Читать книгу Valentine's Day - Nicola Marsh, Allison Leigh - Страница 13

CHAPTER SIX

THEY could hear Jamie crying the moment they stepped off the elevator. Max’s face turned to stone and he strode quickly to the door of the suite, using his card to unlock it. He disappeared inside. By the time the rest of them made it down the hallway and entered the room, Mrs. Turner was already packing up her things and preparing to leave.

“Well, I never,” she was saying indignantly.

“Just go, Mrs. Turner.” Max was having a hard time remaining calm. “I’ll contact the agency and have the rest of your things sent over in the morning.”

Cari didn’t waste any time with the woman. She went straight into the bedroom and crossed the floor to the crib. There was Jamie, crying his heart out. Reaching down, she picked him up.

“There, there,” she crooned lovingly as she pressed him to her chest. “It’s all right, darling. It’s all right.”

Jamie’s sobs turned into a long, heartfelt sigh, interrupted by a very loud hiccup. And then he quieted. There was a sense of relief in his last little whimpers, as though he recognized her and was saying, “Finally! Where’ve you been, anyway?”

She cuddled him close, breathed in his baby smell and felt a little bubble of joy burst in her heart. She’d missed this all day long. It made her wince to think she could have been here, could have been taking care of this child. She mustn’t let all her personal rules and fears keep her away. For once, she had to follow her heart, no matter where it led her. At least for now.

“Oh, you little sweetheart,” she whispered against the dark hair on his baby head. “How can you be so sweet?”

“Well, she’s gone.”

Cari looked up to see Max standing in the doorway. She tried to read his eyes. There was something she had to know. Jamie’s crying had sent him over the edge. That had happened right there in front of them all. There was no denying it. But had it been because of his empathy for the baby? Or was it because he didn’t think the nanny was doing a good job—and he couldn’t tolerate shoddy work from those who worked for him? Or had it been her nightmare fear—was it because of anger at the noise? That was a question that would haunt her until she knew the answer for sure.

She could see he was upset, though he tried to hide it behind his stoic, emotionless mask. But did he feel for the baby? Or was he annoyed with him? He hadn’t made a move to come to him, to comfort him or touch him in any way. What did that mean? She held Jamie closer and knew she couldn’t just walk away this time.

“All well and good,” C.J. was saying as she came into the room behind him. “But what happens now? You’re just going to have to hire another one.”

“I’ll get a better one,” he said stoutly. “I think I’m getting a better handle on this job now. I’ll know what to ask in the interview. I’ll ask questions about child care methods and philosophy. I’ll set up some scenarios and ask the woman how she would deal with each situation.” He turned to C.J. and Randy. “Did you see her? Sitting there eating a cupcake and yakking away on the phone while the baby was crying. That wasn’t child care, that was child neglect.”

C.J. shrugged as though it was all the same to her. Randy nodded sympathetically. And Max turned to Cari to see what she thought. But she wasn’t giving anything away. Not yet.

He came closer and looked down at the child, who was now gurgling happily.

“Listen, you’re going to have to teach me how to hold him,” he said, favoring her with a slight smile. “I’m not up on this stuff.”

She nodded. “All right,” she responded, heartened that he wanted to learn, but still wary.

“Good. And you can fill me in on anything else I should know before I hire another nanny.”

She nodded again, meeting his gaze and searching his eyes. They were clear and intelligent. She couldn’t detect any lingering anger or uneasiness. In fact, he looked relieved. That was good. But could she trust it?

“And right from the start,” Max went on, “I’m going to have one of those Nannycam cameras installed.” He nodded, looking around at the corners of the room as though planning where the camera would be. “That will help.”

Cari took a deep breath. She was about to take a step here, and she knew it was going to put her in emotional jeopardy. But she’d come this far and she couldn’t back down now.

“Forget the cameras,” she said, then pressed her lips together resolutely.

Max swung around and stared at her. “Why would I do that?”

Lifting her chin, she gazed steadily into his eyes. “I’m staying. I’ll take care of him. At least for now.”

“What?” He frowned as though he didn’t trust her motives.

She felt a quick twinge of exasperation. He’d been trying to talk her into this all day, and now that she’d agreed, he looked as if he’d rather go back to talking instead.

“I can’t disrupt your life that way,” he said, shaking his head and frowning at her, his expression wary.

She threw him a look. “I think you already have.”

“Wait a minute,” C.J. was saying, unable to believe what she was hearing. “You can’t do that.”

Cari looked at her over Jamie’s little head. “Sure I can,” she said calmly. “Why don’t you stay, too, C.J.? I could use the help.” She pretended to smile and made her eyes big and innocent. “We could share a bed, you and I.”

C.J. recoiled. “Are you kidding?” She shuddered. “Anyway, babies give me the willies.”

Cari turned away. They could go on bickering about anything they chose, she’d made her own choice. She was staying with the baby. There wasn’t anyone else looking out for him.

Max seemed to have his best interests at heart, but she couldn’t be sure. Some men couldn’t be with babies. She knew that from experience. Someone had to be Jamie’s champion in the world. At least until his mother showed up, she would be the one.

An hour later they were alone. Randy took a very annoyed C.J. back to her car. Cari taught Max how to hold the baby. He was quick to pick up the subtle nuances. All in all, she thought he was a pretty good student of on-the-fly child care.

“I wouldn’t say you’re a natural exactly,” she teased him as he awkwardly patted the baby he held against his shoulder. “But you’ll do for now.”

Jamie chose that moment to spit up. Luckily, Cari had taught Max to throw a clean burp pad over his shoulder before picking up the baby, so his silk shirt was protected. Still, the sound of the very loud burp made Max cringe and made Cari laugh.

“We’ll move on to bottle feeding tomorrow,” she warned him. “Think you’re up for it?”

“Why not?”

They put the baby down in his crib. Cari cooed to him as his big brown eyes drifted shut. Max watched her more than he watched the baby. There was something about her that just made him feel happy to be around. Very odd.

“Cari.” He took her hands in his and gazed deeply into her eyes. “I am so grateful to you for doing this. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

It was true. He’d been going nuts ever since he’d brought Mrs. Turner in and she’d begun her tyrannical reign over his hotel suite. Well, he supposed it hadn’t been that bad, really. But it had been bad enough. The dilemma had been whether to trust her or not when everything she did just seemed wrong to him.

With Cari it was different. Maybe they were on the same wavelength. Or maybe he just liked her better. It didn’t matter. What did matter was that he was calm inside. There was no longer a battle raging between his heart and his head.

“Don’t think of it as me doing something for you,” she said pertly. “I’m doing this for Jamie.”

He only half believed her. He knew there was a provocative buzz between the two of them. She couldn’t deny it, though he could see she wanted to. As though to remind her, he smiled and dropped a quick kiss on her lips.

She drew back, eyes widening. “No, Max,” she said quickly. “I didn’t stay for that. Honestly, I didn’t.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” But he didn’t sound very convincing, even to himself.

She turned and began putting away toys and supplies. He watched her for a moment, then asked, “So tell me, Cari, where did you learn so much about babies?”

To his surprise she froze for a moment, then turned slowly and looked at him with huge, shadowed eyes.

“I had one,” she said softly.

That surprised him. “You have a baby?”

She shook her head. “Not anymore. She died.”

His breath caught in his throat in a way it had never done before. Shock knifed through him and he felt pain for her.

“Oh, Cari,” he began, moving toward her.

She went ramrod stiff, holding him at bay. “I was married, you know,” she said quickly.

He hesitated, fighting the urge to take her in his arms for comfort. “No, I didn’t.”

“My husband and my baby both died in a car accident. It was two years ago.”

“Cari, I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head, not quite meeting his gaze. “Now you know. Okay. I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Of course.”

He watched as she gathered things into piles to go through in the morning. Knowing that she’d been married, knowing about the tragedy in her past, answered a lot of questions for him. He’d known there was something disturbing her. Now he thought he knew what that was. No wonder she seemed to hold the world at arm’s length. To have lost her baby and her husband at such a young age—horrible.

He wanted to hold her close and make it all go away, but he knew she would reject that. He would have to bide his time. Maybe once she knew him better, she would trust him. Oddly enough, he wanted that badly. In fact, he ached to do something for her— anything, and he wasn’t sure why he felt that way.

Oh, he knew the mechanics. She’d had tragedy. He cared about her and wanted to do something to help her get over the agony of it. But why did he seem to have this deep, unfamiliar need to do that? He didn’t remember ever having it before, not with anyone outside of his immediate family. Very strange.

Tito came in from visiting relatives in a local suburb. He was surprised to see Cari there, but welcoming enough. Still, he went off to his own room pretty quickly. And Cari knew it was time to get her sleeping arrangements settled.

She didn’t want to stay in the room Mrs. Turner had used. The nanny’s bags were still scattered across the floor, and her clothes were in the closet and dresser. So Max ordered up a rollaway and set up the bed in the baby’s room. That was for the best. She wanted Jamie to have the feeling someone was always there for him. No gaps. No more being left to cry his heart out on his own.

“I actually understand the theory behind what Mrs. Turner meant to do with him,” she told Max as they were arranging the room. “It doesn’t do to let babies think they can manipulate you all the time. But Jamie’s case is special. He’s missing his mom and he needs extra love to make him feel secure right now, not discipline.”

“I think you’re probably right,” Max told her, talking softly so as not to wake the baby. “I sure feel more comfortable with your methods than I did with the nanny’s.”

“Good.” She smiled at him. Everything he said was reassuring her. Still, she knew the best of intentions could evaporate when one was under stress. She wanted to be there in case she was needed as a buffer. There was no substitute for hands-on child care.

“I’m going to need something to sleep in,” she pointed out, looking down at the blue cocktail dress. It gave her a start to notice how low the neckline was. She’d forgotten. Her cheeks felt hot. Looking up, she saw that Max had been watching and was reading her mind. The awareness between them almost made her gasp. She turned away quickly and didn’t look at him again until he left the room and came back with a large T-shirt for her to use as a nightgown.

He began to talk about random things and she realized he was trying to put her at ease again. She appreciated that, but she didn’t feel comfortable. Despite the presence of Tito in the room on the other side of the suite, they were basically alone together. That made him a threat—to her peace of mind at least. He was too potent a force to ignore.

At one point, he made a comment about C.J. and she couldn’t help but give her own take on things.

“She means to marry you, you know,” she said, looking down into the crib at Jamie as he slept.

He didn’t flinch. Coming up beside her, he smiled down at the drowsy baby. “Yes,” he said casually. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that. But I’m afraid you’re right.”

She turned to look at him in exasperation. “How can you be so calm about it? You hardly know her. I mean, you thought I was her last night.”

“I wish I’d been right,” he said dryly, and she gasped, but he was smiling. He turned and gazed at her as though her naiveté amused him. “This is not a love match, Cari. If there is anything to it, it’s more like a business deal.”

“That’s exactly what she told me,” she noted, nodding. “You marry her, your mother gets the ranch. Isn’t that the way it goes?”

“Pretty much.”

She shook her head. “It sounds crazy to me.”

“Life can be crazy sometimes,” he said vaguely, waving her objection away. “But it has its own special logic. People get married for all sorts of reasons. To do it as part of an exchange of goods is one of the most ancient methods in every culture.”

“It seems way too medieval.”

“Really? What will you marry again for, Cari? Love?”

His voice rang with sarcasm at the word, as though he didn’t believe in it. That put her back up a bit, and yet she couldn’t really argue with him when she was going to deny the need to love in her own right.

“I won’t marry again at all,” she said instead. “I don’t need a man in my life.”

He stared at her for a moment, then threw back his head and laughed out loud. “You’re priceless, Cari,” he said. “But this is the way it is. I’ve been dating women for over fifteen years now. I’ve yet to find one I desperately want to spend the rest of my life with. Evidence suggests she’s not going to come breaking out of the woodwork anytime soon. So why not use a marriage to get what I want?”

She snorted. His cynicism appalled her. “The question is, why do you want it?”

“To save my mother’s life.”

That shut her up. She couldn’t help but feel it was a bit melodramatic. She supposed that was the Italian in him. But it left her speechless nonetheless. After all, what would she be willing to do for the people she loved best?

“Not that,” she whispered to herself as he turned and left the room.

She watched him go, then followed him out into the living room, ready to ask him more about this, but he sandbagged her with a question of his own.

“So what did you think of your blind date?” he asked, sinking into the sleek yet comfortable couch.

“Who? Randy?” She flopped down into a chair across from where he was sitting. Her chin rose. “Obviously, he’s perfect for me,” she said with only a tiny touch of sarcasm.

He caught her nuance. “Is he?” Amusement danced in his dark eyes.

“Of course.” She shrugged. “Hand picked, in fact, by my best friend, Mara. And she was right. Can’t you tell?”

He allowed himself a halfhearted grin. “Oh, yeah. Nice guy. Funny guy. I enjoyed him.”

“Me, too.” She punched a pillow. “He’s exactly the sort of man I need.”

“Ya think?”

“Yes.” She faced him frankly. “He’s very calm and very…” She drew in a long, deep breath. “Very ordinary.”

“Ordinary.” He frowned thoughtfully, then raised an eyebrow. He’d never thought of that quality as an attribute. “Is that a plus?”

She nodded. “I’m ordinary. What’s wrong with ordinary?”

He gave her a look. Maybe the word didn’t mean just what he thought it did. “Did I say anything was wrong with ordinary?”

“Ordinary can be okay,” she said a bit defensively. “I come from ordinary people. My father was an accountant, my mother worked in a bank.”

“Do they live in Dallas?”

She shook her head. “No. My mother died of cancer and my father died of a broken heart.”

“Ah.” He nodded. He understood that sort of thing.

“It’s true you don’t get the thrilling highs with ordinary,” she went on. “But you don’t get the bone-rattling lows, either.” She winced, thinking of Brian. “Excitement can be scary when it goes bad,” she added softly.

He noted the haunted look in her eyes as she spoke. There had been some scary excitement in her life, something that had gone badly. Of course, there were the deaths of her husband and child she’d told him about. Tragedies like that could have life-crippling effects on a person. But he had a feeling this was something more deeply rooted in the past, and maybe more specific to one person—for instance, her husband. What else could have made her so wary of a relationship?

It only made sense. When you lost a significant other who made you happy, you tended to be in a hurry to replicate that happiness as soon as the grieving period began to die down a bit. People with good relationships believed in good relationships. She was scared to connect. Something had gone wrong somewhere along the line.

He wanted to ask her about that, find out what was troubling her, but he held back. He didn’t want to scare her off, and he knew she didn’t want to talk about personal things. She had to be coaxed, cajoled and brought along casually. He would take his time.

“So what about me?” he said instead. “Would you call me an ordinary guy?”

“Hardly.” Her sudden smile was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, fascinating him. “You’re the sort mothers warn their daughters to stay away from, don’t you think?”

“Me?” He was genuinely startled that she felt that way. Truth to tell, he didn’t consider himself exactly ordinary, but he didn’t relish the bad-boy role either. “So what’s scary about me?”

“Nothing, I guess.” She was still smiling that radiant smile. “You haven’t scared me yet.”

He noted the “yet.”

“But you are a little larger than life,” she added, just to be clear.

He frowned, not sure he was going to like this. “In what way?”

“Let’s just put it this way—you’re a little too exciting. Too good-looking. Too powerful. Too adventurous. Shall I go on?”

“No. That’s plenty.” His frown deepened. “And not really fair.”

“Fair has nothing to do with it,” she told him firmly. “Do you think it’s fair that I’m definitely ordinary? I can’t help it. I was born this way. And naturally, if I’m going to have a relationship again, I need an ordinary man.”

There it was, the point this whole conversation seemed to be leading up to. She was giving him a message.

“Like Randy,” he said softly.

She nodded, her eyes huge in the gloomy light. “Yes.”

He gave her an incredulous look. Randy was all well and good, but he wasn’t right for Cari. She needed someone…well, someone more like Max himself. Someone with a little style and energy.

“You need excitement,” he stated firmly.

She shook her head, challenging him with her bright gaze. “No. I need security.”

He stared at her, mulling that over. What did she think she was, ready for retirement?

“Bull,” he said at last. Rising from the couch, he erased the distance between them, reached out and took her hand and pulled her up to face him.

“What in hell makes you think you’re ordinary?” he demanded, face-to-face. “You’re careful. You’re responsible. You’re a good person. If you think that makes you ordinary, you have a higher definition of the term than I do.” He looked deep into her eyes. “I think that makes you pretty special.”

She was tingling. He made her tingle more and more lately. Was that a good thing? Probably not.

What if he was right? That was what scared her. The thing was, Randy was exactly the kind of man she had decided she could deal with, if the need came. Mara had said it best—Randy was perfect. But did her senses zing when he smiled at her? Did she feel faint when he touched her? Did her breathing stall when he whispered near her ear? Did she tingle?

Hardly. Things never worked out that way, did they?

“I think it’s time to go to bed,” she said, pulling away from him and backing toward the nursery.

“Alone?” he said, pretending a plaintive tone, but obviously just teasing.

“Alone.” She smiled one last time, then turned, went into the nursery and closed the door.