Don't Close Your Eyes

Reluctantly, she got up and dressed and went to the exercise room to pedal and jog, to banish the memory of Colin’s searing kiss.

It was almost dawn when she fell asleep. Jessie’s crying woke her and she went to pick up the baby and change her diaper. Then, slipping into a robe, she took Jessie to the kitchen to feed her.

When she entered the room, Colin was seated at the table. Seeing her, he stood with that lithe ease that indicated how strong and fit he was. Coffee was already brewing and he had made scrambled eggs and bacon. The orange juice was poured, toast buttered. Dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, he looked fit, tough and in prime condition. His black hair was combed back. Her heart thudded because all she could remember was standing in his embrace last night as he’d kissed her. And she realized she was only in her cotton gown and robe.

“I didn’t know you’d be awake,” she said, sounding ridiculous.

“I’m here and I can feed her while you eat, if you’d like.”

“You feed her and I’ll dress,” Isabella said impulsively thrusting the child into his arms.

His eyebrows shot up as he surveyed Jessie. “Isabella, I don’t know one thing about a baby. I’ll feed her, but you need to show me what to feed her and how to do it.”

“It’s easy. She loves oatmeal and milk and the oatmeal is in the cabinet,” Isabella instructed before she fled the room to get dressed. Let him cope with little Jessie. If he was a colonel, he was up to the task of getting breakfast for a baby. He needed a baby in his arms. Who could turn his back on life after dealing with Jessie?

She showered and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and took her time brushing her hair and pulling on boots, wondering how Colin was getting along with little Jessie. Isabella hadn’t heard any screams coming from the kitchen.

Finally she returned to the kitchen.

She had to smother a laugh. Jessie was in her high chair and she had oatmeal all over her face and in her fists and her hair. And Colin had oatmeal in his hair, too, on his shirt and face.

“How’s breakfast?” she asked, holding back laughter. Colin turned to look at her and narrowed his eyes.

“You come finish this. I told you I don’t know one damn thing about a baby. I think she’s had about two bites of oatmeal and you can see where the rest went. Dammit, I don’t have many changes of clothing.”

“There’s a washing machine and, as you said, clothes will wash,” she said blithely, getting a wet paper towel to clean Jessie. She turned around as Colin stood and pulled off his T-shirt. His muscled body was lean and fit, but scars covered his back and ran across his shoulders, chest and arms.

Her breath caught in her throat; the scars didn’t change his appeal one bit. They did remind her of what Colin had gone through, how the years had changed him.

“I told you they had to put me all back together,” he said when he turned around and caught her staring.

She looked up and met his gaze. “If you think I’m staring because you have scars, think again,” she whispered. The air crackled with searing heat as his eyes darkened and he inhaled deeply.

“I wouldn’t have admitted that to you except you have a very mistaken notion about your appearance,” she added.

Feeling as if her face were on fire from embarrassment over her admission, she moved to the chair to finish feeding Jessie. Colin stood in her peripheral vision and she knew he hadn’t moved, but she couldn’t face him.

“If I weren’t covered with oatmeal—” He broke off his sentence and left the room in long strides.

She closed her eyes and let out her breath. She fed Jessie, relieved the minute Jessie finished and she could clean the toddler’s face and hands and escape from the kitchen before Colin returned.

Isabella bathed and dressed Jessie in a pink jumper and shirt, carrying her to the nursery and sitting on the floor to play with her, leaving Colin to entertain himself. If she had just looked away, she wouldn’t have had to explain herself. But she hadn’t, and that was that.

“I wondered where you two had gone.”

She turned to see Colin in the doorway, dressed in clean jeans and a T-shirt, leaning one shoulder against the jamb. He held his oatmeal-covered clothing balled in his hand. “Where’s the washer?”

“Come join us,” she said while Jessie clapped her hands and held her arms out to him.

Isabella pointed. “Right through that door in the utility room. As soon as you put your clothes in to wash, come join us. Jessie likes you,” she said, and he shook his head.

“I don’t know why,” he said upon his return. “Unless she hopes to throw some more oatmeal my way.” He didn’t make a move to pick up Jessie and she lost interest in him, turning to play with a ball that was in front of her. He looked around the pink nursery and then back at Isabella.

“You look like you belong in here.”

“I should. I’ve been dealing with little brothers and sisters all my life.”

He crossed the room to pick up a picture of Mike, Savannah and Jessie. “I like this picture. Cute family.”

“Thank you for the first. I took the picture.”

His eyebrows arched and he looked back at the picture again. “You’re talented.”

“I wish you would reconsider and let me take your picture.”

He turned and shook his head. “Nope. I’d make a poor subject.”

She nodded because she could understand his reluctance. She raised her head when she heard a car. Instantly, Colin moved to the window. “What kind of car does Mike drive?”

“They’ve taken the sports car. It’s green.”

“That’s him,” Colin said.

“Want me to go break the news that you’re here? He’ll be a little shocked if you meet him at the door.”

“Mike can stand shock. You did without batting an eye.”

“Come on, sweetie,” she said to Jessie. “Mommy and Daddy are home. Let’s go see them.”

Jessie laughed, repeating Mama and Dada as Isabella carried her downstairs.

“It was interesting Isabella, seeing you again,” Colin said, falling into step beside her. “I won’t forget you.”

She glanced up at him. “I won’t forget you, either, Colin. I think I remembered you better anyway, than you did me.” His gaze lowered to her mouth and her pulse jumped. Was he remembering their fiery kiss? She was and she could barely get her breath. In just minutes he would be busy with Mike and then he’d be gone forever.

Another twinge of sadness gripped her because it seemed such a waste for him to go off to some remote corner of the world to live.

He made his own choices, she reminded herself. He was no part of her life and she shouldn’t worry or care what he did. He certainly wouldn’t give a thought to anything she was going to do with her future.

“You’re certain you don’t want me to tell him?” she asked again. “After all, everyone thinks you’re dead. And you are buddies.”

She gazed into his smoky eyes. They were so striking and unforgettable. Too much about him was unforgettable.

His lips firmed while he mulled over her question. “You may be right. Go ahead and break the news. I’ll wait in the living room.”

He turned and was gone. He moved with the silence and ease of a cat. She shifted Jessie in her arms and went to the kitchen to wait.

She could see the Remingtons heading toward the house and thought they were a striking-looking couple because Savannah was as blond as Mike was dark with his tanned skin and black hair. He was loaded down with bags and boxes and Savannah carried a few boxes, as well.