by Day Leclaire
“Not really.”
Refusing to let go of her hand, he crossed to the couch, pulling her down next to him. “Then we’ll argue about the real reason for the disguise you’ve been hiding behind for almost a year.”
“Why don’t we talk about the weather,” she suggested dryly, moving to the far side of the couch. “That’s always a nice, safe topic.”
“The weather? Fine.” He closed the distance between them, crowding her against the cushions. “I sense a sudden heat wave. How about you?”
She pressed her hands to his chest, aware that she’d just as soon wrap her arms around him as push him away. “Luc, cut it out. This isn’t a scene out of some 1940s romantic comedy, you know.”
“You’re right.” He reached past her and turned off the lamp on the table behind them. Instantly, the room plunged into darkness. “Now it’s a scene out of a 1940s romantic comedy,” he murmured, his mouth nuzzling her ear. Moonlight filtered in through the picture windows and bathed them in a silvery glow. “The seduction scene to be exact.”
Her breath stopped in her throat. He was so close, practically lying on top of her. “And I thought talking about the weather would be safe. I’m beginning to think there aren’t any safe topics with you.”
“Then let’s not talk.”
“Don’t, Luc. I don’t want this.”
“I think you do. Shall I tell you what else I think?” He didn’t wait for her answer. His hand tangled in her hair, the streaked curls spilling from between his fingers. “I think you dyed your hair and wore suits three sizes too large for a reason.”
“What reason?” she asked, alarm streaking through her.
“For the same reason behind this.” He lifted her left hand and touched her engagement ring. “For protection.”
She stared at him in shock. Did he know? Had she given herself away? She fought his hold. “You’re crazy.”
“Am I?” His arms moved around her, pulling her tight. “You could be right about that. Let’s be crazy together.”
He didn’t say any more. He simply lowered his head and kissed her. In that instant, she realized her reaction to their first kiss hadn’t been a fluke. It was as if someone had thrown on a main power switch. Her senses came online, leaping to life with a jarring force that swept away all resistance, all thought, leaving only a desperate need behind, raw and undeniable.
His kiss stole her breath, stole her will, and she almost groaned aloud. He tasted wonderful, as heady as fine champagne. One sip and her palate was forever jaded, never again to be satisfied with anything but the best. And he was the best.
He broke off the kiss and shifted closer, his weight pressing her deep into the cushions, his body hard and taut against hers. She gazed up at him, wanting him to kiss her again but unable to ask, afraid of the words—afraid of the desire such words would express. His thick hair tumbled across his brow and he stared at her, his eyes no longer golden but two glittering shards of jet.
“You’re safe with me,” he murmured, and she knew he’d sensed her fears as well as her desire. “I won’t hurt you, Grace, I swear it.”
He kissed her again and she tilted her head, exposing the long line of her neck. His mouth drifted downward. Tenderly, he cupped her breast, caressing, stoking the fires that raged within her, driving her toward a sweet ecstasy she’d never before experienced.
“Come to my bed, Grace,” he urged. “Let me show you how good it can be between us.”
She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to. But it would be wrong, for so many reasons. His mouth found hers again, tantalizing her with teasing little kisses, until all she could think or feel was a desperate craving for more. Lord, he was good at this. Unfortunately, that indicated he’d had plenty of practice. Which meant . . .
“Luc,” she forced herself to say. “This isn’t smart. We can’t do this.”
He laughed with genuine humor, the sound warm and beguiling. “Of course we can. I’ve wanted to do this for ages. Haven’t you?”
She shied from his question, asking one of her own instead. “If you wanted to do this for so long, then why haven’t you?”
He hesitated, then shrugged. “There were roadblocks.”
As far as she knew, most of the roadblocks remained. He might suspect her engagement to William was an invention. But he had no real proof. And though he wasn’t aware her agreement with Dom prevented a personal relationship with him, their business association should be more than enough to give him pause before starting a fling.
“And now there aren’t any roadblocks?” she questioned.
He eyed her closely. “You tell me.”
She didn’t dare mention William or Dom. “What about my job?” she asked instead, seizing on the one obstacle they could openly discuss.
“What about it? It’s not going anywhere.”
“What about after we . . . ? What happens to my job, then?”
He pulled back and frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”
She shook her head. “You think I haven’t heard about my predecessors? There must be a regular army of women who’ve left your employment because they fell in love with you.”
“For your information, I have never had an affair with anyone who worked for me.”
“Until now?”
The question seemed to hang between them. For a minute she didn’t think he’d respond. Then he nodded. “Until now,” he conceded roughly.
He cupped her face and kissed her with a desperate urgency, as though he wanted to drive all thought, all resistance, from her mind. She almost allowed herself to give in to desire, to let him sweep aside all concerns but a selfish need to be loved.
In that instant, she saw her choices more clearly than she ever had before. She could break all the rules she held dear, and have a few brief, stolen moments with Luc. She didn’t doubt they’d be wonderful memories, memories she’d retain for the rest of her life. But then his interest would move on to the next woman and he’d break her heart. Or she could stop the relationship now, before it went any further.
In a few weeks, Dom would return and she’d leave Luc’s employment. Maybe she’d experience a few regrets. Maybe more than a few. But she’d have Baby Dream Toys, the dream she and her mother had shared. More important, there was still a slim chance she could emerge from this with her heart intact. Which left her only one option.
Now all she had to do was find a way to convince Luc.
Not giving him time to realize what she intended, she ripped free of his embrace and stood. “Why are you doing this?” she demanded, driven by sheer self-preservation to take the offensive. “I’m your employee, trying to help you out of an awkward situation. And you’re attacking me.”
He lifted an eyebrow, his expression amused. “What a vivid imagination you have. Do you really consider what I did attacking you?”
“Yes! No!” She’d never succeed at putting him off if she couldn’t do better than that. There was only one out available, and she’d darned well better take it. She lifted her chin and folded her arms across her chest. Using her most businesslike voice, she said, “If you want my continued help, you’ll keep our relationship professional. I don’t want you to make suggestive remarks. Nor do I want you to touch me. If you do, I’ll leave. Is that clear?”
She held her breath, praying this time he’d believe her, that she wanted neither his touch nor his seductive comments. Of course, it was a lie. She wanted much more than a professional relationship with Luc, despite the path she’d just chosen. In fact, far from finding his remarks suggestive, she found than romantic and all too appealing. She shied away from thinking about his touch, and the fact she’d begun to crave each casual caress with a passion that frightened her. She had to remember Baby Dream Toys and her mother. She had to.
He sat up, his expression unreadable. “It’s clear.” He studied her for several minutes, as though trying to understand what had gone wrong. And then his voice softened. “There’s no need to be afr
aid, you know. We can take this slow. If I’m rushing you, then you set the pace.”
Temptation beckoned. Four weeks, she almost said. Just wait four more weeks. Then she could come clean about everything. William. Baby Dream Toys. Her agreement with Dom. And once she told Luc the truth? How would he respond to her endless litany of deceptions? She knew the answer to that. It would end their relationship. There wasn’t a question in her mind. What she’d done was unforgiveable to someone like Luc. Which meant, it came down to a simple choice. Luc or her mother. And that left no choice at all. Honoring her mother and all of her mother’s many sacrifices through the years was paramount.
Grace shook her head. “I’m not interested in setting any pace.”
“Except a full retreat?” Irony colored his words.
“Shall I go pack?”
He held up his hands. “You win. If you don’t want to see where this might lead, I won’t push it.”
“Thank you.” There wasn’t anything left to be said. Without another word, she headed from the room.
“Grace?”
She hesitated, but didn’t turn around, waiting for him to say what he had to so she could finally escape. “What is it, Luc?”
“I don’t want to lose you. So I won’t touch you again, if that’s your preference.”
“Thank you,” she said again.
“Don’t thank me. It’s not what I’d do if the choice were mine. If you were honest with yourself, you’d admit it isn’t really what you want, either.” His voice held a grating quality she’d never heard before. “And one more thing.”
“Yes?” she whispered.
“Take my bed.”
She turned around at that. “No! That’s not necessary.”
Slowly he rose from the couch and she realized to her dismay that a very large, frustrated man stood before her. “Take my bed,” he repeated.
“Fine.” She swallowed nervously, backing from the room. “I’ll take your bed.”
He stalked after her. “And for your information, bellissima mia, just so there isn’t any doubt in your mind, all through that passionate little speech your eyes were as cloudy as I’ve ever seen them. Run away for now, but don’t leave thinking I believed a word you said. You do want me. And soon, very soon, you’ll admit it to yourself.” He paused a beat, before adding, “And to me.”
She didn’t dare say another word. Instead, she turned and ran.
Chapter 7
The Great Lie
Day 339: And trouble is at the door . . .
Locking herself in Luc’s room did nothing to make Grace feel safe. She stood by his bed and wondered how in the world she could be expected to sleep here. She didn’t even have her pajamas because she’d left her suitcase in Toni’s room. Darn him! She didn’t even have a toothbrush. Nor did she have any intention of going after the forgotten items.
As though in answer to her silent raging, a brief knock sounded at the door. It could only be Luc. She stood motionless, debating whether or not to open it. The knob turned and she heard his muffled laugh the instant he realized she’d locked him out.
“If you want your nightgown, it’s here,” he informed her through the wooden panel. “Feel free to use my toothbrush. Good night, Grace. Pleasant dreams.”
She waited several minutes before opening the door. Sure enough, her gown and robe lay neatly folded on the rug. Luc was nowhere in sight. She crossed to his dresser and rummaged through drawers. She didn’t find any pajamas. Maybe he didn’t wear them. Images of Luc, naked in the bed he’d insisted she use, danced through her head and stirred sensations that both shocked and thrilled. She ruthlessly shoved them away. This was neither the time nor place, even though part of her insisted it was the perfect time and place. Discovering a pair of sweatpants, she decided they’d do just fine for nightwear. She returned to the hallway and swapped nightclothes. Then she slammed the door shut, locking it once again. As far as a toothbrush was concerned, use his? Not bloody likely. It was bad enough that she had to use his bed. A bed where he most likely slept naked.
Stripping off her dress, she tossed it across a chair and glared at the pool of soft green silk. In her mind’s eye she saw Luc’s hand against the pale dress, cupping her breast, his dark hair contrasting with her white skin. She struggled to breathe normally. Maybe she wouldn’t wear the dress for Christmas, after all. Maybe she wouldn’t wear it ever again.
A few minutes later she was ready for bed, her teeth brushed with her finger and a bit of toothpaste. She wondered if she’d get any sleep. Doubtful, considering how everything in the room reminded her of Luc and the passion they’d shared. Okay, almost shared. It had to be Luc’s not-so-subtle way of tormenting her.
The worst part came when she slipped between his sheets and rested her head on his pillow. His spicy scent clung to the pillowcase, filling her lungs with every breath, and arousing emotions she’d sooner forget. She clenched her fists. He’d done this on purpose. He wanted to drive her insane. Well, it wouldn’t work.
Three hours later, and on the verge of true madness, she finally drifted off to sleep. An urgent banging put an end to that. Totally disoriented, it took her several seconds to realize the pounding didn’t come from outside her bedroom, but from outside the apartment. Grabbing her robe, she thrust her arms into it and dashed for the door. For endless moments she fumbled with the bedroom door lock. By the time she reached the hallway, Luc raced just ahead of her, wearing only the sweatpants she’d left out for him. He opened the front door, running a hand through his hair.
“What—” he began.
To Grace’s horror, she saw a pair of policemen standing there, Mrs. Bumgartle right behind them, a self-righteous expression on her face.
“Arrest him,” Mrs. Bumgartle demanded, pointing an accusing finger at Luc. “Arrest them both! Those . . . those babynappers!”
For a long moment, no one moved. Then Luc asked, “What’s the problem, Officer?”
“Mr. Salvatore? I’m Officer Hatcher. We met two days ago at your office.”
“I remember,” Luc replied evenly. “Is there a problem?”
“Babynapper!” Mrs. Bumgartle proclaimed from behind the policeman’s broad shoulders. “He said the baby was his niece, that she was his brother’s child. But all his brothers visited tonight and she wasn’t theirs. And he,” she pointed a finger at Luc with dramatic emphasis, “warned them they couldn’t afford to have the police called in again.”
Officer Hatcher glanced from Luc to a clearly nervous Grace. “Perhaps I better come in and straighten this out,” he addressed his partner. “Carl, escort Mrs. Bumgartle to her apartment and take a statement.”
After a momentary hesitation, Luc stepped back to allow the policeman access. Though he didn’t say anything, Grace saw the muscle leaping in his jaw and the dark, furious glitter of his eyes. Why, oh why, she wondered with a sinking heart, did it have to be Hatcher who responded to the call?
“There’s nothing to straighten out,” Luc insisted, leading the way to the living room. “I explained before that we were babysitting my niece and that’s precisely what we’re doing.”
Hatcher pulled a notepad out of his pocket and flipped through the pages. “According to my notes, you said you were babysitting for a few hours. It’s now been almost two days. Would you care to explain the discrepancy?”
Luc glanced briefly at Grace, then said, “I believe I mentioned that my sister-in-law’s mother is ill. My brother and his wife were going to fly to Italy with the baby, but decided at the last minute to leave Toni with us.” He caught Grace’s hand in his and pulled her close. “Is that a problem?”
Officer Hatcher began adding to his notes. “You have something from the parents stating this?”
“No,” Luc admitted. “I didn’t realize that would be necessary.”
The policeman’s gaze sharpened. “A medical release form? A birth certificate? Anything?”
Luc shook his head. “They should be back soon.”
Hatcher glanced at his notes again and froze. “How old is your niece, Mr. Salvatore? What’s her birth date?”
Grace started, staring up at Luc in a panic. His arm tightened around her, crushing her to his side. “She’s three months,” Luc said stiffly, then confessed, “I’m not sure of the exact date of her birth.”
“And when did her sex change from male to female?” Hatcher asked with unmistakable sarcasm. He had them and knew it.
Luc swore beneath his breath.
“You didn’t know she was a girl, did you?” The patrolman’s mouth twisted in a parody of a smile. “Is she even your niece?”
“I didn’t know she was a girl until we changed her diaper,” Luc was forced to concede. “Carina called her Toni, and since Salvatores have a history of producing boys, I assumed . . .” He shrugged, then stated forcefully, “But she is my niece.”
Officer Hatcher checked his notes again. “The baby’s name is Antonia Donati Salvatore? Or was that a lie, too?”
Luc closed his eyes, releasing a long, drawn-out sigh. “Carina and my brother aren’t married. Yet. I expect that to change very soon.”
“Let me get this straight.” The officer’s words fell, cold and hard as chipped ice. “You said the parents left the baby in your care and would be back in a few hours. That was a lie. You said the child was your nephew. That was a lie. And you said the baby’s parents were married. Another lie. You don’t have any legal authority to care for this baby whatsoever, do you?”
Luc’s fists clenched at his sides. “Look. Carina, the baby’s mother, left Toni with my brother because of a family emergency. That much is true. And she needed someone to care for Toni during her absence. That is also the truth. Since my brother Brand is the baby’s father, he was the natural choice. The only problem was, Brand didn’t know about Toni until Carina arrived at my office.”
Understanding dawned. “Which explains the argument in the lobby.”
“Yes. My brother went after Carina to try and stop her. Thanks to your intervention, he wasn’t in time.”