Falling for the Heiress by Christine Flynn

Author:Christine Flynn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Silhouette
Published: 2007-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

Tess couldn’t sleep.

Mikey, however, was dead to the world.

If he had been traumatized by his introduction to the dangers that could threaten their lives, he hadn’t acted it. She’d explained what she felt her three-year-old might comprehend without giving him nightmares of bogeymen and assured him that she would always do everything possible to make sure he was safe, but when she’d asked if he had any questions, he’d wanted only to know if Mr. Parker was mad at him.

She had no idea how Parker felt about anything at the moment. She did not, however, want her son worrying, so she’d told him she was sure everything would be fine, and he’d turned his attention to picking out the story he wanted her to read.

He’d fallen asleep shortly after that.

That had been well over an hour ago, but she had yet to find anything to calm her own restless mind. Reading proved impossible: she couldn’t seem to concentrate. Watching television with earphones proved futile; not a single program caught her interest. An attempt at yoga occupied a few minutes, but she totally lacked the mental discipline that evening to achieve anything remotely resembling inner peace, much less balance or harmony. She would barely start to focus on her breathing before her mind would wander to what she’d seen in Parker’s expression as his glance moved over her body—and to what she’d felt when his eyes had met hers.

No man had ever made her feel such heat with just a look. What had left her so shaken, though, was how she’d been drawn by the hunger she’d seen in him.

That undeniable circumstance had her questioning her judgment on a number of levels in the moments before she unfolded herself from her position on the floor, checked her soundly sleeping son and, pulling on her short pink robe, headed down the stairs in search of anything chocolate. Chocolate ice cream had been on the grocery list Parker had filled in Camelot the other day. She would start with that.

Or so she was thinking as she stuck a spoon into a pint of Häagen-Dazs and turned from the freezer to face the man who’d driven her to eating straight from the carton.

Parker stood at the far end of the kitchen. He still wore the faded blue U.S. Marines T-shirt and light gray sweatpants he’d changed into after his run. The tense set to his jaw hadn’t changed since she’d last seen him, either.

“I heard noise,” he said, his eyes steady on hers. “I just wanted to check it out.”

Now that he knew who was there, Parker turned to go back to staring at the talking head on CNN.

His conscience allowed him only one step before he took a deep breath and turned right back.

He owed her an apology. Not for bursting into her room; he would react exactly the same way were the situation to present itself again. When a client’s night pager went off, he always assumed the worst until he knew otherwise.

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