Читать книгу Baby for the Greek Billionaire - Susan Meier - Страница 12

DARIUS WAITED UNTIL they were seated at the table in the sunroom for lunch, while Gino was napping, before he broached the subject they’d come to Montauk to discuss—how they’d share custody of Gino. The wall of windows brought in the broad expanse of the ocean, sloshing sloppily, with no rhyme or reason or organization, against the shore. The scent of warm clam chowder wafted around them comfortingly, but Darius felt more like the ocean. Disjointed. Uneven. Unable to get his bearings.

Not only did he feel uncomfortable about pushing her to tell him about her family, but he also felt awful for her loss. Technically, he and Whitney would be connected for the next eighteen or so years of their lives, maybe longer. Gino would love her as a mother, and, he hoped, love him as a father. But their lives were so different he wasn’t really sure it was possible for them to find common ground.

She’d been married, been a mom and now lived in a loft in Soho and worked at a law firm. He’d spent his entire adult life running from marriage and being groomed to manage a huge conglomerate. He also had an apartment in the city, but Gino had a nursery at this estate, so Darius genuinely believed it was better for him to get rid of his apartment and live here. If Whitney really wanted to make the commitment to Gino that Darius believed she should make, then she should want to give up her loft and live here too.

The three of them living together was the only way to ensure that Gino saw both of his guardians and also lived something of a normal life. Still, he couldn’t hit her with that yet—especially not after the way he’d pushed her the night before. The way he had this figured, the best thing to do would be try to get her to agree to stay another week, or maybe two weeks, and then continue to tack on a week or two at a time until she realized, as he had, that Montauk was Gino’s home.

Because the following day was Monday, the end of the weekend, there was no time left for delay. He had to persuade her to stay an entire week or maybe two and he had to do it now.

He casually picked up his napkin. “I’m glad we decided to spend the weekend here, getting to know the baby.”

She met his gaze, her pretty blue eyes cautious.

“It was good for him to be in a settled environment—especially since this is his home, or had been when his parents came to New York.”

She didn’t even hesitate. “Absolutely.”

“So you wouldn’t mind saying a little longer?”

“How much longer?”

With her being so agreeable, it seemed a shame to ask for a week or two, when a month would be better for Gino. “How about a month?”

“A month!”

“Or six weeks.” Going with his usual tactic of surprising his opponent by asking for more rather than backpedaling, he forged on. “This is Gino’s home. He needs to be somewhere he feels safe. Since he spends half his day sleeping, I also think it’s important he be in his own crib. We’re adults. I think we can make an adjustment or two for him.”

“Okay.”

She surprised him so much he forgot they were negotiating. “Okay? ”

“Yes. We have to hire a nanny, and I need time to turn my spare bedroom into a nursery. So, yes. It makes sense to keep Gino here where he’s happy until I can get some of that done.”

Dumbstruck, he said nothing.

She ate a spoonful of soup. “Layla liked being in her own crib. Especially when she was sick.”

Layla. Her casual use of the name shook him. But the very fact that she’d said it so nonchalantly told him he had to be every bit as casual. Not make a big deal out of it. Not ask questions that didn’t fit into their conversation about Gino. Even though he was burning up with them.

How could a man not remember he had his child with him?

How did a woman deal with the grief, the guilt, of not noticing her husband was slipping over the edge?

Though he tried to hold them back, they tore at him until he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “How did you deal with it?”

“What?”

Recrimination roared through him, telling him he shouldn’t push her again, but he was unable to stop himself. “Your loss. How did you deal with such a monumental loss?”

She glanced up at him. “Therapy.”

He shook his head. “Dear God. It must have been awful. I am so sorry.”

She set down her spoon. “Actually, that’s one of the reasons I held back from telling you. I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. I want you to know. You have to know. You have to understand. But if I really want to get on with the rest of my life, you can’t feel sorry for me. You can’t treat me differently than you would have when you thought I was just a thorn-in-your-side lawyer.”

He laughed. “I never thought you were a thorn in my side.”

She smiled at him. “Of course you did. You probably always will. We’re not going to agree on how to raise Gino. We might as well admit up front that there will be disagreements and maybe set some ground rules for how to handle them.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Well, for instance, there could be some deal breaker things. Like I don’t think he should get a new car at sixteen.”

He laughed, not just at the absurdity of talking about something that wouldn’t happen for fifteen-and-a-half years, but also at the absurdity of depriving Gino of something he’d need.

“Really? No car at sixteen? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m rich. I can afford to get him any kind of car he wants. And he’ll want one. It’s the only thing he’ll talk about the entire time he’s fifteen.”

“Doesn’t matter. Kids that age aren’t good drivers. We should have as much control as possible about when and where he drives. The best way to do that is for him to have to ask permission to take a car.”

He gaped at her. “I have ten cars. He could easily take one without my permission.”

“Then you’re going to be busy keeping track of them. Because, to me, the car is a safety issue. And a deal breaker.”

He scowled, remembering his own driving at sixteen, and realized she was right. “Okay, but then one of my deal breakers is pink.”

“Pink?”

“No matter that you call it rose or mauve or some other flaky name, I don’t ever want him dressed in pink.”

She blinked, then frowned, then burst out laughing. “That’s your idea of a deal breaker?”

He turned his attention to his soup. “Give me time. I’m sure I’ll think of more.”

“So will I. But that’s kind of the point. We should balance. You know I’m right about the car, so you didn’t argue once you understood. I get it about pink.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s a pet peeve and I respect that. But most things won’t be so black and white. We’re going to have to learn to discuss issues as they come up and respect each other’s viewpoints.”

He put down his spoon and motioned with his hand between them. “So this kind of works?”

“The fact that we’re both objective parties?”

He nodded.

She smiled. “Give us a few years. We won’t be quite so objective. The first time he looks at us with real love, we’ll both melt.” She caught his gaze. “That’ll probably happen within the next day or so, so get ready. You and I are about to become mom and dad to that little boy.”

The truth of that swooped down on him, reminding him of the things he’d thought the day before. He sniffed a laugh. “I already figured that out.”

“Well, good. That makes you ahead of the game.”

“What about you?”

“I’ve been through this before. I know exactly what I’m in for in the next year and a half. I’ve even thought ahead to the next twenty-five years. Kindergarten, elementary school, middle school, high school…, university … marriage.”

Of course she’d thought ahead to the next twenty-some years. She was a planner. She’d probably thought of every special event in her daughter’s life, previewed it, then suffered through the memories of her plans when her daughter was gone. He’d love to ask, not because he wanted to know her dreams for her daughter, but just because he suspected she needed to talk about some of this. But they weren’t really friends. They were two people bound by someone else’s wishes. He didn’t feel he had the right to be so personal. Yet he also couldn’t think of a way to change the subject or even what to change it to. Nearly everything to do with Gino would remind her of her baby. After that there wasn’t much for them to discuss.

They were quiet for a few seconds then Whitney said, “This soup is wonderful.”

Ah, food. She’d said she loved food. That was as good a topic as any. “Cook worked for my dad for the past few decades. Every time she tried to quit he doubled her salary.”

She laughed. “I can understand why.”

Her laughter pleased him and reminded him of how relaxed she’d been the night before at dinner and while playing pool. She actually seemed happy now. Relaxed.

So once again, he talked about food. “You should see what he paid the pastry chef.”

Her eyes widened. “You have a pastry chef?”

He laughed. “My dad had a pastry chef.”

His laughter scared her. She knew he was being kind, but the sound of his laugh filled her chest with syrupy warmth. It wasn’t love. But closeness. Companionship. Ease. They’d known each other a few days. Yet they were not only comfortable enough to discuss Gino and his future rationally, but she’d also told him about Burn. About Layla. Now he was laughing with her and making her laugh.

And he’d kissed her.

She shoved that to the farthest corner of her brain. He’d promised he wouldn’t kiss her again, so that couldn’t come into play. She had to forget all about that, the way he’d promised he would.

“If we stay here a whole month, I’ll weigh two hundred pounds before I go home.”

“You could stand to gain a pound or two.”

His comment reminded her of the way he’d looked at her the night before when she had been practicing flirting. Yearning seized her, but so did the memory of how much trouble that longing had gotten her into.

“No woman believes she can stand to gain a pound or two.” She set her napkin on the table and rose. “I need to work this afternoon.”

He smiled slightly and rose politely. “Okay.”

Walking back to the office, she congratulated herself. She hadn’t exactly run away, but there was no point in hanging around when they had no future. She’d sealed her fate with him by explaining her past. He’d even told her he wouldn’t kiss her again. Yet she still had crazy feelings around him. Which, now that she thought about it, was preposterous. They didn’t even really know each other. So, whatever she felt, it was based purely on animal attraction.

On the up side, the fact that her feelings were wrong gave her a reason or a way to control them. From here on out, every time the attraction rose up in her, she’d simply remind herself she didn’t know him. So anything she felt was purely physical. Something to be ignored, not pursued.

On Monday morning, they drove into the city together, leaving Gino with Mrs. Tucker. Reviewing files from his briefcase, he didn’t talk. Not even to discuss the job she’d be doing for Andreas Holdings in Gino’s stead. She’d been quiet at breakfast, stilted, and he’d gotten the message. She might have agreed to live in the same house, but she wanted her space. Which was fine. Probably smart. He wanted her to be happy. If being left alone made her happy, then he’d leave her alone.

Eventually, she’d come around on her own terms, soften to the baby and to him. When she did, he’d see it. And he wouldn’t exactly pounce, but he would capitalize on the moment and suggest that they make their living arrangements with Gino, at his house in Montauk, permanent.

When they arrived at Andreas Holdings, he directed her to follow him to his office—formerly his dad’s office. Cherrywood paneling and a wall of bookcases gave the room an old-fashioned, stuffy feel, but there was nothing he could do about that. He hadn’t yet had a chance to redecorate.

He walked past the brown leather sofa and chair, directing her to follow him to his desk. Keeping with the all-business tone they’d established that morning, he handed her a stack of files. “These are contracts I’d like you to review and summarize for me.”

“Okay.”

He pressed the button on his phone and paged his assistant, who was at the door in seconds. “Minnie will show you to your office.”

She left the room on the heels of his assistant, and Darius stared at the door that closed behind them, hoping he was doing the right thing.

He met her at the limo for the ride home and immediately retrieved files to review, so they didn’t have to talk just because they were commuting together. He even let her go up to her apartment on her own to pack the things she would need for the upcoming weeks.

They talked about nannies at dinner. That morning, she had called the service she’d used when she’d hired a nanny for Layla and they had emailed résumés of potential candidates. She’d narrowed them down and had scheduled interviews with all four the next day. Because Whitney would conduct the initial interviews at the headquarters for Andreas Holdings, Darius had consented to sit in on at least five minutes of each interview and, acknowledging how busy he was, she’d accepted that. Before dessert she excused herself, saying she needed to go back to the depositions from the case she was working on with her father.

At nine when he went into the nursery to say goodnight to Gino, Whitney was already there. He was neither surprised nor concerned when she kept the slightest bit of distance between herself and the baby. He knew why she hesitated.

Still, he and Whitney were the baby’s guardians and because of work that day they hadn’t spent as much time as either of them wanted to spend with the baby, so he excused Mrs. Tucker.

“We’re okay here. So if you want to go to your room, that’s fine.”

When she was gone, Darius sat on the rocker, bottle in hand. “Hey, little guy.”

From her spot beside the crib, Whitney said, “He’s really getting to know who you are.”

Darius couldn’t help it. He smiled. “I know.”

“And you’re really beginning to like him.”

Darius looked up at her. “You were right. It hits you like a ton of bricks.”

Her blue eyes softened and became distant. “Yeah.”

He hadn’t meant to bring her child to her mind, but with the two of them caring for a baby, it was very hard not to. Of course, if he kept the conversation specific to Gino, maybe he could avoid that.

“Remember how we were talking about him not getting a car on his sixteenth birthday?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, that started me thinking about some weird things.”

“Like what?”

“Like how am I going to tell him about our dad. Or whether or not I should even tell him about our dad.”

Whitney bristled. “You can’t not tell him about his own father.”

“No, but I could be judicious. You know … tell him the good stuff and temper the bad.”

She took another step closer. “That won’t work if your brothers decide to tell him the truth.”

“I’ve been thinking about that too. My dad wanted us to behave like brothers. And, as you can see, Cade and Nick more or less deserted me.”

“So you’re going to keep Gino away from them so they don’t tell him about your dad?”

He shook his head. “No. I’ve actually been thinking of inviting them up to the house. Maybe once or twice a year, so they’ll have a chance to get to know him. There are four of us who are brothers, not just me and Gino. They might not want any part of me. But they’re Gino’s big brothers. I think they should be in his life.”

She nodded. In front of the rocker now, she stooped down. “In some ways, that’s going to make his life tough.”

Darius frowned. “Seeing his other brothers only a few times a year?”

She caught his gaze. “No. Having three adult brothers. I know you might not get this yet, but this kid is almost forty years younger than you are. And the distance between his age and that of his other two brothers is almost as great. There are three of you who will expect him to meet your standards.” She passed her hand lovingly over Gino’s soft black hair. “Three of you who will criticize his dates, expect a say in where he goes to university.” She shook her head then ran her index finger down Gino’s cheek. “I’m guessing he’s going to rebel.”

Cautious, hardly breathing, Darius watched her. She didn’t seem to realize how lovingly she was caressing the little boy. She appeared mesmerized, as if she’d waited all her life for a child and now that she was with one, she couldn’t stop herself.

“In one way or another all three of us rebelled.”

She looked up at him with a soft smile. “Really?”

“I attended Wharton instead of Harvard.”

She gasped as if mocking him. “Wow. I’m surprised your dad survived the blow.”

“Hey, to him it was a big deal. Harvard was his alma mater.”

“What about the other two?”

“Nick got married at seventeen.”

Her eyes widened. “Now, that’s more like it!”

“And Cade refused to go to school at all. He bought a ranch with his trust fund and worked it.”

“Okay. Cade wins. That’s rebellion.”

“Yeah, but when his oil interests got into trouble, he needed our dad. That still sticks in his craw.”

She laughed and rose from in front of the rocker. “‘Sticks in his craw?’”

“He’s a Texan. It’s like they have their own language down there.”

With the baby asleep, Darius rose from the rocker and laid the little boy in his crib. After covering him with a green blanket, he leaned down and kissed his cheek.

From the corner of his eye, he watched Whitney lick her lips. He pulled away from the crib. “Want to kiss him goodnight?”

She pressed her lips together and shook her head slightly. “I need to get ready for bed.”

He let her walk out of the nursery, but he had seen the longing in her eyes.

Could it be that he’d made a mistake in running interference for her? Could she actually need to be around Gino, not away from him? Would that help her take the next steps in her recovery?

Tuesday morning, he got to the nursery before Whitney, and when she arrived he dismissed Mrs. Tucker again.

As he fed the baby his bottle, Whitney started off standing by the crib, but ultimately gravitated to the rocker. Again, she stooped in front of it, watching Gino as he ate.

He thought about that all morning at work. He didn’t know if the change was because she’d told him about her family, or if she was simply growing more accustomed to Gino, but that child drew her. And for every bit she was drawn to the baby, he felt drawn to help her adjust.

If nothing else, they shared custody of Gino. She was his partner. And he needed to help her.

When they stepped into the house that evening, Mrs. Tucker met them to take their coats. “Chinese for supper tonight,” she said then walked away with their garments.

“I see your love of food precedes you. I’ve never had a housekeeper announce the menu at the door, unless she knew somebody was truly interested.”

She laughed. “I am!”

Darius pointed up the stairs. “Baby first. Food second.”

She didn’t hesitate. Not only did they always put Gino first, but she was actually eager to see the little guy. She wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, but with Darius in the room, it was no longer excruciating to be with the baby. There were painful minutes. She still made comparisons in her head. But Darius was like a layer of protection.

They walked upstairs together and the second they stepped into the room, Gino bounced up in the crib and held his hands out to Darius.

“Look how cute!” Darius said, laughter bubbling through his voice. “He wants me.” He strode over and Gino all but leapt into his arms. The baby squealed, a sound that was half-joy and half-annoyance as if he couldn’t wait the two seconds it took for Darius to snag him out of the crib.

Whitney’s chest squeezed. Not with pain or fear or even a remembrance of her own child, but with happiness. Staying at this house hadn’t been her first choice for how they’d share custody, but it was now clear that being here had been the right thing for Gino.

She grabbed a tissue and gently ran it beneath Gino’s runny nose. He squawked and reached for her.

Darius laughed. “Take him.”

She shied away. She might have been able to touch him, to experience some of the joy a baby brings into any world it enters, but she wouldn’t go overboard. She liked being able to be in the same room without being overwhelmed with memories. She had weeks here at Darius’s house to get accustomed to Gino. She didn’t have to push. She could take this slowly.

“That’s okay. You keep him.”

Gino squealed and stretched out of Darius’s arms toward her.

Darius chuckled. “I’m sorry, but he wants you. He likes you.”

“I know. But he likes you, too.” She took a few steps back.

Gino screeched again.

“Right at this minute, I think he likes you more.”

Motherly longing laced its way through her. The pure feminine desire to lave love on a needy baby rose up in her. Especially a baby who so obviously wanted her. Her heart swelled with affection so strong it tightened her chest. She wanted to love Gino. She might even need to love him. There was a hole in her heart so big that some days she wondered how it managed to pump enough blood to keep her alive.

And standing in the nursery where this little boy belonged, beside the man who shared custody with her, suddenly it all seemed okay. She took Gino from Darius’s arms.

Darius smiled. “Look how much he likes you.”

She took a soft breath, preparing for panic, as sweet baby scents and the feeling of him snuggling into her assailed her. “I’m glad we came here, glad we decided to share these few weeks so we could all get adjusted.”

He shrugged. “It works.”

She nodded and turned away to rock Gino a bit as he nuzzled against her neck. The panic she expected didn’t come and she realized the memories of Layla floating out of her subconscious were wispy, insubstantial. Not bold and blaring, but still there, soft and sweet. She wouldn’t forget her baby as she got on with the rest of her life.

“Yes. Being together does seem to be working.”

“What do you say we take the baby down to supper with us?”

She nodded.

He smiled. “Do you want to change first?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. You hold him while I change and then I’ll come back and take him while you change.”

Whitney nodded, feeling herself able to take another careful step. Holding Gino, alone.

Darius left the room and she smiled down at the little boy. “So how was your day?”

He tilted his head as if questioning her.

She laughed. “I get it. Not much happens in the life of a six-month-old.”

He screeched as if protesting that fact.

“Then again, Gino, everything that happens is sort of new to you. I mean, you can’t even talk yet. Just wait till that happens.” She waltzed him around the room, making him giggle. “Then there’s walking. You’re gonna love that.”

She spun around the room again, but stopped when she saw Darius standing in the open doorway between his room and the nursery.

“That was fast.”

He ambled into the room. “I’m hungry.”

“Me, too.”

She handed the baby to him, but couldn’t help noticing his still expression. “What?”

“I think we should live together.”

“We are living together.”

“I mean permanently.” He ran his hand along the top of Gino’s head, across the shiny black hair so much like his own. “The house is huge. We both love the baby. He loves both of us. Wouldn’t it be a shame to divide up our time when we could both see him every day?”

She gaped at him. “You’re serious.”

He smiled charmingly. “It’s the right thing to do for Gino.”

All the little warning bells she’d heard the Friday before when they’d arrived at the house, all the little suspicions that had nudged at her, suddenly found their meaning. He’d been leading her toward this from the beginning. Being nice, getting her to agree to one simple thing after another until they were at the point where his real goal became clear. He wanted them to live together.

Well, he could ask, but that didn’t mean she had to agree.

“It doesn’t work for me.”

“Why not? There’s plenty of space. We have a cook. We’re hiring a nanny.” He pointed out the window at the serene ocean below. “You’re by the sea. On a beautiful, peaceful estate. You can keep your condo if you want. Spend time in the city anytime you want. And Gino can be here, comfortable and happy with his nanny.”

“You mean with you.”

“I can’t always be here either, remember? I have a job that forces me to travel. All the more reason for Gino to have a home base.”

“You mean all the more reason for you to keep control. You’re afraid that with your schedule, I’ll have him more than you’ll have him.”

He shook his head and laughed lightly, as if they were having a casual conversation, not a monumental one. “That’s absurd.”

“Then why do you want to live here?”

“Because it makes sense.”

“Not to me.”

“I can’t see why not. Whitney, I don’t want this to come out wrong, but you need this as much as Gino does. You’re still shaky around him.”

Fury rose up in her. She couldn’t believe he’d use her fears around Gino against her. Telling him about her baby had been the hardest thing she’d ever done, but she’d trusted him! And he was using it against her.

Mrs. Tucker stepped into the nursery. “The cook wants to know when it will be convenient to serve dinner.”

Whitney headed for the door. “I’m not hungry. I’m going to work. Have Geoffrey bring Gino’s swing to my office and I’ll watch him while Mr. Andreas dines.”

Alone.

Alone from here on out because she wasn’t trusting him again!