Corporate Daddy (10 page)

Muttering, he leaped up and hurried to put a stop to it before Amanda Sue woke screaming. He yanked open the door, prepared to scowl—and smiled instead.

“Emily!”

“Hi. How’s it going?”

He couldn’t help giving her the once-over. She looked delectable in a body-hugging, dark wine-red turtleneck sweater and matching leggings. Her long hair, held back by a wide white elasticized headband, swung against her shoulders in a soft, brown-gold fall. Her feet were covered, in deference to the cold weather, no doubt, in tasseled loafers and white socks with the tops folded around her slender ankles to form fat, neat cuffs. The corduroy car coat thrown over her shoulders reminded him that the nip in the air now permeating the entry hall was coming from outside.

“Come in!” he said, hopping back out of her way. She hesitated for maybe one second before stepping over his threshold and closing the door behind her. He led the way into the living room, wincing as he saw it again. “Uh, this isn’t as bad as it looks.”

She stepped up next to him, and he felt rather than heard her indrawn breath. “Oh, my,” she said.

He bowed his head, scratching the back of his neck. “Okay, so it is as bad as it looks, but she’s asleep right now, so I can…” He couldn’t say it any more than he could do it. Walking over to the couch, he dropped down onto it with a heartfelt sigh. “I feel like I’ve been dragged behind a horse through a pasture of cactus and a herd of cows.”

She had the gall to laugh while standing there bursting with healthy energy and looking as though she’d just walked off the page of a magazine. Why had he never before realized how stunningly beautiful she was? For the first time in his life he actually felt uncomfortably ill groomed. He needed a shower and a shave and clothes that didn’t look ready for the ragbag. Self-consciously he raked his fingers through his hair, thinking that he probably needed a haircut, not to mention a comb.

“Put your feet up for a few minutes,” she said. “I’ll make us some coffee.”

He wanted to say that she didn’t have to do that, but instead he said what he felt. “That sounds great.”

Tossing aside her coat and small handbag, she headed for
the kitchen. He fought the urge to run for the shower. Lying back on the couch, his head pillowed on the arm, he closed his eyes and tried to think how to turn this unexpected visit into a romantic encounter. The next thing he knew something delicious and compelling tickled his nostrils, rousing him. “Hmm?”

“Maybe I should let you sleep.”

He came fully awake and sat up, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Man, that smells wonderful.”

“Here, then,” she said, pushing the mug into his hands. He cupped the warmth and let the rising steam bathe his face with the delectable aroma of coffee and the siren call of caffeine. Finally, he sipped.

“Good.”

She sat down in the chair across the room from him. “So, tell me about your morning.”

He shook his head. “Two terms come to mind.
Greased lightning
and
putting out fires
.”

She chuckled again. “Well, I don’t see any smoke damage, so I’d say you did pretty well.”

“That’s what you think,” he retorted. “My housekeeper’s going to take one look at this place and quit. I might as well start interviewing maids along with nannies.”

“We’ll take a swipe at it together in a few minutes. Then, afterward we’ll discuss the concept of setting limits.”

He was grateful as all get out, but he couldn’t help saying, “I thought you had plans.”

“Got through early,” she said dismissively.

He knew he shouldn’t probe, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “Did you get to spend some time with Ciara Wilde?”

“No, actually I got to spend some time at the laundry and paying bills.”

“Oh. Well, in that case I’m glad you got through early.”

“I thought you might be,” she said wryly. She sipped her coffee, then added, “I can’t stay too long. I have groceries in the car.”

“I’ll bring them in,” he said, getting to his feet.

She waved him back down, capitulating easily. “They’ll be okay for now. Why don’t you take a minute to freshen up? You’ll feel better.”

This time he did race to the bathroom, where he quickly brushed his teeth, combed his hair and got out the electric razor. It didn’t do a great job, but it was better than nothing, and he didn’t have time for a manual shave. He took the time to change his shirt, opting for a soft, blue plaid flannel in hopes that she would think he’d chosen it for its warmth instead of its eye-enhancing color. The jeans would do, he decided, and went out. She was in the kitchen, so he picked up his coffee mug and followed her in there.

She was down on her knees with a wet paper towel, scrubbing food off his floor.

“Here let me do that,” he said, knowing he should have done it sooner.

“What is this?” she asked in a tone of disgust.

“Something my daughter does not relish,” he said, getting down there with her. “Tuna salad.”

“Ah. What a pity I didn’t bring Goody. Tuna is one of the few things she’ll eat besides her dry feed.”

“Another good reason to get a cat,” he quipped, and she actually smiled at him.

“You’d do better with a mop at this point.”

“Right. What do you think, pound or pet shop?”

She laughed. “Try the laundry room.”

“Good idea! I knew I kept you around for some reason.” He got up and went to the laundry room for the mop, which he carried to the sink and dampened beneath the spigot.

“Better wipe down that cabinet front first and let me clean her chair.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He used the sponge, rinsing it out carefully when he was done, then helped her wipe down the high chair with an antibacterial cleaner. When they were done, she refilled both their coffee mugs and tiptoed to the table while he swabbed
the floor. He joined her a few moments later, and they sipped coffee, discussing how to toddler-proof his house and teach his daughter to keep her hands off his things without resorting to spankings or hand slaps and a one-word vocabulary of no. When the floor was dry, they went to the living room to straighten up there. She found one of his dress shoes beneath the chair and his cowboy boots beneath the stairwell. He marveled at this last. How on earth had little Amanda Sue gotten those heavy boots under the stairwell without him noticing? What else had she done that he remained unaware of? His skin crawled with the thought.

“Those plugs you bought for the electrical outlets are in a drawer in the kitchen,” he said. “I’ll go get them.”

He not only got them, he used them, plugging every electrical outlet within four feet of the floor. While he did that, she picked up the toys and remaining shoes scattered through the living and bed rooms. Then she tossed out the torn magazines while he put the CDs back in order and moved the storage rack into a corner behind a table. Some minor shuffling made sure that Amanda Sue couldn’t get to his magazines again, and while he was at it, he put a special childproof catch on the doors of the entertainment center. He was almost through with that when the monitor on the coffee table crackled and a little voice said sleepily, “Daddy?”

A thrill shot up his spine. He glanced at Emily, whose smile seemed to say he’d done well for some reason. As she made herself comfortable on the couch, he galloped up the stairs. Amanda Sue was yelling at the top of her lungs by the time he got there.

“Dad-dy! Up!”

“I’m here, sweetheart.”

She plopped down on her butt and smiled at him, then toppled backward and spread her legs. He didn’t have to be told in words that she was ready for a dry diaper. Laughing, he changed her, cleaned his hands with an antibacterial wipe
and wrestled her shoes on her while she repeatedly demanded a “grink.”

“Emily’s here,” he told her as he hurried toward the stairs with her in his arms.

“Mimy,” she cried at the top of the stairs. To his surprise she didn’t immediately go into Emily’s arms, however. Instead she clung to him, pointed to the kitchen and said, “Grink.”

“We’ll be right back,” he said, hurrying away. With Amanda Sue on his hip, he got the juice from the refrigerator and took down a clean cup and lid. He sat her on the counter, trapped her there with his body and filled the cup. She was reaching for it before he got the lid snapped on, but he managed. When he handed her the cup, she murmured something that sounded very much like, “Kank ’ou.” Mechanically he said, “You’re welcome.”

“Looks like you’ve got it all under control,” Emily said from the doorway. He turned, one hand automatically reaching for Amanda Sue, being sure she stayed put.

“You can say that after the way this house looked when you came in here?”

“Get used to it.” Emily smiled.

“You mean, it’s always this hard?”

“Yep, but people keep having children.”

He looked at Amanda Sue, and the real wonder of parenthood finally hit him. It was simply that even knowing how hard it was, he’d do it all over again. He shook his head. “Do you suppose it’s biological?”

Emily seemed to know exactly what he was talking about. “I don’t know whether it’s biological, emotional, or something no one’s even thought of yet,” she said, “but I’ve seen it time after time, and I know this, too. It doesn’t always happen. I know people who shouldn’t have been parents, who shouldn’t be
allowed
to be parents. And then I know those who will never realize their full potential as parents for one reason or another. But you’re one of those meant to be a daddy. Don’t doubt that about yourself.”

He couldn’t speak for a moment. She’d hit the most vulnerable spot in his psyche. Finally he got control of himself. “I’ve been so afraid I’d be like my father,” he said, “but maybe there’s more of my mother in me than I realized.”

“Mama,” Amanda Sue said hopefully, sitting down her cup with a crack.

Logan jerked around. “Oh, darlin’, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.” He pulled her into his arms. “Mama isn’t here, honey. I wish she was for your sake, but she’s not. She would be if she could, but Mama can’t come, Amanda Sue, so Daddy is going to take care of you from now on. My poor angel. I love you, ’Manda mine.”

Amanda Sue laid her head on his shoulder and hugged him back calmly.

Logan felt triumphant that he was able to soothe his daughter, and when he looked once more at Emily, he knew it wasn’t wishful thinking—and he knew exactly who he had to thank for it. There were four remarkable females responsible for these changes in him. His mom was first, of course, because of her parenting and her trust in his inherent decency, and then there was Donna, who had given him the treasure that was Amanda Sue. Of course, Amanda Sue herself was the catalyst, the lynchpin, the very center of his suddenly centered universe. But it was Emily who carefully schooled and trained him.

Emily stood in the breach when instinct failed and changes overwhelmed him. Emily made him believe that he could be the father he wanted to be, the father Amanda Sue deserved. It was Emily who made him want things he’d never wanted before, made him value things he’d never even thought about before. Yes, if Amanda Sue was the center, then it was Emily who made it glow with hope and an inexplicable sort of satisfaction.

He was suddenly a little afraid, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to get her. That he wouldn’t be able to keep her around as long as he needed her. What, after all, did he know about keeping a woman around? All he’d ever known was walking
away. How often had he done that, without even a second thought? He’d walked away from Amanda Sue’s mother without even wondering if he might have made a baby with her. All these years he’d assumed that every woman who caught his eye would stay with the least encouragement from him, if not for him, then for the Fortune millions.

But he’d always known, on some level, that Emily was the exception. From the beginning she had responded to his flirtatious overtures with pithy put-downs and a capable, no-nonsense efficiency that had made her indispensable. He wondered if his pride hadn’t made him see her as mildly attractive rather than the astounding woman who now made his heart pound with longing. He wondered if he’d met his match in Emily Applegate.

Would she be the woman he couldn’t get? Or the woman he was meant to have?

E
mily couldn’t believe she was doing this. Whatever possessed her to agree to go swimming in the dead of winter or what passed for it in this part of Texas? More to the point, what had possessed her to agree to spend Sunday with Logan Fortune? Oh, the indoor pool in Logan’s complex was properly heated—along with the indoor tennis, racquetball, basketball and volleyball courts, not to mention the weight rooms, running track and, of course, the sauna—but that wasn’t the point. She should be keeping her distance from Logan, but she hadn’t even managed to stay away for the weekend.

Still, he had a point about not being able to work out with Amanda Sue around, and the little imp did love water. So here Emily sat, suited out in last summer’s bright yellow-gold, halter-top, V-neck, red-trimmed, one-piece bathing costume, wet to the skin, her hair dripping down her back, self-consciously trying not to notice how sexy Logan looked reclining next to her poolside in nothing more than boxer-style swim trunks. The man was built like a brick wall, firm, hard, and sturdy, but no brick wall had ever made her want to press herself against it in breathless anticipation. No brick wall had ever made her skin tingle and her heart pound by just brushing against her under water. Amanda Sue yanked on her hair, reminding Emily why she was here, and then launched herself over the arm of Emily’s chair at her father.

“Hey, sugarplum!” Logan caught her against his chest, smiling his welcome and tucking her towel around her wet romper to keep her warm. “Did Daddy’s girl enjoy her first
swim?” He glanced at Emily. “At least, I assume it was her first swim.”

“I think that’s a safe assumption,” Emily said, “at least as far as a real swimming pool goes. She might have splashed around in a kiddie pool before this, but she didn’t seem at all familiar with her surroundings when we first took her in.”

“Yeah, I noticed that. She seemed a little intimidated at first, almost afraid.”

“Well, she’s not afraid anymore,” Emily said, chuckling.

Logan tickled Amanda Sue’s tummy through her wet romper. She slapped her hands against the spot and giggled. “Not this girl,” Logan teased. “This girl’s part fish.” He made a fish face, sucking in his cheeks and puckering his mouth. Amanda Sue leaned forward and kissed him. Both Emily and he laughed. Amanda Sue looked around her to see what was so funny, then laughed with them.

“What a little doll!”

Emily looked up to find a leggy blonde in a white bikini smiling down at them, or rather, at Logan. She wasn’t the first of Logan’s neighbors to gush over Amanda Sue. The child was a virtual woman magnet, and when Amanda Sue and Daddy took center stage, Emily found herself relegated to the background. She resigned herself to another period of invisibility.

“Hi, Lorinda,” Logan said brightly. “This is my daughter, Amanda Sue.”

“My goodness, she’s a dream! Just look at that hair!”

“Yeah, she takes after her granny that way.”

“And she has your eyes.”

“That’s what they tell me.”

A petite brunette name Mercedes with ink-black hair and the classical features of her Mexican ancestors joined them, and the gushing began all over again.

“I didn’t know you had a daughter!”

“Yep, she’s sixteen months old.”

“What a beauty!”

“You’ll get no argument from me on that.”

“Oh, a proud papa,” Lorinda cooed. “How sweet.”

“Will she let me hold her?” Mercedes asked.

“Sure,” Logan said, only to have Amanda Sue flop over onto her belly and throw her arms around his neck, hiding her face in the hollow of his shoulder. Logan chuckled. “Make a liar out of your old man, will you?” He beamed up at the brunette. “Guess she’s having an attack of shyness.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” the blonde cooed, petting the back of Amanda Sue’s head.

The child made a sound of protest that sounded remarkably like the bleat of a sheep, shrugged Lorinda away and reached for Emily, who caught her up and pulled her onto her lap, whispering, “Amanda Sue? What’s wrong? You’re not shy. You’re not a shy girl.”

“Oh, you must be her mom,” Lorinda said, the words edged with ice despite the white smile that accompanied them. No one else had been brash enough to come right out and ask, but Emily had felt the weight of their speculation. She had hoped, for Amanda Sue’s sake, that everyone would remain quietly, politely curious. She should have known better.

With her attention focused on Amanda Sue, Emily tried not to tense. The child had gone perfectly still at the mention of her mother, her eyes searching steadily across the limits of her vision. Emily waited calmly for the usual heart-wrenching demand, but Amanda Sue seemed to know that it was pointless. She put her hand in her mouth and slumped back against Emily’s chest.

“Amanda Sue’s mother was killed recently in a plane crash,” Logan said quietly. Then he smiled and reached for Emily’s hand, saying, “Emily, here, is my good right arm, the Ace Number One Executive Assistant of all time—and then some.” He touched noses with Amanda Sue, his face close to Emily’s breast, and added, “Don’t know what we’d do without her, do we, ’Manda mine?”

He shook his head in emphasis, and Amanda Sue copied the movement, which was why, Emily felt sure, that she felt a spurt of delight. The women crowded around Logan, offering condolences and thinly veiled consolation. Emily felt her chest expand with a burning surge of jealousy. She thought for a moment that it might choke her, but then Logan threaded his fingers through hers and lifted their entwined hands onto the arm of her deck chair, and she felt a guilty flash of smug satisfaction.

Amanda Sue sat up just then and pointed at the pool, wheedling, “Whimmin, Daddy.”

“You ready to go swimming again, darlin’?” he asked, then glanced at Emily while the other women twittered about how cute it was that his daughter could ask for what she wanted. “What do you think?”

“Another fifteen minutes,” she said, ignoring those women, “then a nap.”

Amanda Sue shook her head. “Nap no!”

“Nap, yes,” Logan said, getting to his feet and hauling her up into his arms. “But swimmin’ first.”

“Whimmin,” she said, nodding emphatically. She held her hand out to Emily, opening and closing her fingers. “Mon, Mimy. Whimmin.”

The women laughed again, but they were moving away as Emily got to her feet. “Nice to meet you,” one of them said, and Emily realized belatedly that she was the one being addressed. She managed a smile and a nod as Logan grabbed her hand and towed her toward the shallow end of the pool, Amanda Sue on his hip.

Amanda Sue looked down and watched the water move up her father’s legs toward her as he descended the steps. When the water reached the tops of his legs, Logan sat down, and Emily sat down opposite him. In an already familiar game, Amanda Sue pushed away from her father and began paddling and kicking furiously in an upright position. She sank like a stone, and Emily shared with Logan a moment of silent panic, but just as he reached for her, Amanda
Sue propelled herself upward and broke the surface of the water again, grinning with delight. Logan reached, instead, for Emily’s hands. Stretching out their arms, they made a platform for her. Amanda Sue settled on top of their arms, then leaned over carefully onto her side, rolled onto her back and lay there, waiting for them to remove their support. She floated between them like a cork, still and solemn as she concentrated all her tiny being on staying afloat.

“I can’t believe she does this,” Logan said. “She’s as fearless as a water sprite. Scares me to death.”

Emily smiled sympathetically. “When they’re utterly intrepid like this, you can’t help wondering what they’ll attempt when you’re not around.”

“Exactly. What I have to wonder is if you ever learn to really let go of them?”

She laughed. “Obviously. Otherwise, you’d be at the ranch right now, and I’d be in Kentucky.”

“Oh, good argument for fostering independence.”

“I’d rather be here, too,” she quipped thoughtlessly.

The smile he gave her was warm enough to melt glass. Just then Amanda Sue put her feet down and sank again. She bounced off the bottom of the pool and reached for her father, blinking water out of her eyes and sputtering husky laughter.

“Whoa!” Logan caught her before she sank again and pulled her against his chest. “Had enough floating?”

“Woo ack!”

“Okay, you can swim on Daddy’s back.”

He swirled her around in the water by the hands and pulled her up onto his back, placing her arms around his neck. Amanda Sue held on that way while he moved slowly into deeper water. Emily moved behind them, helping Amanda Sue kick her legs from the hips, her hands around Amanda Sue’s knees. Logan headed back to shallower water, avoiding other swimmers. Growing bolder, Amanda Sue loosened her hold on him until she maintained contact only by gripping the hair on the top of his head.

By the time they reached the steps across the end of the pool, a number of older children had gathered there. Amanda Sue was clearly intrigued. Logan sat her on the second step, and the children welcomed her into their company. Within minutes a splashing contest had erupted, and Amanda Sue was in the thick of it, holding her own with flailing arms and legs while her protective daddy held her in place with both hands around her middle. When one little boy about four or five years of age popped up out of the water suddenly at her side, Amanda Sue shrieked with laughter. Soon they were all doing it, and even when the game grew old Amanda Sue continued to feign shocked delight. Finally, she’d had enough and reached for Emily.

One tiny hand caught in the V-neck of Emily’s well-worn suit and tugged, exposing the full mound of one breast almost to the nipple before Emily could pull her closer. Embarrassment scorched Emily from the chest upward. She sank down to sit on the bottom of the pool, Amanda Sue cradled to her chest while she hoped that no one had noticed. None of the children giggled; no one else hooted or snickered. Emily began to breathe a sigh of relief, only to look right up into Logan Fortune’s blue, blue eyes. Her heart stopped at the look of raw hunger on his face. For a long moment, his gaze held hers. Then he turned and plunged into a long gliding stroke that carried him quickly the length of the pool.

He was on his sixth lap when Amanda Sue grew restive. “Daddy, Daddy!” she called, but Emily doubted that he could hear her over the sounds of his own strokes. She began to whisper to the child about what a strong, powerful swimmer her daddy was, pointing out how his arms cleaved the water, head turning side to side, legs scissoring beneath the water. Amanda Sue studied him as if she actually understood all that Emily was saying, but every time he drew near the shallow corner where they sat, she called to him again. Finally, he stood and waded toward them, water sheeting off
his body and flattening the dark hair dusting his chest. He was breathing heavily, but he had a smile for his daughter.

“Time to go, sweetheart. Daddy’s ready for a nap.”

“Nap no,” Amanda Sue said, reaching for him. “Grink. Num-num.”

“Okay, drinks and yum-yums first,” he said, wading toward the steps, “then nap.”

Emily followed behind them, feeling oddly forgotten and superfluous. Logan carried his daughter into the open shower with him, then stripped away her sodden romper, diapered her and dressed her in the dry clothing he’d brought with them, while Emily rinsed off the chlorine all alone, wrapped a towel around her head and pulled her jeans on over her wet suit. He brought Amanda Sue to her so he could go into the locker room and change. He returned wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, his wet suit rolled into a towel. Emily had dried and fluffed Amanda Sue’s hair with a towel, then thrown on a terry-cloth jacket that belted at the waist. They stepped into shoes and headed out.

By the time they got back to the house, Emily’s teeth were chattering. Logan ordered her into the bedroom to get changed and dry her hair while he fixed Amanda Sue a snack. She found the hair-dryer right where he said it would be, but it was a low voltage, handheld comb-type, and by the time her long, thick hair was dry enough to endure, some considerable time had passed. She quickly stripped off her suit in his bathroom, then dragged on underwear, damp jeans and a big, roomy, moss-green sweater. When she opened the door and stepped out into the bedroom, Logan was there, waiting.

Suddenly her heart was pounding, her chest too tight to breathe. He leaned a hip against the corner of the dresser and folded his arms determinedly. She fought the urge to gulp and struggled to keep her tone light and casual. “Where’s Amanda Sue?”

“Sleeping.”

She nodded. “Sorry I took so long. It’s all this hair.” He
said nothing to that, so she busied herself stowing her wet suit and towel in the bag, making small talk to cover the electricity arcing through the air. “I knew she was exhausted, poor thing, but she really seemed to enjoy the pool. We probably shouldn’t have kept her in so long. I’m pretty tired myself, so I know you must be.” She gathered her things and moved toward the door, smiling lamely. He stepped in front of her. She looked up, both dismayed and thrilled to see the look on his face.

“Say my name,” he demanded huskily, taking the bag from her hands and tossing it away.

She blinked up at him. “What?”

“Say my name,” he repeated, holding her gaze with his. “You rarely call me by name.” His hand rose and hovered around her shoulder, brushing gently at her hair. “I want to hear it.” He cupped her face with his palm, urging, “Say my name.”

She didn’t know how to refuse. She closed her eyes and whispered, “Logan.”

“Again,” he insisted, sliding his hand around to the nape of her neck, threading his fingers through her hair. She knew what he wanted, and it was more than she could give him. She opened her eyes, intent on honesty and good sense.

“Logan, I—”

He kissed her, his hand bringing her face to meet his. Good sense retreated as sensation charged in, and she found herself kissing him back. His free hand covered her breast, the very breast that Amanda Sue had so innocently exposed, and Emily knew that she’d been waiting for it, needing it. When he pulled back and his hands fell to the bottom of her sweater, she knew she couldn’t allow him to do what he was doing, but somehow her arms rose as he pulled the sweater up. Then he was tossing it away.