body had done to him.
He debated on where to leave her. The pool house sported a large, comfortable bed but he couldn’t stay with her and she might wake up in the middle of the night disoriented and afraid. He couldn’t put her next to him in his king-size bed. Although the thought of holding her all night and being there if she woke up and needed comfort was mighty tempting, Bella had nightmares sometimes and crawled in next to him. He would not expose his daughter to a woman in his bed who wasn’t his lawfully wedded wife.
He decided to take her to her house. It would require some crafty maneuvering that would be hard to do without waking her—and in the nude.
He lifted them both out of the water and waited a minute while they dripped dry. The slight breeze did nothing to cool his heated flesh. He tipped her higher in his arms so he could hold her with one arm and stepped into his shorts. He crouched down and pulled them up his legs.
He glanced at her face. Still asleep.
He slid into his sneakers and bent to grab the baby monitor. He considered gathering her clothes, but he didn’t want to risk waking her. She needed sleep.
Toting her across the lawn, he pushed through the gate and cringed at the rusty squeak, making a mental note to oil it tomorrow. He approached her back door. Unlocked. Tugging the slider open, he angled her inside and closed it carefully with his foot. Silently he padded across the white-tiled kitchen and up the back staircase to the top floor. The chill of the air conditioning made goose bumps pop out along his arms.
A light shone from the bedroom she'd claimed as her own. He tugged down the covers and placed her on the sheets. Her hair had dried from being held out of the water but her bra and panties were still soaking wet. Should he take them off? He couldn’t let her lay there in damp clothes and risk her catching a cold. He pulled open a dresser drawer and found a red silk nightgown with spaghetti straps. He reached down, unhooked the bra and tugged the panties down her legs and then gently slid the gown over her head and settled it into place without looking.
Okay, a small peek. He was a guy, he couldn’t help it.
He tugged the sheet to cover her, bent down to kiss her forehead and run the back of his fingers down her flawless skin. She stirred slightly, a smile curving her lips as she sought out his touch and rubbed her cheek against his fingers.
Regretfully, he removed his hand and stepped back, gathering her damp undergarments from the floor. Reversing out of the room, he flipped off the light and carried her bra and panties to the bathroom. He draped both items over the shower curtain rod to dry, descended the stairs and locked the door on his way out.
#
Did Juliet get his gift yet?
He hoped so. Even though he hadn’t heard from her, he knew it was exactly what she would want.
She'd looked so lovely at the funeral. With the large turnout, he feared she wouldn’t get the chance to talk to him with all the people surrounding her, but she did. She always made sure to let him know that she was thinking about him.
Juliet picked a newspaper this time to communicate. He would have preferred the television so that he could look at her exquisite face, but she used the TV last time. His Juliet liked to mix things up, keep him on his toes. He didn’t have to search too hard for her message—she put it on the front page of the LA Times.
He'd been very upset when the picture adjoining the article was of that smarmy bastard Kyle Ashton. But Kyle was dead, nothing but a smoldering pile of ashes. He couldn’t upset Juliet any longer.
“See, Mother?” He held up the newspaper. “I told you she didn’t forget about me. She loves me.”
His mother just scowled.
He shrugged a shoulder, too happy to let his mother’s disapproval bother him.
He prepared another package to send his darling Juliet, this one just as magnificent and special as the last one. He carefully tied the red bow and placed the box inside a larger one.
And this time, he would deliver it in person.
“Pack your things, Mother. We're going on a road trip.”