Читать книгу The Rival's Heir - Joss Wood - Страница 13

Four

After twenty-four hours of looking after Jac, Judah was hanging on to the end of his rope with his teeth. He was exhausted. He needed a shower and to sleep for a week.

Jac, he was certain, was as shattered as he was. She constantly needed to be reassured. She did this incredibly effectively, by crying incessantly. He’d changed her, fed her, held her, paced the room with her but the kid just cried.

And then she cried some more.

How had he done this as a child, a teenager? He must’ve had a guardian angel, some celestial being giving him guidance, because, God knew, the adults in the house hadn’t been interested.

Judah pushed his hand into his hair and wondered, again, where Carla was. He hadn’t managed to reach her the past twelve hours. For the first ten of those hours, he hadn’t been worried. She was in the air. But her flight landed two hours ago and she should have rocked up an hour ago. Judah tensed and reminded himself that Carla had the attention span of a three-week-old puppy. She was easily distracted and being an hour late was nothing.

She could be stuck in a traffic jam or held up at customs. There were lots of reasonable explanations for her tardiness. She would get here eventually. Late but begging him to forgive her, flashing that big smile and batting those enormous, expressive brown eyes.

He would forgive her anything if she would just take Jac and let him get some sleep.

Judah moved Jac up onto his shoulder, patted her little bottom and sighed when she let out another high-pitched wail. Why wasn’t she asleep yet?

Hearing the buzz of the hotel room phone, Judah walked across the presidential suite and lunged for the phone before remembering he was holding a baby. Cursing, he tightened his hold on Jac, shook his head when her volume control went up and barked a greeting into the phone.

“Mr. Huntley you have a visitor—”

“Send her up,” Judah muttered, banging the receiver down. He rubbed Jac’s back. “Your mommy is here, Jac. Think she can save us both?”

Jac’s wail was his answer and he nodded. “I understand your worry. But if I know your mom, she will have brought a nanny with her and you’ll be in safe hands.”

Sleep was within his grasp. He looked across the room to the open door of the bedroom, sighing at the California king-size bed made up with fine Egyptian sheets and an expensive comforter. Ten minutes, maybe fifteen and he would be facedown in blessed quiet.

He liked quiet. He liked calm. Most of all, he liked sleep.

Judah went to stand by the front door. He would stay calm, he told himself. He would just hand Jac over, not engage with his volatile ex-lover—screaming and throwing stuff was Carla’s favorite way to negotiate an argument—and then he’d lock the door behind him and strip off as he headed to his bedroom. He smelled like regurgitated milk since Jac had shown her disgust for the situation by vomiting all over his shirt. He should shower but he probably wouldn’t; his need for sleep was too strong.

At thirty-five, he was too old to go for days without sleep. He was too old for drama, full stop.

Judah yanked open the door. All thoughts about keeping his cool disappeared. “I always thought you were unbelievably self-absorbed, but this behavior is beyond where I thought you would ever go. She’s a little girl, Carla, not a doll—Jesus.”

Judah blinked once, then again before lifting his free hand to rub his bleary eyes. But when he opened his eyes again, the Duchess still stood in the doorway, her silver-gray eyes dominating her face.

Hoping against hope, Judah pulled her to the side and stuck his head into the corridor. Nope, no feisty Italian opera singer in sight. He looked down at his watch. She was now an hour and a half late.

Judah was, not to put too fine a point on it, starting to worry. He needed to start making some calls. Something about this entire situation felt wrong.

“This isn’t a good time, Duchess.”

The use of the nickname didn’t impress her, but Judah didn’t care. He was too tired to deal with an uptight blonde.

She stepped into the hallway, carefully shut the door behind her and looked at the still-crying Jac. “How long has she been upset?”

“Forever,” Judah replied wearily. “I don’t think she’s stopped crying.”