“Easy?”
“Hannah has a little quirk to her smile. See?” He pointed to the picture.
Sabrina studied the pose and saw what he meant.
It was a smile she’d seen before—on Gabe. She wondered if he was aware of the similarity he shared with his daughter.
“And when the twins aren’t smiling, what then?” she asked.
“I try to keep this a…happy little family.”
A hint of laughter lit his eyes. In the soft livingroom light they radiated intelligence, a perception of who he was and what he wanted from life. He would command a woman’s soul, as well as her heart, Sabrina thought.
The realization crossed her mind that she needed to beware.
He set the picture back on the oak mantel. “Once you get to know the twins, you’ll find other differences. Hannah’s laughter is bright, Heather’s a little slower in coming. Hannah tilts her head to the right when she’s listening to you. Heather tucks one foot behind the other when she’s feeling a little… uncertain.”
The two had only recently lost their mother. Yes, they would be a little hesitant, a little uncertain, Sabrina thought. But she suspected Gabe Lawrence was a good dad, though she had the feeling he didn’t always consider himself to be. She felt, also, that she’d gotten a rare glimpse of the girls through their father’s eyes.
Just then Hannah and Heather bounded into the room, pajamas on, faces scrubbed. One—Heather, judging by the hesitant smile—still had her hair bow in. Gabe unclipped it and tousled her hair.
Was it her professional eye that made her so aware of the relationship this small family shared with each other? For a moment she felt a pang of something akin to jealousy. Once upon a time she’d wanted this for herself. Her career, a husband, children. That was until her marriage to Phillip fell apart.
Stick with what you do best, Sabrina, she told herself.
“Will you read us a story from the new book Dad gave us for our birthday?” Heather asked.
Sabrina caught the little girl’s gesture just as Gabe had described it—one foot tucked behind the other, uncertainty evident on her small, cherubic face.
Life had taught Sabrina to go slowly into relationships—or stay away from them altogether—but Gabe’s twin daughters tugged at her resolve, and a few heartstrings, drawing her where she was afraid to go.
“If it’s all right with your dad, just a short one,” she said and glanced from Heather to her father, who was leaning a shoulder against the mantel, amusement lining his face.
He thought she couldn’t do this—and he was enjoying it. His laughing eyes challenged her, much the way he’d challenged her theories yesterday afternoon.
But Sabrina intended to show him she was made of sterner stuff.
Well, what had Gabe expected!
The two little girls had taken to Sabrina like ducks to water. The woman with all the answers—or so she thought.
He paced up and down the living room, hands jammed into his pockets, feeling very much like his little experiment of the night had backfired on him, blown up in his face. He’d wanted to show the lady psychologist up for the fraud that she was. But Sabrina had been a good sport.
She’d held her own all evening. Even reading a bedtime story to his little girls.
But did she have to be so all-fired lovely in the bargain? So tempting? He was certain she would have him thumping his pillow, the vision of those sultry eyes and that wide, sensual smile of hers playing on the inside of his eyelids until the first light of day.
From the twins’ bedroom he heard the lilt of her voice. Not the words, but the rhythmic cadence, occasionally her soft laugh. He had the feeling that reading to two little girls was a first for the standoffish Dr. Moore.
He’d caught her looking overwhelmed more than once during the evening. As if out of her element. Not that he couldn’t feel a moment of sympathy for her. He could.
After all, this whole parent thing was still very new to him.
Which was exactly why he didn’t need one pretty woman muddling his life, he thought with a groan. And he had the feeling that Sabrina Moore could do just that, given half a chance.
“Gabe.”
He stopped his pacing and spun around to meet Sabrina’s green-eyed gaze.
The soft light played around her face, dancing across her high cheekbones that were brushed with a faint hint of peach. Her lips glowed with the same peach hue. He stared, fascinated, as she nervously moistened them with the tip of her tongue.
Did she know how incredibly sexy that gesture was?
What it did to him?
He dragged a hand through his hair and struggled for his voice. “Don’t tell me you got the twins successfully bedded down on the first try,” he said, his words coming out surprisingly steady. It was more than he felt on the inside.
Sabrina smiled. “They tried to egg me into one more story, but I resisted the little charmers.”
“Good,” he said, taking a step closer. “I wouldn’t want them to get spoiled or anything.”
One soft, winged eyebrow arched attractively. “As a student of child behavior, I have to tell you it may already be too late for that, Gabe Lawrence.”
He laughed.
Sabrina met his gaze. “While you’re in a good mood, I have something I want to ask you,” she said, her voice hesitant.
“Yeah, what’s that?”
She studied his features, trying to decide how best to phrase her request.
His mouth curved up in a slow smile, his stance easy, one elbow resting against the mantel, his blue eyes probing her softly.
Sabrina drew in a steadying breath. “I would like your permission to study the girls.”
“What?”
“Their personalities, behavior modes, adaptability to the changes in their life—”
“No!”
While she’d been explaining, Gabe’s features had hardened. The sapphire of his eyes took on the color of an impending storm. In contrast, an enraged mountain lion looked tamer.
Sabrina took an instinctive step backward. “Perhaps I didn’t explain well.”
“On the contrary,” he said. “I’m sure I understood you perfectly.”
Sabrina wasn’t so sure that was true. “It would be a harmless little project. The twins would do what they do naturally and I would—”
“Dissect their every action, their every word.”
She blinked at his interpretation of what she did on a daily basis, her scientific methodology. “You make it sound so—”
“Cold?”
“I was going to say…disciplined.”
“A softer word for the same thing,” he returned, not giving an inch in his demeanor. He dragged a hand through his hair. “Those two little girls have been through a lot lately. They lost their mother,” he bit out. “All they have is each other. And a single dad who’s desperately trying to do the work of two parents.”
“Precisely why I want to do this study,” she said determinedly.
She wasn’t unsympathetic to the girls’ loss. Sabrina knew what the death of a parent