The plaintive cry roused Acheron from a sound sleep. He listened for a while but the noise continued. After a moment, he rolled out of bed with a curse on his lips and reached the bedroom door, before groaning out loud and stalking back to rummage through a drawer and extract a pair of jeans. He hated having guests. He hated any interruption to his usual routine. But Tabby was a better option than a real wife, he reminded himself with satisfaction, and a good deal less likely to develop ambitious ideas about hanging on to her privileged position.
He pushed open the door of the nursery and saw the baby in the cot. It was kicking its arms and legs in furious activity, its little face screwed up as it loosed a wail that would have wakened the dead. Only, apparently, not her wannabe adoptive mother. Ash hovered by the cot, his wide, sensual mouth on a downward curve. The baby sat up in a flash and looked expectant, even lifted its arms as if she expected him to haul her to freedom. It looked far too lively for a baby supposed to be sleeping.
‘No more crying,’ Ash decreed firmly. ‘I don’t like crying.’
The baby’s arms lowered, its rosebud mouth jutting out in a pout while its bright brown eyes studied him uncertainly.
‘You see, crying gets you nowhere,’ Ash explained helpfully.
Another heartbroken sob emanated from the baby. She looked incredibly sad and lonely, and Ash stifled a groan.
‘Aren’t you going to lift her? She needs comforting,’ Tabby murmured from the doorway, studying the little tableau of inflexible male and needy baby. It was infuriating to register that she couldn’t take her eyes off him when he was wearing only a pair of jeans. He had a six-pack that could have rivalled a top athlete’s and his lean, muscular bronzed chest was state-of-the-art perfection, showcasing a male body that could have played a starring role in any female fantasy.
‘Why would I lift her?’ Ash enquired with a raised brow, flashing her a glance and noticing in that one brief look that she was wearing a pale nightdress that revealed more than it concealed of her tiny body while she stood with her back turned to the light in the corridor. He glimpsed delicate little pink nipples and a pale shadowy vee between her thighs, and his body reacted with instantaneous arousal.
‘Because if you expect our adoption application to impress the powers-that-be, you need to be confident that you can handle Amber.’
‘I will be perfectly confident if the situation demands that of me, but at this hour of the day it would be very unwise to remove her from the cot,’ he declared. ‘She’s there for the whole night. It’s two in the morning, in case you haven’t noticed. Why raise her hopes by lifting her?’
Amber released another howl and, gripped by frustration, Tabby marched over to the cot, swept up the little girl and settled her without ceremony into Ash’s arms. ‘If she has a nightmare she needs comforting. She needs to know someone is there for her and a little cuddle usually soothes her.’
Amber was as shocked as Acheron to find herself in his arms. Wide brown eyes anxiously observed him. ‘Cuddle?’ Ash almost whispered the word in appalled disbelief. ‘You actually expect me to cuddle her?’
WITH A GASP of irritation, Tabby removed Amber from his awkward hold and pressed her close. ‘Skin-to-skin contact is important,’ she demonstrated, kissing Amber’s hot brow.
‘I’m not doing the kissing stuff either,’ Acheron breathed witheringly.
‘Then smooth her hair, rub her back, make her feel secure in other ways,’ Tabby advised ruefully. ‘Stop being so resistant to my suggestions.’
‘And how do you suggest I do that? With a personality transplant?’ Acheron derided. ‘I’m no good with kids. I have no experience of that sort of affection.’
‘It’s never too late to learn,’ Tabby told him with determination, settling Amber carefully back into his arms. ‘Hold her closer, pet her. And please don’t tell me you have no experience of petting women.’
‘I don’t pet them. I have sex with them. This is not an appropriate conversation to have around a child!’ Acheron bit out in exasperation.
Picking up on his annoyance, Amber whimpered. He spread his fingers across her back in an uneasy rubbing motion.
‘Bring her closer,’ Tabby urged, approaching him to tuck the baby into the curve of his shoulder. ‘She’s not going to bite.’
Acheron could never recall feeling quite so tense or uncomfortable. He knew what she wanted from him but he didn’t want to do it. Then he thought of DT Industries, which would be one hundred per cent his only after the wedding, and he held the baby against him, deeming it a sacrifice worthy of such a result.
‘And talk to her,’ Tabby suggested.
‘What about?’ Acheron demanded with perfect seriousness, freezing as the baby nestled close of its own volition, disconcerted by the alien warmth and weight of her as she dug little hands into the flesh of his shoulder.
‘Stocks and shares if you like. It doesn’t matter at this age. It’s the sound and tone of your voice that matters,’ Tabby explained.
Acheron mumbled a Greek nursery rhyme.
‘And if you walk around the room with her, it might make you feel more relaxed.’
Acheron gritted his teeth and started to tell the baby exactly what he thought of Tabby in Greek, careful to keep the antagonism out of his voice. Amber looked up at him with big trusting brown eyes, and he marvelled at her ability to award that amount of trust to a complete stranger. If the baby could try, he could as well even if it did stick in his throat to be listening to Tabby’s instructions and following them. She maddened him, he acknowledged grimly, gently rubbing Amber’s back as he talked. The baby slowly rested its head down on his shoulder.
‘Give her to me,’ Tabby murmured. ‘She’s going back to sleep.’
‘And so ends lesson one,’ Acheron mocked as she settled Amber back into the cot and covered her again. Only it was not the child he was watching but Tabby. The pale grey silk glimmered in the dull light from the corridor, splaying across her thighs, outlining the plump little curves of her derriere as she bent over the cot rail, prominent nipples visible against the flimsy fabric as she straightened again.
Acheron was hard as a rock by the time he completed that far from fleeting appraisal. ‘You might want to cover up more around me,’ he commented. ‘Or is this a come-on?’
Her violet eyes flew wide as she faltered at the doorway, and she flashed him an incredulous glance back over a narrow shoulder. ‘Do you think you’re irresistible or something?’
Acheron strode over to the doorway. ‘You can’t be that innocent. Men are fairly predictable when there is so much bare skin on display.’
‘I am not on display,’ Tabby countered furiously, crossing her arms defensively over her lightly clad length, sharply disconcerted by the idea that he could see her body beneath the nightie. ‘When I came in I had no idea you would be in here.’
Acheron closed a hand around her wrist and tugged her into the corridor, shutting the door behind him. ‘I like what I see,’ he informed her softly.
Tabby stared up at him with fulminating force, noting the dark shadow of stubble outlining his stubborn jaw line and how that overnight growth enhanced his sheer masculinity. ‘But I’m not offering myself.’
‘No?’ Acheron dipped his handsome head and nibbled at the corner of her inviting mouth, invading with his tongue as soon as she parted her succulent lips. Without further ado, he hauled her up against him, hands weaving across her slender back and then sliding up to glance over the taut peaks of her breasts in a caress that made her shiver.
That single kiss