car, then bending to his knee, he slipped both shoes on her feet.
Melanie held his gaze, feeling the air charge with a current she couldn’t name. Didn’t want to examine. “Come on, Sir Galahad,” she whispered. “Let’s go home.”
He stood, grasping her hand and tucking it in the curve of his elbow. “Galahad had pure thoughts, Melanie. I don’t.”
Laughing, they strolled toward home.
A few minutes later they stood on her porch, the door half-open.
“Do you want to come in for coffee?”
“No, if I come inside, I’ll want more than coffee.” His gaze raked her hotly. “And more than one kiss.”
“I see. Then I guess a nightcap is out of the question, huh?”
“Yes, it is,” he growled, backing her up against the doorjamb. “Because I can barely stand not having you, Melanie, but the next time I make love to you, I want my ring on your finger and vows between us.”
Before she could speak, he kissed her hard, closing his arms around her and pulling her body flush against his so there was no doubt in her mind what he meant, what he wanted.
Then he let her go, spun about and climbed into his car. He drove away, leaving Melanie weak-kneed and wanting, and distrusting her own judgment.
Jack felt the change between them, the strength of the bond that went beyond the child, but he kept it to himself. Melanie was a strong woman, but trustinga man again scared the living daylights out of her. She deserved to be wary, and he still wanted to pulverize the men who’d hurt her.
He glanced at the woman pushing the stroller beside him in the park. Did she realize, as he had, that they’d fallen into a routine with each other? She might sleep alone every night, but she knew he was there. Just as he couldn’t forget what it was like to wake up beside her, to feel her long legs and arms wrapping him.
“That’s not the look of a proud father,” she said softly from beside him.
He smiled at the flush in her cheeks. “No Galahad here,” he murmured, adding a long velvety look over her body. It had become a joke between them, a message only they understood. He’d kiss her or touch her, she’d warn him off and he’d claim not to be Sir Galahad. Jack knew the only thing keeping them apart was her distrust. He was trying to earn her trust, though he hadn’t given her any reason to distrust him. He was paying for some other man’s crime, and while Jack wanted to bide his time, he was running out of it too quickly.
They’d circled the park and were heading back to Melanie’s place when she paused near a bench to adjust the restraining strap of the stroller. An elderly woman sitting there was feeding the ducks that lingered near the small pond.
“Oh, aren’t you a pretty little thing!” she said to Juliana, and leaned out to brush her fingers over the baby’s hair.
Juliana gurgled and made bubbles for the woman.
“Thank you. We think so,” Melanie said.
The woman looked up at Melanie. “She has your husband’s eyes.”
“Oh, we’re not married,” Melanie said without thinking, and instantly cursed her thoughtlessness.
The woman blinked, first glaring at them, then offering the child a look of pure pity that Melanie couldn’t ignore.
“You poor dear,” she cooed. “Raised a bastard because of selfish parents.”
Jack stiffened and pulled the stroller well back from the old woman. “I see that being inexcusably crass has nothing to do with age,” he snapped.
Melanie looked between him and her child, fighting the welling of tears.
The woman sniffed, then huffed out an indignant breath. “Well, it’s your own fault, you know. I won’t be the first—or the last to say it, either, young man. You ought to be thinking of this innocent child and not yourselves. Since you weren’t thinking of her when you made her.”
Melanie gasped, then grabbed the stroller and wheeled it away. Jack clenched his fists at his side and being an officer and a gentleman, refrained from telling
Melanie held his gaze, feeling the air charge with a current she couldn’t name. Didn’t want to examine. “Come on, Sir Galahad,” she whispered. “Let’s go home.”
He stood, grasping her hand and tucking it in the curve of his elbow. “Galahad had pure thoughts, Melanie. I don’t.”
Laughing, they strolled toward home.
A few minutes later they stood on her porch, the door half-open.
“Do you want to come in for coffee?”
“No, if I come inside, I’ll want more than coffee.” His gaze raked her hotly. “And more than one kiss.”
“I see. Then I guess a nightcap is out of the question, huh?”
“Yes, it is,” he growled, backing her up against the doorjamb. “Because I can barely stand not having you, Melanie, but the next time I make love to you, I want my ring on your finger and vows between us.”
Before she could speak, he kissed her hard, closing his arms around her and pulling her body flush against his so there was no doubt in her mind what he meant, what he wanted.
Then he let her go, spun about and climbed into his car. He drove away, leaving Melanie weak-kneed and wanting, and distrusting her own judgment.
Jack felt the change between them, the strength of the bond that went beyond the child, but he kept it to himself. Melanie was a strong woman, but trustinga man again scared the living daylights out of her. She deserved to be wary, and he still wanted to pulverize the men who’d hurt her.
He glanced at the woman pushing the stroller beside him in the park. Did she realize, as he had, that they’d fallen into a routine with each other? She might sleep alone every night, but she knew he was there. Just as he couldn’t forget what it was like to wake up beside her, to feel her long legs and arms wrapping him.
“That’s not the look of a proud father,” she said softly from beside him.
He smiled at the flush in her cheeks. “No Galahad here,” he murmured, adding a long velvety look over her body. It had become a joke between them, a message only they understood. He’d kiss her or touch her, she’d warn him off and he’d claim not to be Sir Galahad. Jack knew the only thing keeping them apart was her distrust. He was trying to earn her trust, though he hadn’t given her any reason to distrust him. He was paying for some other man’s crime, and while Jack wanted to bide his time, he was running out of it too quickly.
They’d circled the park and were heading back to Melanie’s place when she paused near a bench to adjust the restraining strap of the stroller. An elderly woman sitting there was feeding the ducks that lingered near the small pond.
“Oh, aren’t you a pretty little thing!” she said to Juliana, and leaned out to brush her fingers over the baby’s hair.
Juliana gurgled and made bubbles for the woman.
“Thank you. We think so,” Melanie said.
The woman looked up at Melanie. “She has your husband’s eyes.”
“Oh, we’re not married,” Melanie said without thinking, and instantly cursed her thoughtlessness.
The woman blinked, first glaring at them, then offering the child a look of pure pity that Melanie couldn’t ignore.
“You poor dear,” she cooed. “Raised a bastard because of selfish parents.”
Jack stiffened and pulled the stroller well back from the old woman. “I see that being inexcusably crass has nothing to do with age,” he snapped.
Melanie looked between him and her child, fighting the welling of tears.
The woman sniffed, then huffed out an indignant breath. “Well, it’s your own fault, you know. I won’t be the first—or the last to say it, either, young man. You ought to be thinking of this innocent child and not yourselves. Since you weren’t thinking of her when you made her.”
Melanie gasped, then grabbed the stroller and wheeled it away. Jack clenched his fists at his side and being an officer and a gentleman, refrained from telling
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