wedged into the crack when she tried to close the door in his face.
“Nice try,” he enthused as he waltzed into the bedroom behind her.
Her shoulders slumped. “Oh, have it your way. If you’ll feel better forcing your way into my bed, then so be it.”
Her phrasing rankled, but Harlan Patrick didn’t back down as she’d obviously hoped he would. He tugged off his boots, then stretched out on top of the covers.
“See, darlin’, my intentions are honorable. I’m not even shucking my jeans.”
“What a saint.”
He leveled a smoldering look at her then. “Not a saint, Laurie. You’d be wise to remember that before you start testing me.”
“I have no intention of testing you,” she insisted, giving him a haughty look before going into the bathroom and closing the door emphatically behind her.
When she came out again, she was wearing a too-big Dallas Cowboys T-shirt that reached to midthigh and brought a smile to his lips. If he wasn’t very much mistaken, it was the very same shirt he had given her on her last visit to Texas, a shirt he’d worn until it was faded and one she’d loved because it carried the scent of him. He wondered if she remembered that when she’d put it on or if she’d simply hoped that he’d forgotten.
She turned out the light on her way to the bed, then slid beneath the covers. The mattress wasn’t what it could have been. It sagged under his weight, which eventually caused her to roll toward him despite her best efforts to cling to her own side.
Harlan Patrick was still wide awake when she settled against him. He heard her soft exhale of breath and felt her snuggle just a little tighter. That was the second time in twenty-four hours when it took every ounce of willpower he possessed to keep his promise and keep his hands off of the woman he loved.
Five
A baby’s soft whimpers jarred Harlan Patrick out of a restless sleep that had lasted all of a half hour. For a minute he had no idea where he was or why a baby might be nearby. Then he felt the once familiar whisper of Laurie’s breath fanning across his cheek, felt the weight of her arm resting on his chest, sniffed the rose-petal scent of her perfume.
It all came flooding back to him then, the tabloid, the trip to Nashville, the rush to Montana. Those whimpering cries, which he judged from experience with what seemed like a zillion nieces and nephews and second cousins, were about to turn into a full-throated yowling.
Miracle of miracles, he recognized that those cries were coming from his daughter. His daughter. What an unexpected blessing.
He eased out of the bed and padded over to the crib. At his arrival the baby seemed to take a deep breath and wait, as if trying to decide whether the whimpers had accomplished her goal or if more-strenuous cries were necessary. Blue eyes, shimmering with tears, stared solemnly back at him. He felt his heart turn over in his chest.
“Don’t cry, precious girl. Daddy’s here,” he whispered as he picked her up and cradled her in his arms.
“Daddy’s here,” he said again a little more emphatically as he carried her into the living room of the suite and settled into a chair with her, awestruck with the wonder of holding his own child in his arms.
The whimpers subsided the instant he picked her up, but he figured it wouldn’t be long before they started up again unless he figured out what had brought them on in the first place. Again years of experience with other people’s kids kicked in.
“So, what’s the deal?” he asked. “You wet? Hungry? Maybe both?”
She seemed to study him quizzically, either trying to make sense of his words or trying to weigh whether or not to trust him. Suddenly that little rosebud mouth tilted into a crooked smile that came pretty darned close to breaking his heart.
“Did I guess right?” he asked conversationally. “I’ll bet there’s a diaper bag around here somewhere, but what about a bottle? Any ideas?”
She gurgled at him happily, as if imparting the information he’d requested. Unfortunately he didn’t have a clue how to interpret it.
Tucking her against his shoulder, he searched for supplies. As he’d anticipated, the diaper was easy enough to come by and no challenge at all to put on. The bottle had him stymied. He wondered if room service was up to the challenge, or was this something for