SINGLE FATHER SEEKS... Read online

  He put the phone to his ear. "She's not leaving, so whoever this is, forget it."

  "This is Katherine Davenport and Ciara feels the need to leave and was calling for a replacement."

  "I don't need one and we have a contract."

  Katherine's voice sharpened. "You have one with my company, Mr. Ashland, not with my employee."

  Bryce felt cornered. "She's not leaving." He shut off the phone and tossed it on the bed.

  Ciara contained her temper for all of two seconds, then with a low growl, she planted her hands on his chest and shoved. "How dare you! That was my private call. It was none of your business!" She advanced until she was in his face, full of fury.

  "It is, if it concerns my daughter."

  "Liar! This has nothing to do with Carolina." She jabbed a finger at his chest. "This is you invading my privacy. Dammit, Bryce. I thought I could at least trust you this far."

  "Trust? You have more secrets than the U.S. government."

  Bryce gazed down at her, accepting the full brunt of her fury.

  "I'm outta here," Ciara snapped.

  Before she could move, he grabbed her up against him, his mouth descending on her with the muttered words, "The hell you are."

  * * *

  Chapter 4

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  Any retort Ciara had was cut off, blunted by his mouth crushing over hers. He put everything he had into the kiss, using the strength of his desire and her weakness for him. And it worked.

  She came unglued, slapping her arms around his neck, driving her fingers into his hair.

  Damn.

  It was the same.

  Only stronger. Harder.

  Passion erupted between them in a powerful wave and Ciara was helpless as it swept over her, shutting everything else out and filling the loneliness that had been her only company for so many years. She surrendered to it. Her hands roamed over his chest, her fingers flipping open his shirt buttons, then diving inside. He moaned at her first touch, trembled as her fingers met flesh.

  His kiss grew harder, devouring, and when he pushed his hand under her shirt and discovered she was naked, he thought his knees would cave.

  "Oh Ciara," he groaned softly as he filled his palms with her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples and she thrust into him, almost climbing up his body.

  Bryce lifted her and her legs wrapped his hips. He shoved her top up and took her nipple deep inside his mouth. She cried out softly, throwing her head back, holding him there as he laved and nipped, suckled harder until she thought her insides would shatter.

  "Sweet mercy Bryce, it's the same," she whispered.

  "No, no," he managed over his rough breathing. "Better." He staggered back, then sank to the floor, not giving her a moment to think, only to feel, his mouth on her skin, his hands molding over her body.

  Straddling his thighs, she kissed him with a ferocity that left him moaning, his hands rushing over her as if to touch every inch in one sweep, then try again. She was no less busy, shoving his jacket off, peeling open his shirt, stroking down between his legs and shaping his arousal. He made a dark hungry sound, like the rumbling of a storm, and gripped her hips, thrusting against her in the dance they'd once shared.

  Ciara gasped and answered him with a hard push, wanting to feel him inside her. His mouth was on her breast again, his fingertips diving below the waistband of her slacks, then sweeping around to the zipper. He sent it down and pushed beneath the fabric, her panties, fingers sliding lower, seeking her wet warmth, and the instant his touch neared her center, she knew she couldn't do this.

  She stilled and he immediately noticed it. He lifted his head and knew this would go no further.

  "I can't do this."

  "You were doing right nicely a second ago."

  She pushed off his lap and righted her clothing as she said, "This was why I was leaving. I can't live here and do this with you." She stood.

  "You want me."

  She choked off a short laugh. "I don't think there is any doubt."

  "I want you like mad."

  She looked at him. The tender smile she sent him was so unrestricted, so free, his heart skipped and crashed in his chest. He wanted to see that look all the time.

  "I know. But…"

  "But what?" he said as he stood.

  "I can't look at you in the morning and know that we have only this between us."

  He rubbed his face, still breathing hard. She was right. He didn't like that he wanted more. He didn't like that he wanted more so badly.

  Her voice came soft, and almost distant as she said, "We used each other that night in Hong Kong, Bryce. We both knew it. That's why I said no names and you agreed. If I'd wanted more—"

  "I know," he interrupted, meeting her gaze. "You would have looked me up. But did you ever think of what I wanted then?" He'd torn up the city looking for her the next day.

  "No, I couldn't. I still can't."

  "Why?" What the hell was she hiding?

  "I have my reasons. And you already made it clear that you're not looking for a wife, so that leaves easy companionship. Well, no dice. Sleeping with you while I'm your daughter's nanny just makes me feel cheap."

  "Don't say things like that."

  "Well, that's how I see it. We used each other five years ago. And that was fine with me. Then. Not now." Not when I know your name, not when I see you like a man and not a fantasy, she thought, swallowing hard. "I'll be gone in the morning." She turned to the closet and pulled out her suitcases.

  "What about Carolina?"

  "She's a good baby. She'll take to anyone." Ciara opened dresser drawers, walking woodenly to and from the suitcase. "Wife Incorporated will send someone to replace me."

  Bryce stood there, still reeling from their kiss and she was like this cool efficient machine. Cutting him out before she split.

  Without a doubt in his mind he knew if she left, he'd never see her again.

  She'd gotten to him. Five years ago and five seconds ago. And he knew he was about to make a fool of himself for a woman who didn't want him.

  "Well, there is a problem," he said, yet she kept packing. "Just anyone won't do and the last nanny neglected Carolina."

  Ciara turned from where she was tossing her things into a suitcase. "What do you mean?"

  "I came home unexpectedly and Carolina was in her playpen, crying, wet, dirty and hungry. And from the look of it, she'd been that way for hours. God knows what else the woman did to her."

  Instant fury filled Ciara, the mere thought of anyone neglecting a child making her see red. "Did she have marks on her?" Her voice snapped with anger.

  "No, thank God."

  "Did you bring charges?"

  "With what evidence? Yes, I fired her, called the agency and tried new ones. But Carolina screamed her head off any time a stranger came close to her."

  Ciara's brows knitted and she thought of the little baby sleeping down the hall, of anyone scaring her. "But she didn't with me?"

  "My point exactly."

  "Oh, that's unfair, Bryce."

  He knew that. And inside, he refused to admit that he wanted Ciara to stay for more than because his daughter was comfortable with her.

  "You can find someone else," she said and turned her back on him. She couldn't stay. She'd already sunk too deep and though she had no idea where she'd go, where she'd hide 'til Faraday was caught, she knew she couldn't take being near Bryce when she wanted him so badly.

  "I don't have time," Bryce said. "I've got negotiations for a deal that will set my company for life, not to mention the mountain of paperwork piling up at the office. I can't work and search for a new nanny at the same time. And I don't want to be forced to take the next nanny that applies. Not after last time."

  Ciara's shoulders sank. He was wearing her down and she realized her survival skills were useless around Bryce Ashland.

  "Look Ciara, if you can stand being near me, stay for Carolina's sake."

  Ciara forced
herself to fold and lay her clothes into the case. "Cheap shot."

  "I'm desperate." Bryce felt as if he was losing a battle he wasn't sure he wanted to win.

  She faced him, her gaze clashing with his.

  Damn, Bryce thought. He hated that frosty stare. And it hurt to see it aimed at him. It was as if Ciara could take her heart out and put it on a shelf 'til she needed it.

  "Okay, I'll stay."

  Shock and relief swept through him and made his shoulders droop.

  "But under one condition."

  Figures, he thought. "What?"

  "No touching me." She was just too vulnerable when it came to him.

  "Agreed."

  She eyed him suspiciously, in a way that made him see the woman in Hong Kong who'd easily left him on the hotel room floor.

  "Okay, we have a deal—"

  Suddenly Carolina cried out, and without a glance, Ciara left the room, racing to his child.

  She might put her heart on a shelf where he was concerned, but with this baby, she wore it on her sleeve. He glanced at her suitcase, then left the bedroom, wondering why he just didn't leave it alone. It wasn't bad enough that he'd destroyed Diana's life, what would he do to Ciara's if given the chance?

  A chance she wasn't allowing. Probably a good thing, he thought. One night years ago left a mark on them and although it fed memory and desire, there wasn't anything there for a future. Not that he wanted one. And she sure as hell had made it clear she didn't.

  Great sex just wasn't enough anymore.

  At least, not for him.

  * * *

  Three days later, in the darkened house, Ciara slipped out the French doors and walked quickly to the gazebo. Sitting down on the curved bench, she instantly opened the small laptop, stretched her fingers and started typing. A familiar excitement raced through her as she watched the screen, routing her phone line through a hotel in Switzerland, an airport in Australia, one in Tokyo and a half dozen other places before ending at her unit at the CIA. The Intel computer phone rang and Ciara, opting for the headset instead of the phone, put it on just as it rang on her senior supervisor's desk. He was the only person she could trust.

  "Patterson."

  "Indigo Alpha, 4-0-8," Ciara said and heard the appropriate clicks that scrambled the line.

  "How you doing, kid?"

  Only her boss would call a thirty-year-old agent a kid. "Fine. Any light in the tunnel?"

  "No, lay low. He's still free. It's going to take some time. I'll contact you."

  Her first instinct was that he was in on it with Faraday and trying to get a location out of her. Just to be sure, she covered her bases. "You can't. I'm as deep under as it gets," she said with a glance at the plush yard and grand house.

  She was trained mostly in surveillance, and sure as hell knew more about satellite positioning, weapons, terrorist factions and Intel, than she did about keeping house and chasing after a baby. And avoiding contact with Bryce. He'd been good about keeping his promise of not touching her. In fact, he'd taken it so far as to not look at her most of the time. Their relationship was strictly professional. He'd turned into a complete workaholic and for the past three days she'd left his dinner in the microwave with a note. And other than seeing him briefly in the morning before he left for the office, they'd had little contact. And she silently admitted she missed him. No matter how much she didn't want to.

  "You there?"

  She blinked and shook her thoughts loose of Bryce. "I sent you a souvenir."

  "Oh yeah? Is it socks? I need socks."

  She smiled to herself, glad that the carefully worded letter was on its way to him while at the same time the videotape of Mark Faraday betraying his country and colleagues was out of her hands and now meandering across the country through varied post offices to a neutral party. That way, all bases were covered—if the tape didn't come out, the neutral party would go looking for it. "Better than argyles," she said. "I'll check in later. It's not going to hurt my career to miss a few days of work, right boss?"

  His chuckle was computerized as it came through the headset, but in her mind she replaced it with the rich baritone she knew well.

  "Getting antsy already. Figures."

  "I'm outta here," she said, then cut the line in Australia first. She couldn't leave a trail to this house, these people. She was the one who took the risks for her country, not them. Closing up, and pushing the small thin computer into her case, she zipped it closed, then headed back to the house. She quietly opened the doors and slipped inside, moving quickly through the house to the staircase.

  She froze when a shadow rose in front of her and instinctively she reached for the weapon that wasn't there.

  "So Ciara," Bryce said, folding his arms over his chest. "Are you going to tell me why you were out in the backyard at midnight?" He flicked on the hall light and his gaze dropped to the case in her hand. "With that?"

  Ciara's spine stiffened.

  Bryce's first thought was that she was just out for a stroll. Then he saw the bulge in the case that could only be a phone.

  And his next thought was she was calling a man. And jealousy tore through him. Especially when he noticed how she was dressed.

  Or rather not dressed.

  The short nightgown and thin robe left little to his imagination. And where she was concerned, his imagination had the speed of sonic flight. And the sexy deep burgundy satin molding her body sent his own desires into overdrive. He grew hard, instantly. He imagined her with another man, any man, giving him all that lush passion Bryce had known so long ago, and something tightened around Bryce's chest like a vise.

  Then the talk he'd had with himself earlier kicked in and he tried smothering his runaway passion. Suddenly he resented the hell out of the things Ciara did to him. Making him think of more, making him want more than he wanted to consider, even in a private fantasy. One look at her and he thought of being inside her, feeling her arch against him and of the satisfaction he'd felt with her, and only her. And in a small secret part of his mind, a place even he dared not go too often, he realized that not even his wife had made him feel that way.

  Wild sex with a stranger had.

  What did that say about his ability to choose a mate? And was he fantasizing about that because that's all they'd had? Mentally he shook himself free of those thoughts.

  "Well," he finally said. "What is that?"

  "My computer."

  It was incredibly small, he thought and he didn't think he'd ever seen one so thin. And then there was the phone. "What are you doing with it outside?"

  "Using it."

  Damn her evasiveness. "For what?"

  "I don't think that's any of your business."

  She started past him, but he latched onto her arm.

  "Let go."

  He didn't. "You were outside in the pitch black, using a computer? With a phone?"

  "Yes. And the phone is for Internet links." She searched his gaze. "What's your problem?"

  "Believing you."

  Ciara sighed hard and knew this would only bring an argument she didn't want or need. She pulled free and faced him. "It's a lovely night, the screen is lit enough that I can see it and I wanted to be outside."

  Bryce's gaze thinned. He still didn't believe her. But he'd be damned if he'd admit he was jealous.

  "What are you doing up? Spying on me?"

  "No, I couldn't sleep." Because you're three doors down the hall, he thought.

  "Then go to work. Maybe it will give you some free time with Carolina later."

  He scowled, resentment riding his spine. "Don't change the subject. My daughter has nothing to do with you lurking outside at midnight."

  "I don't lurk. Do you want to see the computer, look at its history?" She held out the computer, glad that she routinely cleared the log-in history.

  Bryce's gaze shifted to the case, then to her. It was a challenge. Then again everything with her felt like a challenge. And why was he acting like a jea
lous lover when he didn't want a relationship with her, with any woman? He'd no right to question what she did on her off time. "No."

  Ciara let her arm drop to her side. "Good, because Carolina is the only reason I'm in this house, Bryce."

  Although the dig stung, he suddenly smiled.

  She frowned. "What?"

  "You're a sucker for babies, aren't you?"

  Her lips curved and she shook her head, laughing to herself. Grateful for the change of subject, she said, "Yeah, who'd have thought, huh?"

  His suspicions fading, he said softly, "Not me."

  Ciara felt his gaze slide up and down her body, making her feel half-clothed. She sent him a warning look.

  He ignored it. "I know Carolina misses me, and I'd love to stay home all day, but I can't. I've almost closed this deal. When I do, then there will be time."

  Then I'll be gone, she thought, and the knowledge bit through her heart. She'd be here only until Mark was caught and it was safe to come out of hiding. What had she gotten herself into here? She was nuts about a little baby girl and more than a little crazy about the baby's daddy. Heck, maybe she was just plain crazy, because this was more involvement than she ever intended.

  "How about some wine? Will that help you sleep?"

  Boy, she shifted like the wind. "Sure."

  She set the computer case by the stairs and turned back into the kitchen. Each step made her suddenly aware of how she was dressed. Ah, well, he's seen me in less, she thought, then crushed back the thought as she went to the cabinet and retrieved a wine bottle. He stopped beside her, taking it and using the corkscrew to open it. She got out the glasses, setting them on the counter and covertly watching him. In drawstring pajama slacks and a robe, he looked so sexy. The robe was paisley gray, open and showing the smooth lean muscle of his chest and stomach. Washboards, she thought and wondered when he had the time to stay in shape like that.

  And her fingers started to itch.

  Like they had when she'd seen him in Hong Kong, across the banquet room in that black suit, his gaze constantly scanning the crowd for the unknown assailant ready to attack the former first lady.