Читать книгу One Kiss in... Paris - Robyn Grady - Страница 14

When Natalie barged into the room, Mateo and Alex had been discussing the state’s current public hospital concerns. Mateo immediately dropped the conversation and peered past Natalie’s shoulder. Bailey wasn’t in tow and Natalie’s hands were clasped tight before her. Seemed unlikely—Natalie was one of the sweetest people he knew. But Bailey was a relatively unknown quantity. Had the women had a disagreement?

Natalie pulled up in front of her husband. “Can you ring and let the restaurant know we’ll be late?”

Standing, Alex caught her arm. “Is the baby all right?” “Too much milk after dinner, I’m afraid.” Alex lowered his hand. “Another accident?” “All over poor Bailey.”

Mateo was no stranger to babies’ assortment of surprises. He not only cared for pregnant women before and during delivery, he looked after their concerns postpartum. Many days, his practice was filled with the sights, sounds and smells of children of all ages. He’d been chucked up on more often than some people brushed their teeth. Part of the job. He wasn’t sure Bailey would be quite so cool with it, particularly given the trying day she’d had.

Setting down his glass, Mateo rose too. “I’ll take her home.”

“No need. Bailey’s fine,” Natalie said. “Other than needing a quick shower and a fresh change of clothes, and I have a stack of outfits in my pre-baby wardrobe she can wear.” She ran her hand down her husband’s sleeve. “Tammy’s settling the baby now. I’ll go see how Bailey’s doing.”

As she sailed away, Alex fell back into his chair. The grin on his face said it all. “She’s an amazing woman, isn’t she?”

“You’re a lucky man.”

Alex leaned closer and lowered his voice. “So, now we know they’ll be occupied for a while yet, tell me about it.”

“Tell you what?”

“About your date.”

“She’s not a date.”

“She’s an attractive female accompanying you to dinner. If she’s not a date, what is she?”

“Difficult to work out,” Mateo admitted. “Like I said on the phone, she appeared on my doorstep yesterday morning.” He went into more about the engagement and her dramatic flight from Italy, the loan and Bailey’s search for a job to pay it back. “When I phoned Mama today, she confirmed that she’d told Bailey to drop in.” Mateo dropped his gaze to the glass he rotated between his fingers. “Mama also asked me to watch out for her until she can make amends with her father.”

“Trouble there too?”

“I’m sure whatever’s gone on before could be sorted out with one or two calm conversations.”

“Family rifts aren’t usually that easy to solve.” Alex took a long sip of scotch.

“Either way, it’s none of my business.”

“So where’s Bailey staying?”

“I said she could stay with me—just for a few days.” Alex coughed as if his drink had gone down the wrong way. Mateo frowned. “What?”

Alex tried to contain his amused look. “Nothing. I mean, Bailey seems very nice.”

“But?”

“But nothing, Mateo. I’m only surprised that you’ve opened your home to her. You haven’t done that in a while.”

“You mean since Linda.” Mateo slid his glass onto the side table. “This isn’t the same.”

Alex studied his friend’s face and, inhaling, nodded and changed the subject.

“What’s happening with the vacation?”

“I haven’t made any firm decisions yet.”

“But you’re still going to France, right?”

It was more a statement than a question. His annual pilgrimage to Ville Laube was a duty he never shirked. But, of course, it was more than simply an obligation. He enjoyed catching up with the people who ran the orphanage. Although seeing the children conjured up as many haunted feelings as good. Each year he saw so many new faces as well as those who had lived there for years.

One little boy was a favorite. Remy had turned five last visit. Dark hair and eyes, solemn until you pitched him a ball—any kind. Then his face would light up. He reminded Mateo of himself at that age. Leaving Remy last year had been difficult.

When he returned this year, Mateo hoped that little boy was gone. He hoped he’d found a good family who would love and support him. He wondered what kind of man Remy would grow into. If he would learn from the right influences. Whether he’d always have plenty to eat.

Mateo confirmed, “I’ll go to France.”

“Maybe Bailey would like to go too.”

Mateo all but lost his breath. Then he swore. “You’re not trying to step into Mama Celeca’s matchmaking shoes, I hope.”

“Just an idea. You seem … interested.”

“You saw us together for less than a minute.”

“It was all the time I needed to see that you think she’s different.”

“Hold on.” Mateo got to his feet. “Just because you’ve found the one, doesn’t mean I need to be pushed down any aisle.”

“Maybe it’d make a difference if you didn’t fight it quite so hard?”

“Fight what?”

Both men’s attention flew in the direction of that third voice. Natalie stood in the living room doorway. While Mateo withered—was Bailey a step behind, within earshot?—Alex pushed to his feet and crossed to his wife.

“Nothing, honey,” he said, stealing a quick kiss. “Is the baby okay? How’s Bailey?”

“Judge for yourselves.”

When a stylish woman, wearing an exquisite pink cocktail number and glittering diamond drop earrings, slid into the room, Mateo did a double take then all but fell back into his seat.

Bailey?

While the bikini-girl turned glamour-queen crossed the room, looking as if she’d worn Chanel all her life, Natalie clasped her hands under her chin and exclaimed, “Isn’t she gorgeous?”

Mateo knew he was smiling. He wanted to agree. Unfortunately he was too stunned—too delighted—to find his voice.

“The first time Mateo and I came to this place, we were twenty-two,” Alex explained as a uniformed Maxim’s waiter showed the foursome to a table next to the dance floor.

“Twenty-three,” Mateo amended, his hand a touch away from Bailey’s elbow as they navigated tables of patrons enjoying their meals and tasteful atmosphere, including tinkling background music. “You’d just had a cast off your arm after a spill on your skateboard.”

“You rode a skateboard at twenty-three?” Natalie laughed as she lowered into a chair the waiter had pulled out for her.

Alex ran a finger and thumb down his tie. “And very well, might I add.”

While the waiter draped linen napkins over laps, Bailey tried to contain the nerves jitterbugging in her belly. She’d dined at similar establishments, although not since her mother had died. In the old days her family had enjoyed dinner out at least once a week, but never to this particular restaurant. Wearing this glamorous dress and these dazzling earrings, not to mention the fabulous silver heels, she felt as if a magic wand had been waved and she’d emerged from her baby throw-up moment as a returned modern-day princess. For a day that had started out horrendously, she was feeling pretty fine now. Not even tired. Although catch-up jet lag would probably hit when she least expected it.

Until then she’d lap up what promised to be a wonderful night.

Some people you couldn’t help but like. Natalie and Alex were that kind of folk. And Mateo … she’d wondered what he’d be like in friends’ company. His smile was broader. His laugh, deeper. And when his gaze caught hers, the interested approval in his heavy-lidded eyes left her feeling surreal and believing that tonight they might have met for the first time.

“I must confess,” Natalie said, casting an eye over the menu. “I love not having to think about the dishes.”

“I help with that,” Alex pointed out, teasing.

“And I love you for it.” Natalie snatched a kiss from her husband’s cheek then found Bailey’s gaze. “Do you like to cook?”

“I’m no expert. But I would like to learn how to prepare meals the way they do in Italy.” The dishes she’d enjoyed there had been so incredibly tasty and wholesome.

Natalie tipped her head toward Mateo. “You know your date’s a bit of a chef?”

Her date?

Hoping no one noticed her blush, Bailey merely replied, “Really?”

“We go over for dinner at least every month,” Natalie added.

Mateo qualified, “Nothing fancy. Just a way of remembering home.”

“His crepes are mouth-watering,” Natalie confided.

Bailey thought for a moment. “Aren’t crepes French?”

“Mateo spent his first years there.” As soon as the words were out, Natalie’s expression dropped. “That probably wasn’t my place to say.”

While Mateo waved it off, Bailey puzzled over what the drama with France could be. He must have seen her curiosity.

“I lived in an orphanage the first six years of my life.”

All the air left Bailey’s lungs as images of dank, dark corridors and rickety cots with children who lacked love’s warm touch swam up in her mind. She couldn’t imagine it, particularly not for Mateo Celeca. Her lips moved a few times before she got out a single, “Oh.”

“It wasn’t so bad,” Mateo said, obviously reading her expression. “The people who ran it were kind. We had what we needed.”

“Mateo sponsors the orphanage now,” Alex chipped in as, wine menu in hand, he beckoned a waiter.

Bailey sat back. Of course. Yesterday Mateo had mentioned he was a benefactor. She hadn’t thought beyond the notion that any donations would be the act of someone who had the means to make a difference to others’ lives. She hadn’t stopped to think his work in France might be more personal. That he was paying homage to a darker past and wanted to help those who were in the same underprivileged position he’d once been.

“It’s difficult for them to find funds,” Mateo was saying, pouring more water. “A small bit goes a long way.”

“You’re too modest,” Alex said.

Natalie added, “Wouldn’t surprise me if one day you come back with someone who needs a good home.”

“I’m hardly in a position.”

Mateo’s reply sounded unaffected. But Bailey detected a certain faraway gleam in his eye. Would Mateo consider adopting if he were in the position? If he were married?

She tried to focus on Natalie’s words … something about looking forward to dessert. But, as much as she tried, Bailey couldn’t shake the vision of Mateo playing with a child of his own with a faceless Mrs. Celeca smiling and gazing on. Not her, of course. She wasn’t after a husband—or certainly not this soon after her recent hairy experience. One day she wanted to be part of a loving couple—like Natalie and Alex—but right now she was more than happy to be free.

Did Mateo feel the same way? Natalie wondered, stealing a glance at the doctor from beneath her lashes. Or could Mama’s perennial bachelor be on the lookout for a suitable wife slash mother for an adopted child?

Finishing dessert, a moist, scrumptious red velvet cake, Bailey gave a soft cry when some chocolate sauce slipped from her spoon and caught the bodice of her dress. She slid a fingertip over the spot to scoop up the drop, which only smeared the sauce. Bailey didn’t wear these kinds of labels, but she knew something about the price tags. Often they cost more than her airfare home.

With dread filling her stomach, Bailey turned to Natalie. “I’ll pay to have it dry-cleaned.”

But Natalie wasn’t troubled.

“Keep the dress, if you want. It’s too snug on me after the baby anyway. In fact, there’s a heap of things you could take off my hands, if you’d like.”

Eyes down, Bailey dabbed the spot with her napkin. She was grateful for the offer but also embarrassed. Over dinner, they’d discussed her travels and lightly touched on the Emilio affair. Mention had been made of Mateo’s suggestion she stay a couple of days as well as Natalie’s proposal of work. Now the offer of a designer wardrobe.

She was beginning to feel as if she constantly had her hand out.

Bailey set aside the napkin. “That’s very kind, Natalie. But you don’t need to do that.”

“Chances are I won’t wear them again. Some mothers are eager to get back their pre-baby bodies but I quite like the fuller me.”

“Hear, hear,” her husband cooed close to her ear. “Now if you’ve finished dessert, what say we dance? Just you and me.”

Natalie laughed. “Oh, you love when the three of us dance together in the living room.”

“Of course.” Alex kissed her hand and found his feet. “But this moment I’m happy to have only you in my arms.”

As they headed for the dance floor, Bailey sighed.

“You’re right. They’re a magic couple. Have they been together long? The way they look at each other, anyone would guess they’d fallen in love yesterday.”

“They’ve been together a couple of years.”

“I thought they might have been school sweethearts,” she said, watching them slow dance to the soft strains of a love song drifting through the room while misty beams played over their heads.

“Natalie grew up in far different circumstances than she enjoys now. Very humble beginnings.”

Bailey was taken aback. “She looks as if she might’ve been born into royalty.”

“Tonight, so do you.”

Bailey’s breath caught high in her chest. Was he merely being polite or was the compliment meant to have the reaction it did? Suddenly she didn’t know where to look. What to say. But her mother had said to always take a compliment graciously. So, gathering herself, she lifted her eyes to his and smiled. “Thank you.”

Her heart was thumping too loudly to maintain that eye contact, however, so she found Alex and Natalie on the dance floor. Natalie was laughing at something her husband had said while Alex gazed down at his wife adoringly. They radiated wedded bliss.

“It was a good day,” Mateo said.

“Which day?”

“The day I helped bring their son into the world.”

Elbow on the table, Bailey rested her chin in the cup of her hand. “I bet you had everything prepared and everyone on their toes.”

“Quite the opposite. When she went into labor, we were at Alex’s beachside holiday house. It happened quickly.” He peered over toward the couple. Natalie’s cheek was resting on Alex’s shoulder now. “She’d miscarried years before. Alex was concerned for mother and child both.”

“But nothing went wrong?”

Mateo smiled across. “You saw Reece tonight.”

Bailey relaxed. “Perfect.”

“Alex had always longed for a son.”

“I suppose most men do,” she said, wondering if she’d get a reaction.

“Most men … yes.” Then, as if to put an end to that conversation, he stood and held out his hand. “Would you care to dance?”

Bailey’s throat closed. Perhaps she should have seen that coming but she was at a loss for words. Mateo looked so tall and heart-stoppingly handsome, gazing down at her with those dark, penetrating eyes. Eyes that constantly intrigued her. She wanted to accept his offer. Wanted the opportunity to know the answer to her earlier question—how it would feel to have his arms surround her. Here, in this largely neutral, populated setting, she could find out.

She placed her hand in his. That telling warmth rose again, tingling over her flesh, heating her cheeks and her neck. His eyes seemed to smile into hers as she found her feet and together they moved to the dance floor, occupied by other couples, some absorbed more in the song than their partner, others locked in each other’s arms and ardent gazes.

Bailey couldn’t stop her heart from hammering as Mateo turned and rested a hot palm low on her back while bringing their still-clasped hands to his lapel. Concentrating to level her breathing, she slid and rested her left hand over the broad slope of his shoulder at the same time the tune segued into an even slower, more romantic song and the lights dimmed a fraction more.

They began to move and instantly Bailey was gripped by the heat radiating from his body, burrowing into and warming hers. Her senses seemed heightened. She was infinitely aware of his thumb circling over the dip in her back. Her lungs celebrated being filled with his mesmerizing scent. Strangely, all the happenings around them faded into a suddenly bland background. When a corner of his mouth slanted—the corner with that small scar—her pulse rate spiked and her blood began to sizzle. She’d wanted to know. Now she did. Having Mateo’s arms around her—soothing and at the same time exciting her—was like being held by some kind of god.

“So you’ll be working for Natalie’s agency?”

“While I was dressing—make that redressing—Natalie explained they’d lost three cleaners in the past couple of weeks.”

“You don’t mind the work?”

“I’m grateful for it. And it won’t be forever.”

He grinned. “Sounds as if you’re making plans.”

Seeing her father today cemented what she’d already come to realize. Education was the key to independence. “I’m going to apply to college.”

“Do you know what you’ll study? Teaching? Nursing?”

“Maybe I should become a doctor,” she joked. “Dr. Bailey Ross. Neurosurgeon.” She laughed and so did he, but not in a condescending way. “I want to do something that makes people happy,” she went on. “That makes them feel good about themselves.”

“Whatever you choose I’m sure you’ll do well.”

“Because you know I’m an A student, right?”

“Because I think you have guts. Persistence will get you most places in life.”

Unless you were talking about her father. The more she’d tried, the more he’d turned his back. Cut her off. There came a time when a person needed to accept they should look forward rather than back.

But then she retraced her thoughts back to Mateo’s words—I think you have guts. She gave him a dubious look. “Was that another compliment?”

A line cut between his brows. “Tell you what. We’ll make a deal. I promise not to mention the money you owe Mama in a derogatory way if you promise something in return. It has to do with my vacation.”

She couldn’t think what. Except maybe, “You want me to house sit?”

“I want you to come with me to France.”

Bailey’s legs buckled. When she fell against him, bands of steel stopped her from slipping farther. But the way her front grazed against his, his help only made her sudden case of weakness worse.

Siphoning down a breath, she scooped back some hair fallen over her face. “Sorry. Did you just say you want me to go to France with you?”

“I got the impression you hadn’t seen Paris.”

“I was saving it for last. I never got there.”

His smile flashed white beneath the purple lights. “Now’s your chance.”

She took a step back but more deep breaths didn’t help. She cupped her forehead.

“Mateo, I’m confused.”

He brought her near again and flicked a glance over his shoulder at the couple dancing nearby. “Blame Alex. He suggested it.”

She tried to ignore the delicious press of his body, the masculine scent of his skin, the way his hard thigh nudged between hers as he rotated them around in a tight circle. “You know I don’t have money for a ticket to Europe.” Her jaw hardened. “And I won’t take any more charity.”

“Even if you’d be doing me a favor, keeping me company?” His dark gaze, so close, roamed her face. “One good turn deserves another.”

“That’s not fair.”

His mouth turned into a solemn line. “There wouldn’t be any conditions.”

Bailey blinked. Maybe because he was Mama’s grandson, she hadn’t considered he might be trying to buy more than her company.

With the lights slowly spinning and couples floating by, oxygen burned in her lungs while she tried to come up with an appropriate reply to a question that had knocked her for a loop. After an agonizingly long moment, she felt the groan rumble in his chest and his grip on her hand loosen.

“You’re right,” he said. “Crazy idea.”

“It’s not that I wouldn’t like to go.” She’d always wanted to see Paris. It was her biggest disappointment that she’d planned to save France for last rather than enjoying that country first. “But I’ve just got back,” she explained. “I’m starting that job Monday.” She finished with the obvious excuse. “We don’t know each other.”

He dismissed it with a self-deprecating smile. “Like I said. Forget I spoke.”

But as his palm skimmed up her back and he tucked her crown under his chin while they continued to dance, although she knew she really should, Bailey couldn’t forget.

At the end of the evening, she and Mateo dropped Natalie and Alex off then drove back to his place in a loaded silence.

Her breathing was heavier than it ought to be. Was his heartbeat hammering as fast as hers, or was she the only one who couldn’t get that enthralling dance and tempting offer out of her mind? Mateo had asked her to jet away to France with him. What had he been thinking? What was she thinking still considering it after having already told him no?

Bailey pressed on her stomach as her insides looped.

Admittedly, she was uniquely attracted to Mateo Celeca; he had a presence, a confidence that was difficult to ignore. But how did she feel about him beyond the physical? Yesterday, after he’d tried to degrade her over the money she’d loaned, she’d thought him little more than a self-serving snob. And yet, tonight, when she’d met his friends … had been his date …

Her stomach looped again.

After that episode with Emilio, the last thing she wanted was to get caught up in a man. Any man. Even when he gave generously to the orphanage where he’d spent his earliest years. Even when she felt as if she’d found a slice of heaven in his arms.

Since that dance, the air between them had crackled with a double dose of anticipation and electricity. If, when they got home, they started talking, got to touching, she didn’t know if she’d want to stop.

After they pulled into the garage, Mateo opened her door and helped her out. Their hands lingered, the contact simmered, before his fingers slipped from hers and he moved to unlock the internal door and flick on the lights. Gathering herself—straightening her dress and patting down her burning cheeks—Bailey followed into the kitchen.

“Care for a nightcap?” he asked, poised near the fridge.

Bailey clasped the pocketbook Natalie had loaned her under her chin and, resolute, made a believable excuse.

“I’m beat. Practically dead on my feet. Think I’ll go straight up and turn in.”

As she headed out, Bailey laughed at herself. He might not even want to kiss her. She could be blowing this awareness factor all out of proportion. But prevention was always better than cure. She’d accepted his invitation to stay a couple more nights. She didn’t want to do something they both might regret in the morning. And if they got involved that way, there would be regrets. Neither was looking for a relationship. She certainly didn’t want to get caught up in a man who, only yesterday, had as good as called her thief. A man who might set her pulse racing but who could never get serious about a woman in her situation.

And yet, he had asked her to France….

When Mateo reached the foot of the staircase, he stopped and turned to face her. Standing there, simply gazing at one another in the semi-darkness, she had this silly urge to play down the scene, stick out a hand and offer to shake. But, given past experience, probably best they didn’t touch.

“Thank you for the lovely evening,” she said.

“You’re welcome.”

Still, he didn’t move.

“Well …” Clutching her pocketbook tighter, she set a foot onto the lowest stair. “Good night.”

“Good night, Bailey.”

When she began to climb, he started up too. They ascended together until they hit a point where the stairs divided into separate branches. A fork in the road.

Her stomach twisting with nerves, she chanced a look across. He was looking at her too, a masculine silhouette a mere arm’s length away.

Swirling desire pooled low in her belly and she frowned. “You’re not moving.”

“Neither are you.”

Rolling back her shoulders, she issued a firm and final, “Good night.”

She hiked the rest of the stairs, right to the top. But before she could head off down to her suite, curiosity won out again. She edged a gaze over her right shoulder, to where she’d left Mateo standing seconds ago. What she saw sent her heart dropping in her chest.

He was gone. And wasn’t that what she’d wanted? What she knew was best for both their sakes?

Still, she stared at that vacant spot a moment more, feeling strangely empty and no longer so pretty in her pink designer dress. Shifting her weight, she finally rotated back … and ran right into Mateo’s solid chest.

Her heels balanced on the edge of the stairs, Bailey toppled back. But before she could fall, his arm hooked around her waist, pulling her effortlessly against him. Déjà vu. With the bodice of her dress pinned to his chest—with every one of her reflexes in a tailspin—she worked to catch her breath before croaking out, “I thought you were tired.”

“You said you were tired.” His dark eyes gleamed. “I’m wide awake.”

When she felt his hardness pressed against her belly, she gulped down another breath only to feel him grow harder still. Any doubts she may have had were blown away. The way her own blood was throbbing, taking this steadily growing attraction further seemed frighteningly inevitable.

“Maybe …” She wet her suddenly dry lips. “Maybe we should have that nightcap after all.”

His gaze dropped to her lips. “What kind of nightcap?”

“What would you like?”

His mouth came to within a whisper of hers.

“I’d like you.”