He didn’t take his gaze from hers, feeling her through their connection, the slow, smoldering burn that was more sexual than angry. She was fighting her attraction to him, and he’d already decided they weren’t going to fight it, they were going to go with it. She just hadn’t caught up yet.

Havin’ a hard time keepin’ your hands off me, aren’ you? Must be the famous Fontenot charm at work.

A faint smile curved her mouth into a woman’s secret weapon. She could take his breath away without half trying. Images of her mouth wrapped around his cock rose up fast and hot, her hair spilling around him, brushing his bare skin. The image was so vivid he could actually feel the sensations.

He blew out his breath and stretched his legs out in front of him to give himself some relief from the instant tight agony of urgent need.

Is that what you call it? Fontenot charm? I don’t think so, bayou man. I think you’re used to getting your way with the women and you don’t have to try very hard.

He had to get up, just for a minute, ease away from her just enough to function. She would be addictive. He already knew that and was past caring. He would crave her every day, every minute, but he had all the confidence in the world that he could make her feel exactly the same way.

When he’d managed to breathe away most of his hard-on, he winked at her and got up to pour himself a cup of coffee. He was just going to have to get used to the idea of walking around semihard all the time. It wasn’t a bad way to live, at least he knew he was alive.

He held up the coffee cup. Hot. Just the way I like it.

She rolled her eyes at him.

“If you two are finished making googly eyes at each other,” Malichai said, pushing himself away from the table, “I’ll do the dishes and get the kitchen clean while Grand-mere and Ezekiel go up to the attic.”

“Pepper, you should lie down for a while,” Nonny said with a small, telling glance at Wyatt. “I don’ think we have toys for the baby, but maybe she could play on your bed for a bit.”

“She wouldn’t know what a toy was,” Pepper said. “They don’t have the babies playing. Not like you mean. Everything they’re exposed to is to educate them. They’re learning six languages as well as sign language. It’s crazy the accelerated program they’re on.”

Nonny’s eyebrows shot up. “Surely they had playtime for them.”

Pepper shook her head. “Braden even had a martial arts instructor come in and start working with them. Everything they’ve been shown on the television has been instructional videos on hand-to-hand combat, weapons, or things like mathematics, of course the beginnings, but they know the alphabet or characters of all the languages and at night, not only are they read to, but the words, as they’re being read, are up on a screen.”

“That’s not right.” Wyatt glared at her as if she’d been the one to make the decision to give the babies only educational material. “What’s wrong with a little fun while they’re learnin’?”

He was asking her questions, but she had to stop using that soft, sultry, I’m-so-ready-for-bed voice. It didn’t help to think of her in bed – his bed. He stood across the room from her, just looking at her. Beautiful. A work of art. She was as perfect as a woman could get with her face and flawless body, with her brain and her courage. And the knife he knew she had on her right now.

Pepper frowned. “It wasn’t my decision. I was raised pretty much the same way. It definitely made me a good soldier, but when I got out into the real world, I had no idea what people were talking about. I didn’t know the movies they referred to or the characters in cartoons. I didn’t know fairy tales or anything but history and what Braden considered appropriate literature that would further my education. The lack of that made me feel socially awkward. I don’t fit in anywhere.”

Wyatt went very still. He felt a flash of her pain, of hurt – not physical, but a kind of anguish at the knowledge that she was different and would never be normal. She would never fit in anywhere. She felt absolutely alone, a terrible, almost emptiness that had been filled for a moment when Wyatt had poured himself into her. For that moment, she had felt whole. Content. Even happy.

He had been caught up in the way he felt. The sexual tension building between them. Fitting her into his family. Keeping her from tempting his friends so he wouldn’t be a fool and do something he’d regret. All about him. He hadn’t stopped to consider what she felt, trapped in his home, her child claimed by a man she didn’t know or trust. She was biding her time – waiting until she was at full strength before she made her move to leave.

He went to her, ignoring the others, and gently helped her to stand. Handing her the nearly empty bag of fluids, he lifted her into his arms. “I’m not goin’ to hurt you, Pepper,” he murmured softly, needing to give her reassurance even more than she needed to hear it. He couldn’t bear for her to feel afraid, or lonely or a misfit.

She pressed her lips together tightly and gave a little shake of her head. She knew what he meant.

“Look at me, baby. I want to see your eyes. I want you to look into mine.” He waited there, cradling her close to his chest. When she finally complied, very reluctantly, he held her gaze captive with his. “I’m not goin’ to hurt you, woman.”

She blinked back the tears that were suddenly swimming in her eyes, making the color more purple than black. The sight turned him soft inside.