Page 57 of The Baby-whisperer and the Brute
“Angelina. Look at me.”
Swallowing hard, I forced my gaze to connect with his. The light blue eyes held a knowing smile.
“I didn’t kiss her. Her lipstick’s on my ear because we went to a nightclub. The music was really loud, and she leaned over and spoke next to my ear a few times so I could hear her. Nothing happened between us.”
So heknew. He could tell I was jealous. He felt sorry for me.
Ugh.
I stiffened and tugged at my manacled wrist, wishing fervently I had just gone to bed, that I’d never put on this stupid red dress in the first place.
“I don’t care,” I lied. “I mean—it’s none of my business. You don’t have to explain anything to me. I don’t care what you do.”
Sully rose from the couch, keeping his gentle hold on my wrist, towering over me now. We were standing close. I could feel the warmth of his body, and that yummy cologne smell was more intense. More intoxicating. My heart raced so hard I felt dizzy.
“Are you sure?” His voice was a soft tease. “Because it kinda sounds like you do.”
He released my arm and brought his hand up to push my hair back from my face. Two fingers lingered on my cheek, caressing it in the barest whisper of a touch.
The gesture was gentle, almost reverential, and it caused a shiver to pass through me, lifting all the downy hairs on my arms and the back of my neck.
Sully whispered, “If I didn’t know better, I might think you were a little… jealous?”
All my breath left my lungs in a whoosh. I felt like I’d been punched in the solar plexus. I was a trapped bird, desperate to escape.
On the other hand, I also felt like this was the only place I could possibly want to be—dangerously close to this dangerous man, at the epicenter of his focus.
I shook my head rapidly, training my gaze on his chest, his bicep, anywhere but those probing ice-blue eyes.
“No,” I managed to whisper. “I wasn’t. I’m not.”
Sully’s hand opened, sliding into my hair, lifting it and sifting through the length of it.
“I would be,” he said quietly. “If I thought you were out with some guy, having a good time, letting him kiss you and run his hands through this gorgeous hair… I’d bewickedjealous. Just thinking of it right now is pissing me off. I’d hate it.”
Now I lifted my eyes, searching his for signs that he was joking, that he was teasing me.
There were none. He looked deadly serious in fact.
There was heat in his gaze, and his Adam’s apple made a slow circuit up and down the thick column of his throat as he swallowed.
“Angelina… I went out with Bree tonight because—”
“Daddy?”
The small voice from behind me made me jump away from Sully and whirl around. There, standing in her pink nightgown and clutching her stuffed dachshund, was his oldest daughter.
“Skyla.” I crouched and moved toward the child. “Are you okay, honey? What’s the matter?”
Sully went to her as well, picking her up and kissing her sheet-marked cheek. “Did you have a bad dream, baby?”
Skyla shook her head, the messy dark curls bouncing. “No. Claire is coughing really loud and woke me up. She’s sick, I think.”
I rose and hurried toward the stairs. “Okay, thank you for letting us know, honey. We’ll check on her.”
Carrying his daughter, Sully followed me up the stairs, both of us moving quickly toward the littlest Reece’s room. The problem was obvious before I’d even opened the door—I recognized the loud, harsh cough that strongly resembled the bark of a seal.
I turned back to Sully.
