Читать книгу A Daddy For Baby Zoe? - Fiona Lowe - Страница 3

Raf lay on his back on the leather couch, fast asleep, with his long legs stretched out in front of him and his feet up on the armrest.

His grey cotton sweatpants sat low on his hips and his chest was utterly naked—except for her daughter, who was cuddled up against it, contentedly asleep. Zoe was anchored safely by the width of his broad hand and splayed fingers resting gently against her back. His breathing was full and slow, and as his chest rose and fell it took Zoe up and down with it like the rocking of a boat on a gentle swell.

It was a picture of strength and protection imbued with gentleness and care. A funny sensation wound through her chest before moving down to her stomach and then washing outwards, warming her from head to toe. It was the same sensation she’d experienced a few hours earlier, when Raf had wiped the tears from her cheek. A sensation that wasn’t entirely platonic.

The delicious warmth immediately turned into a brick of guilt, which sat hard in her chest. She’d come so close to touching his thumb with the tip of her tongue and she didn’t understand why. All she knew was that it was wrong on so many levels.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she rocked slowly back and forth on the balls of her feet and firmly put the fleeting zip of something that resembled desire down to exhaustion—physical and emotional. She was so wrung out by being mother and father to Zoe, trying to stay on top of everything, dealing with probate and the daunting task of untangling their messy financial situation, desperately missing Richard—missing being touched and loved—and feeling so very alone that her body was obviously confusing helpful friendship with something else and reacting to it.

It had to be that.