Both she and Nadia had had less than ideal upbringings. Annabelle was so sweet, so innocent. She had so much promise and potential. She deserved a good parent.
Nadia didn’t answer right away. “I do,” she said in a soft voice.
“It’s not happening on my watch.”
“You’re right. You’re completely right. And I’m in.”
“You’d still be willing to live with me?” Kate’s chest tightened with emotion.
Francie might have been her sister by blood, but Nadia was the sister of her heart. They’d been together through thick and thin since they were five years old. They now both taught grade school in Seattle, and they’d bought a cheery, two-bedroom-plus-den condo nearby. For all intents and purposes, they’d created a family.
“There’s a little girl who needs someone,” Nadia said. “Neither of us is walking away. So, first off you need to find out what the grounds are for declaring someone an unfit parent. You’re her aunt. Hopefully, that puts you next in line.”
Mind completely made up, Kate spent most of the next day in the library, reading law books and checking legal websites, researching. Then, in preparation to visit Annabelle again in her Francie persona, she went to a secondhand store, finding a pair of skintight, cartoon patterned slacks and a black net crop top.
She found herself impatient to get things rolling, but she didn’t want to seem pushy and alienate Quentin. So she waited one more night before donning the new outfit and heading back over to the mansion.
Luckily, the housekeeper who answered the door recognized her and let her straight in. It was ten in the morning on a Wednesday. She hoped Quentin would be at work and that Annabelle would be awake.
She checked the kitchen first, peeked at the patio and pool, and then headed toward the staircase that led up to the nursery. Partway along the hall, she heard Quentin’s voice coming from the office.
“Back off,” he shouted at someone. He sounded very angry.
Kate halted, wondering what she should do. The open office door was directly opposite the staircase, and she couldn’t slip past it without risking being caught.
“How many times do I have to say it,” he continued. “Forget Ceci. I’m not going there.”
There was a silent pause, so she assumed he was on a phone call.
“No,” he said sharply. “Because I’m not cut out for prison, that’s why.”
A wave of anxiety washed through her. She took a couple of reflexive steps backward. If Quentin caught her eavesdropping, he’d never trust her again.
“It’s different,” he stated emphatically. “With Ceci, we’re talking a whole other level.”
Suddenly, he appeared in the doorway, phone to his ear. His vision instantly zeroed in on Kate.
She pretended to be walking forward, moving swiftly, making her tone cheerful and oblivious. “Morning, Quentin.” She pointed to the staircase. “I was going to stop by and see Annabelle.”
His gaze narrowed, as if he was deciding whether or not to believe her.
“She wasn’t in the kitchen. Does she nap midmorning?” Kate stopped in front of him, a guileless smile pasted on her face.
“Call you back,” he growled into the phone.
Kate neutralized her expression. “Is this a bad time? I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“Work,” said Quentin, ending the call. “What did you need?”
Kate smiled breezily again. “I wanted to say howdy to Annabelle, maybe get a picture of her for my mom. I promised I would.”
It was a flat-out lie. Chloe hadn’t shown the slightest interest in Annabelle, except as a way to get to Quentin and his wealth.
He still seemed tense, causing Kate to wonder again about the seriousness of the phone call. He’d talked about prison, and Ceci again. Was he planning on something more than party drugs? She told herself to stop speculating in front of him, afraid her suspicions would show on her face. There’d be plenty of time to think it through later.
But was somebody pressuring him to sell drugs? Maybe Ceci was a new designer drug. Even as she considered the possibility, it seemed ludicrous. Billionaires didn’t need to sell illegal drugs.
“Quentin?” A male voice sounded behind her.
She turned to see Rex coming toward them.
Rex gave her a wide, overly friendly smile. He’d gotten more suggestive each time he’d seen her. He was way too touchy, too flirty, and he kept giving her lingering looks that seemed to say they shared a special secret.
He clearly considered himself a ladies’ man, and he didn’t catch on to any of the subtle hints she was sending that she wasn’t interested. Either that or he was ignoring them.
“Morning, gorgeous.” His gaze took a tour of her sexy top, tight pants and purple spike-heeled suede boots.
It occurred to her that she was partly to blame. Her looks and actions sure weren’t warning him away. She wished she could have it both ways, keeping up the facade while keeping her distance, but she couldn’t.
“Morning, Rex.” She forced herself to smile back, masking her dislike.
He gave her a hug. It was too tight and too lengthy, but she gritted her teeth and played along.
Then he gave her a kiss on the cheek and drew back, squeezing her hands for good measure.
She resisted the urge to wipe the kiss away.
“I’m heading up to see Annabelle,” she told him, making a move toward the stairs. “Nice to see you again.” She looked at Quentin. “Thanks for this. I really appreciate your hospitality.”
Quentin seemed to finally relax. “Brody said you took the emeralds.”
Kate’s hand went involuntarily to the chickadee necklace she’d put on that morning. Then she reminded herself to look thrilled about her new riches. “The emeralds are spectacular.”
“You have good taste,” said Quentin, considering her closely.
“And you are extraordinarily generous.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Francie was lucky to have you.”
Quentin greeted the observation with a knowing smirk. “Francie knew how to take care of herself.”
Kate wasn’t surprised to hear that, but she pretended to be oblivious to the undertone. “She was a good big sister.”
Quentin’s phone rang in his hand. He glanced at the number, and then looked past her to Rex, his expression irritated.
“I’ll get out of your way,” she said cheerfully, and quickly headed for the stairs.
More footsteps sounded in the hall, and a gruff, Ukrainian voice joined the conversation. The bodyguards were back.
“Take the call,” one of them said in English.
Kate glanced fleetingly back to see that it was the tall bald one who had spoken. He met her gaze. She looked instantly away and quickly trotted up the stairs.
She was relieved to find Annabelle awake, sitting in a padded plastic chair on the carpet, grinning and kicking happily. Christina was folding a basket of baby clothes.
She greeted Kate with a friendly smile. “Good morning.”
“Am I disturbing you?” asked Kate, her gaze drawn to the baby.
“Not at all. She’s in a very good mood.”
“I can see that.” Kate crossed the floor to Annabelle.
“She slept right through the night,” said Christina.
“Aren’t you the clever girl,” Kate cooed.
“She finished all her cereal at breakfast.”
“Is that a good thing?” Kate couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she crouched down. “Hello, sweetheart.” She gave Annabelle her index finger to squeeze.
“Bah, bah, bah, bah,” said Annabelle.
“I’ve just introduced solid foods,” said Christina. “She seems to love eating.
I was thinking maybe pureed carrots next. Either that or peas.” Then she paused. “I’m sorry. This is probably boring for you.”
“Not at all. I want to hear everything.” Kate hesitated. “Would it be okay to hold her?”
“Go ahead,” Christina said softly. “It’s nice for Annabelle to have family.”
Kate put one hand behind Annabelle’s back, and cradled her head, lifting her gently to her shoulder. She was wearing a stretchy red one-piece outfit with a yellow giraffe embroidered on the front. She was soft and warm, and she smelled sweet.
Her hands immediately tangled in Kate’s hair and pulled.
“You get in the habit of pulling it back.” Christina laughed, pointing to her own sensible ponytail.
“It’s fine.” Kate could comb it out later.
Then Annabelle’s legs went stiff, her face screwed up, and a distinctive rumble emitted from her bottom.
“Oh, dear,” said Christina.
“Don’t worry,” said Kate. “It’s what babies do.”
Christina quickly came over. “I’ll deal with that.”
Kate didn’t want her time with Annabelle to end. “I can help. Or I can change her. I don’t mind.”
“So, you’re experienced at this?” Christina looked relieved.
“Not exactly,” said Kate. “Maybe you could talk me through it?”
“Aren’t you the brave auntie,” Christina teased.
“I’m not overly squeamish.”
“That’s a switch.” Christina pointed to a white, padded change table with diapers, wipes and creams laid out on a shelf.
“Quentin doesn’t do diapers?” Somehow, that didn’t shock Kate.
“Neither did Francie.”
“How is that possible?” Kate couldn’t say she was surprised to hear Francie didn’t like diapers. But how could a mother avoid changing her own baby?
“She thought that’s what nannies were for.” Christina’s expression sobered. “She didn’t seem prepared for the day-to-day job of being a parent.”
“I’m sorry,” said Kate as she laid Annabelle gently down on the change table.
“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for.” Christina took a step back to give Kate some elbow room. “I have to admit, I’m interested to see how you do at this.”
“Given my dysfunctional parenting genes?”
Christina laughed at the joke.
“My mother wasn’t much of a mother, either. So, Francie came by it honestly.” Kate located a long zipper on Annabelle’s outfit.
She might not have done this before, but obviously the outer layer had to come off before she could get down to business. An odor was now wafting through the air, and she could only imagine Annabelle wouldn’t be comfortable for long. Though, for the moment, the baby seemed perfectly happy, still grinning and kicking her feet.
“You don’t have to take her arms out of the sleeves,” Christina instructed. “Just push the rest out of the way. Undo the tapes. Be careful she doesn’t turn over.”
“I’ve got her.” Kate held on to Annabelle’s legs, lifting just enough to slide out the soiled diaper.
Christina handed her a wet wipe.
It was decidedly awkward, but Kate managed to get the baby’s bottom cleaned.
“Here’s a fresh one.” Christina handed over a folded diaper. “Spread out the tapes, then slide it under.”
Annabelle was wriggling in earnest now.
“She’s hard to hold.” Kate laughed.
“She loves being naked.”
“I don’t blame her.” The diapers might be functional, but they are also bulky and constraining.
“You should see her in the bath. She’s in heaven.”
“I’d like that,” said Kate as she wrapped the diaper around Annabelle’s tummy. “I’d like that a lot.”
“I bathe her before bed,” said Christina.
Kate couldn’t resist. Without even doing up the onesie, she lifted Annabelle back into her arms, cradling her close. “She’s an angel.”
Christina stroked the baby’s hair. “She is that.”
“Am I interrupting?” Brody’s voice was distinct in the nursery doorway.
Kate turned, and his attention seemed arrested by the sight of Annabelle in her arms.
It took him a minute to speak. “She looks like you.”
Kate reflexively glanced at the baby. “She looks like a baby.”
“It’s the blue eyes.” He moved closer, seeming to consider Annabelle.
“Francie had blue eyes.”
“Let me,” said Christina, taking Annabelle from her arms and making a discreet exit into her own connected bedroom. She shut the door behind her.
Kate didn’t want to give up Annabelle, and she was annoyed with Brody for interrupting her visit.
After Christina left, Brody was still considering her.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
She went on alert. “About what?”
“I keep tripping up against it.” His gaze was far too astute, too penetrating. “You’re up to something here.”
“Are you hungry?” she asked, hoping to change the subject. “I’m hungry. Maybe some eggs Benedict?”
“It’s got nothing to do with the emeralds, does it?” he asked.
“Or waffles. I could definitely go for some waffles.”
He moved, starting to circle her.
“Brody, what are you—”
“It’s Annabelle. You’re here for Annabelle.”
Kate’s mouth went dry, and she swallowed trying to relieve it. “Sure.” She pretended to misunderstand his point. “That’s right. I thought I’d get a picture of her today.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I saw your expression when I walked in.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I had no expression.”
He took in her outlandish slacks and the sexy top. “What’s your plan?”
“I don’t have a plan.”
“You’re lying.”
“Brody.”
“I saw Bert and Ernie down there.”
She assumed he meant the bodyguard team. She was only too happy to let the subject change, but she was frightened by how much he’d already guessed.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he said, his expression turning calculated. “You report to me on what they say, and I’ll pretend you’re here after money.”
“I am here after money.”
“No, you’re not. But I’m willing to pretend you are. So long as you help me in return. You do that, and your secret will be safe with me.”
“I have no secret.”
“Stop,” he told her with quiet finality.
She quickly weighed the pros and cons, and realized further denial would get her nowhere. “Okay,” she said. “I admit nothing. But I’ll do what you want.”
“You know, you don’t have to admit something out loud for us both to know it’s true.”
She didn’t bother to acknowledge his words. “They did say one thing this morning. It was Bert. And it was in English.”
“Which one is Bert?”
“The tall guy. Which one is Bert to you?”
“Same one,” said Brody. “What did he say?”
“Take the call. He told Quentin to take the call.”
Brody’s brow furrowed. “What call?”
“I don’t know, but Quentin got another call a couple of days ago. He refused that one. And Bert didn’t seem happy at the time.”
“Do you know who called?”
“Someone named Kozak. Maybe he called back today.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t know
I was on your payroll.”
“You’re on the payroll now.”
“So it seems. Are we done?” She wanted the conversation to end, and for Brody to be on his way.
But he didn’t leave. Instead, he took her fingertips gently in his, like he’d done before. And just like before, she felt a warmth travel all the way to her chest.
“You’re not who you pretend to be,” he said.
“Are you?” she asked in return.
She instantly knew she’d touched on something. There was a momentary flash in his eyes—shock, or maybe even fear.
But then his expression smoothed and he eased in close. “I’m a man who finds you attractive.”
It was easy to see that this time it was Brody trying to throw her off the scent of something.
She wasn’t falling for it. “What’s going on, Brody?”
“I’m about to kiss you.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m going to do it anyway.”
“Brody—”
His kiss cut off her words.
His lips were warm and firm. Unlike the last kiss, there was nothing tentative about it. She didn’t care. If it was possible, this kiss was even better. And in seconds she was kissing him back.
His free hand went to the small of her back, pulling her intimately against him as he tilted her head, deepening the kiss.
She knew she should push him away, and she promised she would in just a second, just a moment, just a few more minutes of paradise.
But when he was the one to draw back, it was all she could do to keep from whimpering at the loss.
“Admit you have a secret,” he said.
She wanted to say no, but the word wouldn’t form.
“Like I said, it’s safe with me.” He cupped her face with his palm. “I promise, it’s safe with me.”
He gave her a brief parting kiss, and then he was gone.
Seven
Brody told himself to stop obsessing about Kate. But it was harder to do now that he’d confirmed there was more to her than met the eye. Plus, she’d become part of his investigation, so he needed to think about her. It was only prudent for him to try to figure her out. It was a double-edged sword, because thinking about her forced him to admit just how attracted he was to her.
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