Emily bowed her head, her long, silky hair sliding across her shoulders in a multicolored cascade of biscuit brown, sand and gold. “Thank you, Mr. Fortune. I appreciate that.”
He liked the way she said his name, but he suddenly decided that it was not enough just to hear her say it in casual conversation. No, indeed. Before he was through, he would hear her whisper his name with longing and shout it with ecstasy. Wise or not, he was going to find a way to have Emily Applegate in his bed.
Then he would know all her secrets.
Four
Emily mechanically stroked the brush through her long hair, lost in thought and comforted by the mindless ritual that she performed nightly. The fact that she sat on the edge of a large, sumptuous bed made of pale twisted logs and belonging to Logan Fortune accounted for both her bemusement and her tension.
What an odd evening it had been. After dinner they’d sat on the couch and discussed her thoughts on child development and exactly what he ought to be looking for in a nanny. Logan had informed her that she needed to have her clutch adjusted, then had asked her questions about her childhood and family, but to her surprise, he hadn’t mentioned Cathy—or rather, Ciara Wilde—again. In fact, he’d almost seemed to be flirting with her, Emily! But no, that couldn’t be so. She simply wasn’t his type.
Frankly, she’d half expected him to demand an introduction to Cathy, especially since Cathy was at present right there in San Antonio, a fact that anyone who read the daily papers, listened to radio or watched a local news program on television could not escape. Emily wasn’t sure what to make of his seeming lack of interest in one of the world’s most beautiful women. Cathy—or Ciara, actually, though she couldn’t quite think of her that way—was very much Logan’s type, while she, Emily, was anything but. Perhaps Amanda Sue’s advent into his life had changed him more than she realized. More likely, though, it was merely a momentary aberration.
No doubt, once they found a nanny to take over Amanda Sue’s care, Logan Fortune would revert right back to his womanizing ways. Perhaps he would even forget about his little daughter and live as though she didn’t even exist. Emily couldn’t quite believe that, though, not after watching him fall head over heels for the little imp these past couple of days. He hadn’t even balked when she’d suggested that he ought to again sleep upstairs tonight, that his being the one to answer his daughter’s cries of distress would be a bonding experience. Of course, she’d promised to take over for him if Amanda Sue again seemed intent on keeping him awake through the night, but still, he seemed anxious to forge a real relationship with his daughter.
No, she couldn’t see Logan abandoning his daughter emotionally or otherwise, but neither could she see him genuinely interested in herself. She just wasn’t his type, and if she were, it wouldn’t mean anything because Logan Fortune was not her type. She wanted a man who would be happy to settle down with one woman, a man who would love and treasure her always. She couldn’t settle for anything less and still maintain her self-respect.
It was a terrible pity, all things considered, because Logan was everything she wanted in a man. Unfortunately, she knew Logan too well to believe that she could hold his interest indefinitely. No, Ciara Wilde would definitely have a better shot at it. Still, she had no intention of introducing the two, none at all, if only for Cathy’s sake. After all, it was common knowledge that her friend was engaged to be married to one of Hollywood’s most popular hunks. Emily couldn’t help feeling a little envious since her own life seemed destined to remain forever hunkless. It had been a very long time since she’d found a man whom she even wanted to meet for coffee, let alone date, any man besides Logan, that was.
With a sigh, Emily laid aside the brush, lifted the covers and slid beneath them. The soft ivory cotton of her short, man-tailored pajamas warmed against her skin almost instantly. Within moments, she was sleeping peacefully, unaware of the sultry dreams of the man in whose bed she lay.
Heart-rending sobs. Muffled words. Pounding. Emily jerked awake, aware that the door to her bedroom had been opened. Light flooded her consciousness, blinded her eyes. She blinked, clearing tiny patches of sight that revealed rugged furnishings and desert tones. She was in Logan Fortune’s bedroom, and those deeply mournful sobs belonged to baby Amanda Sue. She struggled up onto her elbows, just as Logan’s considerable weight caused the side of the bed to dip.
“Ma-ma! Ma-ma!”
Emily shoved hair out of her face and croaked, “What’s wrong?”
“I think she dreamed about her mother,” Logan said in a clearly anguished voice.
Emily sat up straight, folding her legs beneath the covers. The first thing she saw was Logan’s bare chest, burnished skin molding well-defined pectorals lightly covered with crisp, dark hair that dwindled sharply into a straight line that dropped out of sight beneath the elastic waistband of his fleece pants. Only then did she see Amanda Sue, who lay in her father’s lap without struggle, one arm thrown across her eyes, tears seeping from beneath it as she sobbed. This was no temper fit but deep grief. Emily leaned forward to lift the tiny arm. Amanda Sue’s temper reasserted itself, and she actually took a swipe at Emily, but Emily didn’t take it personally. She stroked Amanda Sue’s hair, crooning softly.
“It’s all right, darling. Daddy and Emily are here. It’s all right.”
“Ma-ma,” Amanda Sue sobbed. “Ma-ma.”
“I know, sweetheart. I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But Daddy is here.”
A worried look on his face, Logan shifted Amanda Sue into a sitting position. “That’s right. Daddy is here, and we’ll take care of you, I promise. Emily and Daddy will take care of our Amanda Sue.”
Amanda Sue took a deep, shuddering breath. “Da-dy go,” she ordered petulantly, and Logan looked at Emily.
She could read the question in his eyes. Did Amanda Sue want him to leave her with Emily? She probably did. After losing her mother it would be perfectly normal for her to try to bond with the first available female, but it was her father with whom she needed to bond, not a temporary baby-sitter. Emily shook her head, and Logan looked down at his daughter, turning her face up with a finger pressed beneath her chin.
“Amanda Sue, Daddy isn’t going anywhere. You’re my little girl, and I’m going to take care of you from now on.”
Amanda Sue’s snub of a nose was running, and Emily wiped it with a corner of the sheet, finding nothing else close to hand. Amanda Sue tried to take advantage of that to shift herself into Emily’s arms, but Emily folded her hands in her lap. Logan went on talking to the child in a soft, gentle voice, and presently she lifted a small hand to finger the underside of her father’s beard-roughened chin. He smiled down at her, dipped his head and nipped at her fingers, catching them in his mouth. She didn’t giggle as she might have at another time, but she didn’t pull away, either. He kissed her palm and her cheek, whispering, “Amanda Sue is my girl. Yes, she is. Pretty Amanda Sue is Daddy’s girl.”
Amanda Sue caught a huffing breath and solemnly asked, “Wuv Da-dy?” She seemed to be asking whether or not Daddy loved her and if she was expected to love him in return. Emily’s heart turned over, but Logan went as still as a statue. Emily felt a lump in her throat. She swallowed it down and moved closer, reaching around Logan to stroke Amanda Sue’s damp cheek, all too aware of the expanse of bare skin he presented.
“Daddy loves you, Amanda Sue,” she crooned. “You’re his very own little girl.”
She gave Logan a gentle nudge in the ribs. He jerked, then cleared his throat and smiled.
“That’s right, angel. Daddy does love you.” He gathered her into a fierce hug, whispering, “I love you very much.”
Amanda Sue’s fine hair caught