Single Dads Collection - Lynne Marshall Mills & Boon e-Book Collections

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you, not me. It’s about you refusing to let go and loosen up.’

      She leaned forward and poked him in the chest. ‘No, this is about you equating my loosening up, as you call it, with whether I’ll sleep with you or not.’

      ‘I’m not that pathetic.’

      ‘Really?’ She folded her arms. ‘That night you told me you thought I needed a friend—that’s the role you were playing—but you didn’t really mean it, did you?’ Her voice wobbled and she winced at the vulnerability that stretched through it. ‘A real friend wants what’s best for their friends. They don’t want to see them do something that will hurt them.’

      His hands clenched, his muscles stiffened and all she could think of was the way he’d held her when she’d cried, the concern in his eyes when she’d emerged from his study after her phone call to Diane.

      ‘Look at me, Cade,’ she insisted. ‘I’m a mess! You’re letting your frustration and your hormones override your judgement. You know all the reasons why we shouldn’t …’ She waved a hand to indicate what it was they shouldn’t be doing. ‘But you’re still crazy angry with me. Well, let me plant one seriously scary picture in your mind.’

      He’d gone still. She had to pause to drag in a breath. ‘I might’ve come to the conclusion that Brad and I are better off apart, but it doesn’t mean I’ve reconciled myself to the loss of the life I’d planned and dreamed about or to the children I dreamed of having.’

      She closed her eyes against a rush of pain. When she opened them again she saw that Cade’s shoulders had slumped. She had to swallow before she could continue. ‘I want children so bad that some days I can’t see straight. My head is not screwed on right at the moment.’ She hitched up her chin. ‘Say we do start an affair. What if that yearning takes me over? What if we’re not as careful as we might be one time and then we’re dealing with that? Do you want to be a part of that?’ she asked hoarsely.

      ‘No.’

      ‘Me neither.’

      Neither of them moved. Neither of them said a word.

      ‘Can I put the children to bed now?’ she whispered.

      ‘Please.’ He nodded, his voice as hoarse as hers.

      She fled before she could do anything stupid like kiss him.

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      CADE jerked awake from a dead sleep. What the …?

      Thump! Somebody whacked his feet. For the second time, he suspected.

      ‘Get up, Cade.’

      ‘Mum? What the hell …?’ He struggled upright and tried to blink sleep from his eyes. His room was in complete darkness.

      He clicked on the bedside light. The clock showed three a.m. He snapped into instant alertness. ‘Who’s ill?’ He shot out of bed, pulling a T-shirt on over his head. He didn’t bother with jeans over his boxers. This far from civilization, every second counted. If someone needed the Flying Doctor …

      An icy hand wrapped about his heart. ‘Ella? Holly?’ he croaked.

      Verity Hindmarsh folded her arms and glared at him. ‘It’s not serious but it’s certainly unpleasant and of your making. So you can haul your butt out there and help that poor girl.’

      He didn’t wait to hear more, but shot towards the children’s bedrooms. He stopped short in Ella’s doorway and his heart clenched. Nicola sat on Ella’s bed holding a bowl for the child as she was monumentally and comprehensively sick. There was evidence that Ella had been sick before Nicola had been able to reach her.

      To make Nicola’s task all the more difficult, Holly clung to her, grizzling into her neck. He could see that Holly had been sick all over herself and Nicola. Nicola’s cotton nightie clung to one breast, the wet material practically transparent.

      He turned his gaze away and pushed himself forward into the room. Nicola glanced up and relief lit her eyes. How long had she been struggling with this alone?

      Ella lifted her head, her eyes swimming with tears, her face a picture of misery. ‘Daddy, I did eat too many lollies and they made me vomit.’

      Only she pronounced it ‘bomit’, which would normally have made him smile, except …

      It’s not serious, but it’s … of your making.

      He’d created this mess? He’d made his children sick? Bile rose in his throat as he battled a cold, hard anger with himself. There’d be plenty of time for recriminations later. Recriminations wouldn’t help Ella and Holly at the moment. Or Nicola.

      He swallowed. ‘What can I do?’

      ‘Holly needs to be cleaned up. Ella …’

      Her eyes told him that Ella wasn’t through with being sick yet.

      ‘Holly, honey, you want to go to Daddy?’

      Holly screamed and clung tighter to Nicola’s neck. Ella started to cry. ‘I want Daddy to stay here.’

      No further communication was needed. He took Nicola’s spot on the bed. She handed him a damp washcloth and a clean bowl. ‘I won’t be long.’

      ‘Take the time to have a shower too,’ he said softly. She deserved to be as comfortable as she could be given the situation. He predicted that with Holly in her current mood, it’d take them an age to get her back down to sleep.

      She glanced down at the front of herself and her cheeks reddened. With a nod she was gone, taking Holly, the dirty bowl and her magnificent breasts with her.

      He shook that last thought away and tended his daughter.

      Nicola was back wearing a fresh nightie and a terry-towelling robe in less time than he dreamed possible. He frowned. ‘Holly?’

      ‘Sleeping like a baby.’

      He gaped. ‘But how …?’

      She shrugged but her eyes danced. ‘What can I say? I’m a hell of a woman.’

      Her teasing lightened something inside him. She’d returned smelling all the more strongly of strawberry jam and it eased the sour smell of sickness that pervaded the room. He pulled a deep breath of it into his lungs.

      ‘Besides, it’s what you pay me for.’

      ‘You deserve a pay rise.’

      ‘Too many nights like this and I’ll take you up on that.’

      Amid all the vomit and guilt, she’d made him want to smile. He wouldn’t have believed that possible. He watched her assess Ella, who was drooping.

      ‘She needs to be bathed and her bed needs to be stripped and remade.’ She quickly and deftly removed Ella’s pyjamas as she spoke. ‘I’ve run a bath and as you’re stronger than me …’

      He nodded and took Ella through to the bathroom and bathed her. She cried and protested, but was too tired to put up much of a fight.

      When he returned to the bedroom, the bed had been made up with fresh sheets and Nicola quickly helped Ella into a cool cotton nightie. He tucked her into bed, the guilt he’d kept at bay starting to prickle and burn.

      Nicola knelt down in front of Ella. ‘Sweetie, I need you to take three little sips of water for me.’

      ‘I don’t want to!’

      ‘Honey, have I ever lied to you?’

      Ella shook her head.

      ‘I promise you’ll feel better if you have a little drink.’

      Ella finally nodded, but she needed coaxing and

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