Divided Hearts by Susan R. Hughes Page A

grateful that she’d run into Simon by happenstance, in spite of the grim circumstances.
    “I’ve enjoyed having you here, as well, Faye. Very much.” Inching closer, Simon captured her hand, and she drew a sharp breath in surprise. “When you’re not around, I find myself wondering, what is Faye doing? Is she smiling that enchanting smile that touches her eyes as well as her lips?” His thumb stroked her palm in a slow circle, sparking delightful whorls of awareness. “Sometimes I smell your scent in the room after you’re gone—a hint of vanilla.”
    “It’s just my lotion,” Faye said absently, her voice sounding far off. The sudden heat in his gaze set her blood afire in an exhilarating instant, spurring her heartbeat to a steady gallop. She watched, mesmerized, as he lifted her hand to his mouth, his lips lightly brushing her knuckles.
    “What about you, Faye? When you look at me, do you see only Hannah’s father, or something more?” Turning her hand, he pressed his mouth softly to the tender skin of her wrist, and she felt her pulse thrum against his lips. Sensation danced along the nerves in her arm, scorching a path to her throbbing heart. Simon’s mouth twitched into a soft smile. “Do you see a man you could care for?”
    At first Faye didn’t reply. She simply stared at him, running his words through her mind, absorbing their confirmation that his attraction to her hadn’t been merely a figment of her own, or Laurel’s, imagination. As exhilarated as she felt to hear those words, she fought to restrain the emotion coursing through her, not allowing herself to succumb to it.
    Finally she managed to nod her head slowly, finding her voice. “I do care for you, Simon. Even though I shouldn’t.”
    His gaze narrowed. “Why not?”
    “It complicates things,” she struggled to explain. “We need to focus on Hannah.”
    “Don’t you think of yourself at all?” His voice hardened as he stared at her, his jaw tightening.
    “Don’t make me out to be a saint,” Faye said, attempting a conciliatory smile. “It’s no sacrifice looking after Hannah. She needs me. So does Jenna.”
    “And that’s all you need?” he asked doubtfully.
    “For now, I suppose so.” Faye lifted her shoulders helplessly, imbedding her teeth in her lower lip as she glanced away.
    Simon didn’t argue further. “Better head back,” he said mildly, releasing her hand. “Hannah will be up soon.”
    As he took the helm, Faye pressed her hands to her thighs to quell their trembling, keeping her gaze on the sparkling surface of the water.
     
    * * *
     
    Letting the stream of hot water flow over her, Faye absently lathered her skin, watching steam rise to fill shower. She couldn’t think of much other than Simon’s words of affection on the boat, the vivid memory of his touch making her shiver even in the moist heat of the room. Nothing more had been said about it after they returned to the house, with Mary being around most of the time. But knowing that Simon did have feelings for her—that his desire for her was just as potent as the longing she’d been suffering for him—had altered the atmosphere.
    This knowledge only heightened her confusion. What was she to do with it? She was alone in the house with him now, save for Hannah, sound asleep in her crib. Mary lived an hour away, and having run out of her medication, needed to go home for the night. But Faye had caught the stern look of warning Simon’s mother had given him as she left—she’d clearly considered herself their chaperone, and she fully intended to be back in the morning. For her part, Faye planned to head straight to bed after her shower, and simply avoid any compromising situations.
    She and Hannah were leaving tomorrow anyway; easy enough to get through the night and escape unscathed in the morning.
    Scathed by what? Was it so wrong to want him? She couldn’t help but replay Simon’s words in her head: Don’t you think of yourself at all?