Black Rose (In the Garden 2)

He'd never heard that tone in her voice before, hadn't known it could soften like that, like fragrant wax unde

r low heat. Nor had he expected her to dote, as she so obviously doted, on a child.

She talked nonsense, cooed, laughed, made the silly noises adults habitually made around babies and, from the sounds of Lily's response, made the baby as happy as the sitter.

It was another angle to a woman he'd seen as formidable, confident, a little aloof, and oddly direct. All those facets had already combined into a woman he found smoothly sexy. Now this . . . softness, he supposed, was a surprising icing on an already desirable cake.

He heard her laugh, a long, lovely roll, and gave up even the pretense of working.

He heard the music and banging of toys, the child's burbling and giggles, and the undiluted pleasure in the woman's voice. Later, he heard her singing as she rocked the baby to sleep.

Soon after, he heard her murmured words, her quiet sigh, then the monitor was silent.

He sighed himself, sorry the interlude was over. Then reaching for his coffeepot, found it empty. Again.

He carried it into the kitchen to brew another pot, and was just measuring out the coffee when Roz came in.

"Hi," he said. "Be out of your way in a minute. David said I should just make myself coffee whenever. "

"Of course. I was about to make use of the cold cuts he put together earlier, if you'd like something to eat. "

"I would, thanks. He mentioned there'd be makings when he showed me where I could find what I needed for coffee. And . . . " He widened his eyes as Roz took out the tray, the bowls. "I see he meant it. "

"He's constantly afraid I'll starve to death if he doesn't leave me enough food for six people. " She glanced over. "And?"

"Sorry?"

"You started to say something else? Regarding David?"

"Oh well, just that I think he was hitting on me. "

She got long, fresh rolls from the bread drawer. "Not very hard, I'm sure. "

"No, not hard. Just . . . charmingly actually. "

"I hope you weren't offended. "

"No, I was, well, sort of flattered, really. Considering the age difference. "

"He likes the way you look in your glasses. "

"In my . . . what?"

"Horn-rims. They just turn him to mush, apparently. You want me to just pile everything on here, or would you rather pick and choose?"

"Just pile, thanks. I appreciate it. "

"It's no trouble as I'm making some for myself as it is. " She looked up sharply, as a voice, Amelia's voice, began to sing through the monitor.

"It's a jolt, isn't it?" Mitch said. "Every time. "

"She doesn't go into Lily's room every night, not like she did with the boys. She favors boys. I suppose she knows Hayley's out, and wants to . . . "

She trailed off, her fingers fumbling, as they rarely did, with the sandwiches as she recalled the monitor in the library. And her own session with Lily.

"I hadn't thought about the monitor where you were working, disturbing you. "

"It didn't - you didn't - in the least. "