Chapter 7 7

Tempting…so tempting. Both Stefan and the dinner. But if she let him in now, he'd only expect to be able to come back whenever he felt like it. "So go home and eat it.'' She was too tired to deal with him now.

"Listen, Alana, she's my daughter, too, and I barely got a chance to look at her."

A tiny twinge of guilt poked at her. "She has all ten fingers and toes, is in perfect health, and the longer you bug me, the madder she's going to get about being denied her dinner."

Stefan pushed his way inside. "Then I guess you should hop to it, huh?"

“Stefan."

'Have dinner with me, Alana. We need to talk."

It was the smell of the food that did it, she thought. Not that smile. Not that pleading look she'd never seen on his face before. Okay, he was right, they needed to talk. Getting it all out on the table, so to speak, would make it clearer to Stefan that she couldn't marry him, and that he had no right to contact her parents without consulting her first.

She nodded and he smiled, walking to the kitchen and dropping the pints and bags on the kitchen table. She was right behind him.

He turned and took the laundry basket. "I'll do this."

"I'm capable."

"I don't doubt that. But Her Highness looks like she's working up a scream."

Alana looked. Juliana was trying to move the walker, but her legs were still too short and all she did was kick the air in frustration. The baby was reaching for her and Alana's heart shifted. She handed over the basket and went to her daughter. "Come on, munchkin, dinner's on."

Stefan watched her with the baby for a moment. How Alana soothed Juliana, offered her a cracker as she set her in the high chair. She held a conversation with their daughter as if they were the only two people in the world, and feeling like the odd man out, Stefan disappeared into the garage with the laundry basket, assuming that was where the washer and dryer were located.

They were. He separated a load. Trying his best to ignore the sexy lace panties and bras, he focused on the baby clothes. Baby detergent, he thought, remembering a TV commercial for it. He started the load and went back into the kitchen. Alana was feeding the baby.

Stefan watched. He couldn't help it. Just the sight of them, doing something so ordinary, fascinated him. Then Juliana leaned out to look past her mother at him. His heart soared and he blew her a kiss. She smiled and spit food as she tried her best to talk to him, and Alana turned to look at him, a smile tilting her lips.

"I think we're communicating," Stefan said.

"That doesn't say much for your intellect."

His gaze narrowed. "You're crabby."

"I'm sorry. I'm a mother. This time of day we're required to be crabby."

He smiled, shaking his head and moved to dish up the food. "You ready for some chow?"

"I'll wait. But you go ahead.”

He frowned at her over his shoulder.

"I have to give her a bath after this. She sleeps better that way."

Stefan nodded. "I'll wait for you. But…" He fished in a bag and took out a few egg rolls, then cut them in pieces and brought the plate to her. "Appetizers?"

She snatched up a piece and popped it into her mouth. Stefan sat adjacent to her as she finished off the plate while she fed the baby. Then she cleared the dishes and lifted Juliana out of the high chair.

"Bath time," Alana said to Juliana, then looked at Stefan. "We'll be a little while."

A direct hint for privacy, he thought and leaned back in the chair and folded his arms. He wanted to be a part of their lives, not a pest. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Dang. Hopes dashed again," she said, and walked to the bathroom.

Stefan shook his head. She was as determined to keep him at a distance as he was to get closer. But then, she really didn't know him that well. But she was going to learn.

A half hour later, Alana closed the door to Juliana's room and stepped into the bathroom to clean up the mess in there. She was beat. And she really didn't want to deal with Stefan on top of that, she thought, bending to collect dirty clothes and towels. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and groaned. Her hair was coming out of the ponytail, she didn't have on a stitch of makeup, and her shirt had baby food all over the shoulder.

Some "I can handle everything" impression, she thought. She dumped the clothes in the laundry hamper and slipped into her bathroom to take a quick shower, run a brush through her hair and change her clothes. When she stepped out of the bedroom, the aroma of food made her mouth water and she walked toward the living room. Something more than maternal instinct made her pause at her daughter's room. She heard Stefan's voice, soft and deep, like the distant rumble of thunder. Gently she pushed open the nursery door.

He was leaning over the crib, stroking the baby's back. "No, I swear to you, princess, nothing is ever going to hurt you. I'm here for you, even if Mommy doesn't want it. I'm not going away. And I'm going to protect you. You can count on it."

Alana's throat tightened.

"I'll slay your dragons for you, princess. I give you my word of honor." Stefan continued.

Tears burned in Alana's eyes.

"And if she'll let me, I'll slay Mommy's, too."

Alana swallowed hard and tried not to notice the flutter of her heart. Quietly Stefan lowered the side of the crib and bent to kiss Juliana's soft brown curls. The night-light illuminated his features, fierce, and loving. Her daughter had a champion, Alana thought, backing out of the room. Whether she wanted it or not. But that didn't mean she had to like it. And it didn't mean she had to marry him just because he wanted it. She and Juliana had done just fine without him. She slipped into the living room and sank onto the sofa. She didn't want to doubt herself, her capabilities.