“That’s not true, though, is it?” I brush the wildness of her hair from her face, run my hand over her shoulder, my other hand pressed into the wall by her head. “You didn’t ask me to leave. Ask me not to look.”
Jesus, I haven’t enjoyed a breakfast like this in a long time, even if my usual appetite runs to the kind of breakfast in bed that doesn’t come until I tell her to and certainly never involves orange juice. A breakfast in bed, yes, but with more body parts and a lot less talking
“I-I said a gentleman wouldn’t look.” Her dark gaze slides from mine. She knows the way she’d implied I was no gentleman in sultry, husky tones isn’t the same as screaming bloody murder and yelling for me to get out.
“But it wasn’t a gentleman you were interested in. It was me. I think it’s still me.” I settle my hand on her pyjama-clad hip as I angle my head. “You liked me looking at you, just like the girl in Saint Odile. You look at me as though you were about to—”
“This is madness. You’re mad.” She lifts her chin, her fiery gaze two narrow slits. But she’s not fooling either of us. “You should wipe that smile off your face.”
“Why don’t you do it for me?” With your mouth. With your kiss.
“I insult you, and you smile?”
“I’ve been told I have a winning smile.”
“I’m sure you don’t need my compliments.”
“But I’m open to them.”
“Who are you?” Her eyes widen a touch as though no one has ever sparred with her. Wanted her. As though no one has ever hung on to her every word.
“I’m Uncle Carson. Didn’t you hear?”
“I wonder if Rose knows Uncle Carson sometimes orders in from time to time,” she says, changing tack.
“Are you implying I look like the kind of man who needs to pay for sex, angel?”
“Let me go,” she answers, but there’s little conviction in her words.
“Tell me the truth. You like me looking at you . . . touching you.”
She turns her head, exposing the elegant column of her neck as she presses her hands to my chest. “Stop playing with me.”
“Who’s playing?”
“Just stop. Please stop.” Her fingers curl in the soft cotton at my next words.
“I’ve never forgotten you.” As our eyes meet, her gaze is full of such longing that it almost knocks me off my feet. She tightens her grip, her soft sigh a blowing against my cheek, our lips drawing closer as though magnetised. “I would’ve drunk your bathwater just to get a taste.”
Her breath hitches and—
“Eww, that’s disgusting!”
We spring apart, Fee’s eyes suddenly wide with panic.
“Uncle Carson, didn’t your mummy ever tell you that you can only play pretend in the bath? No drinking the water. It’s no howgienic.” Lulu’s gaze turns suspicious as she plants one hand on her non-existent hip. “What were you two just doing?”
“Nothing,” Fee answers quickly. “We weren’t doing anything. Why? What were you doing?”
“I went to the bafroom.” I don’t fail to feel the weight of Lulu’s attention zoning in on me, even if I am currently looking at her over my shoulder. No need to invite questions about why I have a tent pole in my pants. “Were you trying to kiss my mummy?”
Yes, yes, I was. Item number one on my new wish list.
“My goodness, whatever makes you think that?” Not only does Fee’s response sound a little manic, but so does her burst of forced laughter. “Carson was just telling me a secret.” Her mother’s manic smile doesn’t appear to fool the kid. “Weren’t you?” she demands, her gaze swinging to me.
“I’m not sure it was a secret.” I don’t bother to bite back a sly grin.
“Oh! Look at the time. Time to go to the park!” Still using the same overly bright tone, she skirts around me and my hard-on.
I grab a towel as I turn and notice the kid eyeballing me suspiciously.
“Come on, sweetie. I think we should go and get dressed.” Taking her hand, she almost drags the kid from the room.
Damn. You can’t blame a man for hoping things would’ve moved in the other direction.
9
Fee
“Mummy, I think New York is famazing.”
“Famazing?” I call after her as she skips a couple of steps ahead.
“Yes. Fabulous and amazing,” she says, throwing her arms wide. “Can Uncle Carson come with us next time?”
Uncle Carson. Only I would get myself into a situation like this. I had zero intention of being there when he woke this morning. I thought for sure I’d be out of the apartment before he even raised his head. And I would’ve been too, if I hadn’t spent the night thinking about him and then slept through my bloody alarm. And now I can’t help but replay his questions over and over again in my head, and the way he looked at Lu. Which wasn’t exactly like he was ready to run for the hills.