Perfect Partners Part 3

He narrowed his gaze. "That's it? No, 'I told you so'?"

"Is that what you want? There are more important things at stake here than who's right and who's wrong. Is Alix okay?" she asked again, with what sounded like genuine concern.

"Yes. And no." Chelsie had managed to put him in his place and make him feel petty without resorting to feminine tactics. No tears, no theatrics, just honesty. Though impressed, he warned himself to proceed with caution. He'd been duped before.

"Which is it?" she asked.

"A little of both." He launched into a detailed description of his nights during the time Alix had been in his care, a summary that included a lot of floor walking and little sleep. "Except for the day you stopped by. That afternoon and evening, she was the child I remembered. The one my brother and your sister raised. I'm desperate enough to chance that it wasn't a coincidence. So I'd like you to spend time with her. Visit on a regular basis."

Her dark eyes widened at his request. He reminded himself that he'd had more than a few days to adjust to this idea. She'd had one second. If her offer to help had been sincere, he'd have no problem. If, on the other hand, her offer had been phony, a pa.s.sing thought to soothe a guilty conscience, he'd best find out before any harm was done to Alix.

"Evenings at the house, suppers," he explained. "Just help create a stable environment. Once she's sleeping better, you'd be off the hook."

She shook her head, causing her ponytail to swish with the force of the movement. "I can't."

"You mean you won't." He refused to admit she'd disappointed him again. He'd known all along that Chelsie had nothing to gain by helping him. Despite her claims to care about Alix's welfare, her initial interest in his niece had been for the sole purpose of helping her parents and reaping any professional rewards that entailed. After all, her parents had influential friends who could be persuaded to hire a new attorney.

Maybe she'd even suffered a momentary pang of guilt for the distance she'd placed between herself and her sister. Maybe not. For all he knew, her visit to his home could have been at her parents' request, as well.

"I mean I can't."

"Doesn't matter. Semantics aside, it all amounts to the same thing. No is no." He braced his hand on the arm of the leather sofa and pushed himself to a standing position. "Thanks for your time." Without a good-bye, he headed for the door.

"Hold it." Her voice caught him before he'd reached the hallway.

He turned to find her right behind him and reached out to grasp her upper arms before she barreled into him. Awareness flickered in her eyes at the unexpected contact. Her startled expression and flushed cheeks betrayed her inner feelings. He'd thought himself alone in this vortex of tangled emotions. That she felt the same desire shocked him.

The heat of her flesh coursed through his fingertips, despite the layers of clothing. Firm yet soft- another Chelsie Russell contradiction. This one caused his body to come alive. The desire to dip his head and taste the lips that had opened in surprise surged through him.

Before he could rethink the wisdom of his actions, he lowered his head to taste what she seemed to offer. His mouth met hers and her lips softened in acceptance.

His hands roamed over her. Even through the barrier of clothing, he could feel every curve. He exhaled, and his next breath was filled with her enticing scent, making his fists clench and his groin harden in unmistakable need.

Griff wanted more than a simple kiss. He wanted Chelsie. With that notion, stark reality and the reasons for his visit came flooding back hard and fast. His fingers, which he'd wrapped around her sweatshirt, uncurled as he released his hold and stepped back.

Chelsie simply stared, her moist lips mocking his current attempt at restraint. He'd been a d.a.m.ned fool, responding to a woman who angered him beyond belief, who made flippant offers to help and reneged when faced with the reality of her words, who toyed with a child's life. With that reminder, he backed as far away as the small hallway would allow.

"Well?" he asked, letting impatience spark in his voice. Better than the sparks that had flown just seconds earlier. Their physical attraction was an inconsequential but annoying fact, one he could ignore with enough willpower. After her easy rejection of his niece and her problems, that shouldn't be too hard. Or so he told himself, knowing he'd spend a ridiculous amount of time trying to convince himself of that fact.

"Well what?" she asked in a none-too-steady voice.

"I was on my way out. You followed. I a.s.sume you wanted something?"

She flushed a deep crimson at his choice of words. To her credit, though, she ignored his sarcasm.

"Come back and sit down," she said. "We aren't finished yet." She folded her arms across her chest and met his steady gaze.

"I have my answer."

"But not my reasons. I intend to give them to you, so sit down and listen for once." She brushed past him, shaking her head as she walked. Her decidedly feminine scent lingered in the air, hitting him like a blow to his midsection. Lilacs? He suppressed a groan. Chelsie Russell gave new meaning to this concept of self-control.

She cleared her throat, and he met her gaze. From the center of the living room, she motioned for him to join her. "How do you practice law if you haven't learned to listen?" she asked.

He listened-to everyone except Chelsie. With her, he reacted without thinking. That included leaping to unflattering conclusions without regard to the facts. Even when he heard what she had to say, he dismissed her words as meaningless.

Yet he had gone so far as to ask for her help. He had pa.s.sed the contemplation stage and had actually wanted to have her around his niece, so he must have sensed some thread of decency in her nature. Despite what had just pa.s.sed between them, she was right. He did owe her the chance to explain.

He groaned and followed her back inside to reclaim his position on the couch. "I'm listening."

"Okay." She leaned forward in her seat. "There's a lot more involved with your request than you realize. Asking me to give you a regimented schedule wouldn't work for any of us."

All business. She'd obviously put their encounter aside with ease. Just as he intended to do. So why did he find his gaze drawn to her still flushed face?

"My life is ... let's just say it's complicated," she said.

"How so?"

"My career. I work twelve-, sometimes fifteen-hour days, weekends included. Even then, my desk backs up."

That she'd put her practice before her own niece shouldn't surprise him. She'd hardly spent much time with the little girl before now. But he could overcome this objection with ease. "You could come by for supper. You'd have to eat anyway."

"At my desk, or on the run. As it is, I have to refer more clients than I like. Long dinners would put me even further behind." Sound reasoning, but for some reason, she couldn't meet his gaze. Perhaps she wasn't as confident in rejecting him as she'd like him to believe.

Sure as Alix would suffer from another restless night, Griff knew he would regret this. But the words escaped before he could think them through. "I could take on some of your work, lighten your caseload."

She stared. "I couldn't ask you ..."

"You didn't. I'm offering."

"Why?"

Beats the h.e.l.l out of me. From the day he'd faced off against Chelsie Russell in the courtroom until the moment he'd kissed her tonight, nothing in his life had made sense. Why should it start now?

"For Alix," he said. "Your niece." If Chelsie's excuses were sincere and he solved every one, she'd have no reason to turn him down. Suddenly, her acquiescence became important to him for reasons other than Alix. Reasons he wouldn't put into words.

"I don't know."

"Think about it."

"Work aside, I have other obligations to consider. Not more important, but they do exist."

Obligations, he thought with a strange mixture of dismay and frustration. And a tinge of jealousy? "Couldn't you explain to your boyfriend or significant other that you were doing a favor for a friend?"

She grinned, a teasing glint replacing the serious shadow in her eyes. "So you've elevated me to the status of friend? I'm flattered."

"I meant Alix."

"She's family." Her lips lifted again and a light chuckle escaped.

"Well?" he asked.

"Unlike you, some of us have obligations other than the social kind."

"What kind of remark is that?" Since the day of his brother's accident, his life had revolved around a two-year-old sprite, her whims and tantrums. Social obligations didn't factor into the equation.

"Your reputation precedes you."

"Do you always believe what you hear?"

"No, but coupled with my parents' information ..."

"And because they're your parents, of course you believe them." Since their lies had been exposed in court, he grunted at the notion. "Haven't you learned your lesson?"

"You're right" She sighed.

Something in her voice told him she understood her parents better than he'd realized. Coupled with the fact that she didn't lead their wealthy, self-centered lifestyle, but had made her way on her own, he believed her.

He leaned forward in his seat.

"I'm sorry for prying," she said. "But you did begin this inquiry into personal matters. Can't blame me for playing the same game."

"A little girl's life isn't a game."

"That isn't what I meant and you know it."

Truth be told, he did. "Look, I was engaged and it didn't work out. Last I heard, a monogamous relationship couldn't be cla.s.sified as having an active social life." When had this turned into a foray into his personal life? And why had he chosen to confide even a spa.r.s.e summary to Chelsie Russell?

He shook his head. "Back to you. Couldn't you put whatever it is on hold for a while?"

"Absolutely not." With another sigh, she released her hair from its binding. She ran her fingers through the tangled strands. "I said I'd like to help with Alix, but I didn't envision a scheduled commitment, one that she'd come to rely on." Her expressive eyes glazed over and she looked beyond him to a picture on the wall.

Another woman who couldn't handle the complications of both Griff and his niece. He should have known better than to think he could change Chelsie's mind. All the cajoling and mutual desire in the world wouldn't alter the status quo.

"I've got to get back to Alix. I heard your reasons and I accept them. Thanks anyway." Exhaustion overcame him, seeping in like a familiar but unwelcome visitor. He'd groveled enough for one evening, and he still had to make it through another sleepless night.

Chelsie followed him down the small entryway, holding the door open as he stepped into the hall. If he didn't know better, he'd think she looked distraught. But he had to be mistaken. Of the two of them, he'd been the one put through the emotional wringer tonight. She'd merely had the pleasure of watching.

" 'Night, Chelsie." He strode toward the bank of elevators.

"Griff?"

At the sound of her soft voice, he turned. "Yes?" A glimmer of hope flickered to life inside him.

She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again, shaking her head instead. Alone in the empty hallway, she appeared small and frail, in need of protection, of his arms wrapped around her slender waist. The elevator door opened, preventing him from acting on his unwanted desires.

Griff steeled himself against his warring emotions and stepped inside without looking back. He leaned against the grimy wall and punched the lobby key with more force than necessary.

When would he learn? Though he thought he'd lost his ability to trust, part of him must have foolishly believed in Chelsie or else he wouldn't have come. He'd sensed an emotional connection between his niece and the lady lawyer. Alix's aunt, he reminded himself.

As a result, he'd nurtured a silent wish that Chelsie would turn out to be different from the other women he'd known.

He stifled a bitter laugh. Chelsie wasn't different, just better at stringing him along. She had no more interest in Alix than her parents had.

Chelsie's hands shook as she poured herself a cup of herbal tea. Any residual effects of her relaxation session were long gone. Stress and tension coiled every muscle in her body. The look of disappointment in Griff's eyes had nearly destroyed her.

When had his opinion begun to count? When she kissed him? Felt the length of his body pressed against hers? Or when she'd responded to him in a way she'd never felt before?

She lifted the mug and the tea sloshed over the side. Men aren't supposed to matter, dammit. But this one did and so did her niece. How could she tell him the truth, that she feared developing an emotional bond with Alix-and Griff-only to have them ripped from her at his whim? Regardless of the fact that he needed her now, they'd part in the end. His abrupt ending to the kiss, something she should have done much sooner, a.s.sured her of that.

She'd always be a peripheral part of Alix's life. She wanted a relationship with her sister's little girl. But if she allowed herself to be a daily part of Alix's life, if she allowed herself to become truly attached, the resulting emptiness would be like reliving her own worst nightmare. Her miscarriage and the abuse that precipitated it had been traumatic enough, but the doctor's p.r.o.nouncement that she'd never have another baby had shattered her dreams and changed her life. She'd learned not to hope for what couldn't be.

Griff and Alix were a ready-made family, the type of family Chelsie would never have. Knowingly placing herself in a position that guaranteed emotional pain was plain stupid. She'd done the right thing. She would still see her niece, but on her terms. Safe terms.

Yet the look in Griff's eyes ... he and Alix were suffering. Though Chelsie doubted she represented the solution Griff so desperately needed, he believed she did, enough to put aside his lingering doubts and place Alix in her care. That sort of trust ought to mean something, she thought, coming no closer to a decision.

How could she place her heart in such jeopardy? How could she not?

Dusk was beginning to fall when Chelsie pulled up to the big house with the freshly painted white picket fence surrounding the front yard. Potted red geraniums, just beginning to flower, lined the three front steps leading to the screened-porch door. A child couldn't pick a more cheerful place to grow up, which, Chelsie surmised, was why Griff had chosen it. Cliched but perfect, nevertheless.

She took the bluestone walkway at a brisk pace, afraid she might turn and run otherwise. Not only was this house a child's dream, but a family couldn't find a more comforting place to build memories.

Mrs. Baxter let her in with a huge smile and warm welcome and directed Chelsie to follow her inside.

"Admit it, you coward. You aren't afraid of his reaction to your showing up without calling again. You're afraid his offer is still open," Chelsie muttered to herself.

"Did you say something?" The older woman stopped halfway down the hall and turned to Chelsie.

"I said I'm sorry to keep showing up unexpectedly." She forced a smile.

"Nonsense. Just follow me. They're in here." Mrs. Baxter gestured toward an arched entryway. "You're just what this family needs."

Her words propelled Chelsie into motion. She pivoted on her heels, intending to hightail it back to her car. She could be safely ensconced in her office by eight. Work still needed to be done. Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today. Wasn't there a saying like that?

She had taken one step when Mrs. Baxter called a halt to her cowardly retreat. "Alix, someone special's here to see you."

Chelsie had nowhere to run or hide. Reluctantly, she turned back again.

"She doesn't let that book you brought her out of her sight," the woman said, a kind smile etching her features.

"Oh." Chelsie's legs felt wobbly. She'd pa.s.sed the point where she could exit gracefully. Drawing a deep breath, she followed Mrs. Baxter into the kitchen. She only hoped Griff's mood was brighter than her own.

"I said eat it, don't throw it."

Chelsie stopped in the doorway and stared in disbelief as Griff wiped mashed potatoes off his face and shirt collar.