The Bravos: Family Ties: The Bravo Family Way / Married in Haste / From Here to Paternity. Christine Rimmer

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      “That’s right—how about dessert?”

      “No thanks.” She fiddled with her water glass. “You don’t want to talk about her, about your ex-wife….”

      He looked at her steadily now. “No, I don’t. There’s no point. All that’s in the past.” And then he reached across the white tablecloth and laid his hand over hers. “The tiramisu is excellent here.”

      “No. Really. No more.”

      “Shall we go, then?”

      “All right.” She saw promises in his eyes, erotic ones. Her curiosity about the lost Belinda faded—for the moment anyway. She was all breathlessness, all yearning desire.

      He took care of the check and they were out of there. In the car he glanced over at her. “Come home with me.”

      Oh, how she wanted to do just that. But she was having another dose of second thoughts, thinking again how she couldn’t afford to get too wrapped up in him. “I don’t know. It’s getting kind of late.”

      “A lame excuse if I ever heard one. It’s barely ten and it’s Friday. No KinderWay tomorrow.”

      He was right. And besides, she couldn’t bear to say good-night. Not yet. She suggested, “You could come to my place….”

      “Why? So you can kick me out as soon as you’ve gotten what you want from me?”

      She felt the grin as it tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I would never do that.”

      “Good to know—but I have plans.”

      “And they are?”

      “We can stop by your house. You can pick up what you need for tomorrow. We’ll spend the day together—you and me and Ashlyn.”

      “You want me to stay the night at your place, you mean?”

      “Yes. I do.”

      It seemed … shocking somehow, that he would suggest she spend a whole night in his bed. She wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe because of Ashlyn. The day before, he’d been so careful to make sure that Ashlyn was nowhere around while they made love. “Has Ashlyn gone somewhere for the night, then?”

      He took his gaze off the road long enough to send her a puzzled glance. “No. Why?”

      “Well, if I stayed at your apartment, Ashlyn would find me there in the morning.”

      Even in profile his amusement was clear. “Gee whiz. You’re right.”

      “I’m serious. I just don’t …” The words trailed off as she tried to figure out how to finish.

      “You don’t what?”

      “Oh, I don’t know. Will that bother her if she finds me there in the morning?”

      “Cleo, you’ve taken child-development classes. You know how a five-year-old thinks. Ashlyn likes you. A lot. If you show up at the breakfast table, she’s only going to think that you’re there to see her.” He sent her another glance and his voice went to velvet. “And I promise not to do X-rated things to you unless we’re alone in my bedroom with the door locked.” He looked at the road again. “Say yes. Say it now.”

      She shouldn’t. And she knew it. But she said it anyway. “Yes.”

      Much later, as they lay in his bed, drowsy and contented and thoroughly satisfied, he asked her if she was on the pill.

      She told him no. She hadn’t liked the side effects. “I do have a diaphragm….”

      He smoothed her hair off her forehead and placed a kiss at her temple. “Whatever. Just wondered. I don’t mind using condoms—if you don’t.”

      “Condoms are fine with me.” She rolled so she was on her side, facing him, and snuggled in closer. Funny. Even the mundane and often awkward contraception conversation seemed somehow perfectly natural and easy with Fletcher.

       Maybe because he’s had that particular conversation so many times …

      The snide thought came into her mind and she ordered it away. It wouldn’t quite go. “Fletcher?” He made a low sound, one that told her he was listening. She laid a hand on his hard chest, felt the slow, strong beating of his heart beneath her palm. “Maybe you’ll think I’m backward and conservative. But I do work with kids. It’s part of my job to be … more respectable than most.”

      “Meaning?”

      “Well, it could be considered suspect. You’re funding my preschool and here I am in your bed.”

      “It’s no one’s business,” he said. “No one’s business but ours. And I’m not going to sneak around if that’s what you’re asking for.”

      She realized she wasn’t. Not really. “I just want you to understand. This isn’t … casual for me.”

      He tipped her chin up to him. “And you assume that it is for me?”

      “I assume nothing.” It wasn’t true. She had made assumptions. And she probably shouldn’t have. She tried a different tack. “Let me put it this way. For as long as it lasts between us …”

      She felt his lips in her hair, the warmth of his breath as he kissed the crown of her head. “Say it,” he whispered.

      “I want faithfulness from you. I want for there to be no other women, only me.” He was quiet. But he did run a finger up the side of her arm, causing warm little shivers to bloom beneath her skin. She tipped her head back so she could see his face. “Well?”

      His eyes burned into hers. “Do I get the same from you?”

      “You do.” She told him the truth. “As a matter of fact, I’ve been faithful to you since the day that I met you.” Something flared in his eyes. Triumph? Possessiveness? She wasn’t sure. She added, “I spent several weeks denying it, trying to keep from admitting to myself that the only man I wanted touching me was you. But I’ve … faced up to it now.”

      “Brave of you.”

      “I think so.”

      “And will you stay faithful to me—for as long as we’re together?”

      Piece-of-cake question. “Yes. Absolutely.”

      “Fair enough, then. It’s a deal.”

      And he kissed her, gently at first and then more deeply.

      The world centered down to his hands on her flesh, his knowing mouth and his wicked tongue. She could much too easily grow accustomed to spending her nights in Fletcher’s bed.

      The next morning Ashlyn behaved as Fletcher had predicted.

      Her face lit up when Cleo entered the kitchen. “Cleo! You came to my house. I’m so glad.”

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