Prince Charming in Dress Blues (4 page)

J
ohn leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb and stared at the sleeping woman across the room from him. She looked so small in the big bed, half-buried under a blue-and-white quilt and surrounded by a mountain of pillows.

But he wasn’t fooled by her size. He knew firsthand just how tough this woman was.

His insides flipped once, hard. Now that the emergency was over, he could take a minute to fully appreciate just how lucky they’d both been. The baby was a month early, but she was big and healthy. No complications during delivery. No problems at all, really. And as that thought fluttered through his mind, he sent up a quick, heartfelt prayer of gratitude.

The baby, lying in the crook of Annie’s arm, stirred and whimpered. John pushed away from the wall and
walked quickly, soundlessly to the side of the bed. Shadows of exhaustion lay beneath Annie’s eyes, but the baby looked wide-eyed and ready for trouble.

A pair of hazy blue eyes looked up at him, and despite knowing that he probably looked like a big blur to her, John told himself that the tiny girl was staring right at him. One impossibly small hand lifted and long, fragile fingers reached for him. He sucked in a gulp of air and actually
felt
it when the baby’s fist closed around his heart.

“A heartbreaker,” he whispered, and carefully lifted the baby, still wrapped in her bath-towel blanket, from the circle of Annie’s arm. “That’s what you are. A heartbreaker.”

She only stared at him owlishly.

“Come on, now, let’s give your mom some sleep time,” he said, his voice taking on an instinctive, singsong rhythm. Cuddling her into his chest, John headed for the main room and surprised himself by just how much he enjoyed the feel of that new life in his arms.

He’d never imagined himself as a father—despite the fact that he’d had a damn near perfect childhood, raised by parents who loved each other. Fatherhood just wasn’t something that had appealed to him. Maybe it was the whole idea of being responsible for another human being. Maybe it was fear of screwing up an innocent kid by making stupid parenting mistakes.

But whatever the reason, he’d avoided all chances at a serious relationship that might have led to parenthood. He’d always told himself that he was perfectly happy in his life. Answering to no one but the Corps. Going his own way. Doing his own thing.

But now, he thought as he took a seat on the floor
near the fireplace and leaned back against the sofa, he had to wonder. The small, sturdy weight on his arm felt good. Right, somehow. And looking down into a pair of eyes that had seen nothing of the world made him want to show her everything.

She waved her little hand at him again, and this time he caught her fist with his fingertips. Smoothing the pad of his thumb into her closed fist, he felt those little fingers, sensed the strength inside and was humbled all over again.

“You’re a booby trap, aren’t you?” he asked quietly, and she tilted her head as if trying to understand him. “Yep,” he went on, smiling now at the frowns and grimaces tightening her little features. “You look all innocent and everything. But once a person gets close, you suck ‘em in and take ‘em out.”

She stretched and yawned, obviously bored with the conversation. John chuckled and tucked the towel more closely around her little body. Amazing, really, he thought. Only a few hours ago she wasn’t here. And now she was breathing and fussing and making herself known in no uncertain terms. An entire, new person.

And he already loved her with a fierceness he wouldn’t have believed possible.

Annie stood in the doorway, watching the two of them. Her heartbeat staggered slightly at the simple beauty of that gorgeous man tenderly holding the baby. Laying one hand against the doorjamb, she steadied her shaky knees and took a long minute to just enjoy the picture in front of her.

She still wasn’t sure just who John Paretti was, but she was positive of one thing: tonight he’d been her
guardian angel. And as that thought ricocheted through her mind, she told herself he even
looked
like some dark angel. Black hair, pale, icy-blue eyes and a face made up of sharp planes and angles.

Silhouetted by the fire, his profile was strong, and his biceps looked huge even through the fabric of his Irish knit sweater. Yet this powerful-looking man held her newborn daughter with a tenderness she could sense from across the room. And she knew, from firsthand experience, just how gentle those big hands of his could be.

A small curl of embarrassment wound through her before she could stop it. Silly, she thought, with an inward smile. Way too late to be embarrassed now. John had seen every inch of her—and not from a particularly flattering angle.

And now that she thought about it, just what did you say to a man after sharing something like that? How about dinner? Nope. She didn’t think so. Besides, no point in getting attached to tall, dark and gorgeous. As soon as the snow cleared up, they’d be going their separate ways. She frowned as a distinct feeling of regret flared up inside her.

Now where did that come from? she wondered, and quickly quashed the notion. But before it was totally gone, he turned his head and looked directly at her as if he was reading her mind and entertained by it.

“Should you be out of bed?”

Annie smiled and lifted one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “I couldn’t stay in bed.” Her gaze drifted from his to her daughter’s firelit face. “I got lonely.”

“She was fussing, thought I’d let you get some sleep.”

Pushing away from the wall, she crossed the room and carefully…
very
carefully, eased down onto the sofa beside him. “Ridiculous to admit this,” she said, wincing slightly as she settled into the cushions, “but I’m not really tired.”

Her entire body ached, yet she felt better than she had in years. In fact, she felt completely energized. As if she could run a marathon or climb a mountain or…okay, maybe not. But the least she could do was sit up and talk to the man she owed so much to.

He turned his head and looked up at her, and as the firelight flickered across his features, a feminine dart of admiration shot through her. Really, he was way too good-looking. Then he smiled and her heartbeat skipped a bit.

“I think she’s starting to look for dinner.”

“Hmm? Oh!” Shaking her head she told herself to get a grip on obviously rampaging hormones, then held out her arms for the baby. John gently handed over her daughter, but didn’t move back as Annie tucked the infant into the crook of her arm.

“She’s amazing,” he whispered, and she felt the brush of his breath across her cheek.

“She really is beautiful, isn’t she?” Annie asked, turning her face toward his and almost gasping at just how close he was. Only a breath away. And in a deep corner of her mind Annie realized that if the circumstances were different, she just might be fantasizing about being kissed.

Her gaze dropped briefly to his mouth, and she sucked in air and deliberately looked away. Boy, this hormone thing could really get out of hand.

“So what’s her name?” he asked.

The baby. Good. Talk about the baby, keep her mind off his mouth. “Jordan,” she said, smiling at the child she’d been waiting forever to meet in person.

“Pretty name.”

“Thanks,” she said, then added, “and thanks again for what you did for me and Jordan.”

“You already thanked me,” he said quietly, his voice blending in with the hiss and crackle of the flames just a few feet away.

Not enough, she thought, knowing that a part of her would always be thanking him. For the rest of Jordan’s life, Annie would be saying an extra prayer each night for the man who’d seen them both safely through. “Yeah, well, I figure delivering a baby deserves more than just one thank-you.”

“Okay,” he said, smiling at her again, and one more time she felt that quickening of her heart.

For heaven’s sake. She’d just given birth a few hours ago.

“But I ought to be thanking you, too,” he pointed out.

She laughed shortly. “For what? Squeezing your hands hard enough to break bones?”

He grinned, and Annie’s breath caught. She wondered if he was aware just how lethal a weapon that smile of his was.

“Nope,” he said, “though you do have a hell of a grip. I meant for missing me when you threw that lamp.”

Annie winced at the memory. “I’m sorry about that, but you did surprise me and—”

“No problem,” he said, “I’m just glad you don’t have better aim.”

“I have great aim,” she countered. “Labor pains distracted me.”

“For which I’m grateful.”

“As it turned out, so am I,” she admitted with a wry smile. After all, what would she have done if she’d knocked out her only help?

The baby squirmed restlessly, and Annie stroked one fingertip along her cheek. Jordan turned her head into Mommy’s touch, opening and closing her mouth as she blindly searched for food. Annie smiled to herself. This she could do. Even without any of the baby supplies she had waiting at home. “She’s hungry,” she whispered.

“Looks like,” John said, and eased back a little. Then shifting his gaze to hers, he said, “Why don’t you feed her, and I’ll go fix us something to eat. Give you two some privacy.”

One corner of her mouth lifted into a small smile. “It’s a little late to be worrying about my modesty, isn’t it?”

He actually looked embarrassed as he stood up, shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and looked down at her. “That was different. That was an emergency situation. This is…”

“Dinnertime?” Annie finished for him.

“Exactly,” he said, nodding and turning for the kitchen.

As she watched him retreat, Annie smiled to herself. An interesting man, she thought, as she unbuttoned her nightgown and bared her breast. He’d seen her through the most incredible, terrifying night of her life with a sense of calm that had eased her own fears. But he’d run from the sight of her nursing the baby he’d delivered.

Then Jordan’s little mouth clamped around her nipple,
and Annie’s mind emptied. Sensations crowded her, and she hugged every one of them to her: her child’s small warm body cuddled close; firelight dancing around the room; the wind driven snow pelting the windowpanes; and the comforting knowledge that John Paretti was in the next room.

It wasn’t embarrassment that had chased him out of the room, John thought from the kitchen’s shadowy doorway. He’d seen women nurse babies before. Heck, there were enough Paretti cousins to populate a small country. He’d grown up surrounded by nursing women. This was something entirely different.

Something he figured would be best left unidentified.

But a tightening low inside him warned that ignoring it wouldn’t make it go away. And not putting a name to it didn’t change a damn thing. Ridiculous, he argued silently with himself. All right, so she’s beautiful. And strong. And incredibly brave. She also just had a baby. John lifted one hand and scrubbed it hard across his face.

Man, he was some kind of dog, he thought. He had to be. Otherwise, why would he find the sight of Annie breast-feeding her baby so damned erotic? Hell, he’d been alone too long. What he needed was to get back into the dating pool. Find himself a nice, warm body to cozy up to. Unfortunately, the only warm body he was interested in was out there in the main room. And she wouldn’t be cozying up to anybody for at least six weeks. Even then, he thought, she probably wouldn’t be interested in dating a man who’d already seen her at her most vulnerable.

Probably for the best, he told himself, deliberately turning his back on the private moment Annie was sharing with her new daughter. He moved into the kitchen, opened the pantry door and stared blindly at the mountain of supplies Pete and Lisa kept on hand. Yeah, for the best. He wasn’t looking for anything permanent, and a woman who’d just had a child wouldn’t be looking for anything temporary.

“Laughing at me is
not
productive.”

“I’m not laughing
at
you,” John told her around a fresh burst of chuckles, “I’m laughing
with
you.”

Sure. She believed that. “Do I look like I’m laughing to you?”

He sobered instantly, then gave it up as his lips twitched again. “Guess not.” He took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

But he didn’t look the least bit apologetic. And if she wasn’t feeling so frustrated, she might not have blamed him for laughing. But as it was… Annie huffed out a breath of air, fluttering the bangs on her forehead. Staring down at her still-naked baby and the makeshift diaper she could not, for some reason, make fit, Annie wished futilely for one of those neat little disposable jobs.

But the snow was still blowing outside, as it had been since the night before, so a trip to the local market was out of the question.

“You’re getting better,” he said in a placating tone.

“You’re not a very good liar,” she told him on a sigh. Ordinarily, not a bad trait in a man, she thought. However, right now she could have used a comforting little lie.

“That one really wasn’t too bad,” John said, and she slid him a long, slow look out of narrowed eyes.

“Gee, thanks.” Good-looking, charming and a master with a dishtowel diaper. Was there no end to the man’s talents?

“You’ll get the hang of it,” John assured her, apparently unfazed by her glare. “Just remember that the object of the whole business is to actually
cover
the baby’s bottom.”

“Very funny,” she muttered, and bent to fold the dish towel one more time. Jordan lay still on the bed, blinking her hazy blue eyes at the ceiling as if trying to figure out exactly where she was. Poor little thing. She had no idea that her mother was so helpless, that a Marine made a better mommy.

But she’d improve. Looking down into her daughter’s tiny face, Annie promised her that she would learn everything and that she would be the best mom she could possibly be. Maybe Jordan wouldn’t have a father around like the other kids, but she would have a mother who would always be there for her.

And with that thought firmly in mind, Annie swallowed her pride, looked up at John and said, “Show me again?”