Sitting back into his seat, he pinned her with his gaze and made sure to hold her
eye contact as he told her truth “You don’t understand, Miss Neal. I will have you, regardless of the price.”
Chapter Five
Two Weeks Later
The biting aroma of French Roast coffee hung in the space between the rather
ornate foyer and the lived-in den. A mixture of themes of modern minimalist and urban
contemporary gave the rooms a transitory feel. Like the room was either being
refurbished or had never been completed. Charlotte didn’t know which. The foyer
gleamed, but the parade of toys, balls, and scattered blankets grew in number the closer
she got to the den.
“You have an interesting home,” Charlotte said, standing in the den’s archway.
She tried not to stare too much at her new boss as he came strolling down the hallway.
Dressed like the first time she met him, Ichigo wore the midnight black
paramedic slacks that clung to his muscled thighs and the crisp white uniform shirt that
bore the City of Greensboro symbol and his last name two inches over his heart. That
heavenly ivory lent itself to the divine and he was damn fine. He flashed those equally
brilliant teeth in a smile so sexy she let out a puff-mixed sigh of deep-seated longing.
“Eclectic, you mean?” he asked. “Sit down. Drink some coffee, relax a bit,” he
said, and strolled by her into the den.
His scent wafted against her and she bit her lip to stem the moan that rose up
fast against her throat. Damn he smelled so good. She walked to the plaid covered couch and sat down. Lowering herself into the
soft, worn cushions with a thread of nervousness slithering in her stomach. On the
cherry-wood stained end table, rested fine bone china cups of coffee. The dark liquid
steamed. The set seemed too feminine to be in a single male’s home.
He handed her a cup of coffee, and she jumped a bit as his fingers brushed hers.
Beside them, a clear container of sugar, a spoon, and a metal carafe of creamer all had
been neatly placed. She fixed her coffee to her liking, despite it being four in the
afternoon. Without looking directly at him, Charlotte could feel his eyes on her. She
didn’t know when he had poured her cup or made the pot. She’d only just arrived ten
minutes ago.
“So, how goes your recovery?” Ichigo asked, crossing his legs as he sat beside
her on the sofa. His glossy black hair held by a thick rubber band, ponytailed at the base
of his neck.
“I found a good chiropractor and he’s fixing the little kinks,” she said, rubbing
her shoulder. “I’m off the Vicodin.”
“Excellent. I’m glad you’re doing better,” he said.
From the warmth of his voice, she could tell he meant it. It made her stomach
bubble.
Silence, but his eyes stayed on her. He sipped his coffee, the cup seemingly tiny
in his large hands. He stared at her over the rim, and those eyes twinkled. What was he
thinking?
“So, tell me about your daughter,” she said. Damn it. Her voice wavered. “Kanon’s a good girl. Spirited, but she has a kind, loving heart.”
“I’m sure she is.” What else could she say? His tone implied that he’d had to say
that a lot of times. “How many nannies has she had?”
His face closed.
Her belly burned in warning. Something wasn’t right. She couldn’t put her finger
on it, but his comment about how wonderful his daughter was, now he wouldn’t even
look at her and his smile had wilted and gone from his face, plus his death grip on his
cup all told her something more was going on here.
“Several,” he answered at last. “She is a good girl. Spirited and a bit
rambunctious, but not bad.”
She nodded. “So, you’ve said.”
He paused, opened his mouth to say something, closed it and then said, “Make a
list of what items you need to cook dinners. I will get them from the grocery store
tomorrow. Her favorites are fruit, pancakes…”
“Pancakes? For dinner?”
“Yes, she is a delightful free spirit,” he beamed, picking invisible lint from his
pants.
“You love her a lot,” she said, her heart warming. The misgivings’ roar grew
faint.
“Yes,” he said. “She’s my world.”
“I can tell.” “Well, you should meet her,” he said, checking his watch. “You can decide for
yourself. Kanon!”
Kanon’s bubbling giggles poured into the den before the raven haired girl.
“Daddy!”
Beautiful. The word failed to truly capture her beauty and the overused word
paled to really explain the darling, button cute little girl. Dressed in girl-pink shorts and
a purple-heart covered tee-shirt, she could’ve been cut out from a catalog.
Ichigo swept her up into a fast hug, before slowly tumbling her down to the
carpet. Giggles flowed from her tiny mouth. She clasped both plump hands around his
legs making him uncross them. She crawled behind and peered outward.
Her dark eyes fell on Charlotte and instantly the laughing stopped. A tiny,
curious grin stayed, but those eyes were suspicious.
Yeah. Charlotte had seen that before—on her father.
“Don’t be shy,” he said down to her. He leaned over so he could look directly at
her. “This is your new nanny, Miss Neal.”
“Call me Charlotte,” she said, getting to a seated position on the floor across
from Kanon. “It’s very nice to meet you. I’m happy to get to know you.”
“Be polite, flower, say hello.”
Kanon burrowed further back from Charlotte’s outstretched hand. Big shiny
tears glimmered in her eyes and her lower lip trembled as her grip tightened on her
father’s pants. Ichigo stood up, collecting her into his arms as he did so. She clutched her to
him, clinging for dear life.
“I, I don’t…” Charlotte started, but found her voice trailing off. She didn’t know
what to do or say. Never in her three years of teaching and two years of student
teaching had she seen that reaction to her by a child. Shyness, sure, but the level of
uncertainty, no.
Ichigo cooed and patted Kanon, but his eyes were all for Charlotte. Pain flashed
across them, and then in a blink, it was gone.
“She’s a good person. I won’t leave you with someone who will hurt you, Kanon.
I trust Miss Neal.”
Something garbled by tears and hiccups replied.
“No, uh, my flower,” he whispered softly, his eyes closing as he held her tighter.
Charlotte slowly got to her feet. She felt like an intruder and she didn’t even do
anything. Maybe this wasn’t for the best. The child had gone through several nannies
and where was her mother?
“Mister Isamu…”
“Please, call me Ichigo,” he said, rocking Kanon against him.
“Okay, Mister, uh, Ichigo…”
“Give me a moment.” He walked to the archway. “Don’t leave.”
“Listen, I…”
He hovered in the entranceway, his back to her. Small hands thrown over his
neck clutched the white fabric for dear life. “Don’t leave.”
With that he was gone.
Charlotte swallowed and tried to reign in her emotions. Damn him. The girl was
fragile, and she didn’t know quite ho
w to exit this situation gracefully. She needed the
job. Her rent was already a month in arrears. The accident, the hospital bills, and the
chiropractor each squeezed her for every drop she had and that wasn’t much. Her
savings had edged ever closer to being in the red.
But this child…
In minutes, the soft, cheerful voices flooded the den from some other room in the
house. Ichigo strolled back into the den, and plopped down onto the sofa. He blew out a
low stream of air.
“I apologize,” he said, folding his hands in front of him, lacing his fingers
together. “She’s been through several nannies over the last few years. She’s a bit
cautious.”
Charlotte nodded in understanding. The girl had been through a lot of change.
“Where’s her mother?”
Ichigo’s head snapped up. His eyebrows crouched down over his eyes, and face
became like a stone. Stiffly, he stood up. Without waiting, he shoved his hands into his
pockets. Over his shoulder, he said, “It’s a long story, and I have a short time before I
have to be at work.”
“Of course,” she said, feeling the flush burn across her cheeks. What a damn
dumb question to ask. Sometimes she should think before she opened her mouth. “Telephone numbers for the police, the poison control center, are all listed on the
fridge. I’ll be back here about one or two,” he plowed on like he hadn’t heard her. “Call
me if you have questions. Leave a message if I don’t answer.”
He vanished into other parts of the house and Kanon’s whimpers could be heard.
Here goes nothing, Charlotte walked to the door and waited.
Before she knew it, Ichigo came down the hallway, stealing her breath once
more. God, he was so damn yummy.
“If you’re awake when I get home, I’d like to talk,” he said, touching her
shoulder and making her panties wet with need. “I want to know how she does.”
“I think we’ll be all right,” Charlotte said, putting more confidence in her words,
than what she actually felt.
His face changed from solemn to relaxed. A small smile appeared.
“Oh, there is no doubt about that at all,” he said, eyes locking onto hers. “You are
the only thing I’m sure about right now. She will come to like you as much as I do.”
Instantly, the warm heat crept up her neck and she knew he saw it. Curse it all to
hell. That’s exactly what she’d been thinking. How was he able to read her so well? She
prided herself on being able to cover and clothe how she felt in a cool, apathetic mask.
Ichigo saw through it without even trying hard. Those slender eyes saw
everything and she felt naked without her clothes.
“…I’m a man looking for a quality woman. Charlotte, I’m certain I found that in
you.” She hugged herself and choked down the gasp. Why did he make her feel like a
bowl of jello?
“Thank you, boss,” she said, emphasizing the boss so that he and she both could
return to their senses.
A major coup unfurrowed inside her. Raw, sore, and vulnerable from her
proximity to Ichigo, she couldn’t afford to give herself to him. Intoxicated, she had
become drunk on his essence. He held her gaze. Fiery lust shone from the cocoa pools
and it caused an ocean to flood her panties.
Damn she wanted his mouth on hers, his hands on her, and she wanted him
inside, deep and pulsating, pounding out that fire until nothing remained of her
hesitation, only ecstasy.
Chapter Six
Balled up beneath his grandmother’s tattered blue blanket on his sofa, a
delightful bon bon, Charlotte slept peacefully. The jangle of his key in the door, the
clunk of his shoes being left in the foyer, and his deep breathing didn’t wake her. Her
chest rose and fell in a rhythm all her own. He was thankful to be able to witness her
sleeping form. Lips slightly parted, face relaxed, only her eyes fluttered like butterfly
wings in the stillness of her visage. Beautiful didn’t begin to describe her, but it was a
start.
He’d already gone to check on his little flower, and he found Kanon tucked into
her bed, sound asleep. How Charlotte had gotten her into pjs and bed was anyone’s
guess. Leaning against the den’s archway, he envisioned himself coming home to
Charlotte and finding her warmth in the dark expanse of his bed, lying beside her body
generating heat. And when his hunger to have her awake, he’d reach for her and touch
her flame.
Weary, worn out, and hungry, Ichigo left her to sleep. Fumbling around the
kitchen, he wondered how well the night went. Kanon’s initial reaction worried him.
Clean dishes, neatly packaged food, hell, she’d even taken out the garbage. All of
Kanon’s toys had been put away in the den’s toy chest and her numerous blankets
folded up and stacked onto an overstuffed chair. Damn, Charlotte should get double
pay for maid duties. He hadn’t expected this. Tortured throughout the night, he couldn’t wait to get home to his daughter, and the little electric zeal of seeing Charlotte
again.
At only 1:23 in the morning, he’d driven home like a NASCAR hopeful. He’d
clocked out right at one, shocking his fellow coworkers. Screw them. Normally, he
stayed a few minutes later to check that all the paperwork was filed. Kanon was asleep,
so he didn’t exactly bolt out the door toward home every night.
But tonight he’d done just that.
He had new motivation for going straight to his house.
“Hey, welcome home,” came the smoky, husky murmur across the aroma of
coffee and the bubbling of boiling eggs. “You’re noisier than a freight train, you know
that?”
still wrapped around her beautiful shoulders. The sweater hugged her breasts so well
his hands were jealous. They itched to be cupping those firm pillows, to rip through the
fabric and spy her lovely delights. Jeans skimmed the full flare of her hips and lush
thighs.
She rubbed her eyes and met his smile with her own.
“Thanks,” he managed around the rasp of horniness in his throat.
“Welcome,” she said through a yawn. “It went well tonight.”
“Did it? Tell me what you and Kanon did today.”
He couldn’t believe he had to reel himself back in. His libido fought tooth and
nail against the reigns, but he had to keep it back. He couldn’t say what he meant to say, so he fell back into casual chitchat—for now. Scaring her off wouldn’t serve his purpose
anyway. No, he wanted her to himself. All to himself, but he’d share with Kanon.
“Well, we watched Dora for a bit, played with dolls and blocks, and the tea party
sealed it.”
He laughed. “She loves tea parties.”
“Yeah. We made little cakes and cocoa,” she explained, with a crooked grin.
“She’s still very reserved, but we covered some ground today. Tomorrow, we’ll try
again.”
“Good,” he said, relieved, and it made her chuckle. Whew! She was coming back
tomorrow. “I’m glad she settled in.”
“Yeah, she’s cute.”
“Uh, huh,” he said over the rim of his steaming coffee. He sipped then put the
cup down on the counter. “Tell me the truth. I can
take it.”
“I bet you can,” she quipped and came further into the artificial light. She
climbed up on a bar stool at the center of the room with one hand. The kitchen island
took up most of the floor space in the u-shaped room.
“You doubt it?”
“No,” she whispered.
It sounded like she did. He’d have to fix that.
“I can prove it,” he said, letting the heat roll off him. His walls that shielded his
hunger crashed down with a slow blink from her eyes. To hell with professionalism, he
wanted her pure and simple. And he meant to have her and that was that. “Oh, there’s no doubt about that,” she said with a chortle. “I think you’d better
check on your eggs, Casanova.”
Shit! He went back to the stove and turned down the bubbling water a bit. Her
laugher mixed in with the gurgling bubbles. The hint of scorching burned his nose.
“Guess they’re ready.”
He glanced over his shoulder at her.
“So,” he said, not making it a question. “You want to eat some eggs.”
She laughed, shattering the tension. She nodded, taking his hand. Clutching the
blanket with one hand, she smiled.
A beautiful thing to behold.
“Yeah, sure.”
A giddy zeal raced over him. Quickly, he transferred the pot to the sink. Cold
water cooled down the eggs, but not the hot flames of his carnal desire. He busied
himself with getting the bowls and a fork. Not that it took a great deal of concentration,
hell the hard part was not thinking about her. In minutes he handed her an egg. She
rolled the eggshell from the egg and went about eating it.
“You’re stunning,” he said. “So, so, wow!”
That sounded like a damn teenager! Why did she make him go all goofy?
“Thank you,” she breathed, “but if you’re trying to take me, you’re going to have
to do better than that.”
Did she mean for him to take her?
He smirked. “I see.” She did too.
He gave his attention back to Charlotte. She was still grinning at him. She knew
she unnerved him. He’d have to spank her lovely ass for teasing him.
“So,” Charlotte said coyly, fingering the fringe of the blanket. “Where’s her
mom?”
Her gaze cut toward him and studied his face for hints or permission that this
line of questioning was okay. It wasn’t what he wanted to talk about right now. Hell he