by Day Leclaire
“Luc . . . “ she forced herself to say. “This isn’t smart. We can’t do this.”
He laughed with genuine humor, the sound warm and beguiling. “Of course we can. I’ve wanted to do this for ages. Haven’t you?”
She shied away from his question, asking one of her own instead. “If you wanted to do this for so long, then why haven’t you?’
‘
He hesitated, then shrugged. “There were … roadblocks.”
As far as she knew, most of the roadblocks remained. He might suspect her engagement to William was an invention. But he had no real proof. And though he wasn’t aware that her agreement with Dom prevented a personal relationship with him, their business association should be more than enough to give him pause before starting a … a fling.
“And now there aren’t any roadblocks?” she questioned.
He eyed her closely. “You tell me.”
She didn’t dare mention William or Dom. “What about my job?” she asked instead, seizing on the one obstacle they could openly discuss.
“What about it? It’s not going anywhere.”
“What about after we . . . ? What happens to my job, then?”
He pulled back and frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”
She shook her head. “You think I haven’t heard about my predecessors? There must be a regular army of women who’ve left your employment because they fell in love with you.”
“For your information, I have never had an affair with anyone who worked for me.”
“Until now?”
The question seemed to hang between them. For a minute she didn’t think he’d respond. Then he nodded. “Until now,” he conceded roughly. He cupped her face and kissed her with a desperate urgency, as though he wanted to drive all thought, all resistance, from her mind. She almost allowed herself to give in to desire, to allow him to sweep aside all concerns but a selfish need to be loved.
In that instant, she saw her choices more clearly than she ever had before. She could break all the rules she held dear and have a few brief, stolen moments with Luc — and they’d be wonderful memories, memories she’d retain for the rest of her life. But then his interest would move on to the next woman and he’d break her heart. Or she could stop the relationship now, before it went any further.
In a few weeks, Dom would return and she’d leave Luc’s employment. Maybe she’d experience a few regrets — maybe more than a few. But she’d have Baby Dream Toys. More important, there was still a slim chance she could emerge from this with her heart intact. Which left her only one option.
Now all she had to do was find a way to distance Luc.
Not giving him time to realize what she intended, she ripped free of his embrace and stood. “Why are you doing this?” she demanded, driven by sheer selfpreservation to take the offensive. “I’m your employee, trying to help you out of an awkward situation. And you’re — you’re attacking me.”
He lifted an eyebrow, his expression amused. “What a vivid imagination you have. Do you really consider what I did attacking you?”
“Yes! No!” She’d never succeed at putting him off if she couldn’t do better than that. There was only one out available, and she’d darned well better take it. She lifted her chin and folded her arms across her chest. Using her most businesslike voice, she said, “If you want to continue having my help, you’ll keep our relationship professional. I don’t want you to make suggestive remarks or — or touch me. If you do, I’ll leave. Is that clear?” She held her breath, praying that this time he’d believe her, believe what was fast becoming more and more of a lie. To her distress she realized that, despite the choice she’d made, she didn’t want just a professional relationship with Luc. And far from finding his remarks suggestive, she found them romantic and all too appealing. She shied away from thinking about his touch, and the fact that she’d begun to crave each casual caress with a passion that frightened her. She had to remember Baby Dream Toys and her mother. She had to.
He sat up, his expression unreadable. “It’s clear.” He studied her for several minutes, as though trying to understand what had gone wrong, and then his voice softened. “There’s no need to be afraid, you know. We can take this slow. If I’m rushing you, you set the pace.” With a quick shake of her head, she said, “I’m not interested in setting any pace.”
“Except a full retreat?” Irony colored his words. “Shall I go pack?”
He held up his hands. “You win. If you don’t want to see where this might lead, I won’t push it.”
“Thank you.” There wasn’t anything left to be said. Without another word, she headed from the room.
“Grace?”
She hesitated, but didn’t turn around, waiting for him to say what he had to so she could finally escape. * ‘What is it, Luc?”
“I don’t want to lose you. So I won’t touch you again, if that’s your preference.”
“Thank you,” she said again.
“Don’t thank me. It’s not what I’d do if the choice were mine. If you were honest with yourself, you’d admit it isn’t really what you want, either.” His voice held a grating quality she’d never heard before. “And one more thing.”
“Yes?” she whispered.
“Take my bed.”
She turned around at that. “No! That’s — that’s not necessary.”
Slowly he rose from the couch and she realized to her dismay that a very large, frustrated man stood before her. “Take my bed,” he repeated.
“Fine.” She swallowed nervously, backing from the room. “I’ll take your bed.”
He stalked after her. “And for your information, bellissimamia, just so there isn’t any doubt in your mind … All through that passionate little speech your eyes were as cloudy as I’ve ever seen them. Run away for now, but don’t leave thinking I believed a word you said. You do want me. And soon, very soon, you’ll admit it to yourself … and to me.”
She didn’t dare say another word. Instead, she turned on her heels and ran.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Great Lie
Day 339 and trouble is at the door …
Locking herself in Luc’s room did nothing to make Grace feel safe. Standing by the bed, she wondered how in the world she could be expected to sleep here. She didn’t even have her pajamas. Dam him! She didn’t even have a toothbrush. Nor did she have any intention of going after the forgotten items.
As though in answer to her silent raging, a brief knock sounded at the door. It could only be Luc. As she stood motionless, debating whether or not to open it, the knob turned. She heard his muffled laugh as he realized she’d locked him out.
“If you want your nightgown, it’s here,” he informed her through the wooden panel. “Feel free to use my toothbrush. Good night, Grace. Pleasant dreams.”
She waited several minutes before opening the door. Sure enough, her gown and robe lay neatly folded on the rug. Luc was nowhere in sight. She crossed to his dresser and rummaged through drawers until she found a pair of pajamas. Returning to the hallway, she swapped nightclothes and slammed the door shut, locking it once again. As far as a toothbrush was concerned … use his? Not likely. It was bad enough that she had to use his bed.
Stripping off her dress, she tossed it across a chair and glared at the pool of soft green silk. In her mind’s eye she saw Luc’s hand against the pale dress as he cupped her breast, his dark hair contrasting with her white skin as he bent to … She struggled to breathe normally. Maybe she wouldn’t wear the dress for Christmas, after all. Maybe she wouldn’t wear it ever again.
A few minutes later she was ready for bed, her teeth brushed with her finger and a bit of toothpaste. She wondered if she’d get any sleep. Doubtful, considering how everything in the room served to remind her of Luc — and the passion they’d shared … almost shared. It had to be Luc’s not-so-subtle way of tormenting her.
The worst part came when she slipped between his sheets and rested her head on h
is pillow. His spicy scent clung to the pillowcase, filling her lungs with every breath and arousing emotions she’d sooner forget. She clenched her fists. He’d done this on purpose. He wanted to drive her insane. Well, it wouldn’t work.
Three hours later, and on the verge of true madness, she started to drift off to sleep. An urgent banging put paid to that. Totally disoriented, it took her several seconds to realize the pounding came not from outside her bedroom but from outside the apartment. Grabbing her robe, she thrust her arms into it as she dashed for the door. For endless moments she fumbled with the lock and by the time she’d reached the hallway, Luc raced just ahead of her. Wearing the pajama bottoms she’d left out for him, he opened the front door, running a hand through his hair.
“What —” he began.
To Grace’s horror, she saw a pair of policemen standing there, Mrs. Bumgartle right behind them, a selfrighteous expression on her face.
“Arrest him,” Mrs. Bumgartle demanded, pointing an accusing finger at Luc. “Arrest them both! Those … those … those babynappers! “
For a long moment, no one moved. Then Luc asked, “What’s the problem, Officer?”
“Mr. Salvatore? I’m Officer Hatcher. We met two days ago at your office.”
“I remember,” Luc replied evenly. “Is there a problem?”
“Babynapper!” Mrs. Bumgartle proclaimed from behind the policeman’s broad shoulders. “He said the baby was his niece — that she was his brother’s child. But all his brothers visited tonight and she wasn’t theirs. And he —” she pointed a finger at Luc with dramatic emphasis ” — warned them that they couldn’t afford to have the police called in again.”
Officer Hatcher glanced from Luc to a clearly nervous Grace. “Perhaps I better come in and straighten this out. Carl,” he addressed his partner, “escort Mrs. Bumgartle to her apartment and take a statement.”
After a momentary hesitation, Luc stepped back to allow the policeman access. Though he didn’t say anything, Grace saw the muscle leaping in his jaw and the dark, furious glitter of his eyes. Why, oh why, she wondered with a sinking heart, did it have to be Hatcher who responded to the call?
“There’s nothing to straighten out,” Luc insisted, leading the way to the living room. “I explained before that we were baby-sitting my niece and that’s precisely what we’re doing.”
Hatcher pulled a notepad out of his pocket and flipped through the pages. “According to my notes, you said you were baby-sitting for a few hours. It’s now been almost two days. Would you care to explain the discrepancy?”
Luc glanced briefly at Grace, then said, “I believe I mentioned that my sister-in-law’s mother is ill. My brother and his wife were going to fly to Italy with the baby, but decided at the last minute to leave Toni with us.” He caught Grace’s hand in his and pulled her close. “Is that a problem?”
Officer Hatcher began adding to his notes. “You have something from the parents stating this?”
“No,” Luc admitted. “I didn’t realize that would be necessary.”
The policeman’s gaze sharpened. “A medical release form? A birth certificate? Anything?”
Luc shook his head. “They should be back soon.” Hatcher glanced at his notes again and froze. “How old is your niece, Mr. Salvatore? What’s her birthdate?”
Grace started, staring up at Luc in a panic. His arm tightened around her, crushing her to his side. “She’s three months,” Luc said stiffly. “I’m … I’m not sure of the exact date of her birth.”
“And when did her sex change from male to female?” Hatcher asked with unmistakable sarcasm. He had them and he knew it.
Luc swore beneath his breath.
“You didn’t know she was a girl, did you?” The patrolman’s mouth twisted in a parody of a smile. “Is she even your niece?”
“I didn’t know she was a girl until we changed her diaper,” Luc was forced to concede. “Carina called her Toni, and since Salvatores have a history of producing boys, I assumed . . . “ He shrugged, then stated forcefully, “But she is my niece.”
Officer Hatcher checked his notes again. “The baby’s name is Antonia Donati … Salvatore? Or was that a lie, too?”
Luc closed his eyes, releasing a long, drawn-out sigh. “Carina and my brother aren’t married. Yet. I expect that to change very soon.”
“Let me get this straight.” The officer’s words fell, cold and hard as chipped ice. “You said the parents left the baby in your care and would be back in a few hours. That was a he. You said the child was your nephew. That was a lie. And you said the baby’s parents were married. Another he. You don’t have any legal authority to care for this baby whatsoever, do you?”
Luc’s fists clenched at his sides. “Look. Carina, the baby’s mother, left Toni with my brother because of a family emergency. That much is true. And she needed someone to care for Toni during her absence. That is also the truth. Since my brother Pietro is the baby’s father, he was the natural choice. The only problem was, Pietro didn’t know about Toni until Carina arrived at my office.”
Understanding dawned. “Which explains the argument in the lobby.”
“Yes. My brother went after Carina to try and stop her. Thanks to your intervention, he wasn’t in time.” Grace winced. “Luc, it won’t help to antagonize him,” she murmured.
“I don’t care,” he snapped. “If the police hadn’t been so quick to let Carina go, we wouldn’t be in our current predicament. Not that it matters. When Pietro does catch up with her, they’ll marry and return for Toni. Until then, my fiancee and I are taking care of the baby. She’s perfectly safe and in good hands.”
“That’s not for me to decide.”
Luc stiffened. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Easy,” Grace murmured, laying a restraining hand on Luc’s arm.
“No!” He shook free of her hold. “I want to know what he means.”
Hatcher eyed them sternly. “I mean that what happens to the baby is up to social services, not me. Legally, she’s been abandoned.”
“No, she hasn’t!” Luc bit out. “The mother left her child with the father.”
“Mr. Salvatore, I don’t intend to argue with you about this. I’m taking the baby into custody. If you resist, I’ll arrest you.”
Before Luc could respond, Grace asked, “What will happen to Toni?”
Hatcher explained while writing. “The law requires we have her transported by ambulance to the local hospital. She’ll be examined there and kept overnight at the childprotection center. In the morning they’ll put her in a temporary foster home while an emergency-response worker investigates the case.” He spoke by rote, his demeanor cool and dispassionate, repeating an explanation he’d obviously given before.
“How do we get her back?” Grace questioned.
He hesitated, glancing up. For the first time, his guard relaxed slightly. “To be honest, I’m not sure you can. The best chance you have is to get in touch with the legal guardian — presumably the mother — and obtain a signed custody statement and a medical-permission slip. A copy of the birth certificate wouldn’t hurt, either.”
Grace gazed at Luc. “Can we do that?” she whispered.
He gave a brief nod. “Pietro can fax it to us.”
“Even then, it’s questionable whether the authorities will release her to you. Though —” Hatcher hesitated, eyeing Grace ” — a permanent female presence in the home could possibly tip the scales in your favor.” He snapped his notepad closed and pocketed it. “Tabs me to the baby.”
There was nothing they could do after that. Luc went into the spare bedroom and packed a diaper bag with several days’ worth of clothes, diapers and baby paraphernalia. Fighting back tears, Grace carefully bundled up Toni for the trip into the frigid night air. The entire time, Officer Hatcher stood in the doorway, watching their every move.
* ‘Wait.’
‘ She stopped Luc before he could close the diaper bag. Handing him the baby,
she grabbed a floppyeared rabbit from the pet net and thrust it in among the clothes he’d packed. “What about a bottle and a spare can of formula?” she asked the policeman.
“Can’t hurt.”
“It’ll only take a minute.” She glanced at Luc. He held Toni, his face expressionless, but she could sense his impotent fury. “Officer Hatcher, would you mind helping me?” She sent Hatcher a pleading look, hoping against hope that he’d give Luc the few moments of privacy he needed to say goodbye to Toni.
After a brief hesitation, the policeman nodded. “Two minutes. No more.”
Chattering nonsense while she prepared a bottle, Grace prayed that Luc wouldn’t do anything foolish. To her relief, he appeared in the doorway just as she’d finished mixing the formula. Without a word, he handed the officer the baby and the diaper bag.
“Here’s my business card,” Luc said. “My home phone number’s on the back. I’ll expect the emergency-
response worker’s call first thing in the morning.” It wasn’t a request.
Hatcher inclined his head. “I suggest you get those papers together and fast. You haven’t a prayer otherwise.”
And with that he left, Toni gently cradled in his arms.
The minute the door closed behind him, Luc slammed his fist against the wall, knocking a hole in the plaster. Grace came up behind, not sure approaching him at this time was the wisest course of action. “It’s all right,” she murmured. “We’ll get her back.”
He turned on her, his eyes wild with fury, dark color streaking across his angled cheekbones. “I won’t let it happen again, Grace. I won’t let them split up my family again.”
Again. She stared at him in alarm. “What do you mean, again?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he headed for the guest room, forcing her to run to keep up with him. “Luc?”