And then he stormed inside, leaving Carly alone with her hunger and her doubts and her self-recriminations. A shrill whistle of sound and light split the sky followed by the grand finale of the fireworks exhibition. Carly watched without awe or excitement. Her mind was occupied elsewhere.
What had happened to her vow to keep her distance?
What about Marlene? It seemed disloyal to want the man who’d been so cruel to her sister. And yet Mitch had had Carly clinging and all but begging.
If he’d truly been the untrustworthy rat bastard Marlene described, wouldn’t Mitch have taken what he wanted?
Was it possible her sister had exaggerated…or lied?
Six
F orget his kiss? Like hell she would. He wouldn’t let her.
Mitch charged downstairs Saturday morning determined to stick to Carly like barnacles on a ship’s bottom. If she refused his company, he’d simply insist on spending time with the kid. Where Rhett went, Carly followed.The sounds of laughter and high-pitched childish gibberish reached him as he neared the kitchen. It had been three and a half years since he’d said goodbye to Travis and Ashley. Would the haunting memories of what he’d lost ever go away? He stopped on the threshold.
The kid spotted him and smiled around a mouthful of food. “Mitt.”
A pain clutched Mitch’s stomach. A hunger pain. He entered the room and paused behind Carly’s chair. “Hello, squirt. Mrs. Duncan. Carly.”
He rested a hand on Carly’s shoulder. She stiffened and her silky ponytail twitched and swished across his knuckles, but she kept her eyes on her oatmeal. “Morning, Mitch.”
“Good morning, sir. I’ll have your breakfast in a jiffy.”
“Thank you.” He circled the table, entering Carly’s field of vision and catching a glimpse of desire in her chocolate eyes before she quickly averted her face. His pulse revved in response. “Sleep well?”
Her throat worked as she swallowed. “Yes. Thank you.”
“Liar.” He lowered his voice so Mrs. Duncan couldn’t hear him and earned himself a scowl. The faint circles under Carly’s eyes told the truth.
At least he wasn’t the only one who’d been miserable. He was still kicking himself for almost losing control last night. He’d never had a problem reining in his hunger before. No meant no. The fact that he’d come so close to overriding Carly’s objections and taking what he wanted—what he’d made her want—right there on the patio alarmed him.
Bulldozing over others had been his father’s MO. Not Mitch’s. Everett Kincaid may have been a brilliant businessman, but he’d been a hurricane in his personal life, leaving a trail of destruction wherever he passed. The Kincaid money broom had always managed to sweep up the debris.
Until Marlene Corbin had come along. And now Mitch had to deal with her twin. Identical DNA. Identical risk.
Still, there was a fine line between seduction and coercion—a line Mitch had no intention of crossing. Morning-after regrets and recriminations were hell to deal with. He’d leave Carly no recourse to cry foul. When she came to him she would do so willingly, and not in a passing bout of insane passion. He’d keep this affair, their marriage and their eventual divorce strictly legal.
His father hadn’t always cared on which side of the law he walked, but Mitch cared.
“I didn’t hear Rhett get up last night,” he said to force her to look at him, but paused before adding, “Despite the fireworks.”
The flush on her cheeks told him she hadn’t missed the double entendre. They’d definitely set off their own personal pyrotechnics. She blinked, hiked her chin and took in his casual clothing. “He slept through the night. You’re not going to the office today?”
“I’m spending the entire day with my brother.” He lowered himself into the chair directly across from her.
“Will he be around later? I’d like for Rhett to meet Rand.”
“I meant Rhett.”
Her lips parted and her br**sts lifted when she inhaled. Her expression turned guarded. “Rhett and I have plans.”
He wouldn’t let her shake him off that easily. “Change them.”
“I can’t.”
“Then you’ll have company.”
“I don’t think—”
“To borrow your phrase, Carly, this one’s nonnegotiable. You haven’t been reticent about your desire for me to spend time with Rhett. I’ve cleared my schedule for the weekend. He’s my priority.”
A mix of emotions crossed her face, but the last one, a mischievous twitch of her delectable lips, made him uneasy.
“Okay. We’re leaving at eight-thirty.” She rose to refill the kid’s sippy cup, giving Mitch an opportunity to appreciate the shape of her br**sts in a red tank top and her incredible legs below the hem of her blue running shorts.
“You’ve already had your run?”
“Yes.”
“Tomorrow I’ll join you.”
“We go at six.” Her tone implied she hoped that was too early for him.
“I’ll be ready.”
Mrs. Duncan set his breakfast in front of him. He nodded his thanks, then checked his watch and refocused on Carly. “If you’re going to take a shower before we leave, you’d better get started.”
“Rhett hasn’t finished eating.”
“We’ll feed the rug rat.”
She looked from him to Mrs. Duncan. “You’re sure?”
“Got it covered,” Mitch replied before the housekeeper could respond.
Carly looked ready to argue, but instead shrugged. “I won’t be long.”
She left the kitchen. Mitch looked at Mrs. Duncan. “Do you have a spare apron?”
If his question surprised her, she hid it well. “Yes, sir. I’ll get it.”
The kid had been fed and hosed off by the time Carly returned with the diaper bag on her shoulder twenty-five minutes later. Her hair draped her shoulders like damp sun-streaked silk, and makeup covered the evidence of her lack of sleep. She’d changed into a lemon-yellow T-shirt and a midthigh-length khaki skirt and white sandals. She looked good. Damned good.
She scooped up Rhett from the living-room floor where Mitch had parked him with a toy truck. “Let me change him and then we can go.”
“Done.” Mitch never went into any battle without a winning strategy. Diaper duty always scored big points with women.
She stopped in her tracks. “Della changed him?”
“I did. We’ll take my car.” He led the way to the foyer.
“How old were your fiancée’s children?”
Not a conversation he wanted to pursue. “One and four when we moved in together. What’s on the agenda for today?”
“And what age when you split?” She ignored his question.
“Two and a half years older. Where are we headed?” He opened the front door and changed the subject.
“Hialeah. Wow. That must have been hard. What were their names?”
He gritted his teeth. “Travis and Ashley. What’s in Hialeah?”
“Tina, one of my coworkers, lives there.”
The sun shone in a cloudless blue sky. It was early, but the day promised to be a July scorcher. He opened the front and back passenger-side doors and then circled to the driver’s side to prevent more questions. By the time Carly strapped Rhett into his new car seat and joined Mitch up front, he had the radio on and the sunroof open. The combination of music and wind noise guaranteed to make conversation difficult.
“Address?”
She recited the info. He typed it into his GPS, which eliminated the need for directions, and set the car in motion. Sure, he’d have to endure a visit with one of Carly’s coworkers, but then he’d have her to himself for the rest of the day.
His confidence lasted until he saw half-dozen minivans lining the street and the Mylar balloons attached to the mailbox bearing the street address she’d given him.
“It’s a birthday party,” he said flatly.
The mischievous twinkle returned to Carly’s eyes and the corners of her lips curled up, revealing her enjoyment of his predicament. Her smile had the usual effect of hitting him in the solar plexus.
“For Tina’s five-year-old twin sons. Don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.”
Damn. Not the day of seduction he had in mind, but he could roll with the change in plans. The party would last an hour or two, and then he’d be back on schedule. He parked his SUV between two mom-mobiles and tried to conceal his lack of enthusiasm. He’d endured kids’ parties before. Hell, he’d planned them. The only guarantees were noise and mess.
Carly ignored the concrete walk leading to the front door of the modest two-story structure and carried Rhett around the side of the house. She pushed open a tall wooden gate, revealing a backyard filled with a couple dozen kids of various ages and half as many moms and set the boy on his feet. Rhett toddled into the melee full steam ahead. Not a shy bone in that boy’s stubby body.
Balls of every size, shape and color dotted the patchy lawn and kids raced and swarmed like insects. A wooden swing set with a tree house on one end took up one back corner of the lot. An inflatable bounce castle had been set up in another. Mitch scanned the area for a father, but there wasn’t a single male over seven in sight.
“Hey, mister, catch.” A football came hurtling toward his head from the left. He caught it one-handed and passed it back.
The gathering of women on the back deck turned in unison. Eyebrows rose, mouths dropped open. Mitch followed Carly across the grass and forced a smile to his lips.
Carly would soon discover that, compliments of his father, Mitch detested being set up to fail.
But he’d have his revenge.
Carly’s plan had backfired.She’d allowed Mitch to horn in on her outing to teach him a lesson. Instead, she’d been the one who’d learned something. For someone she’d believed didn’t like children, he’d handled himself and the rambunctious boys very well.
Oh sure, the look of horror on his face when he’d realized they were attending a children’s birthday party had been priceless. But his dismay hadn’t lasted long.
Within minutes Mitch had charmed the mothers in the group, and then he’d gone to work on the younger set. He’d taken charge of the older boys and organized them into one game right after another for the past ninety minutes, earning him a never-ending stream of accolades from the other women present.
Carly just wanted to go home and get away from the sight of Mitch having fun and the rumble of his voice and his laughter. The combination was doing a number on her concentration. A fact her hostess hadn’t missed, if the curious glances were any indication.
Speak of the devil…
Tina plopped down on the picnic bench beside Carly. “You should have told me you were dating again. I would have quit throwing men at you.”
Carly looked up from the small pop-up tent where Rhett played beside Tina’s two-year-old daughter. Carly had known Tina for six years, and if there was anyone she could trust with the story of Rhett’s parentage, it was the coworker who’d taken Carly under her wing on Carly’s first day on the job at the sports medicine practice. Tina was ten years older but a hundred years wiser.