“Couldn’t be bothered to stay and see you settled in?” She did say that and it sounded about right. Yiannis wasn’t one for commitment. Even the two hour variety.
“He just got back from Malaysia last night. He’s exhausted. He needs his rest.” Gran always managed to think the best of him.
But Cat had snorted. She knew Yiannis worked. But she also knew he played. Hard. Mostly what she saw Yiannis doing was playing—chatting up women. Charming them. Rubbing suntan lotion on their backs. Kissing them. Making them fall in love with him.
Then moving on to the next one.
Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel.
Poor Yiannis, she thought, annoyed. Yes, he might be exhausted. But she was willing to bet that if he was in his bed right now, he wasn’t sleeping.
When she finally drove onto the island, the streets were deserted. Even the bars were closed. And while it ordinarily took ages to navigate Balboa’s crowded main streets to get to Gran’s, now she was pulling up to park in just a few minutes. All the lights were off at Yiannis’s house on the front of the lot. But in the back, above the garage, there was a light on in Gran’s living room. Apparently Mr Savas had left the light on for her.
Grudgingly, Cat gave him one point for that.
She opened the car door and, in the unaccustomed silence, could hear the sounds of waves breaking against the shore. Getting out, she stretched, working the stiffness out of her cramped muscles and breathing in the damp sea air. Then, still rolling her shoulders, she opened the back door and reached in, scooping a cat up into each arm.
She carried them past Yiannis’s house, through the small garden and up the stairs to the apartment. Then she opened Gran’s door and shooed the cats in. Then she went back for her suitcase. Lugging it up the stairs, she tried to imagine when her grandmother would be able to climb them again.
Or if she would.
Something else she didn’t want to think about.
Finally she reached the small porch, shoved open the door and heaved the suitcase inside. The cats loped toward her, then wove between her ankles, purring and meowing.
“Food,” she translated and fished a can and their bowls out of her suitcase. While they were eating, she filled the litter box that Gran kept for their visits. By the time she finished Hux and Baz were back, looking for more food.
“Tomorrow,” she told them sternly “Now just chill out and let’s get some sleep.”
They purred a bit more, but she resolutely ignored them. She was too exhausted to think. Her brain buzzed. Her eyes felt scratchy.
At least tonight, with Gran in the hospital, she wouldn’t have to sleep on the sofa.
She went into the bathroom and stripped down to her T-shirt and underwear, too tired to dig through her suitcase for a nightgown. Then she brushed her teeth and shook her head at the sight of her bloodshot eyes in the bathroom mirror. Then, yawning, barely able to keep those eyes open, she pushed open the door to the bedroom, flicked on the light …
And stopped dead.
Yiannis—and a baby—were fast asleep on Gran’s bed.
CHAPTER TWO
“YOU!”
At the squawk of feminine indignation and the sudden blinding overhead light, Yiannis threw up a hand to protect his eyes. Squinting, trying to figure out where the hell he was, he raised his head and saw two things—a sleeping baby on his chest and Catriona MacLean—in her underwear—gaping at him from the doorway.
He gaped right back, as dazed by the view as by the light. Fortunately he had the presence of mind to keep a hand firmly on Harry’s back as the little boy began to stir. “Turn off the damn light,” he commanded, though it rather pained him to do so. The view—as his pupils adjusted—was stunning.
“What?” Cat didn’t move.
Harry whimpered.
“Turn off the flaming light, woman.” Yiannis would have levered himself up and done it for her, but doing so would have disturbed the baby. “Unless,” he added through his teeth, “you want him to start screaming. Again.”
After three hours of virtually nonstop crying that had only tapered off what felt like minutes ago, Yiannis sure as hell didn’t. All his nerve endings were frayed. Harry would probably still be yelling if Yiannis hadn’t finally taken a page out of his brother Theo’s book and settled the little blighter down on his chest.
That at last, had worked. But even as he finally quieted and drifted off, Harry still emitted intermittent heart-wrenching sighs that shuddered through his small frame. They made Yiannis feel guilty, though he wasn’t the one who ought to be, heaven knew.
Fortunately the shuddering sobs were getting fewer and fewer. But he was not inclined to let anyone wake Harry again any time soon. He thought he might have to get up and shut it out for her when finally Cat did what she was told. The light flicked off. But he could still glimpse those memorable slender curves silhouetted in the doorway.
“What are you doing in Gran’s bedroom?” Cat demanded.
What the hell did she think he was doing?
“Guess,” he said irritably. “And shut the door while you’re doing it. I’ll be out when I’m sure he’s settled.”
“Huh.” It was a snort that carried with it a truckload of doubt. But at least she finally pulled the door shut and remained on the other side of it.
Yiannis ground his teeth. He would have shut his eyes and gone back to sleep again, given half a chance, even though he’d doubtless have Cat’s curves dancing on the insides of his eyelids. But he knew sleep was out of the question.
Cat would be back, even more annoyed than she was now—and she’d wake Harry. And while a part of him thought it would serve her right to deal with a screaming child, the sane sensible part knew that Harry didn’t deserve to be awakened again.
Sighing, Yiannis worked a hand under Harry’s belly and slowly rolled onto his side so he could slide Harry off onto the mattress. Harry made a soft whuffling noise. Yiannis froze.
The door cracked slightly. “Well?” a voice whispered.
Yiannis’s teeth ground together. “Out!” And he held his breath, waiting until he was sure Harry was asleep again. Then he brushed a hand over Harry’s downy head and started to slide off the bed when suddenly he felt something bounce onto it.
“What the—?”
A hard fur-covered head bumped against his shoulder. Yiannis reached out a hand and encountered a cat. A cat?
He grimaced. Oh, hell, yes. He remembered it now. Careful not to jostle the mattress, Yiannis eased himself off it, then snagged the cat up into his arms and, quietly as he could, he crossed the room and eased open the door.
Catriona MacLean was hastily zipping herself into a pair of baggy shorts. Pity. He would have liked to have seen more of those long bare legs. He remembered them well enough. Too well, damn it, for his peace of mind. The sight of them and the pert breasts that still peaked braless beneath her shirt were distractions that would only complicate things. More complications he didn’t need.
When he dragged his gaze up to her face, he found her glaring at him. Deliberately and quietly he shut the door behind him, crossed the room and dropped the cat into her arms. “Yours?” he said acidly.
Her arms came around the cat and she buried her face against him for one long moment. Excellent. The feline covered her breasts.
“Mine,” she said tersely. Then she lifted her flashing eyes. “What are you doing here? You and … and … your baby?” She almost stumbled over the last word.
Hell! She thought it was his?
“Not my baby,” Yiannis said firmly.
An expression he couldn’t quite interpret flickered across her features. “Then what are you doing with it?” she demanded.
“Him,” Yiannis said. “His bed is here.”
“His bed?” She blinked.
“Crib,” Yiannis said. “Didn’t you see it?”
“I didn’t notice. I saw—you … and …” She gave a wave of her arm toward the bedroom.
“Harry.”
She stared. Her mouth opened. And shut. “H-Harry?” There was a flicker of recognition colored by doubt.
Yiannis nodded. “Harry.”
“Not …” She shook her head as her voice trailed off. Her gaze flicked to the closed door, then back to him. She hugged the cat tighter, as if he were some sort of shield she could hide behind. But of course he was a cat and had no intention of letting himself be used for anything at all. So he twisted and rippled right out of her arms and bounded away. Cats were like that. That’s why Yiannis was a dog person.
“Misty’s Harry?” Her tone was a mixture of doubt and disbelief.
“The very same.”
He watched as Catriona MacLean digested that. The doubt and disbelief both wavered, then slowly vanished, followed by a look, not of shock, but of weary resignation. Her mouth tightened into a thin line. It looked as if she had the same opinion of Misty that he did.
Finally—something they could agree on.
“Where is Misty?” She looked around as if she might not have noticed Harry’s mother in the room.
“Germany.”
“What?” Then, “You’re joking.”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
Their gazes locked, dueled.
Finally Cat accepted the truth and shook her head. “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She sounded weary and disgusted, and her still pale face now showed an interesting blotch of freckles that stood out against her pallor. The indomitable Catriona MacLean looked worn out.
It was the first time he’d been given a glimpse of the Cat beneath the fierce facade she presented to the world. Or at least to him. It reminded him of the day she’d told him her hopes—and he’d walked away from them.
He didn’t want to think about that. Nor, apparently, did she. She must have realized that she was betraying her feelings, so she drew herself up sharply and wrapped her arms across her breasts.
“So what’s he doing here?” she asked coolly. “With you?”
“He was staying with your grandmother.”
“While Misty went to Germany?” Doubt dripped from her words.
“Apparently that’s where Harry’s father is.”
Cat pursed her lips, the information obviously gave her pause for thought. Then she apparently had the same thought he’d had. “Why didn’t she take Harry?”
“Maggie said Harry’s dad doesn’t know he is one.”
Cat groaned. “So she’s gone to tell him.”
It wasn’t a question. She sighed and shook her head. “Fat lot of good that will do.” Then she reconsidered. “Well, I suppose it does her some good. Gets her away from her responsibility for a day or two.”
“Week or two,” Yiannis corrected. “Two, actually.”
“What?”
“Quiet! You’ll wake him up again. You don’t want that. Trust me.”
To his amazement, she immediately pressed her lips into a firm tight line and didn’t say another word, just stared at him mutely. And he stared back, wondering why he did—why he always had. Catriona wasn’t beautiful, God knew. And she wasn’t his usual type. Ordinarily Yiannis went for blondes with long straight hair, small curvy girls who fit beneath his arm. Cat was nearly as tall as he was, more angles than curves, with vivid red curls, a million or so freckles, a tiny gap between her front teeth and green eyes that flashed fire rather than spoke of bedroom delights. Not his type at all.
And yet he’d wanted her from the moment he’d seen her.
Still did. And that was the annoying part.
He didn’t want to be plagued by attractions that wouldn’t go away. He’d steered clear of them his whole life. He’d had plenty of women tell him he was commitment-phobic. They all wanted to know what dire circumstance in his past had so damaged his psyche that he couldn’t bring himself to get involved.
“He’s not damaged. He’s selfish,” his sister Tallie had told one of them.
It was, essentially, the truth. Relationships required effort. They made demands. Took time. He wasn’t interested. He liked his freedom, wanted to be unencumbered, forever footloose and free.
It was why Cat snarled and spat at him. They’d had three months together. Damn good months, he remembered. He’d never clicked with any woman the way he had with Cat, in bed and out.
But ultimately she’d wanted more than he’d been willing to give. And now, according to Maggie, she’d found someone who was willing. He found himself looking at her hand to see if she wore a ring.
She did. It flashed in the light as she moved. His jaw tightened.
“Impressive,” he grunted.
She blinked. “What?”
“Never mind.” More power to her, he thought grimly. She’d got what she wanted. And he didn’t have to keep standing here. He was free to go. Smiling, he flexed his shoulders.
“Right,” he said. “I’ll be off then.”
“Off? No!” The sudden urgency in her tone surprised him, as did the volume. So much for silence. Instantly Cat clapped her hand over her mouth, then warily uncovered it again after a long moment’s wait didn’t produce a wail from the bedroom. Then she said in little more than a whisper, “I mean, no. You can’t.”
“Can’t?”
Cat shrugged awkwardly. “Well, I mean … he doesn’t know me. He knows you!”
“He didn’t know me fifteen hours ago.”
“But he knows you now,” she insisted.
“So?”
The color was high in her cheeks. “So you don’t want him having a fit when he wakes up and finds a stranger here.” She waved her hands. The ring flashed again.
Yiannis narrowed his eyes. “You mean you don’t.”
But she didn’t admit that. She gave him a guileless look, then pursed her lips and raised her chin. “Children need continuity.” She sounded like a public service pronouncement.
“Says who?”
“I deal with children every day. I’m a librarian.”
“Then tell him to shush.”
Her green eyes flashed. “Not a stereotypical librarian. I give programs. I tell stories with puppets.”
“I’m sure Harry will love puppets.”
She hugged her arms across her chest. “You’re laughing at me.”
“I’m not,” he swore, but he did like watching her eyes flash. He always had.
“You are,” she disagreed and gave him one of her disapproving looks. “But when he wakes up and doesn’t know who I am, that won’t be good for him.”
“I’m not sure life has been particularly good for Harry.”
Cat’s mouth opened. And closed again. From her expression he thought she was considering what Harry’s life was like.
Finally she sighed. “Poor Harry. Gran shouldn’t have said she’d take him.”
He frowned. “And that would have been better because?”
She flung her hands in the air. “Because then maybe for once Misty would act responsibly.”
“I wouldn’t count on it.”
“No. Probably not. But I don’t know what to do. I can’t take him for two weeks! And Gran won’t be able to.”
“Misty’s number is in the rooster bowl,” Yiannis told her. “Maybe you’ll have better luck getting hold of her than I did.”
“I doubt it. Germany?” She shook her head. “I can’t think why Gran would have agreed. She didn’t even mention it when she called me.”
“She didn’t mention him to me, either—until I was putting her in the car.”
At Cat’s look of surprise, Yiannis shrugged. “Well, what was she going to do? Call social services and tell them to come and get this spare baby she couldn’t take care of any longer?”
“Of course not, but—” Cat paused, considering. “I guess she didn’t want to give you a chance to back out.”
“Or you, either, obviously,” Yiannis said.
“So, what are we going to do?”
Yiannis blinked. “We?”
&nb
sp; “Oh, I forgot. You don’t do responsibility, do you?”
“I’m here,” he pointed out, irritated at how the veiled accusation stung.
“And leaving,” she reminded him.
“You want me to spend the night with you?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“I do not. I know better than that,” Cat snapped. “I’m only trying to think of what’s best for Harry.”
“Well, I did my bit. Maggie said you’d be taking over.”
“It’s not what she said to me! She said I should help you.”
“You’re her granddaughter.”
“You’re her landlord!”
“You’re Harry’s aunt. Or cousin. Or something.”
“Not … technically. Misty is Walter’s granddaughter. Not related to me.”
“Or me,” Yiannis pointed out.
There was a silence during which he could actually hear a wave break against the sand half a block away, could almost see thoughts forming in Cat’s mind, though he didn’t know what they were.
Finally she sighed. “Fine,” she said abruptly. “Go. Take your freedom and leave. It’s only what I’d expect.” She started toward the bedroom.
Instinctively Yiannis blocked her way. “If you need me to stay, I’ll stay.”
Where the hell had that come from?
Cat stopped inches from him. Close enough that he could count her blasted freckles. Dark brows hiked haughtily on her forehead. “I don’t need you at all!”
“But you’re afraid Harry might,” he persisted.
She shoved a hand through her hair. The diamond winked. “He might,” she said grudgingly. “If he was that upset before, how upset will he be if he wakes up and finds yet another stranger here. But never mind. You’re right. Harry is my responsibility. Of the two of us, I’m the one who should be taking care of him. Now—” she looked past him toward the front door, as if wishing him through it “—it’s late. I’ve driven all the way from San Francisco. I’d like to go to bed. I’m tired.”
Yiannis would like to go to bed, too. With her, damn it. He was a healthy red-blooded male, for God’s sake. But thinking about it wasn’t going to make it happen. So he shoved the thought away.
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