Children of Destiny Books 1-3 (Texas: Children of Destiny Book 9) Read online

  “Sebastian!”

  For all his outward gruffness, Sebastian was an incurable romantic.

  “You know I’m right. Hell—no man is perfect.”

  “You’re meddling in my life again–”

  “No. I’m merely putting my own affairs in order. I’m going to Australia. You’re going to work. Nick stays, and that’s final.”

  With that, he hung up. For a long moment Amy stared out the window, weighing her options.

  There weren’t many.

  It would do no good to call Sebastian again. He never backed down once he’d made a decision. She tried to think of just one babysitter she could call, but all the good ones had told her not to call again.

  Nevertheless, she was determined about one thing. Nick was not staying.

  *

  The front door banged open with such a violent thud that the whole house shook. Triple’s shout reverberated off the tile floors and redwood ceilings.

  “Mom!”

  She heard the sound of shattering glass.

  “I’m coming, dear.” She rushed down the hall toward the front door to find a remorseful Triple studying the fragments of a crystal ashtray.

  “I bumped into it by accident. Honest, Mom.”

  He looked so troubled, her heart went out to him. “Never mind, dear.”

  Triple threw himself into her arms. “Guess what?”

  She looked down at him, the ashtray forgotten. A tender smile tugged the corners of her lips.

  “Dad says he’s staying! For a whole week! Till I get really well! And look what he got me!”

  In one hand Triple was holding an immense toy sailboat that was almost as tall as he was. An antenna was attached to the tip of its mast. “He’s going to teach me to sail it.”

  “Triple, you’ve been very sick. I’m not about to let you near the water.”

  Triple was starting to protest when Nick and Sam came through the door together. Nick was laden down with suitcases and a huge stuffed gorilla he had given Triple as a gift. Sam was carrying the rest of his grandson’s possessions. They were laughing over some bit of shared humor.

  “Private joke?” Amy asked.

  “I was just saying I never saw a hospital process a bill faster,” Nick replied. “Triple certainly made a name for himself.”

  “That was a fun place,” Triple said.

  “Triple, why don’t you take your boat and gorilla and go to your room and lie down?” Amy said, determined to talk to Nick alone.

  “I will...” Triple glanced earnestly at his mother. “But only if you promise not to make Dad go.”

  “Triple!”

  “Go on, son,” Nick said.

  Triple squared his jaw mutinously, exactly as Nick did when he was determined to have his own way. Then he ran to his father.

  “Don’t worry, son,” Nick said softly, rumpling the tawny curls. “I can handle your mother.”

  Triple regarded his father dubiously and remained where he was.

  Nick’s blazing blue eyes met hers. Amy felt acutely uncomfortable. Still, she managed to speak gently. “I’d really like to thank you for all you’ve done the past few days, Nick.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, his voice as deceptively soft as hers.

  “But, I really think that since Triple’s home now, and so much better, we don’t need to impose on you any longer.”

  “Believe me, it’s no imposition,” Nick replied in that same silken tone.

  “I’m sure you must be worried about South Sails,” Amy persisted.

  “Why? I’ve been in touch with the office every day. I have complete faith in my staff. If you hire the right team, a company will run itself.”

  She sent a small, forced smile in his direction. “How very fortunate,” she retorted.

  His gaze narrowed. “Yes, isn’t it?”

  “What I was trying to say, Nick, is that you must have a million important things to do.”

  “I do. You and Triple head the list.”

  “Why must you always be deliberately obtuse?” she muttered.

  There was a watchful stillness in his expression. “Is it so wrong of me to want to help my wife and son when they need me?”

  A frown of exasperation swept across her brow. “But we don’t need you! Dad can look after Triple.”

  Sam had listened thus far in silence, but he shook his white head in vigorous dismay at the idea of babysitting Triple full time.

  “Dad, please...”

  “I suppose I could do all right if I had Nick here to back me up,” Sam said at last in a conspiratorial tone.

  “Dad, Lorrie can help out,” Amy pleaded.

  “Honey, you know as well as I do that when Lorrie helps she only makes things more difficult. It’s best not to count on her for much.”

  Amy stared hard at her son, her husband, and her father. Never had three male faces been set in more stubborn lines. She couldn’t fight them all.

  “Mom, he can stay in my room.” Triple’s eyes were shining with hope.

  “He can bunk in with me,” Sam countered with equal enthusiasm.

  All eyes focused on her, as if everyone expected her to invite Nick into her bedroom, and Amy blushed.

  “Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Nick replied grandly, having prolonged the embarrassing moment as long as possible. “I’ll just move my suitcase into that little guest room off the garage. I don’t expect to share a room...or a bed...with anyone.” He was staring pointedly at his wife.

  Nick was enjoying himself. The devil, she thought furiously, for having put her in such a difficult position. But how could she break Triple’s heart or disappoint her father after all they’d been through? Triple’s recovery was truly miraculous, and she didn’t want to do anything that might risk complications.

  “Then it’s settled,” Nick declared triumphantly. “I’m staying. At least for a week.” His brilliant eyes touched hers. “Maybe even longer.”

  “Oh, boy!” Triple cried. “Thanks, Mom.”

  Triple threw himself into her arms and hugged her.

  Glad as she was to have her little boy safely home once more, Amy could feel nothing but horror at the insurrection taking place in her own household.

  Nick moved closer and put his arm around Triple and Amy.

  She glanced up, seeking Nick’s eyes. His fingers tightened on her body, and she shivered.

  An undercurrent of electricity flowed between them, its tingling existence such a tangible truth, there was no way to ignore it.

  “You won’t be sorry,” Nick whispered over Triple’s head, smiling at her in that way of his that made her feel, despite everything she knew to be true, that she was the only woman in the world for him.

  His gaze zeroed in on her parted lips. “I think this calls for a kiss—to seal our bargain, so to speak,” he murmured.

  She was blinded by the dazzling light in his eyes.

  “No...” She reeled away, swallowing convulsively, afraid for him to see how shaken she was.

  Trembling, she clung to Triple.

  She heard the velvet resonance of Nick’s voice. “Soon,” he murmured. “Soon.” His tenderness reached out and seemed to enfold her with his warmth. “We have a week.”

  Amy lowered her dark eyes to the tousled gold-brown head of the son they both held in their arms.

  She knew suddenly that the most horrible thing of all was the insurrection in her own heart.

  Seven

  The glass doors to the swimming pool stood open when Amy came downstairs three days later. She knew what those open doors meant, and a painful pulse beat low in her stomach.

  Triple and his father were already up, practicing sailing techniques with the remote-control, miniature sailboat Nick had given Triple.

  Dear Lord! How was it possible that Nick had fit into her life so easily and smoothly? Like Triple, Nick had boundless energy, and he’d made himself incredibly useful. If he wasn’t playing chess with Sam or nursing Apolonia,
or singing those raucous tuneless songs of his while he cooked in the kitchen, Nick was entertaining Triple by the hour. Only Lorrie was upset by Nick’s presence, so upset she’d packed a bag and gone to stay with a friend until he left. Not that her defection seemed to bother Nick or anyone else, except Amy.

  Nick was too busy teaching his son sailing theory and chess, helping him learn to read, and helping him care for his pets. Last night, after Triple’s discovery that Geronimo had slithered out of his poorly constructed cage, Nick had shown Triple how to make the necessary repairs to the screened box, just in case they found the snake.

  Father and son were inseparable, and it bothered Amy that Triple had become so emotionally dependent on his father so quickly. It was going to break Triple’s heart when Nick had to go.

  Though she knew she should grab a cup of coffee and hit the freeways before rush hour, Amy was too curious to pass the doors without peeping inside. She stopped, edging cautiously toward the shadowed doorway so they wouldn’t notice her.

  Near the diving board Nick had positioned a huge fan to simulate wind. He could roll the fan to different spots whenever he desired a new wind direction. Every day father and son practiced for hours with the boat.

  Inside the glassed-in room, the air was warm and dense with humidity and the scent of chlorine. Sunlight glittered on the dancing water of the pool.

  Triple was reclining in a chaise lounge, his head propped against a mound of plump red pillows, the little boat’s remote-control device clutched tightly in one fist. Nick’s giant golden form was crouched beside him, and Nick was whispering instructions and helpful comments. As always Amy marveled that such an impatient man could be so patient with a child.

  Triple was listening to his father with such rapt attention that he wasn’t watching the sailboat. Suddenly the sailboat hit a gust from the fan and lurched saucily, its sails dipping into the water, and its bow ramming the side of the pool at maximum speed. Triple gave a yelp of rage that was so loud it shook the glass walls. Then he jumped up, raced to the edge, and yanked the boat that had been drifting helplessly on its side out of the glimmering waters and examined the damage.

  “Dumb boat! What did it do that for?” he bellowed.

  For a minute Amy thought he would throw it.

  Then she heard Nick’s low soothing voice. “We all make mistakes, son. The thing we have to do is learn from them. You’ve got to figure out what you did wrong and take corrective measures.”

  The wind chose that moment to snap the open door against the glass wall where Amy was standing. Nick glanced up, and when he saw her, a wistful expression passed fleetingly over his dark face.

  His eyes held hers, and her stomach went weightless as he murmured, “Believe me, son, I’ve made a mistake I’d give my life to figure out so I can straighten it out.”

  Amy knew that this last remark was meant solely for her, and she was moved by it—much more than she wanted to be.

  People made mistakes. Was it really fair to be unforgiving forever if the person who’d made them seemed to have made a heartfelt change?

  Nick rose slowly to his full height. As usual he was costumed outrageously. This morning he wore a flamboyantly flowered Hawaiian ensemble that made his skin seem darker and his eyes more brilliant. In the morning sunlight, his thick hair was wispy, spun silver and gold as the fan tossed it back and forth across his brow. His bronzed thighs were thrust widely apart, and in his swimming trunks and unbuttoned tropical shirt, he looked boldly piratical.

  Amy felt the blue blaze of his eager gaze roaming across her shapely length as surely as if he had touched her. She wanted to run, but she stood transfixed. The heat of her blood rose as that treacherous part of her nature that found him irresistible flared to life.

  She turned blindly, bent on escape, but his deep resonant drawl stopped her.

  “Amy, why don’t you stay for a minute, so Triple can show you what he’s learned?”

  Amy glanced away wildly. The blue Pacific stretched placidly toward the horizon. Palm fronds danced lazily in the light winter breezes. Surely there was no danger in such a peaceful setting.

  Triple was looking at her, his eyes bright and expectant. “Hey, Mom, watch this!” Triple leaned over, eagerly replacing the boat in the water and nudging it gently into the middle of the pool.

  More than anything, she wanted to stay.

  “I have to go to work,” she said in a tight, constricted voice.

  “It’ll only take a second, Mom.”

  As she turned and began to retreat silently down the stairs, she heard a whispered curse. She was aware of Nick’s rapid footsteps clamoring behind her.

  She stopped. It was no use trying to run from him. Her white-knuckled fingers gripped the railing as he caught up to her.

  They were outside, near sugar-white dunes in the brilliant glare of the morning sunshine with its fresh smells and sounds of the sea.

  They were alone, where Triple couldn’t see them.

  “Why won’t you stay?” Nick demanded.

  She clung even more tightly to the banister. Her head whipped around defiantly, and there Nick was, closer than she’d realized, with his windblown hair and his incredible blue eyes. His loose shirt whipped about him, and a great deal of his hard-muscled chest was revealed.

  “You just can’t take no for an answer, can you?” Her voice was as thin as a thread.

  His hand closed over her shoulder, and he backed her against the railing until its round edge bit into her hip. His own large body loomed against hers.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” he insisted softly. The warmth of his breath slid against her throat like a sensuous caress. “Why won’t you watch?”

  She felt the darkly veiled intensity of his gaze scanning her face—searching for something.

  “Because if I come in,” she began, “if I watch you together, it would seem too much like we’re a real family.”

  Blue eyes bored into hers. “That’s what we are.”

  Something in his low voice mesmerized her.

  “No,” she cried. “And we can’t ever be! I don’t want Triple to get the wrong idea.”

  Nick’s hand tightened on her shoulder. He moved a half step closer. She had to leave, but there was no way she could, caught as she was between the flimsy banister and the blistering warmth of his body.

  She could smell his scent, the mixture of salt and sea combining with the tangy smell of his skin. It was his habit to jog every morning along the beach, work out, and then swim laps in the pool.

  “Maybe it’s you who has the wrong idea,” he murmured huskily. Nick’s hand stole around her waist, drawing her into the shelter of his chest and arm. His lips moved down to the hollow beneath her jaw and whispered near her ear, “If we didn’t feel so right together, I don’t think you’d be half as afraid as you are.”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  He studied her shadowed face with its downcast trembling eyes, its half-parted, trembling lips. His hand skimmed the satin softness of her cheek, and her pulse leaped erratically.

  “Oh, yes you are.” His voice had grown softer. It was the tone he used with women, and some intimacy in his low gravelly voice seeped inside her. A callused fingertip trailed across her quivering mouth.

  “You think you’re so smart,” she cried desperately.

  “I know about some things,” he murmured.

  “Such as?”

  “You.” A long pause while his eyes studied her. “And me.”

  She brought up her hand to push him away, but it inadvertently touched his chest, uncovered by his blowing shirt. She felt the bristly whorls of bleached gold that formed a gilded cloud against the darker bronze of his chest. His skin was smooth and warm beneath her fingers.

  Her eyes rose to his face. His tanned features were expressionless. His inscrutable gaze met her faltering one. Something electric passed between them.

  She knew she should pull her hand away. When instead she let it s
tay, she realized she was losing the fierce inward battle against the physical arousal of her senses.

  A hoarse sob clogged her throat. “I don’t like Triple’s becoming so emotionally dependent on you.”

  “Is that so wrong?” he said gently. “After all, I am his father.”

  “But you’ll be leaving soon.”

  To that Nick said nothing. The intense emotion in his eyes alone spoke to her heart.

  “Why can’t you see?” she began. “He’s always worshiped you from afar. Now you’re using his adoration to make him think you can be a part of his life you can never be.”

  “I don’t use people,” Nick muttered, letting her go and turning away from her in anger. “That’s your specialty, remember?”

  She whitened. “Maybe you aren’t doing it on purpose,” she whispered at last, “but can’t you see that if Triple’s so thrilled to have you around now, he’ll be equally miserable when you leave? I’ve been watching him. I can see how hard he’s trying to change for you. He’ll do anything to please you, even things he normally hates.”

  “If only you were more like him.” Nick’s smooth tone and quick white smile had their customary devastating impact on her senses.

  “Damn you,” she whispered.

  “Is it so bad that Triple wants to please me?” Nick demanded.

  “If he’s on his best behavior just because he’s hoping to maneuver things so you end up staying, what’s going to happen when you leave?”

  “Look, all I’m trying to do is make the most of the time I have with him.” Nick hesitated. “Triple hates reading and spelling. You told me you frustrate him when you try to help him, but I’ve got him working happily on those two subjects for an hour every day. Since I have dyslexia myself, I have a deeper understanding of the problem than you; therefore, it’s easier for me to help him. I used to help Jack the same way.”

  “Nick...”

  “Has it ever occurred to you that I can give things to Triple you can never give him, just as you can help him in ways I can’t? That by keeping me out of his life, you’re cheating him? Have you ever wondered why he’s always been such a little hellion? Has it ever occurred to you he’s starving for something he’s not getting—my attention? You’re too soft with him. He needs a firm hand. You spoil him, exactly like you’ve always spoiled Lorrie. Have you noticed that he hasn’t pulled one of his stunts in the last three days? He needs a father to relate to full-time, not just one month out of the year.”