Prince Charming in Dress Blues by Maureen Child Page A

Just wait till she’s arguing with you about her curfew!”
    She laughed, just as he’d hoped she would. “No arguments,” she said solemnly. “She’s not dating until she’s twenty-five.”
    He looked down into the baby’s innocent face and thought, nope. Thirty had a nice ring to it.
    Then she folded her fingers around his and held on tight. “I’m so glad you came over today, John.”
    “So am I, Annie,” he said, his gaze shifting to move over her features with a slow, loving caress, “so am I.”
    Seconds ticked past, and John’s gaze dropped to her mouth. Hunger clawed at him. Good old-fashioned need reared its ugly head, and he nearly choked on the rush of desire. Being here with her was almost enough to bring him to his knees, even knowing that nothing could happen between them. Not yet. Hell, not for another few weeks, at least. But damned if it wouldn’t be worth the wait. Two weeks he’d known this woman and one solid week of it they’d been apart and it didn’t seem to matter.
    He wanted her more than anything or anyone else in the world.
    And he’d do whatever he had to do to convince her that she needed him, too.
    Once, he thought as he noticed her eyelids drooping, she was conscious enough to appreciate his charms.
    She sucked in a gulp of air and slowly drew her hand free of his. Then she smiled nervously, lifted both hands and rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry about getting all teary on you.”
    “No problem.” Hell, she could cry on his shoulder for the rest of her life.
    “I just feel like I haven’t slept in—”
    “Days?” he asked.
    “Years.” She shot her daughter a quick, loving look. “Jordan seems to have a fondness for late-night chats and way-too-brief naps.”
    This he could take care of, he thought. “I remember my cousin Tina,” John said and stood up slowly, carryingthe baby toward the portable crib set up against the far wall. “When her son Jack was born? She swore she didn’t sleep for the first two weeks. But she had her husband to do backup.”
    “Yeah well…”
    He laid Jordan down and covered her with a lightweight blanket. Then, standing up, he turned around to face her and said, “So, why don’t you let me be your backup today?”
    She blinked, stifled a yawn and asked, “What?”
    John crossed the room to her side, pulled her to her feet and said, “Go to bed.”
    “I can’t,” she argued, glancing from John to the baby and back again. “The apartment’s a wreck and now that Jordan’s asleep, I should—”
    “Get some sleep?”
    “I wish I could,” she admitted, but then slid a glance at her laptop, sitting open on the cluttered kitchen table. “But even if I don’t clean, I should finish that Web site design…”
    “The dancing baby?”
    “That’s the one.”
    “Do it tomorrow.”
    “It’s due tomorrow afternoon.”
    “Do it in the morning.”
    She yawned again and shook her head reluctantly. “No time. Jordan—”
    “Annie,” he said, laying both hands on her shoulders and waiting until she looked up at him to continue. “Go to sleep. I’ll look after Jordan. You can’t work if you’re in a coma.”
    “Yeah, but—”
    “No buts,” he said, turning her toward the hallwayand the bedrooms beyond. The door on his left was open, and one peek told him this was Jordan’s room. A mural of cartoon teddy bears and tigers and bunnies danced along the wall, and over the crib hung a mobile of stars and moons in bright, primary colors.
    Not a good mother, he thought. Right. She’d made sure Jordan had whatever she needed and the rest would come. If Annie’d give herself half a chance.
    “I don’t know, John,” she was saying even as she opened the door to her bedroom and stepped inside.
    The curtains were closed and the small, elegantly furnished room looked dark and cozy. Perfect for an afternoon nap. A green-and-white quilt lay across a queen-size bed, and a mountain of pillows were piled against the headboard. There was