Bound By A Baby

The woman looked her up and down, taking in her faded jeans, blue suede boots and windblown hair before asking, “What are you doing?”

Tula dug into her purse and pulled a roll of gold-and-black autographed copy stickers that she always carried with her. “I’m the author and I thought since I was here I would just sign your stock, if that’s all right.”

She had never had trouble before. Usually bookstores liked having signed copies of the books on the shelves to help with sales.

“You’re Tula Barrons?” Barbara asked with a wide grin. “That’s wonderful! My daughter loves your books and I can tell you they sell very well for us here in the store.”

“I’m always glad to hear that,” Tula said and hurried her signature as Nathan started to fuss.

“You live locally?” Barbara asked.

“Temporarily,” Tula told her and felt a slight wince inside at the admission. She didn’t know how long she would be staying in the city, but she was already dreading having to leave both Nathan and Simon.

“Would you be interested in doing a signing here at the store?” the woman asked. “We could set it up for you to do a reading at the same time. I think the kids would love it.”

“Uh,” Tula hedged, not sure if she should agree or not. Normally, she would have, of course. But now that she had Nathan to worry about…

“Please consider it,” Barbara urged, looking around the children’s area at the brightly colored floor rugs, the tiny tables and chairs. “I know most authors hate doing signings, but I can promise you a success! Your books are very popular here and I know the children would get a big kick out of meeting the woman who writes the Lonely Bunny stories.”

Tula followed her gaze and looked at the dozen or so kids sprinkled around the area, each of them lost in the wonders of a book. Yes, her life was a little up in the air at the moment, but a couple hours of her time wasn’t that much of a sacrifice, was it?

“I’d love to,” she finally said.

“That’s great,” Barbara replied. “If you’ll just give me a number where I can reach you, we’ll set something up. How does three weeks sound?”

“It’s fine,” Tula told her. While Barbara went to get a pad and pen to take down her information, Tula told herself that in three weeks, she might be back living in Crystal Bay. Alone. That would mean a drive into the city for the signing, but if she was gone from Simon’s life, she would at least be able to stop in and see Nathan while she was here.

Her heart ached at the thought. That baby had become so much a part of her life and world already, she couldn’t even imagine being nothing more than a casual visitor to him. She put the signed book back on the shelf, walked to the front of the stroller and went down to her knees.

Running her fingers across the baby’s soft cheek, she looked into brown eyes so much like his father’s it was eerie and said, “What will I do without you, Nathan? If I lose you now, you won’t even remember me, will you?”

He laughed and kicked his legs, turning his head this way and that, taking in all the primary colors and the bright lights.

Her already aching heart began to tear into pieces as she realized that Nathan would never know how much she loved him. Or how much it hurt to think of not being a part of his life.

She’d agreed to be the baby’s guardian for her cousin Sherry’s sake. But Tula had had no idea then that doing the right thing was going to one day destroy her.

Simon got home early the following day and no one was there to appreciate it.

Damned if he’d be so boring that Tula could set her watch—if she had the organizational skills to wear one—by him. He was still fuming over her monologue the night before, ticking off his daily routine and making him sound as exciting as a moldy rock.

In response, Simon had been shaking up his routine all day long. He had gone through the flagship of the Bradley department stores, stopping to chat with clerks. He’d personally talked to the managers of the departments, instead of sending Mick to do it. He had even helped out in the stockroom, walking a new employee through the inventory process.

His employees had been surprised at his personal interest in what was happening with the store. But he had also noted that everyone he talked with that day was pleased that he’d taken the extra time to listen to them. To really pay attention to what was happening.

Simon couldn’t imagine why he hadn’t done it years ago. He was so accustomed to running his empire from the sanctity of his office, he’d nearly forgotten about the thousands of employees who depended on him.

Of course, Mick had ribbed him about his sudden aversion to routine.

“This new outlook on life wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain children’s book author, would it?”

Simon glared at him. “Butt out.”

“Ha! It does.” Mick followed him out the door and down the hall to the elevator. “What did she say that got to you?”

He was just aggravated enough by what Tula had had to say the night before that he told Mick everything. He finished by saying, “She ticked off my day hour by hour, on her fingers, damn it.”

Mick laughed as the elevator doors swept closed and Simon stabbed the button for the ground floor of the department store. “Wish I’d seen your face.”

“Thanks for the support.”

“Well come on, Simon,” Mick said, still chuckling. “You’ve got to admit you’ve dug yourself a pretty deep rut over the years.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a tight schedule.”

Mick leaned against the wall. “As long as you allow yourself some room to breathe.”

“You’re on her side?”

Grinning, Mick said, “Absolutely.”

Grumbling under his breath at the memory, Simon stalked up the stairs, haunted by the now unnatural silence. For years, he’d come home to the quiet and had relished it. Now after only a few days of having Tula and the baby in residence…the silence was claustrophobic. Made him feel as if the walls were closing in on him.

“Ridiculous. Just enjoy the quiet while you’ve got it,” he muttered. At the head of the stairs, he headed down the hall toward his room, but paused in front of the nursery. The baby wasn’t there, but the echo of him remained in the smell of powder and some indefinable scent that was pure baby.

He stepped inside and let his gaze slide across the stacked shelves filled with neatly arranged diapers, toys and stuffed animals. He smiled to himself and inspected the closet as well. Inside hung shirts and jackets, clustered by color. Tiny shoes were lined up like toy soldiers on the floor below.

In the dresser, he knew he would find pajamas, shorts, pants, socks and extra bedding. A colorful quilt lay across the end of the crib and a small set of bookshelves boasted alphabetically arranged children’s books.

Tula might thrive in chaos herself, he mused, but here in the baby’s room, peace reigned. Everything was tidy. Everything was calm and safe and…perfect. He’d had a crew in to paint the room a neutral beige with cream-colored trim, but Tula had pronounced it too boring to spark the baby’s inner creativity. It hadn’t taken her long to have pictures of unicorns and rainbows on the walls, or to hang a mobile of primary-colored stars and planets over the crib.

Shaking his head, Simon sat down in the cushioned rocker and idly reached to pull one of the books off the shelves. Lonely Bunny Finds a Garden.

“Lonely Bunny,” he read aloud with a sigh. Now that he’d heard her story, he could imagine Tula as a lonely little girl with wide blue eyes, trying to make friends with a solitary rabbit. He frowned, thinking about how her mother had so callously treated her daughter’s fears.

He was feeling for Tula. Too much.

Opening the book, Simon read the copyright page and stopped. Her name was listed as Tula Barrons Hawthorne.

He frowned as his memory clicked into high gear, shuffling back to when he was dating Nathan’s mother, Sherry. He remembered now. She had been living here in the city then and she’d told him that her uncle was in the same business as Simon.

“Jacob Hawthorne.” Simon inhaled slowly, deeply, and felt old anger churn in the pit of his stomach.

Jacob Hawthorne had been a thorn in his side for years. The man’s chain of discount department stores was forever vying for space that Simon wanted for his own company. Just three years ago, Jacob had cheated Simon out of a piece of prime property in the city that Simon had planned to use for expansion of his flagship store.

That maneuver had cost Simon months in terms of finding another suitable property for expansion.

Not to mention the fact that Jacob had bought up several of the Bradley department stores when Simon’s father was busily running the company into the ground. The old man had taken advantage of a bad situation and made it worse. Hell, he’d nearly succeeded in getting his hands on the Bradley home.

By the time Simon had taken over the family business, it was in such bad shape he’d spent years rebuilding.

Jacob Hawthorne was ruthless. The old pirate ran his company like a feudal lord and didn’t care who he had to steamroll to get his own way.

At the time Simon had briefly dated Sherry, he’d enjoyed the thought of romancing a member of Hawthorne’s family, knowing the old coot would have been furious if he’d known. But Sherry’s own clingy instability had ended the relationship quickly. Now, though, he had a son with the woman—which made his child a relative of Jacob Hawthorne.

There was a bitter pill to choke down. And he figured it would be even harder for the old pirate to swallow it. But there was more, too. If Sherry and Tula were cousins, then Tula was also a relative of Jacob Hawthorne. Interesting. But before his thoughts could go any further, his cell phone rang.

“Bradley.”

“Simon, it’s Dave over at the lab.”

He tensed. This was the call he’d been waiting for for days. The results of the paternity test were in. He would finally know for sure, one way or the other.

“And?” he asked, not wanting to waste a moment on small talk when something momentous was about to happen.

“Congratulations,” his old friend said, a smile in his tone. “You’re a father.”

Everything in Simon went still.

There was a sense of rightness settling over him even as an unexpected set of nerves shook through him. He was a father. Nathan was really his.

“You’re sure?” he asked, moving his gaze around the room, seeing it now with fresh eyes. His son lived here. “No mistakes?”

“Trust me on this. I ran the test twice myself. Just to be sure. The baby’s yours.”

“Thanks, Dave,” he said, tossing the book onto the nearby tabletop and standing up. “I appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

When his friend hung up, Simon just stared down at his phone. No problem?

Oh, he could think of a few.

Such as what to do about the woman who was making him insane. The very woman who stood between him and custody of his son.

Seven

Tula knew something was different, she just couldn’t put her finger on what it was exactly. Ever since she and Nathan had returned from their walk, Simon had been…watching her. Not that he hadn’t looked at her before, but there was something more in his gaze now. Something hungry, yet wary.

There was a strained sense of anticipation hanging over the beautiful house that only added to the anxiety she had been feeling for days. She was on edge. As though there were tightened wires inside her getting ready to snap.

Just being around Simon was difficult now. As it had been ever since that kiss. He made her want too much. Need too much. And now, with those dark eyes locked on her and heat practically rolling off of him in waves, she could hardly draw a breath.

She made it through dinner and through Nathan’s bath time and was about to read the baby his nightly story. Oh, she knew the baby didn’t understand the words or what the stories meant, but she enjoyed the quiet time with him and felt that Nathan liked hearing the soft soothing tones of her voice as he fell asleep. Before she could begin, Simon walked into the nursery.

Tula smiled in spite of the coiled, unspoken strain between them. For the first time, he was inviting himself to Nathan’s nightly ritual. “Hi.”

“I thought I’d join you tonight.” Simon looked at her for a long moment, then shifted his gaze to the tiny boy in the crib. Slowly, he walked across the floor and Tula sensed that she was witnessing something profound. Simon’s features were taut, his eyes unreadable. There was a careful solicitude in his attitude she’d never seen before.

Leaning over the crib, Simon looked down at the boy in the pale blue footed jammies as if really seeing him for the first time.

“Simon?” she asked quietly, as if hesitant to break whatever spell was spinning out into the room. “What is it? You’ve been weird all night. Is something wrong?”

He shifted a quick look at her before turning his gaze back on Nathan. The baby stared up at him, then rubbed his eyes and sighed sleepily.

“Wrong?” Simon echoed in a thick hush of sound. “No. Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s right. I got the paternity test results this afternoon.”

She sucked in a breath of air. Of course, from the beginning, she had known that Simon was Nathan’s father. Sherry wouldn’t have lied about something like that. But Tula could understand that Simon, a demon for rules and order and logic, would have to wait to be convinced.

“And?” she prompted.

“He’s my son.” Three words, spoken with a sort of dazed wonder that sent a flutter of something warm racing along her spine.

He reached into the crib and cupped one side of Nathan’s face in the palm of his hand. The baby smiled up at him and Simon’s eyes went soft, molten with emotions too deep to speak. Tula watched it all and felt her own heart melt as a man recognized his son for the very first time.

Seconds ticked past and still it was as if the world had taken a breath and held it. As if the planet had stopped spinning and the population of the earth had been reduced to just the three of them.

This small moment was somehow so intense, so important, that the longer it went on the more Tula felt like an outsider. An intruder on a private scene. That thought hurt far more than she would have thought it could.

For weeks now, she alone had been the baby’s entire universe. When she was forced to share Nathan with Simon, she was still the central figure because Nathan’s father was, if nothing else, a stubborn man. Determined to hold himself emotionally apart even while making room in his life for the boy. Now she saw that Simon had accepted the truth. He knew Nathan was his and he would be determined to have his son for himself.

As it should be, Tula reminded herself, despite the pain ratcheting up in the center of her chest. This was what Sherry had wanted—that Nathan would know his father. That Simon and his son would make a family.

A family, she told herself sadly, of two.

With that thought echoing over and over through her mind, Tula stepped back from the crib, intending to leave the two of them alone. But Simon reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her to a stop.

“Don’t go.”

She looked up at him. The room was dark but for the night-light that projected constellations of stars onto the ceiling. In the dim glow of those stars, she watched his eyes and shook her head. “Simon, you should have a minute alone with Nathan. It’s okay.”

“Stay, Tula.” His voice was low, hardly more than a dark rumble of sound.

“Simon…”

He pulled her closer until he could wrap one arm around her shoulders. Then he turned her toward the crib and they both looked down at the boy who had fallen asleep. There would be no story tonight. Nathan’s tiny features were perfect, the picture of innocence. His small hands were flung up over his head, his fingers curling and relaxing as if in his dreams he was playing catch with the angels.

“He’s beautiful,” Simon whispered.

Tula’s throat tightened even further. It was a miracle, she thought, that she could even breathe past the hard knot of emotion clogging her throat. “Yes, he is.”

“I knew he was mine, right from the first,” he admitted. “But I had to be sure.”

“I know.”

He turned his head to look down at her. Emotions charged his eyes with sparks that dazzled her. “I want my son, Tula.”

“Of course you do.” Her heart cracked a little further. He would have Nathan and she would have…Lonely Bunny.

“I want you, too,” he admitted.

“What?” Jolted out of her private misery, she could only stare up into brown eyes that shimmered with banked heat. This she hadn’t seen coming. She hadn’t expected. Something inside her woke up and shivered. Was he saying…

“Now,” he said, drawing her from the room into the hall, leaving the sleeping infant laying beneath his night-light of floating stars.

“Simon—”

“I want you now, Tula,” he repeated, drawing her close, framing her face with his hands.

Ah, she thought. He wanted Nathan forever. He wanted her now. That was the difference. She chided herself silently for even considering that he might have meant something different. A twist of regret grabbed at her but she relentlessly pushed it aside.

She’d been in his home for nearly a week. She knew Simon Bradley was a cool, calm man who didn’t make decisions lightly. He liked to think he responded to his gut instincts, but the truth was, he looked at a situation from every angle before making a decision.

He wasn’t the kind of man who would take some sexual heat and a shared love for a child and build it into some crazy happily-ever-after scenario. That was all in her mind.

And her heart.

She should have known better. How silly, she told herself, staring up into his eyes. How foolish she’d been to allow herself to care for him. To idly spin daydreams that had never had a chance to come true.

The three of them weren’t a family. They were a temporary unit. Until Simon and Nathan had found their way together. Then good old “Aunt Tula” would go home and maybe come to the city once in a while for a visit.

As Nathan got older, he would no doubt resent time spent with her as simply time lost with his friends. He would be awkward with her, she thought, her heart breaking at the realization. Kind to a distant relative when his father forced him to be polite.

The little boy she loved so much wouldn’t remember her love or the comfort he had derived from it. How she had sung to him at night and played peekaboo in the mornings. He wouldn’t know that she would have done any thing for him. Wouldn’t recall that they had once been as close as mother and son.

He would have no memories of these days and nights, but they would haunt her forever.

She would be alone again. But this time, it would be so much worse. Because this time, she would know exactly what she was missing.

“Tula,” Simon whispered, drawing her back from thoughts that were threatening to drown her in misery. He tipped her face up until their gazes were locked, his searching, hers glittering with a sheen of tears she refused to shed for the death of a dream that should never have been born.

So very foolish, she thought now, looking up at Simon Bradley. Until this very moment, Tula hadn’t had any idea that she was more than halfway in love with a man she would never have.

“What is it?” he demanded. “Are you crying?”

“No,” she said quickly because she couldn’t let him know that she had just said goodbye to a fantasy of her own making. “Of course not.”

He accepted her word for that as his thumbs traced over her cheekbones.

“Come to my room with me, Tula,” he said softly, his voice an erotic invitation she knew she couldn’t resist. More, she knew she didn’t want to resist it. She’d let the fantasy go but she would be a fool to turn her back on the reality, however brief it might be.

Reaching up, she covered his hands with her own and gave him the answer they both needed. “Yes, Simon. I’ll come with you. I want you, too. Very much.”

“Thank God.” He bent and kissed her, hard and fast.

“Just let me turn the monitor on first,” she said, walking back into the nursery, shooting a quick look at the baby as he sighed and smiled through his dreams. She flipped the switch on the monitor, knowing the receivers in hers and Simon’s rooms would pick up every breath the baby made during the night.

She stared down at Nathan for a long moment, then turned her gaze on the doorway. There Simon stood, dark eyes burning with a fire that thrummed inside her just as hotly. Her body ached, her core went damp with need. She moved toward him and as she stepped into the hallway, he pulled her in close, then swung her up into his arms.

“I can walk, you know,” she said wryly, the last of her sorrow draining away against a tide of rising passion. In spite of her protest, she secretly delighted in being carried against his hard, strong body.

“But why walk when you can ride?” One of his eyebrows lifted into the arch that she knew so well and she had to admit that being snuggled against Simon’s broad chest was much preferable to a long walk down a silent hall.

The house sighed like a tired old woman settling down for a good night’s rest. The creaks and groans of the wood were familiar to her now and Tula felt as though she were wrapped in warmth.

Warmth that suddenly enveloped her in heat as Simon dipped his head to claim another brief, fierce kiss. When he broke the kiss, his dark eyes were flashing with something that sent a quick chill racing along Tula’s spine. Passion and just a hint of something more dangerous shone down at her and Tula’s stomach erupted with a swarm of what felt like bees.

Head spinning, heart pounding, she linked her arms around his neck as he strode into his bedroom and headed for the wide, quilt-covered bed. She had never been in his room before and she glanced around at the huge space. Wildly masculine, the room was done in brown and dark blue. Deep brown leather chairs were drawn up in front of a blazing tiled fireplace. Twin bay windows overlooked the street, the park beyond and the distant ocean. The bed was big enough, she thought wryly, to sleep four comfortably and moonlight poured through the windows to lay in a silver path along the mattress. As if someone, somewhere, had drawn them a road map to where they both wanted to go.

“Gotta have you. Now,” he muttered thickly, dropping her to the bed and following after.

“Yes, Simon,” she answered, reaching for the buttons on his shirt, tearing at them when they refused to give.

Simon was half-crazed with wanting her. Everything he had planned to say to her tonight dried up in the face of the overwhelming need clutching at him. Pulling at the hem of her bloodred sweater, he dragged it up and over her head to display the silky pink camisole she wore beneath. His gaze locked on her pebbled nipples. No bra. That was good. Less time wasted.

Simon hadn’t been able to keep his mind on anything but Tula for hours. The question of his son’s parentage had been answered and any other damn questions could just wait their turn. This was what he needed. What he had to have. Her.

Just her.

He pulled the camisole up, exposing her breasts to his hungry gaze and his mouth watered for a taste of her. He shrugged out of his shirt as she pushed the material down his arms, but beyond that, he couldn’t be bothered.

Clothes would come off when they needed to. For now…he bent his head to her breasts and took first one nipple, then the other into his mouth. She gasped and arched off the bed, pushing herself into him, silently begging for more.

He gave her what she wanted.

Lips, tongue, teeth ran across the pink, sensitized tips of her breasts. Her taste filled him, her sighs inflamed him. Her fingers threaded through his hair, holding him to her breast as she squirmed under him, desperate for more. For everything.

He knew that feeling and shared it. His body ached. He was so hard for her he felt as though he might combust if he didn’t get inside her. Tearing his mouth from her breasts, he worked his way down her incredibly lush body.

“So small, so perfect,” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin.

“I’m not small,” she countered, then gasped when his tongue traced a line around her belly button. “You’re just abnormally tall.”

He grinned and glanced up at her.

She shrugged. “Fine. I’m short.”

“And curvy,” he added, flicking the snap of her jeans and drawing down the zipper in one smooth move. His fingertips slid across her skin and she whimpered.

Simon smiled again and tugged at the jeans keeping him from her. They slid off her legs and fell to the floor. He paused then to admire the scrap of pink lace that made up the thong she wore. “If I’d known those jeans were hiding something like this, we’d have made it here long before now.”

She ran her tongue across her bottom lip and everything in Simon fisted.

“Now that you know,” she teased, “what are you planning on doing about it?”

In answer, he tugged the lace down her legs and off, shifted position and pulled her to the edge of the bed.

“Thought I’d start with this,” he said and ran his tongue across the most sensitive spot on her body.

She jolted and instinctively squirmed beneath his strong hands holding her in place. But Simon wasn’t letting her go anywhere. Instead, he pulled her closer to him, draped her legs across his shoulders and took her core with his mouth.

Tula groaned helplessly against the onslaught of emotions, sensations rampaging through her system. She looked down the length of her own body to watch him as he kissed her more intimately than anyone ever had before.

It was erotic. Sensuality personified, to see him licking her, tasting her and at the same time to feel what he was making her feel. Spirals of need and want clung together inside her and twisted into a frantic knot that seemed to pulse along with the beat of her heart.

And as her heartbeat quickened so did the tension coiling inside her. Tighter, faster, she felt herself nearing a precipice that swept higher with every passing moment. She raced toward it, surrendering to the incredible sensations coursing through her. She held nothing back—sighing, groaning, whispering his name as he pushed her further along the twisting road to completion.

Her breath was strangled in her lungs. She reached for the explosion she knew was coming and when the end came, her hands clenched the quilt beneath her and Tula held on as if for her life. The world rocked and her mind simply shut down under the onslaught of too many tiny shuddering ripples of pleasure.

Even before the last rolling sigh of satisfaction had settled inside her, Simon was there, moving her on the mattress, levering himself over her.

Staring down into her eyes, he entered her and Tula gasped at yet one more sensation. One more amazing invasion of her heart and mind and body. She held on to his shoulders and looked into dark brown eyes that were shadowed with secrets and shining with the same overpowering passion that held her in its grip. Again and again, his body claimed hers in the most intimate way possible. Again and again, she gave herself up to him, holding nothing back. Again and again, he pushed her higher and faster than she’d ever gone before.

The mind-numbing, soul-shattering climax, when it rushed through her, was enough to steal what little breath she had left. Moments later, she felt his release pound through him and heard him groaning her name. Then he collapsed atop her, his breath wheezing from his lungs, his heartbeat hammering in his chest.

Tula wrapped her arms around him and held him close, not wanting him to move yet. Not wanting to let go of the closeness that was somehow even more intimate than what they had just shared.

What could have been minutes or hours passed in a sensual haze of completion. Finally, he lifted his head, met her gaze and gave her a smile that at once made him look sexy and playful. That one smile slipped inside her and gave her the last nudge she needed to take the slippery slide into something she feared was probably, heaven help her, love.

“What is it?” he asked, voice quiet. “You look worried.”

She was. Worried for her own sanity. Her own well-being. Falling in love with Simon would be a huge mistake, Tula thought grimly, so she just wouldn’t do it. She would refuse to take that last step. It wouldn’t be easy, she knew, but protecting herself was too important. Instinctively she realized she needed protection, too. Because loving and losing Simon would be enough to devastate her.

“Worried?” she echoed lamely, scrambling for something to say.

“I used protection,” he assured her. “You weren’t really paying attention, but I did.”

“Oh. Thanks,” she said, though a part of her wondered if it might not have been better if he hadn’t. Then she would have had a chance at having a baby of her own. A child that would help fill the hole that losing Nathan was going to dig in her heart.

“Tula—” He pushed himself up on his elbows, took a breath and said, “We should talk about what just happened.”

“Do we have to?” she asked, hating for this time to end with what couldn’t possibly be good news. Whenever a man told a woman they had to talk, it was rarely to say, “Boy, that was great, I’m really happy.”

He rolled to one side, and the chill in the room settled over her skin the moment he left her. He stacked pillows against the headboard and leaned back, his gaze on her. “Yeah. We do. Look, this was…inevitable, I think.”

“Like death and taxes you mean?” she muttered, already hating how this conversation was going.