by Day Leclaire
Toni Donati — She’s only three months old and already she needs a score card. She’s been put in her father’s care, who’s temporarily left her with his brother Luc, who’s recruited his secretary, Grace, who’s pretending to be his fiancee, hoping to mollify the police, who’ve called the child welfare people, who believe that Grace and Luc are married.
Luc Salvatore — Simply put, he’s every woman’s dream. And he loves women — all women. Young and old, short and tall … well, you get the picture. He bowk them over like ninepins, including each and every secretary he’s ever had. But his new secretary, Grace, isn’t falling. Which intrigues him. She intrigues him … . And now that he needs Grace to pose as his fiancee so he can retain custody of his niece — maybe he’ll discover why.
Grace Barnes — For a minister’s daughter, this past year has been a revelation. Frankly, she didn’t know she was capable of telling this many lies. Even her mousy appearance is a lie — all in an effort to resist Luc Salvatore’s attractions. And you know what? It isn’t working! Especially now that she’s staying with him, pretending to be engaged.
Dear Reader, Writing this book for Kids & Kisses brought to mind the first time I held my son. Seconds after he was bom, the doctor rested him on my stomach. He by facedown, sort of surprised by all the noise and confusion, amazed to discover he could fully stretch his little limbs and kick and squirm, delighted to discover he had a voice. I spoke to him … I can’t remember what I said. I probably murmured his name — Matthew — and whispered those eternal words of love all mothers speak when they first lay eyes on their newborn child.
But what I remember most is his reaction to my voice. His little brow puckered and he tried to lift his head and peer into my face. He was the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen.
I fell in love in that instant. A lasting love. A forever love. My husband had given me this precious gift and it’s been a gift that has only improved with age.
My husband’s reaction when handed his newborn son? He turned white as a sheet and almost passed out. Fortunately a nurse snatched Matt away in the nick of time!
Children play such a big part when it comes to love and commitment and marriage. And in this story, one special little baby plays a vital role in sparking a romance. I hope you enjoy Who’s Holding the Baby? It brought back a lot of fond memories.
Sincerely, Day Leclaire
WHO’S HOLDING THE BABY?
Day Leclaire
Harlequin Books
TORONTO * NEW YORK * LONDON AMSTERDAM * PARIS * SYDNEY * HAMBURG STOCKHOLM * ATHENS * TOKYO ‘MILAN MADRID * WARSAW * BUDAPEST * AUCKLAND
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
To Frank Matthew Smith … my one and only.
All my love — Mom.
ISBN 0-373-03338-9
WHO’S HOLDING THE BABY?
Copyright (c) 1994 by Day Totton Smith.
All rights reserved. Except for use In any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work In whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, Including xerography, photocopying and recording, or In any Information storage or retrieval system, Is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters In this book have no existence outside the Imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises B. V.
(r) and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks Indicated with (r) are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
Printed In U.S.A.
PROLOGUE
The Great Lie
Day 1 … and the games begin …
Grace Barnes stood in front of the door that read Luciano Salvatore, President, and took a deep breath. She could do it. Sure she could. All she had to do was knock. The man on the other side of the door would say, “Come in.” She’d open the door, step into the office and her deception would begin. After that, she only had to keep her job with this man for one year and she’d receive the financing necessary to start her own business. What could be easier?
She shoved her tinted glasses higher on the bridge of her nose, checked to be sure that not a single hair had escaped the prim knot at the nape of her neck and tugged at the mud brown skirt and sweater that threatened to engulf her. All right, she was ready. She lifted her fist to knock, but before she could, the door opened.
And that’s when she saw him for the first time. In that instant, she realized how badly she’d misjudged Dom Salvatore and how foolish she’d been not to give him credit for knowing his son. He’d warned her. Oh, he’d definitely warned her. Every assistant Luc hired fell in love with him and ended up making a mess of the work situation. But she’d thought Dom had exaggerated. He hadn’t.
Luc Salvatore was the most gorgeous man she’d ever set eyes on. High, aristocratic cheekbones and a square cleft chin complemented a striking masculine face. Thick, dark brown hair fell in careless waves across his forehead, emphasizing eyes that held her with almost hypnotic power. He filled the doorway, and unable to help herself, she took several hasty steps backward.
“Well, well . . . “ he said, folding his arms across his broad chest and leaning against the jamb. “Who have we here?” Although he didn’t have his father’s Italian accent, there was a similar underlying lilt to his deep, husky voice that brought to mind exotic climes and sultry nights.
“I’m … I’m Grace Barnes,” she said. To her horror, she sounded almost timorous. This would never do! What was wrong with her?
Slowly he straightened and walked toward her. She stood rigidly, not daring to speak, not daring to so much as move. For some inexplicable reason her heart pounded and it became a struggle to draw breath. Think of Baby Dream Toys, she told herself. Think of Mom planning for the day we’d open our own business.
Utilizing every ounce of control she possessed, she held out a hand. “I’m Grace Barnes,” she repeated in a cool, strong voice. “Your father hired me as your new assistant.” To her relief, her fingers were rock steady.
He took her hand and shook it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Barnes. Or is it Mrs.?” He released her right hand and lifted her left, studying the glittering diamond decorating her finger. “Miss Bames. Spoken for, but not yet taken. Our loss is . . . “ he tilted his head to one side and lifted an eyebrow ” . . . whose gain?”
She froze, staring up at him, staring into eyes that made her think of hot, liquid gold. She prayed her tinted lenses concealed her panic. She hadn’t anticipated the question and she should have. “Will … William,” she replied, picking the first name to pop into her head.
His mouth curved, his expression wickedly amused. “Our loss is Will-William’s gain. Come on into my office. Let’s get acquainted. Would you care for a drink? Coffee, tea? I even have freshly squeezed orange juice.” She followed him, trying to gather her composure. “Nothing, thank you,” she said, once again affecting a calm, collected guise.
“Sit down. I assume my father told you I was out of the country during the interview process. Explain why he chose you from all the other applicants.”
She didn’t
dare tell him the truth. Dom had specifically asked that she not mention they’d met through Salvatore’s annual young-entrepreneur contest, a contest designed to help young businesspeople start their own companies. She’d hoped to win first prize — a monetary award that would have enabled her to open Baby Dream Toys. Unfortunately, she’d placed third, a mixed blessing. Though that prize wasn’t sufficient to enable Grace to open her shop, it had, fortuitously, brought her to Dom’s attention and given her the opportunity to fulfill her dream … if in a rather roundabout manner.
“I gather from what your father said that you’ve had trouble keeping your assistants,” she finally replied. Which kept Dom from fully retiring, a situation he was desperate to correct. “He felt that wouldn’t be a problem with me.”
Luc’s eyes narrowed. “Really? And why is that?”
“Because I’m serious about my work.”
And because all she needed to do was keep her job as Luc’s assistant for one year — and unlike his previous assistants, maintain a strictly professional relationship —
and she’d be given the financing to start her own business. There wasn’t a chance she’d fall for Luc’s charms and sacrifice her dream. Not a chance.
Luc inclined his head. “Let’s hope so.” He leaned back in his chair. “Tell me more about yourself.”
Hesitantly, she complied, outlining the r6sum6 that rested on his desk. And all the time she spoke he watched her. He watched the way she talked and the movement of her hands as she made a point. He scanned her tightly controlled hair and her face, virtually obliterated by the huge tinted lenses. Even the prim manner in which she sat — straight-backed, ankles crossed — didn’t escape his attention.
She wondered if he saw through her disguise, realized her blond hair had been tinted drab brown with a temporary rinse, that she’d dressed in oversize, unattractive clothes, that her tinted glasses had nonprescription lenses. And what about the engagement ring? It rode her finger, an unfamiliar weight as well as an uncomfortable fabrication. She stirred uneasily. For a minister’s daughter, duplicity came hard.
But she wanted to attain her dream. She wanted it more than anything in the world. And this temporary deception would get it for her.
“So,” she concluded her recital, “I worked there for one year before being offered this job.” With nothing left to say, she fell silent.
He didn’t comment, simply completed his perusal, his odd golden eyes narrowed in thought, as though analyzing something that didn’t quite add up. Grace sat perfectly still, realizing that this was it — lose her cool now and she’d blow the chance of a lifetime. She regarded him steadily, knowing that if she were to be successful working for this man, she’d need to maintain a very careful facade.
At long last he nodded. “Welcome aboard, Miss Bames. As usual, Dad has shown excellent judgment. Let me show you to your desk.” He stood and led the way into the outer office. “Here’s your new home. Have a seat.”
He held her chair out for her with such a natural, unconscious ease that she knew it must come from long ingrained habit. “Thank you,” she murmured.
“Get familiar with the setting, take some time to explore the office area, have a cup of coffee or tea and report to me in an hour. Then we’ll go over office procedure, and I’ll explain how we do things around here and run through your duties. Though in all honesty there’s only one thing I expect you to do.”
She eyed him warily. “Which is?”
He grinned. “Whatever I say.”
She stared at him uncertainly. He was a difficult man to nail down. Serious one minute, teasing the next. Add to that looks and intelligence and one final trait that would be the most difficult to deal with — a wicked sense of humor — and she could understand why women fell like ninepins. Was it possible that his charm was an unconscious part of his personality, that he didn’t even realize all those women had lost their hearts to him? Time would tell.
Meanwhile, she could think of only one way to deal with him. ” ‘Whatever you say’ isn’t in my job description,” she informed him in her most businesslike voice. “You’ll have to be more specific than that, Mr. Salvatore.”
His eyes glittered with laughter. “I’ll see what I can do. Oh … And one more thing.”
He circled her desk, standing directly behind her. She felt his hand brush her spine, following the row of buttons to the nape of her neck. It was as though she’d been touched with a live wire. She started out of her chair, but he pressed her gently back into her seat.
“Hold still, cam mia,” he murmured. “Just for a moment.”
With a final glancing touch, he released her. Crossing to the front of the desk, he looked down, a crooked smile curving his mouth. She gazed up at him, once again captured by those strange golden eyes.
“What were you doing?” she demanded.
“I was doing you a favor. Your button had come unfastened.” His voice lowered confidingly. “And I thought you looked like the sort of woman who isn’t comfortable unless she’s all buttoned up.” Without another word, he returned to his office and gently closed the door.
And that, she realized with a sudden flash of intuition, would set the pattern for their relationship. She’d play the role of the stoic professional, and he’d be unable to resist pricking her composure, teasing a less-thanprofessional response from her.
Releasing her breath in a long sigh, Grace stared at the calendar centered on the desk. One year stretched before her in a string of endless days. Three hundred and sixtyfive days, to be precise. It seemed a lifetime. Without giving herself time to consider, she opened the desk drawer and shoved through the paraphernalia cluttered inside until she found a bright red marker. With great deliberation, and even greater satisfaction, she slashed an X through the first day of her year-long sentence.
And in that instant Grace realized just what she’d let herself in for… and just how long and difficult the next year would be.
CHAPTER ONE
The Great Lie
Day 337 and all is well until now …
“Morning, Miss Barnes.” The security guard greeted her with a cheerful grin. “Early to work, I see. Same as always, rain or shine.”
Grace leaned her dripping umbrella against his desk and stripped off her gloves. “More rain than shine, I’m afraid,” she observed, offering him a warm smile in return.
“It is blustery out there. Did you have a good weekend?”
“Splendid, thank you, Edward.” She tucked her gloves into the pocket of her raincoat. “And you?”
“Drove to the mountains with the wife and kids. The forecast called for snow and they don’t often get the chance to see it falling. All the Thanksgiving decorations were out.” He shook his head. “It was quite a sight.”
An onslaught of memories from past holiday celebrations with her family brought a wistful smile to Grace’s lips. The house had always been filled with friends and family and with the odors of freshly baked pies and breads. Her father would build a huge, roaring fire and her mother would festoon the mantel with gourds and Indian corn and her pilgrim candlestick holders.
Tears pricked her eyes. Lord, how she missed all that. “The first snowfall of the season,” she whispered longingly. “It must have been glorious.”
“You and your fiance ever do that? Drive to the mountains to see the snow?”
She shook her head, still lost in memories. “Never.”
“Aw, that’s a real shame.”
His expression was pitying and right away she realized she’d made a mistake, forgotten for a split second the role she had to play. “I’ll suggest a drive to the mountains for next weekend. I’m certain he’ll think it’s a terrific idea.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Really. We’ll go next weekend.”
She knew the security guard didn’t believe her. His brow creased and she could see him fishing around for something more to add, something that would help salvage her dignity. Which was
a laugh. After almost a full year of this masquerade, she had very little dignity left to salvage.
“Your fiance is a lucky man,” he said at last, “having such an … an … elegant woman as yourself for his brideto-be.”
She smiled wryly. He seemed intent on painting himself further and further into his corner. Grace decided it was time to put the poor man out of his misery.
“My fiance is a fine man,” she lied smoothly. Practice certainly did make perfect. “I’ve never met anyone more eager to please. He’ll be delighted to take up your suggestion of a trip to the mountains. Maybe we’ll rent a cabin and stay the whole weekend.”
“What’s this?” a deep, husky voice interrupted. “My Miss Barnes is going on a weekend assignation?”
Color mounted in Grace’s cheeks and she turned to greet Luc Salvatore, struggling to hang on to the cool, calm demeanor she’d perfected these past eleven months. “It was just a thought,” she stated, forced to look a long way up to meet his golden gaze.
He stepped closer, trapping her against Edward’s desk, an intent expression touching his handsome features. “Not a good one, if this blush is anything to go by.” He ran a slow finger along her cheekbone, his broad shoulders eclipsing her view of anything else. He’d cut them off from the rest of the world, and it made her nervous. Very nervous. “No need to jump into these things if you aren’t ready.”
She heard the concern in his voice and her brows drew together. She felt like a heel, worrying Edward and Luc with a conversation about an imaginary romantic interlude with an equally imaginary fiance. “Thanks for your advice,” she said discouragingly, hoping to end this particular discussion before she got in any deeper.
“You’re welcome.” Cupping her elbow, Luc escorted her toward the elevators. “Why all this sudden talk about a weekend trip with what’s-his-name?”