She was at the bar setting up for her shift. The restlessness twitching through Rico’s nervous system instantly settled at the touch of her smile. Instead of claiming his usual spot at the rail, he nodded and joined T-Ray, who sported a healthy bruise on his jaw, at one of the tables. A new waitress came to take their order, but he was too moody appreciate her flirtations. T-Ray had no such difficulty, offering a teasing grin and an encouraging wink. Rico only half listened to his playful banter, his attention on Amber as she took a call on her cell. Seeing her features tighten in a frown as she turned her back to the room was all the invitation he needed.
As he slid onto his usual stool, Rico caught the fierce undertones in her quiet conversation.
“What do you mean you can’t? She’s counting on you. How could you do this? You promised things would be different. My sitter has already made other plans. No. She can’t be there alone.” An exasperated sigh. “No! Don’t you apologize!”
Amber ended the call and turned at the same time, her expression anxious and angry. She froze when she saw his expectant smile.
“Hey. Trouble?”
She took a breath to deny it then her shoulders fell in defeat. “No. Yes. I was counting on someone to help me out and it fell through.” She rubbed at her eyes in frustration. “I should have known better.”
“Anything I can do?”
She started to brush of his offer then regarded him more intently. “What do you know about twelve-year-old girls?”
He held up his hands. “Absolutely nothing.”
That earned a reluctant chuckle and another troubled frown.
“This have to do with your daughter?”
Rubbing the tension lines on her forehead, Amber admitted, “I had someone who was supposed to be there when she got home from school, but they cancelled on me. Jacques’s not here today, so I can’t leave. I hate to have her come here to do her homework, but I guess I don’t have much choice.”
The words just tumbled out. “I could watch her.”
She started to wave off his offer then studied him for a long moment. “Are you serious?”
“If you need me to be. Girls like me.” He grinned, and the first shadow of a smile played about her lips. “She knows me, so it wouldn’t be like trusting her to a stranger. What would I have to do? Make sure she studies, eats her vegetables and doesn’t fool around with boys?”
Amber beamed at him. “You’d really do this?”
“Sure.” He shrugged. “Not like I have plans. How hard can it be?”
Her hand fit over his for a firm squeeze that hugged him all over.
“Thank you, Frederick. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.” Quickly, as if afraid he’d change his mind, she rummaged through her purse beneath the counter and gave him an extra housekey. “I won’t be too late. Not past eight or nine.”
“We’ll be fine,” he promised, confident in his ability to charm the near teen.
Until the girl in question regarded him with a stare as friendly as a double-barreled shotgun where he sat on her couch.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, making a quick visual search of the premises as her scowl deepened. “Where’s my uncle?”
“Uncle?”
She dropped her bookbag on the kitchen table and glared as if he was responsible for the notable absence.
“We were supposed to hang out until my mom gets home. He was supposed to be here.” Her tone stated that Rico was a less attractive option.
The guy at the door that morning. Her uncle. Amber’s brother, not a boyfriend. Not a sleepover. Rico’s mood soared, but he trod on the girl’s hopes gently. Such a cute little thing with her big blue eyes and willful pout, reminding him of Colin’s baby sisters. He could do this.
“He couldn’t make it. Something really, really important came up at the last minute, so he had to break your date. He’s very sorry. He wanted to spend time with you but couldn’t get out of it. I offered to fill in. You don’t have to pretend to like it, or me. I’m just second string, helping out your mom.”
She scowled at him, reading his eagerness to please, and not above taking advantage of it. “He was going to take me shopping,” she pouted.
Ah! Something he understood. “I like shopping!”
She was unconvinced. “He was going to pay.”
Rico grinned. “I have money, and I love to spend it on pretty girls.”
Her expression lifted. “Really?”
“Homework first. I need to check with your mom to make sure it’s okay.”
Her mood darkened, but only for an instant. “She knows all about it. Uncle Augie told her we were going to the mall.” Then she sighed dramatically. “But if you don’t want to.”
“No. Sounds like fun. You hit the books then we’ll hit the stores.”
“Deal.” Evangeline James grinned and dumped her backpack.
* * * * *
The sound of the door opening was accompanied by her daughter's laughter. Amber's maternal compass swung from panic to a polar north of outrage.
They entered the kitchen juggling at least a dozen parcels emblazoned with the names of trendy mall stores, faces flushed from the whip of the wind and eyes bright with enjoyment. She tore into their good time, teeth gnashing.
"Where have you been? No note, no call. I've been out of my mind with worry."
Rico regarded her innocently. "We went shopping. The girl knows how to work a mall!"
"I don't know where she learned that particular skill since she's not allowed to go there."
His expression fell. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."
Amber looked from her daughter's carefully blanked face to the shiny bags as if they represented Original Sin. "How are we going to afford this, Evie? What were you thinking?"
As the sharp crack of her tone crushed the girl's high spirits, Rico took an interceding step between them. "It's my fault. We were having fun and got carried away. The money's not important. It's my treat."
"Not important." Those two words filleted the skin off him. "Maybe not to someone like you who could blow his nose on those receipts. I'm sure you wouldn't have blinked if she'd picked out a bright-blue convertible to match the color of her eyes. But that's not how we live here in the real world. And we don't take extravagant gifts from strangers!"
"Mama, he's not a stranger. He's our friend."
Amber rounded on her daughter, seething with more upset than the moment warranted, but she couldn't hold back the rush of fear and fury. "How many times have I told you? Men don't give gifts, Evangeline, not without strings attached, and we will not get tied up in them. If I can't provide it, you don't need it. You'll take them back as soon as you get home tomorrow."
Tears wobbled as lips pressed tight in unspoken defiance. Because there was no place the girl could go to privately vent her embarrassment, she grabbed up the offensive bags and disappeared behind the slam of her mother's bedroom door.
"It's my fault," Rico began.
Amber whirled to him. "Yes, it is! This is my family, not yours. You can't come here flashing that big smile and your credit cards to get everything you want from us."
He reared back from her unjustified attack, stunned and uncertain, trying to defend himself and the child. "That's not what I was doing. We were just getting to know each other. I never let her out of my sight except when she was trying things on. She didn't ask for anything. I didn't expect anything back, except seeing her happy."
"And it's all about you, isn't it? What pleases you. What do you know about how hard it is to be a single parent? To raise a child in a world full of predators, to worry every time they're out of your sight that someone will take advantage of them?"
"I don't know anything about it," he said with a quiet honesty. "I've never had anyone but me to worry about. I'm sorry you were scared. I'd never do anything to hurt your little girl."
"Is that why she'll be up all night, crying?"
"I'm sorry. I just wanted her to like me. I didn't mean anything by it. I'm really sorry."
He took an awkward step back and another, and then he was out the door.
Amber took a big breath and let it out on a sob. She knew—knew!-Rico would never allow any harm to come to her daughter. But finding Evangeline gone still had her trembling.
She’d worked so hard for them to feel safe, for Evie to have the chance to live like a normal young girl. A chance she’d never had. Her daughter was a good kid—smart, kind, hard-working—but still just a twelve-year-old presented with a Prince Charming opportunity. One she herself would have refused with difficulty. But she would have, because owing a man always came with a bigger price than she could pay.
It wasn’t Rico, it was Auguste who had her temper flaring and her instincts on high alert. Augie with his easy affection and careless good intentions. She’d wanted more from Frederick Terriot, more stability, more trustworthiness when it came to her daughter’s care. And to her own fragile hopes.
As she approached the closed bedroom door, the sounds of muffled sobs twisted the knife of guilt. Evangeline, her angel, sat in the middle of the bed, bright packages strewn about her. Quick snuffles sucked up her tears. The rebellious fire had extinguished in the gaze rising to meet hers.
“It wasn’t his fault, Mama,” she said quietly. “I told him it was okay with you. I was mad because Uncle Augie wasn’t here. He was just being nice, and I got him in trouble. I didn’t mean to, but we were having so much fun. I didn’t mean to make you w-worry.”
Amber pushed the bags out of the way so she could sit beside the girl, opening an arm to coax Evangeline to burrow in close. All the anguish in her heart settled.
“I’m not mad, baby. I wish we didn’t have a reason for rules. But we do, Evie, and you can’t break them, even a little. It’s not that I don’t trust you, or Frederick. I do. But he doesn’t understand the rules, and we can’t afford to ignore them, not even the little ones.”
Her blonde head nodded. Amber placed a kiss atop the soft strands, gaze straying to the brightly-wrapped contraband, tightness binding within her breast.
“Want to show me what’s in those bags?”
* * * * *
A quick smile and wave from Evangeline as she ran out the next morning to catch a ride to school with Susanna LaRoche and her seven-year-old daughter, Pearl, settled only part of Amber’s miseries. She’d heard nothing from her brother, but that wasn’t unusual enough to cause worry. In fact, his absence was a relief when another problem was paramount.
She tried to hold tight to her anxiety as the dock shift rolled in at work on a wave of boisterous voices. She smiled at T-Ray and his two friends, all sporting suspicious bruises on their faces. But Rico wasn’t with them. Nor did he arrive at his usual time to take his place at her section of the bar. Because of her and what she’d said?
She needed to let it go, to let him go before she broke the same rules she’d set for her daughter. It wasn’t as if there could be a future between her and a prince in the House of Terriot. The very idea was ridiculous. They shared a comfortable friendship and one night of stolen pleasure. A night he didn’t remember and she couldn’t forget. And it would never be more than that. She couldn’t afford to let it be more.
But she’d hurt him. And that was no way to repay a kindness. So, she swallowed her pride and made a call.
* * * * *
She slipped into the big renovated building as a gentleman tenant held open the door. Seven floors later, after matching the number to the one she’d gotten from Mia, Amber pulled in a fortifying gust of air and knocked.
By the time he answered, she'd convinced herself she'd made a terrible mistake and had started to turn away. Then there he was, filling up the door frame, eyes wide with surprise, offering a cautious smile. His hair, short as it was, managed to still look a mess, and only part of his shirt was tucked in.
Oh, no. She'd interrupted something.
"Hi." He sounded breathless.
"I'm sorry to bother you. I'll be quick so you can get back to what you were doing."
He glanced over his shoulder rather uncomfortably but returned with a more genuine smile. "That's okay." He blinked. "Wow. I really didn't expect to see you here."
She couldn't tell if that was a good or bad thing, so she rushed ahead. "I came to apologize for yesterday. I acted like a lunatic. I didn't mean to come down on you like I thought you were a child molester. You must think--"
"I think Evie has the best mom in the world."
His words deflated her. "What?"
"I get it," he added, eyes warming to a butterscotch-hot-toddy gold. "I should have asked before doing something like that. No teenage girl is about to say no to some dumb guy offering her the moon. You were right to come down hard on both of us. We weren't thinking. I'll know better next time." A pause. "If there is one."
Amber just stared at him until he lowered his gaze, his smile twisting slightly.
"Oh. I get it. No next time." His head bobbed in acceptance of that. "Okay." His voice quieted. "Okay. That's cool."
"That's not what I meant. I'm trying to apologize."
The smile returned, broad and white.
"Really?" He fidgeted a moment, glancing over his shoulder, then offered, "Want to come in for a sec?"
"I don't want to bother you if you're in the middle of something."
"No bother. I was putting my laundry together for pickup." When he moved back and opened his arm wide, she stepped inside.
Amber tried not to gawk, but she'd never seen such a gorgeous apartment except in celebrity magazines. In soothing shades of taupe and ivory with bronze and wood accents, everything from the granite counter tops and leather furniture to top-shelf wet bar and big screen screamed tasteful affluence. Her shoes almost disappeared into the rug. He probably paid more in rent per night than she did for her monthly mortgage! To think he'd once slept on her ratty sofa and eaten breakfast on her old kitchen chairs.
The gulf widened between them as she crossed the ocean of plush carpeting.
"I wasn't expecting company . . . like, ever. You’re my first," he called over his shoulder. "Excuse the mess."
Mess? She glanced about, noting signs of a bachelor in residence. Unlaced boots in front of the couch where they'd been kicked off, with socks lolling out of them. Half a beer on the counter, surrounded by empties. Crumpled fast-food bags cluttering the stove's cook surface, and coat hanging from the closet doorknob. If he thought this was a mess, he'd obviously never peeked into a teenage girl's room. Or what it might look like if her daughter had one.
"Sit down. I just put on fresh coffee. You take yours black, right?"
He'd remembered. That surprised her. She looked between the glass-topped table and gleaming wood chairs to luscious leather and went for comfort, sinking down into the embrace of luxury.
He set the coffee cups on the table in front of the couch and plopped down next to her, angling his obscenely delicious body her way with his arm across the back and his knee on the cushion so it nearly touched her thigh. His heat leapt across the distance.
"So, has the home drama died down?"
Amber smiled at his concern. "It took a while, but a compromise was reached. But you don't want to hear all this."
He shifted, leaning closer. "Sure, I do."
Looking at him, all attentive and eager, she began with an awkward blush. "I let her pick two of the outfits to keep. The rest go back without any fuss. The keepers she has to work off."
"Which did she pick? The turquoise, I hope. That looked really hot on—" He caught himself. "Oh, hell. Did that sound pervy? I didn't mean it in a pervy way. It looked real nice for. . .a kid, in my big brotherly and not at all creepy opinion."
Amber couldn't help laughing. "Please don't tell her that. You'd break her heart. Me, I find it good to know, not that I was worried."
Her hand went to his knee for a reassuring squeeze. She could make herself let go.
Rico leaned back, relieved.
Silence fell between them. So why hadn't a man claimed her? That's what his eyes asked.
"I was young, and the situation was impossible. I decided we'd be better off on our own."
"That couldn't have been an easy decision to make," he said softly, without judgment.
"I really didn't have much of a choice. If I'd said something, I would've lost her. She was the only thing that made my life worth living."
She blinked away the sudden burn of tears and tried to laugh off her emotional response. But then his hand fit to her cheek, all warm and gentle, and they threatened to spin out of control.
"I can't imagine her being in better hands than yours."
He leaned forward again, this time closing the space between them to press a light kiss to her brow. Amber took a shaky breath and lifted her chin, making her lips available. An offer he didn't refuse.
His mouth layered softly over hers, fitting to every contour. Very slowly, he drew on her lower lip with a tease of suction before sitting back, returning too soon to his separate space.
Amber wasn't sure what she wanted to happen next.
That was a lie. She wanted him to throw her down onto that lush carpet so they could mate like minks, not that she'd ever seen minks going at it, but it sounded primal and silky. She wanted anything except his warm, totally asexual smile.
She gulped down coffee still hot enough for her to regret it and distanced herself from acting even more the fool.
"I'd better go. I’ve only got a few minutes of break time left. I'm glad we got things settled so there are no bad feelings."
"Are you kidding? You two are like family to me."
Great! Just what any woman wanted to hear from the male she wanted to make baby minks with.
As she rose rather unsteadily from the clutch of self-indulgence, Amber found herself nose to chest with him. She couldn't help it. She inhaled him like pure oxygen.
"Does your kid know how to cook?"
Amber blinked up at him, taken off guard by that odd question. "She can whip up a better meal than I can."
"How 'bout if Evie works off her penance in my kitchen. It's got everything but someone who knows what they're doing. If she can put a home-cooked meal on that table, I'll consider the debt paid in full."
Amber considered it, too, knowing her daughter would swoon over the chance to make a meal for a prince in this dream setting. "Are you sure it wouldn't be a bother?"
"Bother? It'd be a pleasure! Have her text me a list of whatever she needs. It's a date."
He had her hand in his, squeezing it happily. She wished she could feel the same things he was. Just friendship. Just fondness. She pulled away carefully and, with a forced smile, told him good-bye. And shut the door on her dream of a prince to come home to.
* * * * *
Rico stood staring absently at that closed door, savoring the sweetness she’d left on his lips. Again, a startling rumble quickened low in his belly, tightening like hunger but not quite lust, as if his body remembered the taste his mind had forgotten.
You’re going to ruin everything, you fool!
What was he thinking, kissing her? That’s not what she wanted or needed from him. He didn’t want her believing he was just another randy guy sniffing around for a quick roll that meant less than nothing. Because that’s not what she was to him.
She was his only friend, the only true connection he’d made here in New Orleans . . . hell, maybe anywhere, ever.
He had strike one against him already after that drunken disaster. And had dodged strike two with Evie. What a dope he was. The kid had played him like a pro. A grin slipped out. And he’d loved every minute of it, until he’d found the consequences waiting at the door to kick him out of it. The thought of losing the two of them had made for a miserable morning for the dozen who’d suffered for his foolishness. He’d been harsh with his lesson. Abel Conroy would have been impressed. Except he wasn’t getting through to the twelve under his command any more than he’d made progress with woman and child. He remained at arm’s length from the acceptance he craved, and he didn’t know how to close that separating distance.
He’d never gotten a second chance when it mattered. Amber James and her daughter mattered. They were something real in the deceptive role he was playing. Something he’d protect with every instinct.
Like family.
* * * * *
He got the text the next morning. A list that had him bubbling with expectation and willing to soften his approach to his band of rebellious followers. Instead of physical punishment, he sent them out in teams for a sensory exercise of sound and scent, one blindfolded, the other providing instructions to build something none of them had in an adequate supply—trust. While they were stumbling about the docks on a scavenger hunt, he was making calls to local grocers to stock the pantry for his guest chef. And while he waited for his band of not-so-merry men to return, he stretched out on one of the shipping containers with eyes closed to draw on his own stash of favorite daydreams. That crisp bite of first snow, the sound of it crunching beneath his boots as he ran a trail. The song of playful laughter from Colin’s sisters romping about without a care in their protected world, the siblings he’d pretend he had. The perfume of sex and sweat on warm female skin. He drew in deep and exhaled on a tortured sigh. Mia . . .
Rico’s eyes snapped open on a sharp gasp of surprise. The scent teasing about his memory didn’t belong to his brother’s new mate. Hers wasn’t the husky moan brushing against his ear, inciting a riot of urgent stirrings. The remembered hands clasping his hip and shoulder in a kneading frenzy weren’t smooth and strong, they were roughened by hard work.
They belonged to Amber James.