Читать книгу Daddyhood - Gayle Kaye, Gayle Kaye - Страница 10

Gabe inserted another candle into the pink cake frosting. “I baked this myself. Not bad for a beginner, huh?”

Sabrina glanced at the caved-in center of the cake in question, then up at him. “A few more birthdays and you’ll have it down pat.”

“You really think so?”

She gave him a slow smile. “No, but I think it’s nice that you tried. I’m sure Heather and Hannah will appreciate your efforts.”

He frowned. “So it’s not my best work. Check that drawer over there for a book of matches and I’ll light this thing.”

Sabrina slipped past him in the small kitchen and did as he asked. The man was a pushover for those two little girls, she thought. A real softy when it came to them—and she found that an admirable trait. Not that she had any business admiring his qualities.

She handed him the matches, and in minutes he had the candles lit and casting a warm glow against the pink frosting.

“Ready?” he asked, lifting the cake to carry it out to the party.

“Ready.”

“Can you handle the ice cream?”

“Almost as well as hot dog buns,” she teased back. Sabrina tried to tell herself she was not getting involved in this man’s domesticity, but she wasn’t so sure she believed it.

Before, she had always been able to keep her research impersonal. Her small subjects were just that— subjects, children she studied. She seldom involved herself with parents—and certainly not with single dads.

So how did she explain her presence here tonight?

Admittedly this was not her smartest move. And she wondered if it was Gabe, or the twins, who had been the lure.

Gabe got the birthday singing started, and by the time he set the cake in the center of the table, the song was in full swing, not to mention, off-key.

Sabrina tried unobtrusively to observe the twins. The two were competitive, both with their playmates and with each other. She suspected Gabe seldom got a moment’s peace.

Keep your focus on the siblings, not on their toohandsome father, she reminded herself sharply.

The girls made a wish, their eyes squeezed tightly shut in determination, then blew out the candles, each trying to take center stage as they did so. Her careful research that always showed one twin as the dominant child seemed to suffer in this household. Both girls had strong personalities. Like their father?

Her thoughts got interrupted when Gabe started the assembly-line process of cake slices then ice cream. She quickly picked up the carton to scoop out the cherry-vanilla treat.

“Small amount for small child, bigger amount for big child,” Gabe informed her.

She arrowed a sharp glance at him. “Thanks, but I think I can figure that out for myself.”

The two little girls were eyeing her with keen anticipation. “Can I have the first piece, Dr. S’brina?”

“No, me!” begged the other twin.

Sabrina had lost track of which child was which soon after she’d arrived, something she felt badly about. Gabe could have made this easier had he not dressed the two alike.

She smiled at their rivalry. “Since you both are birthday girls, how about we do this at the same time,” she said and held out a plate to each.

The two glanced at each other, then back at the plates Sabrina offered. “Okay,” they chorused.

Gabe leaned toward her, his voice low, teasing. “You handled that well. If you ever decide to give up psychology, I see a brilliant future for you as a diplomat.”

“Thank you, but I don’t intend to give up psychology anytime soon.”

No, he doubted that she would. In Gabe’s opinion Sabrina Moore was a very aloof lady who believed in her research theories. He’d bet his last dollar that work came first with her.

Did she always hold her feelings in? Let anyone get close to her? What about a social life? He had to admit he was curious.

Did she kick up her heels once in a while? Or bury her nose in some boring data? Did she have a lover, a man who held her in his arms and nibbled on her neck the way he’d been tempted to do all evening?

He’d caught his gaze straying toward her more than it should, taking in her slender waist, the curve of her derriére in the skinny black skirt she wore, the creamy expanse of her throat that her green, open-necked blouse didn’t hide. But what trapped his attention and held it was the shape of her pretty mouth. No woman should have a mouth like that without declaring it a lethal weapon. How could a man fight against the temptation of its slightly pouty shape? Resist its lure? He had no doubt that he’d see it in his restless sleep tonight—and probably for a few nights to come.

Gabe glanced up to see a little boy of about three peering over the edge of the table, awaiting his piece of cake. Behind him were four more kids of varying sizes. Sabrina was eyeing him, too.

“You’re slowing up the show,” she said, a gleam of humor in her sultry green eyes.

“Uh, sorry.” He cut the little shaver an extralarge piece.

“Small kid, small amount,” Sabrina whispered in rebuke.

“The kid has an appetite.”

“Yeah, right.” She added a scoop of ice cream to the plate Gabe handed her, a more…manageable scoop for the boy.

When the last child was served, and a few second helpings given out, Gabe and Sabrina got their chance to try the dessert.

“Mmm. This is good,” she said, sampling a bite of the cake. “I don’t even taste the sunken center.”

“I wasn’t aware sunken centers had a distinctive flavor,” he countered.

He’d arched one eyebrow, but a smile played at his lips. For one studious moment Sabrina wondered what it would be like to feel his mouth on hers— hard, persuasive, totally distracting. Gabe was a dynamic man, one any woman would have difficulty resisting.

Herself included?

She glanced away, back to the party plate in front of her. “Actually I think it’s nice you did this for your daughters,” she said softly.

“Yeah, well…I hope you don’t mind I roped you into this evening.”

“I’ll work hard to forgive you.” She smiled. “Besides, I’m enjoying myself. And the twins. Very much.”

His gaze swept her face. “Personally speaking or professionally?” he asked.

For a quick moment she didn’t know how to answer. A blush crept up her neck. She’d just been fantasizing about the feel of his lips, their taste and what his kiss would do to her. But that was not the reason she was here. Gabe Lawrence had challenged her theories, her work…and just possibly who and what she was.

And she needed to remember that.

She lifted her chin. “Professionally,” she answered.

Gabe was still considering her matter-of-fact response as the party wound down. It was still on his mind as he sent the last child home, birthday balloon and party favor in hand. The lady was keeping this evening in cool perspective.

But what about his reasons for inviting her in the first place? Had it been merely a challenge? Or a misguided desire to know more about the woman who fascinated him just a little too much? How pure had his intentions really been?

And how pure were they now?

He found Sabrina in the kitchen, her silken brown hair falling forward over one shoulder as she leaned close to the twins. Hannah held her captivated, showing her one of her birthday gifts—a new Barbie doll.

Gabe wondered what she would think about the last doll’s demise.

“Sorry to break up this little discussion, but I know two girls who should be ready for dreamland.”

Hannah and Heather were quick to voice their objections.

“But, Dad, we’re showing Dr. S’brina what we got for our birthday,” Heather announced.

“We’ll go to bed later,” Hannah said as if she were the one to make that decision.

Gabe hid a smile. He hated being tough on the girls, but it would take them forever to wind down after their day’s excitement.

And he very much wanted to spend some time with Sabrina.

“No way,” he said to his little princesses. “It’s off to bed with you. Hands and faces washed, then into your pj’s,” he ordered. “Think you can handle that?”

Heather gave a long-suffering sigh. “Dad—we’re not babies.”

“Of course not.”

He met Sabrina’s gaze. She’d been observing his interplay with the twins with a keen-eyed psychologist’s interest, but there was a smile on her face. For one dangerous moment he wondered how hard it would be to separate the woman from the intellectual.

He cursed the part of himself that wanted to try.

Sabrina was tempting, but she’d have to remain just that—a temptation. His little girls were his first priority these days.

“Will you stay and say g’night to us, Dr. S’brina?” Heather asked.

“Please,” echoed Hannah.

Sabrina glanced down into the faces of the two little angels, then up at their handsome father. She’d stayed far too long as it was, far longer than she’d intended. Longer than she should.

Gabe wore a glint of a smile. Was he asking her to stay, as well?

“Say yes! Say yes!” The girls tugged on her sleeve and Sabrina laughed softly.

How could she refuse the two little look-alikes?

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll stay until you’re ready for bed. Then I do have to go.”

When the twins disappeared down the hallway, she turned to Gabe. “Want me to give you a hand with this party mess?” The kitchen could only be termed a disaster. The patio was not much better.

“Not on your life. I’ll deal with the mess later. You’ve helped out enough this evening, considering I got you here under false pretenses.”

He had done that, Sabrina thought. Baited her into it. “I think you made your point effectively tonight,” she said quietly.

He arched a brow. “And what point is that?”

She gave a slow smile. “That possibly I don’t know all there is to know about twins.” At least his twins. “You’ve seemed to jump into this with both feet, theories be damned.”

His eyebrow arched higher. “Is that a concession speech I hear?”

“Don’t push your luck, Gabe Lawrence!”

He chuckled long and hard. “Come on, let’s get away from this party mess. Care for a cold beer to wash down the taste of pink birthday punch?”

She shook her head. “Thanks, but no.”

“Wine? I have a chilled bottle.”

Sabrina didn’t intend to stay that long. “Nothing. Thank you.”

“Suit yourself.”

He led her into the living room she’d glimpsed when she’d arrived. Here, at least, was relative neatness, an orderliness that was a sharp counterpoint to the chaos in his kitchen.

Sabrina turned around, taking in the room.

She read a definite male influence in the navy plaid sofa and two overstuffed chairs that looked comfy enough to sink into. A fireplace of red brick stood at the far end. She could picture Gabe here, reading a book to his daughters before a cheery blaze.

It was an image she liked.

Walking over to the mantel she picked up a framed photograph of the twins. “At the risk of hearing you hoot with laughter once again, explain to me how you tell the two apart.”

To his credit he only gave one small—and shortlived—smirk. He folded his arms over his chest and came to stand next to her, so close, she could feel the heat of him, smell the clean male scent of his aftershave. This near she could see there were silver flecks that danced in the deep blue of his eyes. His mouth had a sensual fullness that tugged at her senses. She suspected his kiss would be hot, not tempered with restraint. He was a man who would demand much of a woman—everything from her.

He reached for the picture and their hands brushed. His touch was warm, dangerous. “It’s easy, once you know how,” he said.

“Easy?”

“Hannah has a little quirk to her smile. See?” He pointed to the picture.

Sabrina studied the pose and saw what he meant.

It was a smile she’d seen before—on Gabe. She wondered if he was aware of the similarity he shared with his daughter.

“And when the twins aren’t smiling, what then?” she asked.

“I try to keep this a…happy little family.”

A hint of laughter lit his eyes. In the soft livingroom light they radiated intelligence, a perception of who he was and what he wanted from life. He would command a woman’s soul, as well as her heart, Sabrina thought.

The realization crossed her mind that she needed to beware.

He set the picture back on the oak mantel. “Once you get to know the twins, you’ll find other differences. Hannah’s laughter is bright, Heather’s a little slower in coming. Hannah tilts her head to the right when she’s listening to you. Heather tucks one foot behind the other when she’s feeling a little… uncertain.”

The two had only recently lost their mother. Yes, they would be a little hesitant, a little uncertain, Sabrina thought. But she suspected Gabe Lawrence was a good dad, though she had the feeling he didn’t always consider himself to be. She felt, also, that she’d gotten a rare glimpse of the girls through their father’s eyes.

Just then Hannah and Heather bounded into the room, pajamas on, faces scrubbed. One—Heather, judging by the hesitant smile—still had her hair bow in. Gabe unclipped it and tousled her hair.

Was it her professional eye that made her so aware of the relationship this small family shared with each other? For a moment she felt a pang of something akin to jealousy. Once upon a time she’d wanted this for herself. Her career, a husband, children. That was until her marriage to Phillip fell apart.

Stick with what you do best, Sabrina, she told herself.

“Will you read us a story from the new book Dad gave us for our birthday?” Heather asked.

Sabrina caught the little girl’s gesture just as Gabe had described it—one foot tucked behind the other, uncertainty evident on her small, cherubic face.

Life had taught Sabrina to go slowly into relationships—or stay away from them altogether—but Gabe’s twin daughters tugged at her resolve, and a few heartstrings, drawing her where she was afraid to go.

“If it’s all right with your dad, just a short one,” she said and glanced from Heather to her father, who was leaning a shoulder against the mantel, amusement lining his face.

He thought she couldn’t do this—and he was enjoying it. His laughing eyes challenged her, much the way he’d challenged her theories yesterday afternoon.

But Sabrina intended to show him she was made of sterner stuff.

Well, what had Gabe expected!

The two little girls had taken to Sabrina like ducks to water. The woman with all the answers—or so she thought.

He paced up and down the living room, hands jammed into his pockets, feeling very much like his little experiment of the night had backfired on him, blown up in his face. He’d wanted to show the lady psychologist up for the fraud that she was. But Sabrina had been a good sport.

She’d held her own all evening. Even reading a bedtime story to his little girls.

But did she have to be so all-fired lovely in the bargain? So tempting? He was certain she would have him thumping his pillow, the vision of those sultry eyes and that wide, sensual smile of hers playing on the inside of his eyelids until the first light of day.

From the twins’ bedroom he heard the lilt of her voice. Not the words, but the rhythmic cadence, occasionally her soft laugh. He had the feeling that reading to two little girls was a first for the standoffish Dr. Moore.

He’d caught her looking overwhelmed more than once during the evening. As if out of her element. Not that he couldn’t feel a moment of sympathy for her. He could.

After all, this whole parent thing was still very new to him.

Which was exactly why he didn’t need one pretty woman muddling his life, he thought with a groan. And he had the feeling that Sabrina Moore could do just that, given half a chance.

“Gabe.”

He stopped his pacing and spun around to meet Sabrina’s green-eyed gaze.

The soft light played around her face, dancing across her high cheekbones that were brushed with a faint hint of peach. Her lips glowed with the same peach hue. He stared, fascinated, as she nervously moistened them with the tip of her tongue.

Did she know how incredibly sexy that gesture was?

What it did to him?

He dragged a hand through his hair and struggled for his voice. “Don’t tell me you got the twins successfully bedded down on the first try,” he said, his words coming out surprisingly steady. It was more than he felt on the inside.

Sabrina smiled. “They tried to egg me into one more story, but I resisted the little charmers.”

“Good,” he said, taking a step closer. “I wouldn’t want them to get spoiled or anything.”

One soft, winged eyebrow arched attractively. “As a student of child behavior, I have to tell you it may already be too late for that, Gabe Lawrence.”

He laughed.

Sabrina met his gaze. “While you’re in a good mood, I have something I want to ask you,” she said, her voice hesitant.

“Yeah, what’s that?”

She studied his features, trying to decide how best to phrase her request.

His mouth curved up in a slow smile, his stance easy, one elbow resting against the mantel, his blue eyes probing her softly.

Sabrina drew in a steadying breath. “I would like your permission to study the girls.”

“What?”

“Their personalities, behavior modes, adaptability to the changes in their life—”

“No!”

While she’d been explaining, Gabe’s features had hardened. The sapphire of his eyes took on the color of an impending storm. In contrast, an enraged mountain lion looked tamer.

Sabrina took an instinctive step backward. “Perhaps I didn’t explain well.”

“On the contrary,” he said. “I’m sure I understood you perfectly.”

Sabrina wasn’t so sure that was true. “It would be a harmless little project. The twins would do what they do naturally and I would—”

“Dissect their every action, their every word.”

She blinked at his interpretation of what she did on a daily basis, her scientific methodology. “You make it sound so—”

“Cold?”

“I was going to say…disciplined.”

“A softer word for the same thing,” he returned, not giving an inch in his demeanor. He dragged a hand through his hair. “Those two little girls have been through a lot lately. They lost their mother,” he bit out. “All they have is each other. And a single dad who’s desperately trying to do the work of two parents.”

“Precisely why I want to do this study,” she said determinedly.

She wasn’t unsympathetic to the girls’ loss. Sabrina knew what the death of a parent could do to children. It was never easy to lose a mother—and her heart went out to the two little girls.

She would never do anything that would harm them or cause them pain. And she hated it that Gabe thought she might, however unintentionally.

On occasion Sabrina had had other parents refuse her—and that was their right, of course. Her research was important—but not if there was a price to pay.

She felt Gabe’s gaze bore into her with the coldness of a laser beam, his shoulders squared, as if for battle.

“My work could be invaluable, a benefit both to Hannah and Heather, as well as for other children. Please tell me you’ll at least think about it,” she said as her final salvo.

With that she turned and started toward the front door.

“Sabrina.”

She paused near the entry. She would almost think he’d reconsidered—except that she remembered the hard glint in his blue eyes and knew he hadn’t changed his mind.

Still she turned around.

“I know what’s best for the twins,” he said flatly.

Sabrina drew in a breath. “Of course,” she answered, and let herself out through the front door.

Gabe heard the decisive shut of the door and knew she was gone. He pounded on the mantel. Hannah and Heather had been doing so well, settling in here with him, making new friends. They’d begun to feel like a family together, which was what Gabe wanted for them all.

Oh, there were still times, sometimes late at night, when the twins cried for their mother, not fully understanding why she couldn’t be there with them, why she couldn’t hold them or kiss away their pain.

That was when Gabe would hold them, brushing away their tears, smoothing back their curls with his big ungentle hands and telling them everything would be all right, when he knew, without their mother, that would never totally be true.

Gabe went in to say good-night to his daughters and found them snuggled into the sheets on their big double bed. Their world was still too fragile for Sabrina to upset it.

But he wasn’t sure she understood that.

He probably owed her some sort of apology for barking at her the way he had. Her research was important, he supposed. But Gabe just wasn’t sure he dared risk two vulnerable little girls to whatever study the scientific Dr. Moore had in mind.

She’d asked him to at least consider what she’d proposed, and short of an apology, he supposed he could give her request a fair consideration.