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‘Is that all you know about him? That he was a sailor? What about his name? Do you at least know that?’
Anne felt her flush deepen, torn between fresh outrage and bubbling amusement.
Hunter was making her sound utterly amoral, which was laughable since her sexual experience was limited to a few back-seat tussles when she was fifteen. After her mother’s accident she had had precious little time for the kind of freedom that Katlin and her older brothers had taken for granted during their teenage years.
‘His name is Dmitri and he’s Russian.’ It was everything that she knew and she sought for a way to get him off the awkward subject of Ivan’s conception. ‘Look, Hunter—’
‘Is that why you’re studying Russian, because of Ivan’s father?’
‘No, of course not!’ This time she was offended on her own behalf. ‘I’ve always been interested in Russia and Russians—’
‘Obviously,’ he cut in, with a pointed look at Ivan, who was now starting to fuss in her arms.
‘Not in that way. Shush, darling…’
‘I beg your pardon?’ he drawled mockingly.
‘Not you…Ivan.’ She couldn’t imagine anyone daring to call Hunter Lewis darling. ‘I think he must be getting another tooth…he’s usually so good. I told you, he hardly ever cries…’
‘Mmm. Let’s have a look.’
To her shock Hunter bent over and stroked a strong masculine finger down Ivan’s flushed cheek before slipping it into his fretful mouth, rubbing it firmly back and forth across his lower gums.
Ivan immediately grabbed at the thick, furry wrist and hung on with both hands, gnawing enthusiastically at the strange finger with his two upper teeth.
‘Steady on there, Tiger…Mmm, definitely a cutting edge emerging among the bumps.’ Hunter withdrew his finger and casually wiped off the sticky drool against his shirt with none of the distaste that Anne normally observed in males. However, she had no intention of allowing him to see that she was charmed.
‘Thank you for the second opinion, Dr Spock.’ Her voice was heavy with lofty sarcasm.
‘Actually I am a doctor, but not of the medical variety,’ he said meekly, amusement flickering across his hard face as she gave him a look which said she was supremely unimpressed with the information. She wasn’t going to let on that she had looked up his scanty biographical details in the university staff information booklet as soon as she had discovered his identity.
‘I suppose you’re as much an expert on children as you are at cooking,’ she said dismissively, hitching a wriggling Ivan higher on her hip. ‘Have you got any of your own?’
‘My wife couldn’t have children,’ he said, his amusement abruptly dying.
‘Oh.’
Was that the reason that he was no longer married? She longed to pry but the coldness in the deep black eyes was warning enough. She looked down at Ivan, and imagined what it would be like to know that this was as close as she would ever get to holding a child of her own flesh. A hollow formed in her heart and was immediately filled with a sympathetic ache of loss.
‘I’ve got some gel here somewhere…to rub on his gums,’ she muttered, suppressing the surge of unwilling empathy.
‘Why don’t you go and find it? I’ll hold the young chap.’
He reached for the squirming bundle and Anne stepped back, startled. ‘That’s OK, I—’
‘You like to be independent, yes, I’ve gathered that. Very commendable of you, but there’s no need to carry it to extremes. Give him to me.’
His hands were as firm as his tone as he slid them around the nappy-padded hips, and the small, undignified struggle for possession came to its natural conclusion when Anne felt the hard knuckles digging in and rubbing against her soft breasts. The friction made her nipples unexpectedly tingle and tighten and she hurriedly released her burden, hoping he hadn’t noticed her body’s small, betraying reaction.
Of course, he had. As he stepped away with Ivan his eyes flickered downwards and it took an effort of will not to wrap her arms protectively over her chest. He can’t really see anything, she told herself. Although the elasticated neck of her white blouse was fairly low, it puffed out over her breasts and there was also her bra forming a second line of defence. Unfortunately his gaze proved to be as disturbing as his inadvertent touching and she could feel her breasts continue to tighten. It was a delicious, alien sensation that made her remember with uncomfortable vividness the splendour of his earlier semi-nudity.
His eyes rose again to hers and she was impaled by the blade-sharp curiosity she saw there, recognising it instinctively as sexual. She was suddenly acutely aware of the physical differences between them. Was this how he had felt when she had run her eyes over him? Heaven forbid!
‘I’ll just get that gel…’ She spun away and rushed into the bathroom to fossick in the cabinet.
‘Control yourself,’ she scolded herself in the mirror as she found the small tube and snapped the cabinet closed. Her reflection looked shamefully hot and bothered. ‘Or he’s going to think you’re promiscuous as well as irresponsible.’
‘Don’t tell me you’re hiding someone else in there?’
