by Linda Cajio
“And I’m getting tired of us being a special case. You visit every day to make sure we haven’t damaged the poor kid, and when you’re not here, you’re calling. And then there’s the press. Angelica and I have obliged in every instance without complaint, and yet we are treated like three-year-olds.”
“Look—”
“I know you’re concerned, but all this will stop now, Martha. No more daily visits, no more phone calls every half-hour, no more press interviews. It’s very disruptive to Patrick, and exhausting for Angelica. We’ll work out a more reasonable arrangement.”
“I realize that it hasn’t been easy for you two, and you know I’m grateful to you both for being willing to take on the responsibility of a baby.” Martha smiled slightly. “But I took a real chance on both of you, and I have to make sure it was the right choice. I have to know where he is.”
Dan came to an instant decision. He knew exactly how he could protect his temporary family, and get to know Angelica better at the same time.
“Fine. You have to know where he is, then I’ll be glad to tell you. Starting tomorrow. Patrick will be at my home on Nadera Island.”
Five
Angelica gazed around the oak and glass living room, listened to the silence, and sighed.
“How did you ever manage it?”
Dan smiled smugly. “I keep telling you. Talent.”
She was dubious. “No more press interviews?”
“You don’t even have to look at a newspaper.”
“No inspection by Martha?”
“Not even a peek.”
“No phone call from her every two seconds?”
“Well, one in the morning, and one in the evening.” He grinned lopsidedly. “I couldn’t quite get around that.”
“Ya done good,” she drawled.
“Thank you. The only drawback to this place is no room service. However, the freezer is stocked, and we can get whatever else we need from the general store in the village.”
She gasped dramatically. “What! You mean well have to cook! Not quite as cocky as you think, are you?”
His grin widened. “Try me.”
“What a beautiful view,” she exclaimed, looking out the floor-to-ceiling glass doors that opened onto a redwood patio and faced the white-capped Straits of Juan de Fuca. It was beautiful. Although she knew there were other houses and even a small village on the island, she could see only pine trees and water. The fabulous view lifted her sagging spirits and she realized just how tired she was. She had been given breathing space, and she planned to push all her worries from her mind and enjoy it.
“You know what I want to do first?” she said, turning back around.
“Sleep.”
“You too?”
“I’m looking forward to finding the nearest bed and sacking out.” He began to unfold the playpen. “When I’m finally done setting up everything for Patrick. Are you sure we needed all this?”
She sighed. “We had this argument before we left. It’s just his playpen and stroller, some clothes, bottles, and diapers. It only looks like a lot.”
“It was four trips to that big rental car of yours to get it all in.”
“Better than forgetting something important.”
“We live in fear of that, don’t we? I think I’ll have duplicates of everything sent here for next time.”
She grinned at him, then changed the subject. She didn’t like thinking there might not be a “next time.” “Maybe I can finally get some work done.” Her secretary had sent up all the files and papers she needed, and yet Angelica had barely glanced through them. “I still can’t believe well all be like normal kids and adults. I feel now as if I could breeze through only Patrick and work.”
“I know.” Dan paused in setting up the playpen. “I’m hoping to catch up on my paperwork at least.”
“Thank you,” she said solemnly, “for giving Martha hell.”
“You’re welcome.” He laughed. “Actually, I enjoyed it. Kind of felt like standing up to Sister Agnes.”
“Who’s Sister Agnes?”
“The Dragon Lady of my youth.” He shrugged, looking a little like a shy young boy trying to be nonchalant. “All of this has been rough on you, and you’ve been wonderful, Angelica.”
She shrugged as nonchalantly as possible in return and walked over to the sofa. The carseat, Patrick still strapped into it, was sitting on one of the cushions. She began to undo the buckles, and the baby grinned at her. She smiled back.
“It wasn’t so bad,” she finally said to Dan. “Anyway, it’s hard to say no to something for Patrick.”
“I like him, too. Stick him in here until everything’s unpacked.” Dan stood up. He tossed in his keys, and they bounced once with a jingle on the playpen mat. Patrick’s head shot up and he gurgled happily.
“I know at least three people who would tell you those are unsanitary for Patrick to play with,” Angelica said, lifting the baby into her arms.
Dan’s expression was innocent. “I’m contributing to his immune system. The more germs he comes into contact with, the more natural immunizations his body will create. Therefore, fewer allergies and less illness.”
“You’re a wonderful humanitarian.”
“Thank you. Just don’t tell the Nobel Prize people that it’s the big round medallion on the key chain and the noise the keys make that he likes.”
She set Patrick into the playpen and watched as he reached for the keys. “You’re sure there’s a doctor on the island?”
“Yes, Angelica. He’s retired, but always available. And if anything serious happens, we can have Patrick back in Seattle very quickly. Quit worrying.”
“I’m not worried. A little anxious, but not worried.”
She moved away from the playpen. Getting away to Dan’s home on the island had its advantages, but there was one other little thing that was niggling at her. She decided to broach it subtly.
“Well,” she said, clapping her hands together, “where do you want Patrick’s and my things?”
Dan gave her an indecipherable look. “There are several rooms upstairs you can choose from.”
“Fine.”
She gathered up as much as she could carry, while Dan toted the portable crib he’d rented in Seattle. As she followed him upstairs, she found herself assessing the way his olive-green shirt clung to his strong shoulders. His jeans, faded and comfortable-looking, drew the eye to narrow hips and long legs. There was something about him that spelled confidence … and experience. It was rather like seeing the Superman in Clark Kent—unexpected and very intriguing.
A small, sensible voice inside her reminded her she couldn’t afford to be intrigued.
“This is a beautiful house,” she said, forcing her gaze from his backside. Talking would cover her nervousness. She hoped. “It reminds me a little of Diana’s.”
“We computer programmers have great taste.”
Dan, she knew, had been a programmer like her cousin before deciding to start his own software company.
“I hate to tell you this, Dan, but you aren’t a programmer anymore.”
“There are times when I regret that.”
The words surprised her. She never would have thought Dan was bothered by leaving the programming behind. “You can always hire someone to run the company, you know, and go back to it.”
“I’d still have the ultimate responsibility. Unless I sold Starlight.”
She gasped. “Dan, you aren’t thinking of that?”
“No, I’m not.” He gave her a quick grin over his shoulder. “While I miss the programming, the truth is, I do like owning my own company better. Most of the time. What, did I scare you?”
“Of course,” she said caustically. “Think of the horrendous amount of paperwork I’d have to do for Diana’s part in Starlight.”
He chuckled.
Upstairs, Angelica walked almost cautiously down the hall, anxious about what he might suggest for room arrangements. Fina
lly he indicated one room as “nursery” and the door opposite for her.
She glanced briefly inside her room and was vastly relieved to see what was obviously a guest room.
“This looks great,” she said enthusiastically, stepping over the threshold.
“I thought you’d like it.”
Something in his tone made her turn around. His gaze flicked over her, and a slight smile hovered about his mouth. She had the distinct impression he had been aware of her nervousness. And liked it.
She swallowed.
Maybe things weren’t going to be quite as relaxing as she’d thought.
“It’s a bird. It’s a plane. It’s SuperPatrick!”
Holding Patrick in his arms, Dan carefully raced around the patio. The baby grinned sloppily in his delight.
“This beats the heck out of working, doesn’t it,” he said to Patrick. “Now all we have to do is persuade Angelica of that.”
“I’m combining work and relaxation,” she said, from her seat on the chaise longue. Papers, weighted down by pens, cups, soda cans, and even rocks, were strewn on a small table and the foot of the lounger. “You ought to try it. Danny. SuperPatrick could probably use a break.”
There was the nickname again, Dan thought with satisfaction. She’d been using it more and more since they had arrived at the island three days ago. Every time he heard it, something very primitive ran through his veins. Seeing her dressed in her new jeans, oversized red shirt, and cheap plastic thongs only strengthened his basic reaction. She could wear anything and look completely and totally sexy.
“Let him be SuperPatrick a little longer,” he said. “He’s going to have to take a nap soon anyway.”
She shook her head and chuckled. “You mean you’re having too much fun.”
“That too. What do you think about letting him take a nap out here on the patio?”
“Only if you promise to work.”
“Angelica, you’re turning into a nag.”
“I’m protecting Patrick,” she said solemnly. “You’d be picking him up the first time he rolled over, so you could play again. You’ve done it before. Honestly, the poor kid wouldn’t get any sleep if you had your way.”
“Thanks,” he grumbled. But he sat down in one of the patio chairs, just in case she was right and he was playing too much with the baby. “He’s a good kid, though, isn’t he?”
She lifted her head and smiled affectionately at Patrick. “Yes. My secretary Jane says that some babies are just happy babies, easygoing. Patrick certainly seems that way.”
Dan looked horrified. “You mean this could be worse?”
She shrugged. “He’s a lot of work, but he’s not crying all the time.”
“Except when he’s hungry. Then he turns into a screaming machine.”
“Well, he can’t be perfect. But Lord knows, he’s patient with us about everything else.”
“Sssshhh!” Dan hissed. “He might catch on that we’re idiots about babies.”
She laughed. “I think he already knows.”
He realized that this was one of the easiest conversations the two of them had ever had. Coming to his island home was probably the best idea he’d had since forming Starlight Software. The longer they stayed isolated like this, the more she would lose her wariness of him.
If he could hold out, he admitted to himself. Angelica was intoxicating, and he deliberately refrained from touching her. He sensed that part of her stiffness with him was because of their personality differences in the past, although that, thanks to Patrick, was easing. But there was more to it. In odd moments, he recognized that she was vulnerable and afraid. He wanted her, yet he knew she could not be pressed. She would freeze up and bolt.
It would have to start in friendship, he thought. And Patrick was the key. Angelica had begun to view him with something other than dislike. And he had begun to see exactly the kind of woman she was—fierce and fragile, serene and determined. Fire and ice that had obsessed him from the beginning.
“Dan.”
Her low, enticing voice broke the spell of his thoughts.
“What?” he asked, glancing over at her.
She pointed to the baby in his arms. “I think your buddy has had enough.”
He looked down to see Patrick sound asleep against his chest.
“It’s probably the air,” he said, carefully standing up with his burden.
“Probably.”
Angelica’s smile held an odd intimacy, and Dan felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach.
She might eventually lose her stiffness with him, he thought, but he had the feeling he’d turn to stone.
“Okay, so we needed the stroller.”
Angelica smothered a grin at Dan’s grumpy tone, as he pushed the umbrella stroller up the dirt road toward the house hidden behind the trees. Glancing sideways, she could discern his grimace of surrender in the deepening twilight.
“You could always have carried Patrick,” she said.
“Point of order, counselor. I’ve conceded already.”
She laughed. “Point taken. By the way, Nadera is a nice place.”
They had decided to take a walk through Nadera’s tiny “one-horse” village after dinner. One horse was about all there was room for, Angelica thought. There was a cluster of clapboard houses around a small central green containing one flagpole. Add a general store in the back of the Stein house, and that was it.
“I like it,” Dan said. “And Patrick liked the fuss everyone made over him.”
“He’s a celebrity, and the little ham knows it. Who was that old man who kept tweaking Patrick’s nose?”
“Old Mr. Stein, as opposed to his son who is not known as young Mr. Stein, just Asa.”
“Ah. Well, Patrick loved him.”
“I think Patrick likes it here too.” He leaned down to look at the baby. “Don’t you, buddy?”
Patrick was busy gazing upward at the dark, looming tree branches. It was hard to tell exactly what he was thinking, but Dan smiled triumphantly anyway.
Dammit, Angelica thought, as she forced herself to smile back. For the past week she’d continually had to be careful not to be drawn into her own lie, yet it was increasingly harder to resist Dan. He didn’t have to make her laugh, too.
Later, after Patrick was settled in his crib, she pulled on a sweater and stepped out onto the patio. Clouds drifted across a quarter moon, and the ceasless sound of surf washing along the shoreline reached her ears. Although the patio was lit, the forest loomed darkly just feet away. The scene should have soothed her, should have eased her inner tensions. Somehow, though, it brought back her earlier thoughts of Dan more sharply.
She could feel the restlessness of her body, the long denial of femininity slowly crumbling. It was the damn closeness to Dan, she decided. She tried to relax her tense muscles, telling herself she was only reacting to the situation. She would have felt the same way with any attractive man.
If only she were promiscuous, she thought half-seriously. She wouldn’t be suffering now for suppressing the birds and the bees. Hell, she wouldn’t have any emotional conflicts, either.
The patio doors slid open behind her, and she whirled around in time to see Dan step outside.
“Nice evening,” he said, and took a deep breath.
She could almost feel his chest expand with air. The muscles were stretching under his shirt and his rib cage was lifting.…
She swallowed and croaked out, “Yes, it is a nice evening. Is Patrick asleep?”
He nodded. “I assume so. I didn’t hear anything.”
“Maybe that room is too far away,” she began, “and with the door closed … I better go in.”
“I didn’t mean to chase you inside. Stay a few minutes more and enjoy it. Even if Patrick does wake up, hell be fine for a while.”
She had no excuse to get around his sensible logic. That was the problem with former computer programmers, she thought with irritation. They knew their logic.
“You know,” he continued, “this past week has taught me to deeply appreciate moments like this.” He walked over to the edge of the patio, near to where she hovered by the wall. “The silence, the serenity, the …”
“… nothing to do,” she finished.
He chuckled. “That, too.”
He had said only a few minutes, and she knew she couldn’t leave yet without looking silly. She might be a little sex-starved, but she was, she hoped, mature.
“It seems strange,” she said, praying she sounded neutrally pleasant, “that just a short time ago, I was in an intricate business meeting, fighting for my client’s rights. And now my biggest fight is how to get a sleeper suit on Patrick while he’s trying to roll onto his stomach. I did better with what’s-his-face from Mark IV Computers.”
“Mitch Garner.”
“Right. What’s-his-face. By the way, have you heard anything from them?”
“Oh.” His abashed grin was easy to see in the patio lighting. “I meant to tell you I got a message that they’ve asked for another meeting.”
“Oh, Lord,” she muttered. “How can I hold a meeting with Patrick? I don’t know if I can.”
“Before you panic, you might want to know that J panicked. I told Clark to tell Mark IV we’d get back to them.”
She immediately relaxed. “Thank goodness.”
She lifted her face to the night, and breathed in the crisp air one last time.…
Dan started to laugh. She lowered her chin and asked, “What’s so funny?”
“You. There was a time when you would have pounced on me about that phone call. In fact, you would have given me hell for not telling you about it.”
Her eyes widened, and she stared at him in astonishment. “I didn’t, did I? It seems … unimportant … while Patrick is so clearly important.”
“It’s funny how a little guy like him can just take over your life, isn’t it?”
“Astounding,” she agreed. “And you don’t even know it. Do you remember that first night? I was so terrified that he’d break.”
“I was terrified there’d be more diapers like that first one.”
“There have been.”