One Kiss in... Miami: Nothing Short of Perfect / Reunited...With Child / Her Innocence, His Conquest. Katherine Garbera

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СКАЧАТЬ so gently, Justice settled his daughter into his arms, cradling her as though she might shatter, his grip a trifle awkward. She responded by touching everything within reach. If she could grab it, it went into her mouth for a taste. If she couldn’t, her nimble fingers explored it as though attempting to discern how and why, where and what. And most important, whether she could take it apart.

      “She’s beautiful,” he murmured.

      “Thanks. I’d say it was the luck of the draw. Somehow I suspect you’d say something about the expression of genetic information and the role of dominant versus recessive versus blending genes,” she dared to tease.

      He glanced up, his eyes glittering with a hunger that threatened to bring her to her knees. How quickly it happened, that unbreakable bond that connected hearts and souls, parent to child. She caught the stamp of possession. The want. And even more, the need.

      “Actually, I was about to say that she takes after you,” he said.

      Simple and sincere and utterly unlike Justice. It could only be Noelle’s influence, and Daisy wished with all her heart that it wouldn’t stop there. “I’d say she was a perfect blend. Look at her, Justice. Her eye color is somewhere between yours and mine. Her hair is more strawberry than blond or ebony. She’s as extroverted as I am and as brilliant as you are.”

      As though in response to the comment, Noelle beamed at her father, showing off eight pearly nubs.

      “She has teeth already.” A slight frown creased Justice’s brow. “And you said she’s verbal. Can she walk?”

      “Yes. She’s still a little unsteady on her feet, but that doesn’t stop her from getting to where she wants to go.”

      “So much,” he murmured. “I’ve missed so much.” He passed a hand over her curls, stroked a creamy cheek with his fingertip. She crowed in delight, grabbing his finger and tugging it back to her face. “She’s not the least reticent.”

      “No, she has a very outgoing personality. She’s never been at all clingy.”

      “Is she naked for a reason?”

      Daisy wondered when he’d get around to that. “I’m afraid your daughter doesn’t like wearing clothes. I don’t know how she does it, but she’s a little escape artist. I’ll turn my back for no more than two seconds and she’s wriggled out of whatever I’ve dressed her in. Cribs and high chairs don’t hold her. And forget about a playpen.”

      “Huh.”

      “What does ‘huh’ mean?” she asked suspiciously.

      He ignored her question. “And the cupboards?” he asked. “Was that your housekeeper or our daughter?”

      Daisy sighed. “Noelle,” she admitted.

      “Huh.”

      She planted her hands on her hips. “That’s twice you’ve ^‘huhed’ your daughter and you still haven’t explained the first one, let alone the second. What do you know that I don’t?”

      He hesitated, his eyes guarded, intensifying her level of concern. “My ‘huh’—both of them—indicate a familiarity and understanding of Noelle’s methods and thought processes.”

      She didn’t bother to conceal her relief. “That didn’t take long.”

      “No,” he murmured. “But then, there’s a reason for that.”

      “Please,” she encouraged in a polite voice. “Don’t keep it to yourself or I might just grab one of the pots Noelle was banging and beat it out of you.”

      Justice eyed her almost defensively. “I believe this might be the appropriate time to admit to a certain genetic propensity, one that I hope you’ll learn to accept over time.”

      Her maternal instincts went on red alert. “You’re making me very, very nervous. Are you suggesting there’s something wrong with our daughter?”

      “Not exactly.”

      “Then what? And I do mean exactly.”

      “It’s not Noelle’s fault. It’s mine. It’s part of the genetic makeup she inherited from me. How her brain is wired.” He cradled Noelle tight against his body, very hard, the sweeping line of his posture telegraphing a clear protective impulse, one he’d no doubt deny if she dared point it out to him. “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t hold it against her.”

      “Hold it …” Daisy trailed off, stunned. “Dear God, Justice. Do you think I’d ever criticize our daughter for something as natural and basic as human curiosity? That I’d ever punish her for exploring her world and trying to figure out how it works?”

      “Some people would. Some people would consider her flawed.”

      Hurt ripped through her, catching in her throat and bleeding through her words. “I’m not some people. I’m Noelle’s mother. I adore her. I’d do anything for her. Sacrifice anything.”

      Justice closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. “I apologize. It’s just …” He looked at her again, direct and unflinching, his eyes the color of tarnished gold. “I’ve seen it happen before.”

      He made the statement so simply and resolutely, and yet with such unspeakable pain and vulnerability. Her heart ached for him. “Who did you see it happen to, Justice?” she asked gently. “You?”

      He nodded. Once. “Noelle is processing her world by dismantling it,” he explained. He paused a beat. Gathered himself. “That particular characteristic got me kicked out of my first half-dozen foster homes.”

      She didn’t know what she’d expected, but it wasn’t that. “Let me get this straight. Some of your earlier foster parents made you leave because you took things apart? Are you serious?”

      “Quite.” He clenched his jaw. “I tried not to. I did. But I couldn’t seem to help myself. I imagine it became annoying when they’d get up in the morning, only to discover the coffeepot or toaster disassembled.”

      “Then, why did you do it?”

      “I needed to take things apart and study them in order to understand how they worked.” He made the statement as though it should have been obvious. “It was perfectly logical.”

      Daisy hid a smile. “Of course it was. Assuming you could then put them back together.”

      “That took a bit longer to master. Now that I think about it, your parents were the first to understand that.” A small frown creased his brow, as though the memory were an unwelcome one. “I’d forgotten until now. Your father actually encouraged my curiosity by finding broken-down lawn mowers and computers and car engines and letting me tinker.”

      “I remember you had all these mechanical parts spread out over our entire garage,” she murmured. “Everything organized just so on counters and tarps and in jars. And heaven help anyone who dared move so much as a single nut or bolt.”

      “And yet, you moved them all the time.”

      Her СКАЧАТЬ