One Night with a Tempting Playboy: From Playboy to Papa! / The Legendary Playboy Surgeon / Unwrapping the Playboy. Marie FerrarellaЧитать онлайн книгу.
replica. It wasn’t the first time she’d noticed their similarities, but every time seemed to underline their bond more and more. She took a quick breath and focused on his comment. “I’m speaking of someone else’s interest. It wanes quickly.”
“Ah,” Rafe said. “Point taken. Betta fish on the way home. Are you joining us?”
“After I get dressed.”
“No need,” he said, his gaze skimming over her again. “We’re casual.”
“I’ll be out soon,” she said and closed her door. Her heart was racing. She frowned at herself, still disturbed by her hot dream. “Get a grip,” she whispered.
Joel didn’t stop bouncing with excitement for most of the day. His son even reached for his hand several times. The gesture tugged at his heart and he was relieved at the small sign of Joel’s trust. Joel would adjust. His son would grow to trust him more each day, to rely on him, maybe even to love him. It would happen faster if he had Nicole’s support and Rafe sensed he was getting to her.
She laughed and he felt her gaze on him several times throughout the day. He sensed both curiosity and skepticism. The latter made him impatient.
That night, after they returned to the house, Joel hit the sack early and Rafe took advantage of the time by inviting Nicole to join him for dinner on the patio.
“Have you ever gotten into a physical altercation as an adult?” Nicole asked him after dinner.
It was approximately the twentieth question she’d asked him regarding physical fights.
“Yes, I have. I was a bouncer for a couple of clubs in Miami. A few times I had to resort to brute strength, but not since. Why do you ask?” He met her gaze directly.
She bit her lip. “I just wanted to know what your approach to life was. If you thought physical intimidation was necessary.”
“In rare circumstances. If someone came at you or Joel, I would defend you,” he said. “I wouldn’t be a man if I didn’t.”
“What do you mean—not a man?” she asked.
“I mean I wouldn’t stand for anyone attacking you.” He shrugged. “I would protect my son. My son’s mother.”
She stared at him for a long moment. “And what about your son? Would you physically punish him? Would you—” She broke off as if she could barely complete her sentence. “Would you punish a woman?”
Rafe scowled in distaste. “A real man never uses his strength against a child or a woman.”
She bit her lip again. “You really believe that,” she said in an unsteady voice.
“Of course I do. Only cowards prey on those who are weaker.” He wondered where her questions originated. “Where is all of this coming from?”
She glanced away. “It was a philosophical question,” she said.
“It sounded like more,” he said.
She lifted her shoulders. “If you are going to be a partner in Joel’s care, then I need to know what to expect. People have different philosophies about physical punishment.”
He studied her for a long moment. “So you’re afraid I’ll beat him?”
Her heart skipped and her stomach knotted. She swallowed over the knot of emotion in the back of her throat. “I need to make sure I understand what you believe.”
“We’ve talked about this before. I was spanked as a child, but I don’t think it hurt me. I think there are better ways of disciplining children. My primary goal is protecting my child.”
He spoke as if he were a modern-day warrior. Nicole tried to compute his words, but struggled to separate them from her father’s actions.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he said, his eyes narrowed.
She looked away. “Your appearance in Joel’s life has been so sudden.”
“That wasn’t by my choice,” he said.
“I know. But you’re not the only one who feels protective of Joel.” She pushed her hair behind one ear and appeared as if she were debating something. “I’m not sure of what your values are, what you’ve been taught.”
Rafe felt a familiar twist in his gut. “What you mean is that I wasn’t raised in civilized society and in the cocoon of extreme wealth. You’re starting to sound like your sister. I’m a little too rough around the edges. I’m not quite good enough for prime time. Right?”
Nicole’s lips parted in a soft gasp. “No. I didn’t mean that at—”
He lifted his hand. “Save it. I’ve heard it before more than once. My family was poor, but my father loved us. My mother just wasn’t strong enough to keep it all together after my dad and Leo died. So, yes, I was shuffled off to a foster family, who wanted me partly because I brought in extra income. Didn’t catch up with my brothers until the last few years. Sometimes it feels like my first nine years were just a dream.” He paused a half beat and shook his head. “I pretended I belonged, but I never did. I don’t even have pictures of my family,” he muttered, then looked at her. “Your parents probably commissioned oil paintings of you and Tabitha every year of your life.”
“There were a lot of photos,” she admitted.
“None of this matters. What matters is Joel is my son and I’m going to take care of him. Good night,” he said and knew he had to get out. The walls of his house felt as if they were closing in around him. Or maybe it was his own bones and ribs squeezing his guts into a knot.
He grabbed the keys to his car and stopped suddenly. He couldn’t just pick up and go anymore. He had to think of Joel. He turned to Nicole. “I need to go for a drive,” he said. “I’ll make sure the housekeeper keeps an ear out for Joel. I’ll have my cell. Call me if you need me.”
She nodded. “I think I gave you the wrong impression,” she began.
“Not likely,” he said, hearing the edge of cynicism in his own voice. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
Sliding into his vintage Corvette, Rafe put the top down and headed for the pier. The wind blew over his face, assuaging just a tinge of his restlessness. Nicole’s lack of trust in him drove him to a level of frustration he hadn’t experienced in years, if ever.
He knew she wanted him, but she kept pulling back. She got under his skin even more than Tabitha had. He shook his head at the thought. No, he’d allowed himself to fall ass over teakettle for Tabitha. Rafe had more self-control these days. Lust was just another word for love.
It shouldn’t bother him that she shared the same attitude about his lack of so-called class that Tabitha had, but it did.
A bitter taste filled his mouth. He could have dismissed any other woman, but this was Joel’s mother. Whether he liked it or not, he would have to bring her around to his way of thinking.
Nicole had never felt so conflicted in her life. Although she knew she was completely justified in making sure that Rafe would be a good parent to Joel, she hated the idea of causing Rafe pain. Given his history with her sister, her feelings were pure insanity.
Why did she care about hurting him? Was it because Rafe was Joel’s father? Nicole suspected it was more than that. Something about Rafe made her feel longings she’d dismissed. She should forget those same longings now.
Five days later, a social-services specialist called the house to schedule a visit. Nicole reluctantly called Rafe.
“What does she want?” he asked.
“She wants to observe Joel and you to see how he is adjusting,” Nicole said, pacing as she talked to him. The two of them had barely exchanged a word since he’d taken off that night after her confrontation.