SINGLE FATHER SEEKS... Page 7

  And made her suspect that Bryce was still mourning his late wife.

  But then, Ciara had family she hadn't seen in years, so who was she to criticize?

  Suddenly, Hope plopped down beside her and smiled brightly. "So, how's life with my big brother?" she asked cheerily.

  Ciara had wondered when they were going to get around to the personal stuff. They'd been polite and friendly, but she could tell the women were itching to ask about Bryce. "Interesting."

  Hope smiled knowingly. "Yeah, I'll just bet. I did notice he's been at work a lot lately. Some late hours."

  "He's catching up on overdue work, I imagine." And avoiding me.

  "Baloney," Portia said from the pool, her infant son propped on her hip. "He's hiding from life. He can afford to have some shorter days."

  "Yeah, he never goes out, rarely shows up at family outings unless I holler real loud," Hope said. "I think that's why mom and dad moved to Florida. They got tired of his refusals."

  "He did lose his wife." Why was Ciara defending him? From what she'd learned, he'd been a hermit and had kept his daughter secluded with him.

  "I know. But he wasn't much different before Diana came into the picture. He took the Secret Service stuff way too seriously."

  "It's a serious job." What would they think of hers?

  "I still think he resents that he had to leave it."

  "Had to?" Ciara said and tried not to sound too surprised.

  "Diana wanted him home more."

  "He must have loved her a lot to give up the Secret Service."

  The other women exchanged an odd look.

  "Or not," Katey muttered half under her breath.

  Ciara smoothed the baby's hair. Curiosity was killing her, but she wasn't going to pry. She didn't have to.

  Hope said, "Diana and Bryce knew each other briefly, as in one night."

  So did I, Ciara thought, yet he married Diana. Not liking the train of her thoughts or wanting to hear any more about Bryce and his late wife, Ciara rose. "I need to feed Carolina. How about I make some lunch for all of us?"

  The other women exchanged a sly look she didn't see.

  "We brought lunch." Hope pointed to the thermal coolers they'd dragged in with the eager children. "We were going to have it at the park. Though this is way better."

  "Yeah, swimming will tucker them out and maybe give me some fun time alone with that man I married," Katey said, wiggling her brows as she climbed out of the pool. She fetched the coolers, while Portia, with her son in her arms, grabbed a diaper bag and tossed it on the table. Ciara watched her maneuver on the most amazing instinct; shoving her hand into the diaper bag and coming back with a diaper, wipes and a bottle. With the fussing child against her shoulder, Portia managed to open a drink for her older son, lay out his lunch, wipe his mouth, feed her infant son and change him, all the while chatting easily with everyone.

  Amazing.

  Ciara put Carolina in the playpen so she could prepare her lunch. When she came back with Carolina's high chair, she noticed the others staring at her.

  "What? Is my butt hanging out of my suit?" she said, snapping the elastic lower over her behind.

  Then she noticed they were staring past her.

  On instinct, Ciara brought the high chair up in front of her in a defensive move as she spun about. The legs of the chair hit a solid wall of man and sent him stumbling sideways toward the pool.

  Ciara watched in horror as Bryce, in a tailored business suit, flailed wildly to keep from falling in the water.

  * * *

  Chapter 6

  « ^ »

  Ciara instantly dropped the high chair and reached for him.

  With a helpless, wide-eyed look, he caught her hand, and fought for balance … and lost. The force of his weight and the simple tug of gravity sent them both into the pool.

  Under the shallow water, Ciara fell hard against him, and Bryce wrapped his arms around her and rolled to protect her from the hard cement floor of the pool. He could hear her shriek under water and she gained her footing first, pulling him by the lapels, and pushing to the surface.

  When they broke through they were gasping for air and she still had a hold of his jacket.

  "You okay?" Ciara asked above everyone else's amused laughter.

  "A little damp," he said calmly, feeling as if it had been weeks since he'd been this close to her.

  "Good." She let go of his lapels with enough force to send him stumbling backward. "Serves you right for sneaking up on me."

  "I didn't sneak. I was just standing there," he said to her back as she waded toward the stairs. His gaze fell on her round behind, then traveled upward. Not another woman on this planet could do justice to that low-cut one-piece, he thought. It gave him visions of what she looked like without it.

  Ciara could feel his gaze on her, burning her and she tried to ignore it, looking at Carolina. The dark-haired baby was holding on to the rim of the playpen and bouncing up and down. Then Ciara saw Hope, Portia and Katey, each with a big smile. She sent them all a sour look and climbed out of the pool.

  Bryce pulled off his shoes and tossed them on the cement deck, then followed Ciara.

  "Hi sis," he said to Hope as he stood dripping on the pool tiles.

  She grinned. "Nice entrance."

  "You should have warned her I was there."

  "How were we to know she'd turn on you like that?" Hope said, still smiling.

  "Yeah, Bryce, just what did you do to make her so defensive?" Portia asked, glancing at Ciara.

  "Nothing," she answered for him, throwing a towel at him.

  Bryce dragged the terry cloth off his head and frowned, wondering what she was so hot about. He was the one who had just ruined an expensive suit and now looked like a fool in front of four women.

  "Shouldn't you be at work? Hauling nets, selling mackerel," Ciara said, wrapping a towel around herself, then picking up the high chair. She opened it under the shade, then sent him a tight look before she headed back to the house for Carolina's lunch.

  Hope scowled at her brother. "She's steamed at something."

  "I don't think she likes surprises." Bryce sloshed to his daughter and lifted her in his arms. Carolina shivered at the cold contact of wet clothes, but Bryce was rewarded with a sloppy kiss and a hug. He settled her in the high chair, then strapped her in.

  From inside the house, Ciara watched Bryce. His suit was ruined and she blamed herself. Then she blamed him for startling her. It was instinct to defend and too late she remembered she didn't have to around here. Resting her elbows on the kitchen counter, she cupped her face in her hands and let out a long breath. The man unnerved her. She wouldn't admit that aloud to a living soul, but he did. Just looking at him made her realize what she was missing in her life. The long hours of surveillance, the meals out of a bag and the bottles of antacid to cure the aftereffect. She lifted her head, watching him chat with his sister, hold her children and then talk with the other women. Something touched Ciara deeply when the women defended her, offering friendship to a stranger just because she was caring for Carolina.

  His child.

  Ciara's throat tightened, and the longing in her swelled. She forced it down, angry with herself for letting it surface. She remembered her job, her career, the years she'd spent climbing the corporate ladder to get where she was today in the CIA. Her job was a thrill ride of danger and intrigue, of solving crimes that affected millions. It was honorable. A duty to her country.

  The familiar prickle of excitement coursed through her and she thought of returning to what she did best, of wearing a weapon and giving orders and catching the bad guys. It wasn't gone, she thought, that need, and she decided if she could just keep Bryce out of her mind, she'd be fine.

  Then what, a voice asked, about your heart?

  Boy, she thought, picking up the baby's lunch plate. She really needed to get back to her real job. Soon.

  Bryce looked up as she walked outside and moved to his dau
ghter.

  "Here, be a dad." She handed him the plate of baby food.

  He gave it back. "I have to change and get back to the office."

  "Why did you even come by then?"

  "I intended to join my daughter for lunch and didn't expect to go headfirst into the water."

  "Your fault, Ashland, not mine."

  "You're deadly with a high chair."

  Ciara almost smiled. Almost. "Say goodbye to daddy, sweetie," Ciara said to Carolina, pulling a chair beneath her.

  She started feeding the baby.

  His sister frowned at him, yet her friends just smiled.

  Bryce felt like an outsider.

  Carolina squawked and held up some food for him. Bryce bent low and ate it off her fingers.

  A chorus of disgusted "ews" followed, but Bryce didn't care. He smacked his lips for Carolina and she grinned, showing the white of two new teeth about to break the skin.

  "Don't believe a word my sister says," he whispered to Ciara.

  "What makes you think we talked about you?"

  "I know her, I lived with her. She's naturally nosy."

  "Any other instructions?"

  Bryce felt the chill in her words. "Yeah, loosen up or I'll kiss you right now."

  Ciara's eyes flared. "Don't threaten me, Bryce."

  "It wasn't a threat." He eyed her. Suddenly she smiled, but it was staged, too brittle, as if to prove to him that she'd do anything to keep what they shared suppressed.

  It was like a sharp knife to his side.

  He kissed his daughter goodbye, then straightened. Bryce tore his gaze away from Ciara's, then looked at his sister.

  Portia and Katey made no bones about their curiosity, but Hope simply stared him down.

  "Nice to see you ladies. Have fun."

  "We will. More than you will, I guess."

  "Don't track water into the house Bryce," Ciara called out. "The maid cleaned today."

  "Yes, ma'am," he said and tossed her a smile that hit her like a strike of blinding light. Ciara returned it, her mental orders not to give an inch flying right out the window.

  Hope grabbed Bryce's hand as he passed and he met her gaze. "What's going on between you two?" she asked.

  "Nothing, like she said."

  "Liar. You can cut the tension with a hacksaw."

  "Butt out, little sister."

  She arched a brow, like she did when they were kids and she imagined herself older and more learned than he was.

  "Don't stir up trouble."

  "Looks to me like it's already brewing. She's a nice woman, Bryce, and if you chose to come out of this self-imposed seclusion with her, be careful."

  "Warning me off?"

  "Of course not. But you've felt the need to carry the burden of Diana's death to the extreme, like you caused it."

  "I did."

  Hope shook her head sadly, moving farther away from the group. "Did you forget that I knew Diana? That she wanted to be introduced to you. Did you know that after your one and only date she talked about the two of you like your whole future was planned?"

  His features yanked taut and his voice lowered. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

  She reared back. "Like you'd have listened? She wanted what I had, what Portia and Katey do. A nice home, and a family. I don't think she cared who provided that for her or which order it came in. Good grief, Bryce, why do you think I didn't introduce her to you when I'd known her longer than you were even married?"

  His brows knitted and he thought for a second. "I just thought you didn't want a friend of yours dating me."

  "You didn't date, remember? She showed up and you went to bed."

  He felt the color rise up from his neck. But the truth of it was that she was right. He hadn't been interested in anything but sleeping with Diana. Maybe that's why he'd felt so rotten later. Diana had been a friend of his sister's and that put some pressure on him.

  "It doesn't matter, Hope. I married her. She was carrying my child."

  "I know, I know." She walked with him toward the back door. "But you didn't cause her death. The problem was hers, her body, not yours."

  He opened his mouth to speak, then snapped it shut. He knew that, he wasn't a complete idiot where his late wife was concerned, but he went to bed with Diana with the intention of saying goodbye in the morning and ending it there. It was heartless, but the truth. If he hadn't taken her to bed, she wouldn't have gotten pregnant and gestational diabetes and toxemia wouldn't have killed her. If she'd planned to trap him into marriage, she'd done a fine job and paid a higher price than he ever could. But all that didn't change a thing. Because in the end, when she was dying, she'd hated him, not so much for ruining her life, but for never loving her.

  "You aren't going to listen, are you? I can tell by that look on your face," his sister said.

  "Oh, I heard, and I know if Diana had lived, we would have been divorced about now."

  Hope eyed him. "I hear a very unpleasant 'but' coming in that."

  He offered her a small smile. "I don't want to fall into that kind of mess again."

  "Boy, are you a downer on marriage and life in general."

  He chuckled to himself.

  "I'm almost glad you haven't been around. I'd hate to have Chris hear that."

  "Ahh, darlin', nothing could destroy the incurable infatuation your husband has for you." Bryce leaned and pressed a kiss to Hope's forehead.

  She gripped his arms and whispered fiercely, "We've missed you, Bryce. What will destroy this black cloud hanging over your heart?"

  Before he pulled back, before he thought about it, he opened his eyes. His gaze collided with Ciara's across the pool yard.

  Her, his heart screamed. Her.

  * * *

  After Bryce had left for work and the baby was down for her midmorning nap, Ciara had used the satellite phone and computer to contact her boss. She'd come very close to not calling him at all, not wanting to know if Mark Faraday was caught and behind bars. That fact told her she was getting too comfortable. She'd called immediately and was not all that pleased that Mark had been located and the CIA was setting up a sting operation to catch him passing information. Ciara volunteered to be the bait, but her boss felt that Mark was already wise to her involvement and would flee the instant he saw her. Especially since she was the only one who knew the details of his betrayal.

  More than I care to, she thought, sipping tea while sitting on the living room floor. She watched as Carolina ignored the scattered toys and was content to walk back and forth in front of the sofa, holding on to the seat cushions. Smiling at the little girl's efforts Ciara leaned back against a stuffed chair and enjoyed the late afternoon.

  She was tired and admitted that it was a different kind of exhaustion. A happy one. She wasn't groping for the bed at night, or drinking gallons of coffee to stay awake during an operation, but just a "satisfied, put in a full day" tired. She attributed that to her new friends and the constant activity since she'd met them a few days ago. Keeping up with Hope, Portia and Katey was a full-time job. They each might have had a career before the children, but the change in lifestyle hadn't stopped them from getting the most out of each day now. Bryce had been right about his sister, she was nosey. Not rude, but pushy enough that it took a few times of changing the subject to make the three women understand Ciara wasn't giving any information. Besides, she thought, keeping secret that she had known Bryce before was more than just wanting privacy. It was preserving a moment in time.

  Especially when she hadn't seen him much in the past couple days. Since the day he'd fallen into the pool, he'd been working long hours and stumbling in late, barely getting a chance to see his child. When he could stand being in a room with Ciara, he questioned her about his daughter, said good-night to his baby, and often skipped dinner to go to his room.

  She didn't think he slept much, though. Often she heard him prowling the house and the temptation to go to him nearly overpowered her enough that she
felt that strapping herself to her bed would be the only way she wouldn't. She shook her head, wondering if she was just being jittery. He made her feel so vulnerable that avoiding each other was just fine.

  No, she thought, it's not. Not for Carolina.

  She missed her daddy, cried for him and Ciara felt lousy that the conflict between her and Bryce kept him from his baby.

  Her gaze slid to the windows, her brows drawing tight when she heard the sound of a car engine. Setting her cup on the coffee table she walked on her knees to Carolina, wiping the baby's chin and wondering when those teeth were going to cut through. Carolina ignored her ministration, shifting down the length of the couch, and when Ciara scooted back, the baby turned toward her. She was several feet away, her hand reaching out to her.

  Ciara started to go to her, then stopped. Carolina held on to the sofa cushion with one hand.

  She's going to walk, Ciara thought.

  The front door opened. "Ciara," Bryce called.

  "In the living room," she said, trying to keep from startling Carolina.

  He came into view and she whispered, "Get the video camera. I think she's going to take a step."

  Instantly, Bryce set down his briefcase.

  "It's in the hall closet by the stroller," Ciara said, and watched the uncertainty skate across the baby's face. "Hurry."

  "I am. I am." Bryce went to the closet, retrieved the camera and loaded it. He came down on his knees, focusing.

  "Switch places with me," Ciara said.

  "What?"

  "Let me shoot." She reached for the camera. "You hold your arms out to Carolina."

  He gave her the camera, then knelt down in front of his daughter. "Hey, princess," he said. "What are you doing?"

  He was rewarded with a jumble of baby talk and a very distinct da-da.

  "Oh Bryce, look at that smile."

  Carolina let go of the sofa, cooing at her daddy, her arms out for balance as she trotted her first hurried steps toward him.

  "That's it honey, come on." She took two more steps, then tumbled into his arms. Bryce grabbed her up and howled with laughter. "Did you see her? She's a pro already!"