First-Class Father by Douglas Charlotte

Author:Douglas, Charlotte [Douglas, Charlotte]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Suspense
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-11-25T17:36:41+00:00

“WAIT HERE WHILE I CHECK inside.” Dylan took the house key from Heather. Leaving her on the porch, he made a hurried sweep of her empty house and returned. “All clear. You can come in now.”

He stepped aside to allow her to pass, and gripped the door frame to keep from reaching for her. His longing to hold her burned like a thirst nothing could quench. A good night’s sleep, the result of his exhaustion, had sharpened his physical responses. Every nerve ending longed for reciprocal contact with her, whose body he knew by heart, like the well-read pages of a much-loved book.

Anger didn’t help. His resentment at her abandonment and deception and his disgust with himself over yesterday’s quarrel with Rand only fueled his tension. He should have put his foot down when she insisted on accompanying him this morning and saved himself this agony.

When he had arrived at his parents’ to pick up Heather’s reconstructed address list for Cramer, she had been adamant about going home to gather more clothes and toys for Chip. Since he had forced her to abandon her car, he had little choice but to yield to her demand.

He hoped Cramer would find her list of names and addresses helpful. The sooner the kidnapper was caught, the sooner Dylan’s misery would end. The numb emptiness of life without Heather had been easier to bear than the torture of self-imposed restraint in her presence.

Rousing himself from his thoughts, he found her watching him, her green eyes guarded. He hastily closed and locked the door from the inside. “Will this take long?”

“I’m going to make coffee. Your mother had only decaf this morning, and I need the caffeine to stave off a headache.”

He suppressed a groan of desire. Coffee wasn’t what he wanted. “Forget the coffee. We promised Cramer your list early today.”

“It won’t take long. While it brews, we can discuss the list you asked me to make.”

He didn’t want to discuss anything. He wanted to scoop her in his arms, carry her down the hall to her poster bed, as he’d done only once before but hundreds of times in his dreams, and make love to her until they were both too weak to move.

“The sooner you catch this guy,” she said, “the sooner Chip and I will be out of your hair.”

Had he lost his mind? He didn’t want them out of his hair. He wanted to spend all his days with Heather and his son. Except for one small but insurmountable problem. If he disappeared instantly in a puff of smoke, it wouldn’t be too soon for Heather.

He trailed behind her into the kitchen and sat at the table. “Who are your suspects?”

“It isn’t a long list.” She removed a paper from her pocket, handed it to him and, with characteristic efficiency, started coffee brewing.

He unfolded the legal-size sheet, and his eyes bulged. “Fourteen!”

“I did what you asked.” She leaned against the counter, arms folded, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

He had nibbled those lips many times, and the memory of the taste of her blossomed in his mouth.

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