Hard to Resist - By Kara Lennox Page 0,21

She knew that no matter how reassuring she was, Samantha would find something else to worry about.

“I’ll try.” She grew quiet, staring out the window with that pinched expression that had become habitual since the fire. Finally, she spoke again. “Mommy, what did you mean about the safety ’spection?”

“The— Oh. You mean what I said to Mr. Basque yesterday?”

She nodded.

“Mr. Basque said he would help us do a safety inspection,” Kat said carefully, gauging Samantha’s reaction. “He’s an expert. He’ll help us make our new apartment safe, so we don’t have to worry.”

Samantha looked horrified. “I don’t want him to come over.”

“Sam, I don’t understand,” Kat said, with as much patience as she could muster. “Mr. Basque has been very nice to you. He saved your life. He took care of Bashira, even gave him a bath.”

“I don’t care.”

“He let you play with his puppy—and you can’t tell me that wasn’t fun, because I saw you smiling.”

Samantha didn’t argue that one, because she knew she’d lose.

Ethan had made Kat smile, too, despite the tears that had been so close to the surface. It was something to do with those brown eyes. He had a tough-looking hard-angled face, not classically handsome but interesting. His nose looked as if it might have been broken once. But those tender, compassionate eyes, such a marked contrast to the rest of him, drew her in and made her feel as if everything would be okay.

She sensed he understood her in a way few others did. Which didn’t make a lot of sense, because he didn’t know her well, didn’t know anything of her harsh upbringing or the fears she harbored for her daughter, growing up in such uncertain times. He knew nothing of the guilt she felt for working such long hours, leaving Samantha in the care of after-school babysitters and neighbors far too often. She could have worked at a more traditional job that would have left her more family time and earned her a higher salary.

But StrongGirls was an investment in the future of all girls, including Samantha. If Kat had her way, by the time Samantha was a teenager, the StrongGirl program would be available to every teen girl in the country. It was also an investment in their personal future. As the program grew, Kat would be able to pay herself a better salary.

“I still don’t want that man at our house,” Samantha said, startling Kat out of her reverie. She’d thought this argument had run its course.

“Can you explain why?” Kat asked.

Sam shrugged, making Kat almost wild with frustration.

“All right, I won’t invite him over,” Kat said, feeling an out-of-proportion sense of loss. She felt a strong connection with Ethan. She’d even started to believe that they could grow the connection. She hadn’t been attracted to a man like this in, well, maybe never. Not even with Chuck. She’d never felt the body-melting attraction to him that Ethan already ignited in her. And since the divorce, she’d been too preoccupied with adjusting to single parenthood and launching the StrongGirls to even think about men.

But, really, a lack of time was just an excuse. She didn’t have to deny herself male companionship forever. Ethan could be the one to draw her back into the land of dating and relationships. Still, it was never going to work if her potential boyfriend and her daughter couldn’t be together in the same room.

* * *

ETHAN DECIDED to take Tony’s advice to heart. He would do as much as he could to fix up the apartment, so Kat wouldn’t be in a hurry to move out.

He waited until Kat and Sam left, and then he went to work. He hadn’t asked Kat about entering her apartment, but he didn’t think she’d mind since he was making legitimate improvements in his role as her landlord.

Tony was busy taking his test, but Ethan managed to recruit Priscilla to help. He opened the door and let her into the apartment ahead of him.

She gave a low whistle. “Man, this place is about as inviting as a prison cell.”

No kidding. Kat still had only two pieces of furniture and a lamp in the main room. There were no pictures on the walls, no curtains, no books, no TV, no knickknacks. The bedroom was slightly more inviting, with colorful butterfly sheets on the bed and a pink beanbag chair in the corner. But the bed was resting on the floor; Samantha’s toys were piled in a corner and her clothes

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