by Leslie North
Heat blasted over them as they re-entered the hotel. Mitch guided her toward a small alcove overlooking a central courtyard, which was dappled with evergreen bushes. Outside, the sky threatened storms with a strange, cobalt color. Jules swallowed hard, looking down at the sleeping baby in her arms.
“What should we do?” she asked, her voice sticking to her throat.
Mitch wet his bottom lip, his icy blue gaze sweeping up to meet hers. She could already see the answer written in his eyes.
“We’ll figure this out,” he said in a low voice, even though his eyes said, I have no clue. “Just give me a second.”
3
The hustle and bustle of the lobby had ratcheted up to a commotion. And it wasn’t because of the baby—nobody else knew or had noticed that they’d discovered a real live infant abandoned in the manger out front. Mitch’s head spun as he guided her to sit down with the baby in her arms, his brain in overdrive.
There was a solution here, he just needed to figure out what it was. He searched for a staff member to recruit. Every single person was in a different state of losing their cool on a phone call, with a guest, or both at the same time.
“I’ll be right back,” Mitch said to Jules before heading toward the front desk. The air in the lobby felt pulled tight, as if it might snap at any second. He strode toward the desk but stopped as some guests nearby sighed loudly.
“I don’t think we’re going to be able to stay here, but we can’t leave either,” one of them was saying. Mitch paused, feeling the customer service side of him leap into high gear.
“Hi, I’m Mitch Denton, owner of this hotel.” He offered his hand to the frazzled looking man and his wife. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
“I don’t know.” The man raked a hand through the sparse field of hairs left on his head. “We were just about to leave for the airport, but we got word that our flight was cancelled because of the snowstorm coming. We can’t keep our room for another night because it’s been booked.”
Mitch led them toward the front desk, intent on resolving this. He made sure that the first receptionist who hung up was tasked with their rebooking issue.
Which meant that it took some time before a receptionist was able to tend to him. Mitch made sure all his guests were helped before he took his turn. The customer always came first—that was the family motto. When he glanced back at Jules, her brows were drawn together as she looked down at the baby in her arms.
They needed to figure out whose baby this was, stat.
“Hey. I need to know if any of you saw any suspicious activity near the manger scene today,” Mitch said once a lull had hit the reception area.
The four ladies shook their heads.
“It’s been too busy to see much of anything, with this storm coming in,” Sara, the lead receptionist, commented.
“Rebookings galore,” another sighed.
Mitch’s stomach jolted as he glanced back at Jules and the baby. “Can someone call security for me? We have an issue that needs addressed urgently.” He hesitated over whether to raise the alarm that would surely accompany abandoned baby. Best to wait until all their bases were covered. He was confident that he and Jules could handle this in the meantime. “Send them my way ASAP. And I mean now.”
Sara nodded and picked up the phone just as another group of guests approached the front desk. Mitch hurried back to Jules and the baby. The child had just started fussing.
“Can you hold her for a second?” Jules nibbled on her lip and held the baby out. Mitch bent awkwardly to receive the precarious package, her little head feeling surprisingly limp against his arm. “Support her head. Yeah, like that. There you go. I’m going to run to the restroom and be right back.” Jules squeezed his arm before taking off, and once she had disappeared around the corner of the lobby, Mitch looked around, the weight of this situation finally hitting him.
Here he was—an expert bachelor, heir to this hotel empire—holding this baby whose only caretaker in life right now was…him.
And Jules. He hurried to remind himself that it wasn’t just him calling the shots. Jules was in this with him. Sure, they’d only been touring the hotel property in advance of the party, which granted them no parental rights over this child. But for some reason, it felt like this was their situation to handle. Stumbling upon an abandoned baby forged a sort of unifying bond. They might be strangers, but they were strangers with a baby, suddenly.
The baby started fussing harder and wriggling inside the pink blanket she was swaddled in. She didn’t look like a newborn to him—not that he had a ton of experience identifying a child’s age, or anything to do with babies. He rocked her, shushing gently. Jules had said “her,” but he could tell she hadn’t unwrapped the blanket in the moments he’d been at the reception desk. Still, the pronoun felt right—he would have bet his hotel their foundling was a girl. Her little cheeks went pink as a scream ripped out of her. Mitch gasped, then started pacing the far wall of windows overlooking the street. Panic streaked through him—what the hell was he supposed to do with a crying baby?
He could negotiate the living hell out of a business deal and spend twelve hours in a cramped space flying halfway around the world. He could even gamble millions of dollars in a risky new venture without batting an eye.
But this baby? This wriggling little bundle was the type of challenge he had no experience with. No preparation at all.
Jules raced up to him a moment later, stroking the girl’s cheek. “What happened?”
“Nothing. She just started crying.” The baby hiccuped and then continued crying. “Doesn’t rocking help? I thought I’d rock her.”
“Maybe lift her up and pat her back,” Jules suggested. “She might have gas or something.”
Mitch lifted her carefully, trying to support her head. She dipped a little to the left, and he went rigid, propping her against his shoulder.
“Just tap her back,” Jules guided him.
Mitch patted the baby’s back like she said, and her cries turned into gurgling, which then turned into a very wet eruption.
All over his shoulder.
Jules laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. “Aww, her tummy was upset.”
Mitch stopped breathing for a moment as he craned to look at the damage. “Did she—” He paused, horrified by the milky white splash of vomit on his shoulder. A little bit even dripped down the front of his suit coat. “Did she puke on me?”
Jules rolled her lips inward, but she shook with silent laughter. “Poor thing. We should go get her cleaned up.”
“And me,” he reminded her. Jules reached out for the baby, and Mitch carefully handed her over. “Let’s go to my office. Come on.”
He glanced around the lobby as he led her down the side hall. Their quick steps tapped on the shiny tile floor.
“Don’t worry,” Jules said. “I don’t think anyone saw her spit up all over your nice suit.”
He glanced back at her as he pushed through the office door. She looked like she was fighting a grin.
“I don’t care if anyone saw…” Having a baby spit up on his thousand-dollar suit was just not the way he’d seen this day going. He just didn’t know how to say it without it sounding exactly the way it sounded. That he was more concerned with the state of his suit than the state of the child. He softened slightly, sighing. “Fine. I’ve never been puked on before.”
Jules snickered, swaying slightly as she held the baby. Her brown hair angled over her forehead as she smiled down at the bundle in her arms. “There’s a first time for everything. I think you’re initiated now.”
He paused in the middle of slipping off his coat, sideswiped by the sight of her there. So beautiful, but also now so tender as she beheld the little girl. He almost forgot what he was doing until Jules looked up at him.
“You better get to it before it sets,” she said.
“Right.” Mitch cleared his throat and slipped his suit coat off. He laid it down over a
clear section of the desk and hurried into the small attached bathroom to snag some paper towels. When he came back out, Jules grimaced.
“I think she got your shirt, too.”
He looked down, and sure enough—a small damp area right besides the breast pocket stared back at him. He tutted.
“I guess I should just be happy she feels better,” he said with a sigh. “At the expense of my clothes.”
“Exactly.” Jules still swayed where she stood. It seemed the baby had fallen asleep again. “She wasn’t feeling good, and now she feels great.”
Mitch worked on removing the bulk of the spit-up while Jules walked around the office, gently patting the baby’s butt. Whenever she crossed through his line of view, it was hard not to stare. There was something so elegant, so soft about her right now. She’d stepped into his office a hardened professional, but now she was like any working mom. The transformation nearly stole his breath, but he couldn’t even say why.
Jules is just the event planner, and you’re just trying to find out where to send this baby. He frowned as he scrubbed at the stain.
Why was that so hard to remember?
4
She’d had a sleeping baby in her arms for less than a half hour and already she felt like this kid was hers.
You can’t just adopt the first orphan you find, Jules. The words were so ridiculous she hesitated to even think them. It wasn’t like she even planned on kids—not yet, anyway, and certainly not as a single mom. She’d thought that someday she might settle down, find a great guy, start a family the old-fashioned way.
But for some reason, this baby in a manger seemed like a test to that idea.
Or was she just falling victim to the Christmas season and the incredibly sexy man in the room?
Jules struggled to keep her eyes off him as he unbuttoned his shirt. It was almost like he’d forgotten she and the baby were in the room, since they’d been standing by the windows for a while as the baby slept. When the shirt crested his shoulders and she caught a glimpse of pale skin and sturdy, rippling shoulder, she gasped.
Like an idiot.
Mitch whipped around, confusion on his face. “Sorry. Should have warned you.” His shirt hung open, revealing washboard abs and the absolute perfect amount of black chest hair. He offered a lopsided grin. “I’ll go into the bathroom.”
“No, no,” she blurted, unable to stop her gaze from careening over the milky expanse of his chest. Damn, she’d give a lot to see the rest of him underneath that shirt. Like the whole rest of his body. “I just…I noticed it started snowing.” Her gaze jerked to the window, at the cobalt sky threatening black. “That’s all. This is your office. You change if you need to.”
Her heart stayed in her throat as he headed her way, brows drawn together as he assessed the outside world through the window. “Oh, wow,” he murmured. The cedar scent of his aftershave reached her, the masculine scent nearly sending her to her knees. It had been long—far too long—since she’d been with a man. And she had never had the pleasure of being with someone who looked like Mitch.
She’d been so focused on her career and so jaded by the dating world in New York City that the majority of her male interactions were with clients and the occasional hanger-on at the bar. If she even deigned to go out with her girlfriends.
Truth was, she didn’t expect much in the way of love. Her mother had drilled that into her from a young age. Why bother looking for something that didn’t exist?
“This really is going to be a bad storm,” Mitch said, raking a hand through his hair. The shirt shifted, and she caught a glimpse of his dime-sized nipple. She was blatantly staring now. “I’m going to call Rose so we can have security meet us in here and then figure out where—”
A knock interrupted him. They both swung around to look at the door just as it cracked open.
“Mitch.” His secretary poked her head in, then stopped short with a little “Oh!”
“It’s fine, come in.” Mitch waved her in, heading toward a wardrobe on the other side of the office. “I was just about to call you. Additionally, I need to send some things for dry cleaning.”
Rose rolled her lips inward. What a sight she’d stumbled upon. Jules almost laughed. Rose had let her into the office for a business meeting, and now she’s discovered them plus a baby with Mitch half undressed. A little snicker escaped her, and Rose narrowed her eyes at her.
“Okay,” she began, walking carefully into the office. “I have some updates that are slightly urgent.”
“Go ahead.” Mitch was partially obscured by the open wardrobe doors as he shrugged off his shirt. A hanger clanged as he reached for a different button-down. When he shut the doors, he was fully clothed again, buttoning the last button on his shirt. Jules tried not to feel disappointed.
“Your three o’clock appointment just called in to cancel,” Rose said, referring to a sticky note she’d brought in. “He said the weather report looks too scary and he plans to reschedule for next week. If we’re not still buried in snow by then.”
Mitch frowned as he adjusted the cuffs of his shirt. “Is the storm going to be that bad?”
“The weather guy said they’re expecting up to five feet.” Rose sighed, looking more annoyed than scared, in typical New Yorker fashion. “But I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Jules turned back toward the windows. The flurries from a few moments ago had turned into definite snow. There was already accumulation on the street ten stories below. Her heart raced as she looked back at Mitch. This seemed like a serious storm coming.
Mitch started rubbing at his forehead and moved to his desk. “The lobby was already a mess when we were out there just now. Flights getting cancelled, people needing to rebook.”
Mitch fished a remote control out of a desk drawer and pointed it at the far wall. A picture frame slowly slid down to reveal a television. She blinked. So this was what rich guys spent their money on.
“Let’s find a weather report, shall we?” Mitch flipped through a few channels, then set the control down and pressed his palms to the desktop.
Jules should have watched the news program, but all she could watch was Mitch. His power pose yanked at her typical sense of calm. She hadn’t met a man in recent times who really set her ablaze, but Mitch was the exception. Even the furrow of his brow was somehow sexy.
“…and it is recommended to stay off the roads once the full brunt of the storm hits,” the news reporter was saying.
Rose sighed, shaking her head as she watched the television. “You know, they say this every time.”
“I don’t know. Did you see the color of that sky?” Mitch hefted with a humorless laugh. “It’s been a minute since we got slammed with a record-breaking storm. I think we need to batten down the hatches like they’re saying. And prepare for a hell of a lot of rebookings.”
Jules swallowed hard. The snowfall had turned thick. Shit. She’d taken a rideshare to the hotel today but doubted she’d be able to get one in a timely fashion now that the city was probably in a collective panic over this storm.
And now she was panicking too. Because what about this baby?
Where the hell were her parents, and why had she been abandoned today, of all days? Another wave of confusion and heartache crashed through her, and she looked back down at the little girl and her perfect button nose.
“So listen, here’s the deal.” Mitch straightened, a hard edge sounding in his voice that made her straighten as well, like Rose had. “Jules and I discovered this baby while we were out touring the hotel for the upcoming party.” Rose’s eyes widened, but Mitch barreled on. “The baby had a note attached, which we have. But basically…we discovered an orphan.”
“Ho-ly shit,” Rose said. Jules offered a small smile when Rose’s gaze landed on the baby. “What are you going to do with it?’
“I think we should call Social Services,” Jules spoke up. “My other thought was I could take her home with me, but…”
M
itch shook his head. “Not with all this weather on the way. How could you even make it back to your place? Besides, you don’t have anything for her right now.”
Jules deflated a little. He was right. She had nothing for a baby, no accommodations, no nothing. Not even formula.
“Honestly, I think our best bet is to stay right here and ride out the storm.” Mitch propped his hands on his hips. The way his blue gaze swept over her sent a chill of excitement through her. Snowbound with this sexy man? She couldn’t say no to that.
“Okay,” she said, her voice shaky.
“The hotel is equipped with cribs, blankets, formula, and more,” Rose said.
“Great. Can you call for some of…everything? Have it sent to the penthouse.”
Rose nodded and started to leave, but Mitch snapped his fingers. “Ah. Almost forgot. Send these clothes for dry cleaning too. And if you need to spend the night here at the hotel, you know we’ll have you covered.”
“Got it.” Rose sent him a smile. “And thanks.”
Once it was just her and Mitch and the baby in the office, Jules sent Mitch a stricken look. “What now?”
“Let’s go up to my penthouse. We can get settled in there with the baby and see what happens with the weather.” Mitch led the way down the hall to an unmarked elevator door. He punched in a code and then shoved his hands in his pockets. “I insist that you stay here as well.”
“At the hotel?”
“Yes. I have a guest suite in the penthouse. You should be comfortable there.”
She blinked a few times, letting the news settle into her. The elevator doors swept open, and he ushered her inside while the proposition cycled through her.
Sleepover with the hottie billionaire during a freak snowstorm and an unexpected baby?
Yeah.
Why the hell not?
5