Page 43 of The SEAL's Duchess
“But this one’s just fine. She’s beensoexcited about you coming.”
His gaze met hers, and words stuck in her throat.
“Up. Up.” Ellie bounced on her toes, tulle skirt flouncing.
Ivy glanced helplessly at Ryder.
His mouth curved, the smallest encouragement. “Go on. She’s tougher than she looks.”
Ivy nodded, her cheeks hot. She dropped to her knees. Ellie’s face was still purple and glittery. “How’s my favorite butterfly?”
Ellie’s rounded cheek bumped hers, her breath warm against Ivy’s skin. She smelled of apples and toasted sugar. “Up, Eye-vee.”
Ivy scooped her up, all taffeta and sparkles. Ellie’s weight settled against her hip, fitting perfectly against her. Small fingers clutched her blouse, and Ivy almost forgot how to breathe.
For a moment, the three of them stood motionless in the entryway.
Ryder’s gaze lingered between her and Ellie, as if the sight had winded him.
Ellie pointed an imperious finger toward the living room. “Unca Cale!”
Ivy sucked in a breath, the spell broken.
Ryder cleared his throat. “Guess she wants to introduce you to everyone this evening.”
His palm settled at the small of Ivy’s back, derailing her. She would have to concentrate just to walk in a straight line.
“Come on.” His voice was subdued. “Let’s go see everyone.”
And for the first time all day, she wasn’t sure she could trust her legs to hold her.
19
“Tellher about that idiot tourist on the glacier.” Sarah aimed her pudding spoon at Ryder. “The one who thought hiking boots were optional.”
Ryder’s mouth twisted at the memory. “He was hypothermic, half-delirious. Kept asking if we took credit cards.”
“In the middle of a blizzard,” Wyatt added, bone-dry. “Because apparently emergencies should be convenient.”
Ivy’s laugh rang out, bright enough to make Ryder’s chest tighten. “Did you charge him extra for the trouble?”
“No.” He shook his head. “But maybe we should start.”
To his surprise, dinner hadn’t been awkward at all. Ivy had slipped into the conversation like she belonged, deflecting Sarah’s subtle questions with humor, matching Wyatt’s dry observations with her own sharp wit.
She fit perfectly at this table, as if the space had been waiting for her. She caught his gaze across the table and shot him a shy smile that made his pulse kick. He smiled back before he could stop himself.
I shouldn’t want this. Shouldn’t want her.
But he did, with a ferocity that made pretending otherwise feel pointless.
A soft snore made him turn.
Behind him, Ellie had finally succumbed to exhaustion, curled on the couch, her tulle skirt bunched around her waist. Her endless chatter and lap-bouncing throughout dinner had worn her out completely.
Ryder bent to collect her, but sticky fingers pushed weakly at his chest.
“No, Daddy,” she mumbled, eyes still closed. “Unca Cale.”
