Gabe glanced up to see a little boy of about three peering over the edge of the table, awaiting his piece of cake. Behind him were four more kids of varying sizes. Sabrina was eyeing him, too.
“You’re slowing up the show,” she said, a gleam of humor in her sultry green eyes.
“Uh, sorry.” He cut the little shaver an extralarge piece.
“Small kid, small amount,” Sabrina whispered in rebuke.
“The kid has an appetite.”
“Yeah, right.” She added a scoop of ice cream to the plate Gabe handed her, a more…manageable scoop for the boy.
When the last child was served, and a few second helpings given out, Gabe and Sabrina got their chance to try the dessert.
“Mmm. This is good,” she said, sampling a bite of the cake. “I don’t even taste the sunken center.”
“I wasn’t aware sunken centers had a distinctive flavor,” he countered.
He’d arched one eyebrow, but a smile played at his lips. For one studious moment Sabrina wondered what it would be like to feel his mouth on hers— hard, persuasive, totally distracting. Gabe was a dynamic man, one any woman would have difficulty resisting.
Herself included?
She glanced away, back to the party plate in front of her. “Actually I think it’s nice you did this for your daughters,” she said softly.
“Yeah, well…I hope you don’t mind I roped you into this evening.”
“I’ll work hard to forgive you.” She smiled. “Besides, I’m enjoying myself. And the twins. Very much.”
His gaze swept her face. “Personally speaking or professionally?” he asked.
For a quick moment she didn’t know how to answer. A blush crept up her neck. She’d just been fantasizing about the feel of his lips, their taste and what his kiss would do to her. But that was not the reason she was here. Gabe Lawrence had challenged her theories, her work…and just possibly who and what she was.
And she needed to remember that.
She lifted her chin. “Professionally,” she answered.
Gabe was still considering her matter-of-fact response as the party wound down. It was still on his mind as he sent the last child home, birthday balloon and party favor in hand. The lady was keeping this evening in cool perspective.
But what about his reasons for inviting her in the first place? Had it been merely a challenge? Or a misguided desire to know more about the woman who fascinated him just a little too much? How pure had his intentions really been?
And how pure were they now?
He found Sabrina in the kitchen, her silken brown hair falling forward over one shoulder as she leaned close to the twins. Hannah held her captivated, showing her one of her birthday gifts—a new Barbie doll.
Gabe wondered what she would think about the last doll’s demise.
“Sorry to break up this little discussion, but I know two girls who should be ready for dreamland.”
Hannah and Heather were quick to voice their objections.
“But, Dad, we’re showing Dr. S’brina what we got for our birthday,” Heather announced.
“We’ll go to bed later,” Hannah said as if she were the one to make that decision.
Gabe hid a smile. He hated being tough on the girls, but it would take them forever to wind down after their day’s excitement.
And he very much wanted to spend some time with Sabrina.
“No way,” he said to his little princesses. “It’s off to bed with you. Hands and faces washed, then into your pj’s,” he ordered. “Think you can handle that?”
Heather gave a long-suffering sigh. “Dad—we’re not babies.”
“Of course not.”
He met Sabrina’s gaze. She’d been observing his interplay with the twins with a keen-eyed psychologist’s interest, but there was a smile on her face. For one dangerous moment he wondered how hard it would be to separate the woman from the intellectual.
He cursed the part of himself that wanted to try.
Sabrina was tempting, but she’d have to remain just that—a temptation. His little girls were his first priority these days.
“Will you stay and say g’night to us, Dr. S’brina?” Heather asked.
“Please,” echoed Hannah.
Sabrina glanced down into the faces of the two little angels, then up at their handsome father. She’d stayed far too long as it was, far longer than she’d intended. Longer than she should.
Gabe wore a glint of a smile. Was he asking her to stay, as well?
“Say yes! Say yes!” The girls tugged on her sleeve and Sabrina laughed softly.
How could she refuse the two little look-alikes?
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll stay until you’re ready for bed. Then I do have to go.”
When the twins disappeared down the hallway, she turned to Gabe. “Want me to give you a hand with this party mess?” The kitchen could only be termed a disaster. The patio was not much better.
“Not on your life. I’ll deal with the mess later. You’ve helped out enough this evening, considering I got you here under false pretenses.”
He had done that, Sabrina thought. Baited her into it. “I think you made your point effectively tonight,” she said quietly.
He arched a brow. “And what point is that?”
She gave a slow smile. “That possibly I don’t know all there is to know about twins.” At least his twins. “You’ve seemed to jump into this with both feet, theories be damned.”
His eyebrow arched higher. “Is that a concession speech I hear?”
“Don’t push your luck, Gabe Lawrence!”
He chuckled long and hard. “Come on, let’s get away from this party mess. Care for a cold beer to wash down the taste of pink birthday punch?”
She shook her head. “Thanks, but no.”
“Wine? I have a chilled bottle.”
Sabrina didn’t intend to stay that long. “Nothing. Thank you.”
“Suit yourself.”
He led her into the living room she’d glimpsed when she’d arrived. Here, at least, was relative neatness, an orderliness that was a sharp counterpoint to the chaos in his kitchen.
Sabrina turned around, taking in the room.
She read a definite male influence in the navy plaid sofa and two overstuffed chairs that looked comfy enough to sink into. A fireplace of red brick stood at the far end. She could picture Gabe here, reading a book to his daughters before a cheery blaze.
It was an image she liked.
Walking over to the mantel she picked up a framed photograph of the twins. “At the risk of hearing you hoot with laughter once again, explain to me how you tell the two apart.”
To his credit he only gave one small—and shortlived—smirk. He folded his arms over his chest and came to stand next to her, so close, she could feel the heat of him, smell the clean male scent of his aftershave. This near she could see there were silver flecks that danced in the deep blue of his eyes. His mouth had a sensual fullness that tugged at