Daddy's Double Duty (8 page)

He shook his head. “Grandmother has never been a snob. Strict, yes, but not a snob. And she made sure the rest of us weren't, either.”

“I know. But I always felt a little out of place in your home, Conall.” She laughed softly and gestured to the small room they were standing in. It was neat and clean, but the wooden cabinets were more than fifty years old and the porcelain sink chipped and stained. The ceiling was so low that Conall had to duck in order to keep from hitting his head on the light fixture and though the appliances were still chugging along, they'd seen better days. “This isn't quite the same as the kitchen in the Diamond D.”

“No,” he admitted. “But it's very homey and inviting. And it's yours. That should make you proud.”

His comments made her feel warm and good. “It does,” she agreed, then motioned to the bassinet sitting near a double window. “I know the babies can't see yet, but I put them by the window just in case they can pick up the movement of lights and shadows. But I think they notice music more than anything. Whenever I sing to them they usually fall right to sleep. To end the torture, I guess.”

Chuckling, Conall crossed the small room and bent over the sleeping babies. “They've grown,” he said
just above a whisper. “And their skin doesn't look as ruddy.”

“They're losing that just-born look,” she told him.

He said, “Before you know it they'll be rolling, then crawling and walking. It seems incredible that they start out so tiny and grow into big people like us.”

He gazed at them for several long moments before he finally straightened to his full height. When he turned away from the bassinet Vanessa caught sight of his profile and was immediately struck by the wistful expression on his face.

Were the twins softening him? she wondered. Perhaps changing his stance about not having children? She wanted to think so, although she didn't know why the issue was important to her. Whether Conall ever raised a family or not would depend on the next woman he married. Not her and the twins.

He walked over to where she stood by the cabinet counter. “I don't mean this in a bad way, Vanessa, but you look exhausted. I assume the babies are keeping you up at night?”

Unwittingly, she touched a hand to her bare cheek. Without makeup and her hair pulled into a messy knot at the back of her head, she no doubt looked terrible. She hated having him see her like this, but it was too late to worry about her appearance now.

“Some nights are more broken than others,” she admitted. “If the babies would both wake at the same time it would be a big help. But Rick always wakes far before his sister and then about the time I get him fed and asleep and I'm about to crawl back into bed, she starts fussing.” She smiled at him. “But I'm not complaining. Having the babies…well, it's like a dream come true.”

He reached out and rubbed a hand up and down her
arm in what was meant to be a comforting gesture. But for Vanessa, it was like flint striking stone. The friction was igniting a trail of tiny flames along her skin, making it difficult for her to breathe.

“You need help, Vanessa. You can't continue to handle two infants alone. I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to find a nanny, but things have been hectic in the office since you've been away.”

She sighed. “I'm sorry I've gotten everything out of whack. I did call Fiona and thank her for filling in for me at the office. I hope the job isn't wearing her out.”

Conall chuckled. “Wearing Mom out? Not hardly. She thinks she's still in her twenties instead of entering her sixties.”

“She had six children and I'm letting two wear me down,” Vanessa said with a grimace. “That makes me feel like a wimp.”

“She didn't have two at once. That would wear anyone out. But today I think I might have found a nanny and if things go as planned she'll be over tomorrow or the next day for your approval.”

Her interest sparked, Vanessa asked, “Do I know this woman?”

“I doubt it. Her name is Hannah Manning and she's a retired nurse that Maura used to work with at Sierra General.”

“Oh. Well, if she's a nurse, she ought to be qualified for the job. I'll look forward to meeting her.”

His hand was still on her arm, sending sizzling little signals to her brain, and she could only hope he couldn't guess how much she wanted to touch him, kiss him again. In spite of her days and nights being consumed with caring for the twins, she'd not been able to quit thinking about the man.

“I've stewed a pot of
carne guisada
for dinner,” she said, her gaze awkwardly avoiding his. “Would you like to join me?”

“I'd love to,” he murmured, “but I'd like to do something else first.”

She was wondering what
something else
could possibly be when his forefinger slid beneath her chin and lifted her face up to his. Their gazes clashed and Vanessa's heart began to thud so hard she could scarcely breathe.

“Conall, this…is…not good,” she finally managed to whisper.

His mouth twisted to a sexy slant. “How do you know that? We haven't done it yet.”

She groaned with misgivings but the sound didn't deter him. Instead, both his hands came up to frame the sides of her face. The tender intimacy shot her resistance to tiny pieces and as his head lowered toward hers, she closed her eyes and leaned into him.

This time the meeting of their mouths was not the fragile exploration they'd exchanged in Las Vegas. No, this time it was all-out hunger, and what little breath Vanessa had beforehand was instantly swept away by the crush of his hard lips.

Instinctively her hands grabbed for support and landed smack in the middle of his chest. She gripped folds of his cotton shirt as the heat of his body infused hers with heady warmth and his hands began a lazy expedition against her shoulders.

Certain she was going to dissolve in a helpless puddle if the kiss went any further, Vanessa frantically tore herself away and turned her back to him.

She was fiercely trying to fill her lungs with oxygen, when his lips pressed against her ear and she closed her
eyes as he began to whisper, “I'm not going to apologize for that, Vanessa. It felt too right.”

She couldn't argue that point. Until now, until Conall's lips had touched hers, no man's kiss had ever spun her away to such a fairy-tale world. And that was the problem, she thought desperately. Conall was a prince and he wasn't looking to make her his princess.

She swallowed hard. “I don't expect you to apologize,” she said in a faint voice. “I'm just—” Stiffening her resolve, she turned back to him. “I don't know what's going through your mind, Conall. But I think you should understand that I'm not a woman who plays around.”

For a fraction of a second, he looked astounded and then a grimace tightened his features. “Do you think I'm a man who plays around?”

Her eyes searched his. “I've never thought so. But you're starting to make me wonder.”

He let out a mocking snort. “I haven't touched another woman in a long, long time. Does that sound like a man that's on the prowl?”

It sounded like a man who was still in love with his ex-wife, or one that had been wounded so badly he'd turned away from love altogether. Either way, Vanessa thought, the notion was a bleak one.

Sighing heavily, she stepped around him and crossed over to a small gas range. Giving one of the knobs a savage twist, she ignited a flame beneath a blue granite pot.

After a moment, she answered his question. “No. It sounds to me like a man that's confused.”

“Confused, hell,” he muttered.

She glanced over her shoulder to see him striding toward her and before she could stop it, desire washed
through her like a hot wave, knocking down her defenses before she could even get them erected.

“Well, if you're not mixed up, I am,” she admitted.

He stopped within a few inches of her and though he didn't touch her, Vanessa could almost feel his hands, his gaze, roaming her face, her body.

“Explain that, would you?”

A war exploded inside her and she was trying to decide if she wanted to throw herself in his arms or scurry out of the room, when he shifted closer.

She tried to swallow but her throat was so dry she nearly choked in the process. Finally, she managed to say, “I don't understand any of this, Conall.”

He was looking at her with that same stony expression she'd seen on him in the office when things weren't going his way.

“It would help if I knew what
this
was,” he stated.

The fact that he was deliberately being ignorant made her clench her jaw tight and suddenly all the doubts and emotions that had been swirling around in her for the past two weeks boiled to the surface. “You know what I'm talking about, Conall!” she burst out. “I've worked for you every day for more than two months and you hardly took a moment to look at me, much less touch me. Now all of a sudden you behave as though I'm irresistible. It's—it's ridiculous! That's what it is.”

Behind her the stewed beef began to boil rapidly and the sound matched the blood pounding in her ears. Twisting around to the stove, she automatically lowered the flame as she sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm herself. But the effort failed completely as soon as his hands settled upon her shoulders.

“Vanessa, I don't understand why you're so worked
up over a kiss,” he murmured. “I'm not asking you to jump into bed with me.”

The mere idea of making intimate love to this man was enough to make her face flame and her body burn. And she suddenly felt terribly, terribly embarrassed. Maybe she was acting foolish and naive. Maybe she was making a mountain out of a molehill.

Forcing herself to turn and face him, she said, “I'm sorry, Conall, but this change in our relationship has caught me off guard. I wasn't expecting any of this and—”

“Do you think I was? Hell, Vanessa, like I said before I've not even looked in a woman's direction in years. And even after you came to work for me I wasn't thinking of you in this way, but…”

She waited for him to finish, but he appeared to be lost for words.

“But what, Conall? I receive word about the babies and suddenly you're looking at me as though you've never seen me before.”

“That's true,” he admitted.

Incredulous, Vanessa stared at him. “It is?”

Clearly frustrated, he swiped a hand through his dark brown hair. “I can't give you a solid reason for my behavior, Vanessa, except that the day you fainted in the office I began to see you as a woman.”

Grimacing, she peered around him to the opposite side of the room. Thankfully, the twins were still sleeping soundly in their bassinet.

“And what was I before?” she asked dryly, “A robot that answered the phone and dealt with your correspondence?”

He groaned. “I'm trying to explain.”

“You're not doing a very good job of it,” she pointed out.

His hands slipped from her shoulders and slid down her arms until they reached her hands. Then, like a pair of flesh-and-bone handcuffs, his fingers clamped around her wrists.

“You're not making the task any easier, either,” he countered.

Nervously moistening her lips, she focused her gaze to the middle button on his shirt. “I suppose I'm not,” she admitted. “But try to see things from my angle, Conall. Suddenly you're making the twins a nursery, buying them gifts and—and handling me as though…you want to! What am I suppose to think? Are you playing up to me just so you can be around the twins?”

“That's damned stupid!”

Surprised by sharpness in his voice, her gaze flew up to his face.

“I care about the twins,” he went on. “But I'm pretty sure you'd let me visit them whether I kissed you or not.”

Desperate for answers, she spluttered at him, “So why are you kissing me? Because your libido has woken up and I'm handy?”

His nostrils flared as his fingers tightened on her wrists. “Vanessa, none of this is hard to understand. I'm simply being a man. A man that has found himself attracted to a woman. A kiss is…well, I'm trying to tell you that I think we should get to know each other better. On a more personal level.”

She groaned with disbelief. “That wasn't a get-to-know-you kiss, Conall. That was more like an I-missed-you-like-hell kiss.”

To her amazement, a tempting little grin spread
across his lips. “Finally, you're getting something right,” he murmured, his eyes settling softly on her face. “I have missed you like hell.”

His admission sent a foolish thrill rushing through her, spinning her heartbeat to a rapid thud.

“That's very hard to believe,” she said, in a breathless whisper.

“Then maybe I'd better give you another demonstration. Just to prove my point.”

Making his intentions clear, his head bent toward hers and though Vanessa told herself she'd be smart to make a quick escape, she couldn't make a move. Instead, she stood transfixed and waited for his lips to capture hers.

J
ust a few more moments, Vanessa promised herself, and then she'd gather the strength to step away from the heated search of Conall's lips. She'd get her breath back, along with her senses, and then she'd remind herself why being in his arms was as dangerous as sidling up to a sizzling stick of dynamite.

But so far the minutes continued to tick away and she'd not taken that first move to end their kiss. Instead, she couldn't stop her lips from parting beneath his, her arms from sliding around his waist.

She was leaning into him, her whole body buzzing with the anticipation of getting even closer to his hard body, when she caught the sound of Rick's faint whimpers.

The pressure of Conall's lips eased just a fraction, telling her that he must have picked up on the baby's
subtle call. Even so, he didn't bother to end the kiss until the tiny boy let loose with an all-out cry.

Lifting his head, he drew in a ragged breath and glanced over his shoulder toward the bassinet. “That child needs to learn better timing,” he said with humor, then glancing back to Vanessa, he added, “Sounds like duty calls.”

Struggling to regain her composure, she said in a husky voice, “It's Rick. I can tell by his cry. He's probably thinking it's time for his supper, too.”

After switching off the fire beneath the
carne guisada
, she walked over to the bassinet. Conall followed close on her heels.

“Can I help?” he asked.

She lifted the fussing Rick from the bed. “It would be a big help if you could hold him while I heat a bottle.”

Conall eagerly held out his arms. “I'd be glad to hold him, just don't expect me to make him stop crying,” he warned. “I wouldn't know how.”

She carefully placed the baby in the crook of Conall's strong arm. “Just rock him a little,” she suggested. “And don't worry if he keeps on crying. He's not hurting, just exercising his opinion.”

Chuckling, he looked down at the fussy baby. “Oh, well, we men have to do that from time to time.”

Pausing for just a moment, Vanessa couldn't help but take in the sight of Conall with tiny Rick cradled against his broad chest. The man looked like a born father, she thought, certainly not a guy that had sworn off having children.

Shaking away that disturbing notion, Vanessa hurried to the refrigerator to fetch the bottle. She was about to place it in the microwave, when Rose decided to let loose with a wail.

“I think you'd better make it two bottles,” Conall said, raising his voice above the crying.

“So I hear.”

Vanessa collected another bottle from the refrigerator and quickly heated them to a wrist-warm temperature. By the time she handed Conall one of the bottles and went to gather Rose from the bassinet, the girl was howling at the top of her lungs.

“I think you'll find it easier to feed him if you're sitting down,” Vanessa told Conall, then she picked up Rose and crooned soothingly to the baby while carrying her over to the dining table.

After taking a seat, Vanessa propped the baby in the crook of her arm and offered her the bottle. Rose latched on to the nipple and began to nurse hungrily.

On the opposite side of the table Conall was trying to emulate Vanessa's movements. “I've never fed a baby before,” he admitted. “I'm not sure I'm doing any of this right.”

From what Vanessa could see the Donovan family had been having babies left and right with Maura's two boys and Brady's little girl. She found it difficult to believe that Conall hadn't given at least one of them a bottle. Especially Brady's daughter, since the two brothers lived together in the main ranch house. Sure, he was a busy man, she reasoned, but not that busy. Perhaps the babies had all been breast-fed. That might account for his lack of experience, she thought.

“There's nothing to it,” she assured him. “Just keep his head supported and the bottle tilted upward so he won't suck air. He'll do the rest.”

He shifted Rick to a comfortable position and offered him the bottle. Once the baby was nursing quietly,
Conall looked over at Vanessa and smiled. “Hey, that's quite a silencer. Does a bottle always do the trick?”

Vanessa chuckled. “Unfortunately, no. Sometimes they cry when they aren't hungry and I have to try to figure out what's wrong and what they're trying to tell me.”

He nodded. “Like a horse. They can't talk with words, but they have other ways of communicating.”

It wasn't a surprise to Vanessa to hear Conall use equine terminology. Even though he didn't spend his days down at the barns as Liam did, he was equally as knowledgeable about the animals. In fact, the first time she'd seen Conall up close was when she'd visited the Diamond D and she and Maura had walked down to the training area where Conall had been breezing a huge black Thoroughbred around an oval dirt track. At the time he'd been a lean teenager, not the muscular man he was now. Yet she'd remembered being impressed by his strength and the easy way he'd handled the spirited stallion.

Needless to say, from that moment on he'd been her dark, secret prince and she'd dreamed of how incredible it would be to be the object of his affection. But then he'd graduated from high school and left for college. Vanessa had put away her crush for the rich Donovan boy and focused on the reality of her future, one that included leaving Lincoln County, New Mexico, and her adolescent dreams behind.

“Vanessa, you've gone far way. What are you thinking?”

Unaware that she'd gotten so lost in her thoughts, her face warmed with a blush as she glanced over at him. “Actually, I was thinking back to the first time I saw you,” she admitted.

The lift of his dark brows said she'd surprised him.

“Really? You remember that?”

Clearly his memory bank didn't include the first time he'd seen her, but then she hardly expected him to recall such a thing. He'd been older and had moved in much higher social circles than she. He'd always been associated with the brightest and prettiest girls on the high school campus. He would have never bothered to give someone like her a second glance.

“I do. You were on the track, exercising one of your father's horses.”

He chuckled with fond remembrance. “Hmm. That must have been when I was thirty pounds lighter.”

“You were about seventeen.”

With a shake of his head, he murmured, “So long ago.”

“I had a huge crush on you.”

The moment the words passed her lips, Vanessa expected amusement to appear on his face, or even a laugh to rumble out of him. Instead, he studied her thoughtfully for a long, long spell and Vanessa got the impression he was thinking back to those carefree days before either of them had met their respective spouses.

“I didn't know,” he said finally.

She felt the blush on her face sting her cheeks even hotter. To escape his searching gaze, she bent her head over Rose's sweet little face.

“No,” she murmured, as she absently adjusted the receiving blanket around the baby's shoulders. “I would have died with embarrassment if you'd found out. In fact, I never told anyone about my feelings for you. Not even my mother.”

“And why was that?” he quietly asked.

That pulled her attention back to him and she smiled
wanly. “Mama was a realist. She would have given me a long lecture about crying for the moon.”

His brows formed a line of disapproval. “You make it sound like I was some sort of unattainable prize, Vanessa.”

“To me you were.”

His head swung back and forth. “I was just a young man, like millions of others in the world.”

Not to her. Not then. Not now, Vanessa thought. With a shake of her head, she gave him a patient smile. “Conall, look around. You didn't pick your girlfriends from this sort of background. Nor would you now.”

Rolling his eyes toward the ceiling, he mouthed a curse under his breath. “I don't have girlfriends now. I've already told you that.” He lowered his gaze back to her face. “Unless I count you as one.”

Her heart gave a jerk. “Is that what I am to you?”

A slow grin tilted the corners of his lips. “I think that's a subject we need to discuss, don't you?”

Was he serious? No. He couldn't be. But, oh, his kiss had felt very, very serious. And that scared her. She wasn't emotionally capable of dealing with a man like him. “No. That's out of the question.”

“Why?”

She couldn't stop the tiny groan from sounding in her throat. “I could give you a whole list of reasons. The main one being we have to work with each other.”

“So? I can't see that posing a problem. Neither of us are married or committed to someone else.”

“It would make things awkward,” she said flatly. “Impossible, in fact.”

Seeing that Rose had quit nursing and fallen asleep, Vanessa placed the near empty bottle on the table. Rising to her feet, she carefully positioned the baby against
her shoulder and gently patted her back. As soon as she heard a loud burp, she carried the sleeping girl back to the bassinet.

“I think he's finished eating, too,” Conall told her. “But he's not asleep. His eyes are wide open.”

“He probably won't cry now if you put him back by his sister,” she suggested as she crossed the room to pull dishes from the cabinet. “But you need to burp him first.”

“I might need a little help with that.”

Leaving the task of the dishes behind, she walked back over to where he sat holding the baby. “Place him against your shoulder or across your lap,” she instructed.

Slowly, he adjusted the boy so that he was reclined against his shoulder.

“Now what?”

“Pat him gently on the back.”

He frowned at her. “I don't know what you consider gentle.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, I don't mean pat him like you would a horse's neck!” Deciding it would be easier to show him, she picked up Conall's hand and placed a few measured pats against Rick's back.

“Okay, I get—”

Before he could complete the rest of his sentence, Rick made a belching noise, which was immediately followed by Conall's yelp.

Vanessa didn't have to ask what had happened. She could see a thick stream of milk oozing from Rick's mouth and rolling down Conall's back.

“Uggh! Is that what I think it is?” he asked, twisting his head around in order to get a glimpse of his soggy shoulder.

“Sorry,” she said, and before she could stop herself she began to laugh.

He flashed a droll look at her. “I didn't know being vomited on was so funny.”

“It isn't. But—” She was laughing so hard she couldn't finish, but instead of him getting angry, he began to grin.

He said, “I didn't know you could laugh like that.”

She calmed herself enough to say, “I didn't know you could look so…dumbfounded, either.”

He thrust the baby at her. “Here, you'd better take the little volcano before he erupts again.”

Still chuckling, Vanessa lifted Rick from his arms. While she cleaned the baby's face, Conall snatched up several paper towels and attempted to wipe the burp from the back of his shirt.

“I'll help you do that,” Vanessa told him. “Just let me get Rick settled back in the bassinet.”

Once she had both babies nestled together in their bed, she walked over to where Conall stood at the kitchen sink.

“You smell like formula,” she said.

“No kidding.”

She motioned for him to turn his back to her. When he did, she groaned with dismay.

“Oh, Conall, this is beyond wiping. You're going to have to take off your shirt and let me wash it for you.”

“That's too much trouble. Surely the mess will dry.”

“Eventually,” she agreed. “But I don't think either of us will enjoy eating our supper with that smell at the dining table.” She motioned with her hand for the shirt. “Give it to me. I have other things to wash anyway. And
if you're worried about sitting around half-naked, I'll find you one of Dad's old shirts.”

“All right, all right,” he mumbled, then quickly began to strip out of the garment.

Vanessa tried not to stare as the fabric parted from his chest and slipped off his shoulders. Still, it was impossible to keep her gaze totally averted from his muscled chest, the dark patch of hair between his nipples and the hard abs disappearing into the waistband of his jeans.

“I'll put it right in the machine,” she said in a rush, then hurried out of the room before she made a complete idiot out of herself.

A man's anatomy was nothing new to her, she reminded herself as she tossed Conall's shirt into the washing machine and followed it with a few more garments. She'd been married for five years and Jeff had been a physically attractive man. Yet looking at him without his shirt hadn't left her breathless or tongue-tied, the way looking at Conall had a moment ago.

Trying not to reason that one out, Vanessa went to a closet where she'd stored some of her father's clothing in hopes that one day he'd get well enough to come home and wear them again. Now she pulled out a dark blue plaid shirt and hurried back to the kitchen.

When she stepped through the doorway, she spotted Conall sitting at the table and she swallowed hard as she walked over and handed him the shirt. “Here's something to wear while you're waiting. It might be a little big,” she warned. “Dad was pretty fleshy before he had the stroke.”

“Thanks, I'm sure it'll be fine.”

Rising to his feet, he plunged his arms into the sleeves of the cotton shirt. To her surprise the shirt wasn't all that big, proof that her eyes hadn't deceived her when
they had taken in the sight of his broad shoulders and thick chest.

“So now that the babies are settled and you don't smell like a half-soured milk factory, are you ready to eat?” she asked.