Surprised by Family: a Contemporary Romance Duet (11 page)

Before Baron could respond to this insight, Charlotte’s precarious control snapped. “No!” she cried in an extended wail. “Stay here with me! And... and... and Jane!”

After that, Leila could only follow details of the scene in a hassled blur. Charlotte refused to hear reason and refused to be comforted.

Leila’s voice soon took on a shrill note as she tried to handle the outburst with a semblance of control. She usually dealt with parenting issues better than this, but she couldn’t think of a thing to do at the moment.

“Just head out,” her father said, heaving himself up off the couch to make himself available to help, although things had spun out of control so quickly that there was little he could do at this point. “I’ll take care of it.”

“I can’t leave them with you like this,” Leila said, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice. She felt trapped by Baron’s presence, half-scared he would respond to this badly and half-anxious he would be judging her parenting techniques, which she wasn't comfortable having observed. Under normal circumstances, she would just go to another room and let Charlotte wail until she got tired or else tell her to stop and take away something fun if she refused.

Leila was on the edge of telling Charlotte she couldn’t watch the movie if she didn't quiet down, but that would ruin the whole evening for Jane and her father—both of whom had been looking forward to it.

Her nerves were even more frayed because the stoic expression on Baron’s face was growing more and more strained.

He wouldn’t be used to six-year-olds throwing tantrums.

“Should we just stay?” he finally asked Leila, turning away from the girls so they couldn’t hear him. A sheen of perspiration had broken out above his lip. Leila wasn’t surprised, since she was overly hot and hassled too.

Despite everything, she was a little touched by Baron's offer.

Leila shook her head—sure of that at least. She never thought she had perfect parenting skills, but one thing she’d managed to do was not reward bad behavior in the girls. “No, we can’t.”

Clearing her throat, she decided she had to do something other than watch in helpless dismay.

“Charlotte, you have to stop now.” Leila was pleased that her voice sounded basically calm and somewhat authoritative. “We don’t act this way when people have been nice to us. There’s no dessert for you tomorrow, and if you don’t start behaving right now, there won’t be any movie tonight.”

This warning finally had some effect. Charlotte quieted down, although she mumbled about how no one had been nice to her.

“Yes, people
have
been nice to you. Mr. James brought you those beautiful beads, and Grandpa came over special to watch the movie with you.”

“We can wear our necklaces and be pretty like Jasmine,” Jane offered. She’d been upset by her sister’s outburst and clearly wanted her happy again.

“Okay.” Charlotte didn’t look happy, but at least she’d stopped the tantrum. “If I’m good, can I still have dessert tomorrow?”

Leila shook her head. “I’m sorry, honey. You already lost your dessert.”

Before the girl could respond, Baron added, “I can come over sometime next week and help you build a much better castle—with a moat, a drawbridge, and two watchtowers.”

Jane pressed her hands together and gasped in excitement over this miraculous offer. And even Charlotte perked up. “Two watchtowers?” she asked.

“Two.”

“And a drawbridge.”

“Yes.”

“Next week?”

“Yes. Next week. As long as it’s all right with your mom.”

Four pairs of eyes focused on Leila—two hopeful, one amused, and Baron’s, which were absolutely unreadable.

“Yes, that’s fine. But you have to be really good tonight for Grandpa. Then Mr. James can come over next week to help you with your castle.”

Charlotte turned to Baron. “We have strawberries to eat tonight, but we should take off our necklaces so we don’t get strawberry juice on them and mess them up.”

Relieved that the storm was finally over, Leila was able to give her final instructions and kiss them all goodbye.

Then she walked down to the street with Baron in silence, let him help her into the back of the chauffeured car waiting at the curb, and collapsed against the back of the seat.

It wasn’t even seven in the evening, and she was hot, exhausted, and on the verge of tears.

And she was absolutely positive she’d have some damage control to do now with Baron.

“You look beautiful, by the way.” He slid into the seat beside her.

“Thanks,” she replied, unable to imagine that just twenty minutes ago she’d looked pretty and elegant. “I’m so sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“They’re usually pretty well-behaved. But they’re just six, and they get so excited when they see you. I guess our leaving so soon after you’d arrived was just too much.”

“It’s fine,” he said, with a dismissive half-shrug.

She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved by his casual dismissal or concerned by it. “I guess I should have just met you somewhere so they didn’t see you.” She brooded for a minute, trying to figure out a scenario where things would have gone more smoothly.

Then, to top everything off, she realized she was still wearing her glasses, which must completely ruin her entire ensemble.

“Leila, I said don’t worry about it.” Baron’s voice was a little sharper. So sharp, in fact, that she sucked in her breath and dropped her eyes.

“Okay,” she murmured, managing to make her voice convey ironic humor, even though his tone had upset her. “I’ll shut up and stop obsessing about it now.”

After a long moment of silence, Baron reached over and put a hand over hers in her lap. “Sorry.”

She looked up to meet his gaze. His expression was still unreadable, but something was a little softer in his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to sound harsh. I just don’t like you to worry so much. I’m not going to crack under the strain of a temper-tantrum.”

Leila choked on a laugh. That was exactly what she’d been afraid of, but the way he’d phrased it made her fears seem kind of silly. “Right,” she said, brightening up at the knowledge that he wasn’t about to retreat again. “But, seriously, you don’t have to come over and help them make a castle. I’m sure you’re swamped with work and everything.”

“I don’t mind. They’re good kids.” He shook his head and added, as if to himself, “And that castle needed a lot of help. It would have collapsed on the first wave of invaders.”

Leila was so distracted and harried that it took her a full minute to realize his bland, understated words were offered in humor. When what he’d said finally registered, she burst into sudden laughter and was warmed when he smiled in return.

Then, because she was laughing—and because she’d gotten so unreasonably upset about Charlotte’s outburst and Baron’s potential reaction—a tear slipped out of her eye as she laughed.

She wiped it away discreetly, hoping Baron hadn’t seen.

“Where are we going for dinner?” she asked, “Will we be late?”

“I made reservations at the Garden for six-forty-five,” Baron said. “But they’ll hold them for us.”

The Garden was a newly-opened Indian restaurant that no normal person could possibly get a table at. Normally, Leila would have been thrilled to go, but she knew their eating there would be an event. Everyone would see them. She would have the pressure of being Baron James’s date. She would have to be on her best behavior and wouldn’t be able to relax.

Then she’d have to sit through a three-hour opera.

Closing her eyes, she hoped she’d be able to make it through the evening.

“We can go somewhere else if you want,” he offered casually. “It doesn’t matter to me. There’s a little Italian place I like not far from here. It would be quieter and less of a scene, if that sounds better to you.”

Some of the tension eased in Leila’s chest. “That sounds good to me.”

“And, since we’re running late anyway, I wouldn’t mind missing the first half of the opera. The second part has all the big numbers anyway. We could show up at intermission if we’re running too late.”

Leila wanted to cry in relief. “Yeah. That sounds perfect.”

She wasn't sure if Baron was a little stressed after the incident at her house or if he'd seen that she was about to lose it. Or both. Either way, she was infinitely grateful for his change of plans.

They went to the Italian place. The owner knew Baron, gave them a quiet table in a corner, and brought out their drinks and food himself. Everything was excellent, and Leila didn’t feel put on display.

She drank three glasses of wine and had a wonderful time. She’d actually never interacted with Baron before when he was like this—witty, charming, dryly intelligent, and completely focused on her.

She liked him this way. She liked herself when she was with him this way. And she found him increasingly attractive—something that had only a little to do with how sleekly handsome he was in the tux.

It was after nine when they left the restaurant. Leila felt flushed, relaxed, and much more giggly than normal.

“We should be just about the right time for the intermission,” Baron said, glancing at his watch after he’d given his driver instructions.

Leila giggled, although nothing he’d just said had been funny. Her hand strayed to her face and she realized in surprise that she was still wearing her glasses. Why hadn’t she taken them off by now?

She did so. “I should have left these at home,” she murmured, opening her little clutch and trying to fit the glasses in between her cash, keys, lipstick, powder compact, and phone.

“Why?” Baron’s tone sounded genuinely curious.

“I wanted to look pretty.” She wasn’t sure how it had happened, but she and Baron were much closer on the seat than they’d been on the way to the restaurant. Their thighs brushed against each other’s.

A buzz of attraction and pleasure rose inside her as she stared at Baron’s handsome face and warm eyes.

“You do look pretty. I like you in the glasses.” He reached over and brushed her hot cheek with his knuckles.

Leila sucked in a breath and leaned her face into his hand. “Liar.”

Baron chuckled, and the vibrations from his laugh seemed to travel through his hand and all the way through Leila’s body. Arousal tightened between her legs.

“I do like them,” he said, his voice thicker than normal. “They make you look like Leila.”

She was ready when he tilted his head down toward her. She stretched up until their lips met. A wave of pleasure washed over her as they kissed. She reached up to cup his cheek with her hand, and he slid his palm up and down her back in a sensual caress.

She opened her mouth to his tongue, and her whole body hummed in response when she heard him groan deep in his throat.

It should have been a sweet, hot kiss and nothing more—but for some reason it spiraled into more than that far too quickly. After a minute, their embrace became more urgent and intimate than Leila would have expected. Baron’s body was tight and heated, and his hands were hungry and possessive. Leila couldn’t stop clawing at him, trying to feel him as much as she could, pleasure and need rushing through her in waves.

“Oh, God, Baron,” she gasped, when their lips broke apart and he mouthed his way down her neck. They needed to stop. This was getting out of control. But she couldn’t bear to pull away from his heat, his strength, the deliciously male, expensive scent of him, the need she could sense in his touch.

He moved his hands down to her hips and, before she knew what was happening, he’d adjusted her so she was straddling his lap. Her long skirt was in the way, but it had a high slit and Baron had managed to push it up enough to slide his hands up her legs to her thighs.

When he found the edge of her stockings, he made a guttural sound of approval.

Leila was so aroused now she was wet and throbbing a little. She moved in his lap, trying to get friction. When she felt he was starting to harden, one last flash of sense burst into her heated daze.

She tore her mouth away. “Wait, Baron, we have to stop.”

Baron dropped his hands at her words. He leaned against the seat, panting, flushed, and with glazed eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said, pulling herself off his lap, even though everything in her body cried out in resistance. “I’m so sorry. But we can’t. Not like this.”

“Right,” Baron said, his voice raspy and strained. “You’re right.”

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let it go so far. But I can’t... I mean, I want to, but I can’t take sex so lightly. Not anymore.”

“I know.” Baron rubbed his face, obviously trying to pull himself together. “I know that.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes as the car slowly crawled through city traffic. Eventually, both of them managed to get control of their arousal using whatever mental gymnastics happened to work for them.

“We’ve got to stop doing that,” he said at last, the corner of his mouth tilting up.

Leila was so relieved to see that little sign of humor that she giggled again, the rush of the alcohol and the giddiness of knowing that Baron wanted her so much rising up to lighten her spirits again. “I know. It’s like we’re horny teenagers or something—making out in the back of car.”