Undercover Father by Mary Anne Wilson Page A

reminded Megan of the way Greg had whispered in Gabe’s ear before giving her that dirty look and telling her she was bad. The boy turned to Megan and that look came again, what her father used to call the “stink eye.” It fit. Rafe moved to let him down and Megan braced herself in case he came at her again, but he simply ran out of the room.
    Rafe was still there, a teasing glint in his dark eyes that all but made her squirm. “This isn’t funny,” she said. “And you scared him. You didn’t have to do that.”
    “I thought you wanted revenge.”
    “Oh, that’s ridiculous. His brother started it.” She opened her hand and showed him the fractured earpiece. “It’s ruined,” she said.
    He glanced at it, then back to her. “He hit you that hard that it broke in two?”
    “No, I stepped on it, but...” She bit her lip. “Then he got this all over my clothes.” She motioned to the blue stain. “He knocked me over completely.”
    Rafe came closer, breaching the safe distance between them. “Are you injured?” he finally asked.
    She couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. “No.”
    “Any bruises, cuts, scrapes?”
    “No, but—”
    Rafe abruptly reached for the brush. Moving as fast as the boy had, he hunkered down in front of her and started brushing at the blue on her slacks.
    “No, don’t!” she gasped, but he didn’t stop, and she found herself standing there, frozen, staring down at the top of his guard cap, relishing the sensation as he methodically brushed at her thigh.

CHAPTER SIX
    M EGAN FELT FIRE in her face and closed her eyes tightly while Rafe Diaz brushed at her thigh. When she opened them again, Mary was standing behind him, watching the two of them. She gazed at Rafe intently, then looked up at Megan, and out of the blue gave her a wink.
    A wink? Megan looked back at Rafe, at the top of his guard cap, but all she was really aware of was how close he was to her again.
    “Good, good, good,” Mary murmured when Rafe finally stood.
    He faced Megan with just inches separating them. “Gone,” he said. “Out, out, damned spot.” She must have looked vacant or something, because he said, “Shakespeare.”
    “I know Shakespeare,” she murmured, and looked down at her slacks. She’d definitely lost her dignity, but she’d also lost the spot. The blue was gone. She couldn’t believe it, and bent over to take a closer look. Rafe leaned forward at the same time, and her head hit his and she saw stars. People really see stars, she thought, as she moved back with a gasp and stumbled against the chair.
    Rafe caught her by her shoulders to keep her on her feet. “Oh, my!” she gasped, touching her forehead gingerly with her fingertips as she closed her eyes tightly.
    “I’m sorry,” he said softly, and she felt the heat of his breath brush her face. She trembled. “Are you okay?”
    She opened her eyes, and he was so close his features were blurry. Too close. Much too close. “Yes, I’m okay,” she managed to answer, and sank back into the chair behind her.
    The instant she sat down, she knew it was a mistake. All it did was make him seem overwhelming as he stood above her. He frowned and bent down, grabbing his hat from the floor, then crouched in front of her, hat in hand. “You’re going to have a nasty knot there, maybe a bruise,” he said, gesturing to her forehead.
    “Great,” she muttered. “What else can happen today?”
    That made him smile, and she saw the dimple come back, enticingly close to lips that held a soft upward curve. “Don’t even ask,” he murmured. “Just be careful.”
    She’d forgotten about Mary until she realized that the older woman was back behind the desk, watching their little show. “As long as those two miniature tornadoes are kept corralled, I think I’ll be safe,” Megan declared.
    “I offered to lock them up,” Rafe said easily as he stood, towering over her once again.
    She looked up at him, into those dark eyes. “I think