“Oh?”
He threaded a hand under her hair and around her neck. “Oh, yeah. For one thing, you just smell so damn good. If your situation was different, you might have to beat me off with a club. I have a giant crush on you.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have done this,” she said, but she didn’t pull away from his hand. “I’d hate to lead you on…”
“Come on, it’s not your fault if I have a crush and a desperate need to try to impress you. Don’t you have enough baggage without taking on mine?”
“Well, I’m impressed,” she said softly. She leaned toward him and put a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I just don’t want to let you down.”
Their eyes locked and for a moment they were suspended there. And then he slowly pulled her toward him. He was going to kiss her and she was going to let him. But then the baby started to snuffle in the crib and whimper. She pulled back with a smile. “That’s my call,” she said quietly. “Thank you for a lovely day. And for being such a dear man, for understanding so much.”
“Sure,” he said, removing his hand. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
“Good night, Cameron.”
Of course Vanni couldn’t sleep. It stung. She wanted hands on her. She wanted a man’s hot and eager body pressing her down in the bed, filling her, making her tremble and cry out. She hadn’t been touched, or physically loved in so long. After Matt’s death, after the baby, when her body began to come back to life, there was only one man whose touch could tempt her, really tempt her. Matt’s best friend. Her best friend.
Oh, it made her so furious, tears came to her eyes. That damn Paul! He wasn’t nearly as smooth, as romantic as Cameron! He wasn’t as pretty, and Lord knew, he didn’t want her like Cameron did.
Then she remembered the way he laid his head on her shoulder and wept right after the baby was born, the way he slipped his arms around her waist when she cried at Matt’s grave, the way he held her and the baby close for a few long moments before saying goodbye…And the tears came. How had she let this happen? Why can’t I just want the man who wants me—instead of the man who has no room in his life for me?
Sometime in the dark of night, Cameron was awakened by odd, faint sounds. He opened his eyes and listened. The baby, he thought. He sat up. But that wasn’t a baby crying, he realized. He got out of bed and crept closer to the door that separated him from Vanni. She was weeping. Crying soft, muffled, sad tears.
He pushed gently on the door and it opened—she hadn’t locked it. Maybe she did trust him, he thought. He pulled on his pants and went to her room. “Vanessa,” he whispered.
She moved in her bed. She sniffed. “Cameron?” she asked.
“What is it?” he whispered.
“Nothing, it’s nothing,” she whispered back.
He went to her bed and sat on the edge. He looked down at eyes that, even in the darkness of her room, were filled and overflowing, her nose pink. “God, Vanessa, if I made you cry, I’ll hate myself.”
“It’s not your fault. You’re completely innocent. You’ve been wonderful. I think too much sometimes. I have to learn to let some things go.”
“Oh, honey,” he said, pulling her close. “It’s all right. These things take time.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“You don’t have to be sorry. I knew—we both knew—you’ve had so much to deal with, to try to put into perspective. It’s okay.” He crawled onto the bed and, on top of the coverlet, slipped an arm under her head to hold her. “You take your time, Vanni. There’s lots of time.”
She turned in his arms and cried against his bare chest, and he held her, understanding the pain. He ached for her. The woman had buried the husband of her heart right before delivering his child. Moving on to the next part of her life wasn’t going to be that easy.
He didn’t care. He was willing to go through this with her, because this was exactly the kind of woman he wanted in his life. A woman who could show commitment this powerful, emotion this deep, love this enduring.
When he woke hours later, still on her bed, he saw her across the room, her nightgown slipped down to nurse her baby. As she looked down at her son while she fed him, a tear glistened on her cheek. She was having trouble leaving her spouse behind, and every time she looked at her son it would serve as a reminder.
It was not the morning after he had imagined or hoped for. He went to his room to shower. Then he had a nice breakfast delivered to the room, but he excused the waiter so they could be alone. He held the baby against him as Vanni picked at her food and sipped her coffee. “Are you feeling any better?” he asked her.