Ellie gave an audible gulp. ‘But…I won’t have any clothes.’
‘I’ll find you something and leave it outside the bathroom door. Go on. There are clean towels in there and plenty of soap and shampoo so wash your hair as well. A thorough scrub from head to toe, got it? Decontamination.’
He had undone the safety belt around Mouse and was lifting her into his arms. Ellie stood indecisively for a moment longer, watching him. And then, with a noise that could have been a tiny sob, she turned and fled towards the bathroom.
It was a good twenty minutes before she emerged. Her hair lay in damp strands over her shoulders, spikes of her fringe hanging into her eyes. She had rolled up the sleeves of that salmon-coloured shirt he rather liked even though it was too close to being pink and the tail hung down far enough to almost cover the red silk boxers he had also provided.
With her face scrubbed clean and her bare legs and feet, she looked like a teenager. A malnourished one at that. She also looked far shyer than Max had anticipated. She was in his house and now in his clothes and she was clearly discomfited by the turn of events. She not only looked incredibly young but rather too vulnerable as well.
‘Squeaky clean?’ He tried to sound casual but he could smell how clean she was, dammit. Had she discovered some soap he didn’t know he had? Or was that vaguely floral, gorgeously feminine scent simply coming from her exposed skin? He hadn’t seen her this uncovered since that day she’d breastfed Mouse for the first time.
Oh, God… Why did that scene keep ambushing his brain, not to mention other regions of his anatomy?
Ellie was nodding. ‘How did it go with the bottle?’
‘See for yourself.’ Max couldn’t help a proud grin as he waved at where he’d placed the bassinette, tucking it into a corner of the living area, away from any draughts from the windows. ‘Fed, burped, changed and back to sleep. I reckon she’s had enough excitement for one day.’
The nod was heartfelt this time. ‘Me, too.’
‘Hungry?’
‘Starving.’
‘Me, too.’ This was good. Something to focus on that took his mind off Ellie’s bare legs and the knowledge that she wasn’t wearing a bra under that soft, old shirt.
‘The fish and chips are stone cold. I was just waiting for you to get out of the bathroom so I could go and get a fresh lot.’
‘No.’
Max stopped in his tracks even though he was already halfway to the door. Escape into some fresh air had been the perfect plan but the anguish in Ellie’s whisper made him feel as though he’d come up against a brick wall.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I…um…I’d rather you didn’t go. What if…the police come? What do I tell them?’
Her expression suggested a belief that Max would have all the right answers and her trust undid something deep within. So did the thought that she didn’t want to be left alone. That she wanted him to stay with her.
‘Oh…Ellie…’ Her name was almost a groan.
An admission of defeat?
He walked back towards her, one step at a time, feeling as if he had no other choice at all. He gathered her into his arms and then realised that this was the first time he’d held her since she had stumbled on his doorstep—a lifetime ago. She’d been covered in shapeless clothing then and all he’d really been aware of had been the baby bump between them. Now it was just Ellie with a mere layer of silky material between them. He could feel the real shape of her body and the way it fitted against his. The length of her back. Firm, round little buttocks, all slippery under the silk. Her nose was buried against his chest and it even rubbed against him, a bit like Mouse when she was hungry or upset.
Max held Ellie with one arm around her back and with the other he smoothed the damp strands of her hair.
‘It’s OK,’ he heard himself murmur. ‘I’ll look after you. I’m not going anywhere for a while.’
The words seemed to echo. Where had he heard them before?
Oh…yeah…Back when he had started the skin-to-skin thing with Mouse, that’s when. When he’d known he was caught for as long as it was going to take because to do anything else simply wasn’t an acceptable option.
Ellie tipped her head back far enough to look up at him. Her face held a look of astonishment.
Of hope.
But a question lingered in her eyes. Was it possible he really mean what he’d just said?
Max couldn’t think of anything more he could say to reassure her. Words seemed to have deserted him, in any case, as he looked down at those toffee-coloured eyes. At a nose that Mouse would undoubtedly share when she grew up. At lips that were parted just a fraction.
He tried to smile but that ability had clearly deserted him along with the power of speech. So he did something that seemed to come naturally. He bent his head and brushed her lips with his own. A kiss that wasn’t really a kiss. Only reassurance. The kind you could give any female friend.
So why did it feel like a very different kind of kiss? The first stroke of something he wanted to dive into headlong. He was so aware of the scent of this woman in his arms. The feel of her body. He wanted to taste her. To hear the kinds of sounds she might make when she wasn’t scared or shy. When she was more than merely happy, in fact. Max was good at eliciting sounds that came with intense physical stuff. A sigh of pure pleasure perhaps or the groan of ultimate satisfaction.
He could—
Whoa! Max managed to stop his mouth descending again. He even managed to straighten up. To suck in enough air to resuscitate his brain.
‘How—’bout I put them in the oven, then?’
‘Huh?’ Ellie’s eyes snapped open. When had she closed them? And why?
‘The fish and chips. Would they be all right if we reheat them, do you think? I’d hate to give you food poisoning.’
‘Oh…’ Colour was flooding Ellie’s cheeks and she wriggled free of his arm. Or maybe he’d dropped it already. ‘I’m sure they’d be absolutely fine.’
‘Right. I’m onto it, then.’ Of course they’d be fine.
He would be too as soon as he was far enough away from the feel and scent of Ellie.
It hadn’t been a kiss.
Not a real kiss.
It didn’t mean anything. Not to him, anyway.
To Ellie?
The world had tilted so sharply beneath her feet at the merest touch of his lips on hers that she knew she was in real trouble. She’d seen it coming, though, hadn’t she? She’d known how easy it would be to fall in love with him. She’d tried, God help her, to maintain some distance. Just a shred of independence—both physical and emotional—and where had that landed her?
Here. In his apartment. In his clothes, for heaven’s sake.
In love.
But just because you felt that strongly about someone it didn’t mean you had to act on it, did it? It didn’t mean that Max was going to guess how she felt and run for the hills. And he would run. Why wouldn’t he? He was a gorgeous bachelor, part of a group of them, and they all played with toys like powerful motorbikes and had women lining up for their attention.
Ellie couldn’t afford for Max to want to run. She needed him right now. So did Mouse. They both needed his friendship and his protection. Not for ever. Just for a week or two. Surely she could keep the way she felt hidden for that long? And then she could step out of his life and keep