Which was all very well. The urchins might take spankings for granted, but Zoe certainly didn’t, and nothing was about to subdue her growing fury.
When the kids were finally asleep, Rafe went for a walk, and Zoe settled in the living room, stiffly turning the pages of a book she had no interest in. Another half hour passed before she heard the back door opening.
He was rubbing cold hands together when he appeared in the living room. His dark hair was glistening with snow, and his cheeks were ruddy from his walk. He sent one quick look in her direction, and then crossed to the fireplace. He wasn’t smiling, but the patient expression on his face was darn near enough to make her want to hit him.
He bounced down on his haunches and started stacking logs on the hearth. “I had major hopes you’d cool down, but I can see that you’re still mad. Okay, let’s hear it,” he said quietly.
“You bet you will! I think that was one of the most cruel, insensitive, heartless, unfair-”
“Honey. I laid three quick ones on his backside. I realize from his yells you must have thought I was killing him, but you can’t seriously believe I would have harmed a hair on his head.” Rafe held a match to the fire and then turned to look at Zoe.
“That’s not the point. He was crying! And you didn’t even let me go in to him afterward-”
“There’s no point to a spanking if someone cuddles him two seconds later.”
His calmness only further infuriated her. “How could you? He just lost his parents. He’s having a terrible time believing they’re even gone. So he threw a lousy book. We’re all he’s got, and he goes and makes one tiny little mistake-”
Rafe shook his head despairingly. “Little? That was a three-hundred-dollar lamp, he could have set the house on fire-and we’re really going to have to do something about this cold-blooded streak of yours. Want some wine?”
“No.”
He sighed. “Look, honey. I loved Janet like a sister, but she coddled those kids way too much. Jonathan was my best friend, and there’s no question that he took his role as father very seriously. But haven’t you noticed that the monsters are a teeny bit spoiled?”
“I don’t care if they’re spoiled. They need love,” Zoe said furiously.
“I agree with you, but that doesn’t answer my question.”
“You have to consider what the kids are going through right now!”
He nodded. “I did. I thought they needed to know that in a world turned upside down, there’s still somebody in control. There are still rules they can count on. I wanted to give them the security of knowing that some actions are acceptable and others are dead wrong.”
His words sank in. Zoe could feel her fury abating as a confusing moodiness replaced it. He not only sounded sure, but he sounded right as well. The kids did need order. And suddenly she could think of a dozen times when they’d probably been testing her, demanding limits, rules…and she’d failed to provide them. It had never once occurred to her that rules might mean security for them.
While she was staring at the fire, Rafe came up behind her. With a firm, sure touch, he probed the knots of tension in her shoulders. At that first contact, she flinched away, but he paid no attention. She was getting a back rub. He really didn’t care whether she wanted it or not.
Flames licked a circle around the biggest log on the grate, and hot orange sparks soared up the chimney. His nostrils inhaled the sweet cherrywood smoke as his fingers relentlessly kneaded and probed and soothed. She didn’t want to relax. Her silhouette danced in the shadows on the far wall, so small next to his. Her slim shoulders and delicate profile emphasized that she was fragile and the splash of damp lashes on her cheeks showed that she was vulnerable. He knew damn well Zoe wanted to be neither.
But she wasn’t moving away.
He applied pressure to her shoulders to get her to sit down. That quickly, she coiled up again. “Come on, Zoe,” he scolded. “Is the world going to cave in if you relax?”
Maybe. All she really knew was that the weariness of a long, traumatic day was catching up with her. Feeling helpless, she eased down on her knees next to the crackle and warmth of the fire. She didn’t want the comfort of his long, strong hands on the nape of her neck. Or maybe she did. Maybe she wanted it far too much.
She sighed helplessly. “Rafe, I don’t know what the right thing to do was.”
“Neither did I. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Zoe. That I can’t handle this alone any more easily than you can. This parent business is exhausting,” he murmured wryly.
“Maybe we should get them some books?”
“Maybe we should forget about children for a while.”
“I can’t.”
Rafe’s eyes softened. “I know you can’t. So let’s talk about them indirectly. Tell me about the man who was in your life. He wanted kids, didn’t he? Is that why you broke off with him?”
“I never said…I never told you-”
“So tell me now,” he said quietly. “Why not?”
He sat on the floor and pulled her down in front of him, his thighs bracing hers while he continued to rub her back. A gentle massage wouldn’t do. Her slender spine was so knotted up with little coils that he was tempted to wrap her up in his arms and kiss her until every thought of children permanently vanished from her head…but that wouldn’t do, either. For now, he wanted to listen. He needed to listen.
When he found the taut cord at the nape of her neck, she lifted her head. He firmly pushed it back down again, and discovered that Zoe was a helpless sucker for a scalp rub. Her silky hair curled around his fingers, catching gold lights from the fire. In time, loosening all those tight muscles seemed to loosen her tongue as well.
She told him how sympathetic her parents had been after her hysterectomy, and how she’d come to the point where she’d had to reject that sympathy. Pity wasn’t going to help her put her world back together. She’d thought Steven would.
“You loved him?” He stopped rubbing only once, to lean forward and add another log to the fire.
“Yes.” Her head was bent low over her raised knees.
“But he wanted kids.”
“Naturally he wanted kids.” She added wearily, “Men seem to feel it’s macho to appear footless and ready to pursue a brief affair, but they have the same nesting urges that women have. When it comes down to the bottom line, men want a home, a wife and kids. It’s no different for them than it is for women.”
“In other words, the bastard split on you.” Rafe couldn’t keep the sharp coldness from his tone.
“He wasn’t a bastard!”
He paid for hitting that nerve. Her eyes snapped open, and her shoulders grew tight; he had to work on those muscles all over again. In time, she calmed down…in direct proportion to his tensing up. Thigh-to-thigh contact had already contributed to an unavoidable male response, but now he found his jaw clenched and his arms and shoulders coiled as tightly as a bowstring. Leave it alone, he told himself. Only he couldn’t. “You still love him?”
She didn’t answer that.
“Look, Zoe. He was a damned fool. It’s not as if the two of you didn’t have any other options-like adopting kids if he was so hot on-Never mind, never mind! Forget I said anything.”
When her lips parted, he gently shoved her head down again, discovering he didn’t want to hear her defend the bastard. He also didn’t want her tense. When his fingers gently kneaded her scalp again, she arched like a kitten in the sun. That was how he wanted her. Free to be soft and lazy. Easy, sleepy, safe.
Out-of-control protective urges rushed through him. All he could think of was that her attitude toward kids made sense now. She felt she had to avoid men who liked children. The ability to have kids had been taken away from her, and that trauma had been followed by the emotional blow of rejection by a creep who had led her halfway to the altar and then ditched her as if he’d discovered she was a mutant.