Salvatore 01 - Who's Holding the Baby

by Day Leclaire

  To her relief, Toni came to the rescue. Reacting to the heightened emotions, her face screwed into a frown and she began to cry. “Oh, dear,” Grace said, “I think we’d better get busy with that bottle.”

  “Please wait.” For a long minute Dom stared at Toni, uncertainty clouding his face. Grace could see his quandary, his delight at the possibility of a grandchild warring with his outrage at the circumstances behind that grandchild’s conception. Then his hands inched out and he took the wailing baby into his arms. He jiggled Toni gently and when she stopped crying, he beamed. “And who have we here?”

  “This is your granddaughter, Antonia,” Grace said simply.

  A look of wonder dawned on his face. “A granddaughter,” he murmured in astonishment. “But.. .this is marvelous. How old is she?”

  Grace’s gaze slipped away from his. “Three months.” He gaped at Grace. “Three . . . “ He burst into volatile Italian, stabbing the air with his free hand. She didn’t understand a single word he spoke, but she knew exactly what he said. In order for her to have given birth to Toni, she would have had to tumble into Luc’s bed her first day on the job. At long last, he drew breath. “Three monthsI” he exclaimed.

  What possible explanation could she give that would appease him? “The disguise didn’t work,” she said, her face burning with humiliation.

  “This I have figured out for myself!”

  To her relief, Toni once again came to her rescue. Wriggling in her grandfather’s arms she began to fuss. “She’s hungry,” Grace said. “I need to feed her.” Leading the way into the kitchen, she popped a bottle into the microwave. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “That would be very kind of you.” He sat down at the kitchen table, holding Toni on his lap. “Tell me, Grace. What happened?”

  She cleared her throat, pouring the fragrant brew into a cup. “Well … It’s a long story.” To her relief, the microwave beeped, providing her with a few extra seconds to gather her thoughts. “Would you like to give Toni her bottle?”

  “I’d be honored.” He cradled his granddaughter in the crook of his arm and Toni stared up at him with wide, curious eyes. Dom offered her the nipple and without hesitation she took it, wrapping her tiny fingers around Dom’s and sucking contentedly. He glanced at Grace with a bittersweet smile. “She is the image of my own Anna. Thank you for naming her after her grandmother. It touches me deeply.”

  “She’s a good baby,” Grace said gently, unwilling to take credit for something that had nothing to do with her.

  “A beautiful baby. You have done a wonderful job, my dear.” Then he fixed her with a stem gaze. “And now, you will tell me your story, please. You say the disguise did not work? Not even for a single day?”

  “Not really.” She poured a second cup of coffee and took a sip. “Luc’s not an easy man to fool.”

  Dom clicked his tongue. “But a girl with such an impeccable background. Could you not resist him?”

  “He’s hard to resist,” she confessed.

  “But still . . . “ He seemed to be searching for a reasonable explanation. “I thought starting your own business was important to you. I thought that, if nothing else, such an agreement would keep you from my son’s arms.” He shook his head and released a deep, heartfelt sigh. “You must love Luciano very much, to give up your dream.”

  To her dismay, tears welled in her eyes. “Starting Baby Dream Toys meant more to me than anything. I wanted to keep our agreement. I really did. Please believe that I tried. I wore the disguise and pretended to be engaged. But, Luc … He … I . . . “ Her throat closed over and helplessly, she bowed her head.

  “I am sorry, my dear. I did not mean to upset you.” He stroked Toni’s head with a gentle hand. Then, he looked up, pinning her with a reluctant, though stem gaze. “I must tell you I am very disappointed in you both. It is my deepest hope that you and Luc have taken proper responsibility for your unthinking actions. As much as this grandchild means to me, as much as my son means to me, I would throw you out of the family if I thought you had not.” He paused, waiting for her response.

  Grace swallowed, realizing she was treading on very shaky ground. “You’d throw us out of the family if we hadn’t … what?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Married, of course! You are wed, yes?”

  A footstep sounded behind her. And then, “Of course, we’re married, Dad,” Luc announced from the doorway.

  Grace spun around, her eyes widening in horror. Without any question, he’d overheard every word of their conversation. And he was furious. His eyes glittered with harsh gold lights and he stalked into the kitchen, reminding her of an angry panther she’d once seen pacing his cage at the zoo, roaring his frustration to the heavens. She tensed, waiting for Luc’s roar.

  “What are you doing here, Dad?” To her surprise, he spoke in a deceptively mild voice. But one glimpse of his set features warned her that, though he wouldn’t lose his temper in front of his father, he wouldn’t be so restrained when he got her alone. “I thought we agreed to meet at the office.”

  “So we did,” Dom agreed, not seeming to notice anything amiss. He set the bottle on the table and lifted Toni to his shoulder, patting her back. “It occurred to me we might drive into work together.” He fixed his calm, dark gaze on Luc. “You forgot to tell me something yesterday, yes?”

  Luc shrugged, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “As I recall, I did mention I had a blonde and brunette hiding in my bedroom.”

  “I thought you made a joke,” Dom dismissed contemptuously. “You know this. Why did you not tell me the truth? You marry, have a child, and do not bother to tell your own father?” He added something in Italian, hurt clear in his lilting voice.

  Luc hesitated, then asked, “If I had told you, what would you have done?”

  “I would have come home,” came the prompt response.

  “There’s your answer. The doctors wanted you to retire. You know you wouldn’t have, if you’d returned early from Italy.”

  “Bah! Doctors. What do they know? I am strong as a norse.”

  “A sixty-five-year-old horse with a heart condition.” Dom stirred uncomfortably. “I wish to talk about Grace and this situation we now find ourselves in, not about my health. You uncovered the truth about her, I am right?”

  Luc leaned back against the counter and sipped his coffee. For a split second his gaze locked with hers. She froze, held in place by the icy fury she read there. “Uncovered the truth about her disguise and the fake engagement? Yes. I uncovered that much.” But not about his father’s bribe. Grace caught the omission. Not about his starting her up in business.

  And Luc’s expression warned he wouldn’t easily forgive that exclusion.

  Betraying his nervousness, Dom ran a hand along his jaw. “You … ah … you are not upset with me?”

  “Should I be?”

  Dom stiffened. “Is this why you did not tell me about Antonia? You were angered that we deceived you?” Luc’s expression softened. “No, Papa. I wouldn’t do that. I’ve explained why I didn’t notify you. You needed to get away from Salvatore Enterprises. This past year has allowed you time to recuperate and me time to take control of the business.”

  “Then, it was good I hired Grace. She has helped you focus on your work.”

  Grace winced, waiting for Luc’s tenuous control of his temper finally to snap. “You didn’t need to involve someone else,” Luc bit out, slamming his coffee mug to the counter. “You should have trusted me to take care of the work situation without interfering.”

  “Perhaps.” Dom shrugged, not in the least intimidated by his son’s wrath. “But I wished to insure you would have a full year to concentrate on work and not be subjected to … irresistible temptations.” He glanced at Grace and smiled apologetically. “This will not be a problem anymore, eh? Once a Salvatore falls in love and marries, it is for life. The eyes, they become blind to every other woman.”

  It was all Grace could do not to weep
. How she wanted that to be true. But as much as she might wish it otherwise, Luc hadn’t fallen in love with her, merely in lust. And that minor detail ensured a broken heart at the end of their affair. Assuming they even had an affair. In the meantime, she couldn’t continue to stand there quietly as though condoning any further lies. Rinsing her coffee cup at the sink, she crossed to where Dom sat.

  “Would you excuse us?” she murmured, scooping Toni into her arms. “I think it’s time we got dressed.” Dom stood. “I am happy I returned for Thanksgiving,” he said, enfolding her in a tender embrace and kissing her cheeks. “I have come home to find much to be grateful for.”

  Unable to think of a single response, Grace offered a watery smile. Turning to leave the room, she shot Luc a swift, beseeching look, praying he’d understand her silent plea. Perhaps agreeing to Dom’s plan had been wrong, but it had been the offer of a lifetime — too good to refuse. Would Luc understand that? Would he at least be willing to listen to her explanation?

  Twenty minutes later Grace returned with Toni, in time to bid Dom farewell. She stood next to Luc and smiled calmly, striving to appear the perfect wife. The minute his father disappeared down the hallway, Luc turned on her.

  “Every damned word out of your mouth has been a he, hasn’t it?” he snarled, kicking the door shut. It bounced back ajar, but he ignored it, stalking after her.

  “Not every word.” She backed toward the living room, clutching Toni to her breast like a shield. Realizing she couldn’t continue to hide behind a baby, she spread a blanket on the floor and set Toni on it. Then she turned to face Luc. “Besides,” she said, refusing to be intimidated by his fury. “What about all your lies?”

  “I lied to protect the baby,” he was quick to defend. “They were necessary lies.”

  She lifted her chin. “They’re still lies. As far as protecting the baby … Haven’t I done everything possible to help you since Toni arrived? Haven’t I lied to the police and to the social-service people, in order to cover for Pietro and Carina? And for what? For you! What more do you want from me? I even lied to your father. And that cost me the chance to start my own business.”

  Her words brought home the cold, hard facts and she stared at him with anguished eyes, the full extent of her predicament finally sinking in. “My own business,” she whispered. To her horror, she burst into tears. She looked around helplessly, trying to remember where the tissues were kept.

  “Here.”

  He held out a handkerchief and she took it gratefully, struggling to stem the flood of tears. “I’m sorry,” she managed to say. “It must be the stress.”

  Luc thrust his hands into his trouser pockets, a muscle leaping in his jaw. “Explain it to me. The deal you had with Dad.”

  She waved the damp hanky. “You already know most of it.”

  He paced in front of her. “I sure as hell didn’t know you were in cahoots with my father.”

  “That’s the only fact you didn’t have. You knew about the disguise, the fake engagement . . . “

  He nailed her with a disbelieving look. “And my father put you up to it?”

  Reluctantly, she nodded. “He seemed to think it was the only way he could retire. All your employees kept falling in love with you and making a mess of the office situation. He thought I’d be different.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “He thought I’d be more levelheaded, that with the disguise and the engagement ring, you’d keep your distance — and because of his offer, I’d keep mine.”

  “Ah, yes. The offer.” A cynical note colored his words. “A business of your own, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes,” she confirmed. “When we met during the young-entrepreneur’s contest, Dom realized I was desperate to open my own store and offered a deal. If I’d work for you for one year — keep our relationship strictly professional, no personal involvement — he’d finance Baby Dream Toys.”

  “Desperate?” He seized on the word, his eyes narrowing. “Why were you so desperate to start your own business?”

  The question hung between them. “Because of my mother,” she said at last.

  He stilled, watching her closely. “Your mother?” Grace bowed her head. “We were going to start the business together. We dreamed about it, planned it. She used to make the most beautiful stuffed animals. She’d call them her ‘baby dreams.’ That’s where the name for the store came from.”

  “What happened, cara?” he asked gently.

  “She died right before the contest.” Grace’s voice broke and she buried her hands in her face. “I wanted to open the store so much, to name it in her honor. It was wrong to deceive you, I know that. But at the time … all I could think of . . . “ She shook her head, fighting for control.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded. “When all the other deceptions were uncovered, why didn’t you come clean? Didn’t you think I’d understand?”

  She crumpled his handkerchief in her fist. “You had all these wonderful, generous excuses for why I’d deceived you. But they weren’t true. I knew when you found out my motivation was greed, you’d hate me. I’m sorry,” she said, choking on the words.

  He groaned, the sound low and rough. “Cara, don’t. Don’t cry. Of course I don’t hate you.” Crossing to her side, he swept her into his arms. Gently, he pushed her hair from her face and forced her to look at him. “Dad was right about one thing. If it hadn’t been for that damned engagement ring, I wouldn’t have been able to keep my hands off you.”

  He kissed her with an urgency she couldn’t mistake, sweeping her into a firestorm of desperate need. She didn’t resist. The thought never entered her mind. She loved Luc and she wanted him. If all he could give her were these few minutes, she’d seize them with both hands. “Luc, please . . . “ she whispered.

  He studied her expression intently. “Are you sure?” he asked. At her nod, he eased back and dropped his suit jacket to the floor. Next came his tie. Yanking the knot loose, he stripped off the red silk and tossed it to one side. It ribboned through the air, catching on a lampshade.

  Eager to help, Grace applied herself to the buttons of his shirt, wanting to feel the hair-roughened skin beneath her fingers. “You never told me why you came back this morning,” she said, dropping a string of kisses along his jaw. A minute later the shirt winged through the air, joining his jacket on the floor.

  “Distracted.Forgot my damned briefcase.”

  He unfastened his belt and whipped it out of the loops. At the harsh sound of his zipper, Grace froze. She stared at Luc, seeing the passion that marked his high-boned face. His breathing was fast and irregular, his chest rising and falling as if he’d just run a marathon. Sensing her hesitation, he didn’t touch her, simply waited, giving her the opportunity to retreat.

  Never had she thought to find herself in such a position, where she’d feel such an urgent need for a man, be filled with such an all-consuming love, be so ready to forsake the teachings of a lifetime. And yet that was precisely what she intended to do. All doubts gone, she reached out and stroked the taut, muscular ridges of his chest, exploring at will from shoulder to abdomen. As her hand drifted lower, she hesitated, reluctant to traverse into uncharted territory.

  “Your turn,” he muttered, grasping the bottom of her sweater and pulling it over her head.

  She emerged breathless and flustered. But the minute she looked at Luc, the minute she saw the intense yearning flare to life in his golden eyes, all doubt vanished. His hands slipped beneath the straps of her bra and he slid the narrow bands from her shoulders. When he released the hooks, the scrap of lace joined his tie on the lampshade.

  For a long time they stood without touching, absorbed in a visual examination. Then Luc reached out and gently cupped her breasts and Grace’s knees buck-

  led. He caught her in his arms and kissed her — fast, hot, desperate kisses. Shedding his trousers, he peeled off her stretch pants with a speed that left her gasping.

  “Maybe we
should go to the bedroom,” Grace suggested, tumbling back into his arms.

  “The bedroom.Right.” He toppled her onto the couch and followed her down. “Too far.”

  His mouth closed over hers again and his hands began a thorough, intimate exploration, each delicious caress driving her closer and closer to some sweet crisis, the intense pleasure almost painful.

  “Luc,” she said with a gasp, squeezing her eyes closed. “I can’t take much more.”

  “Grace?”

  Luc’s voice seemed to float to her from a long distance. “What, Luc?”

  He nuzzled her cheek. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “I thought you said Grace.”

  “Only before meals.”

  “I’m too hungry to eat,” she muttered, winding her arms around his waist and pressing her mouth to the strong line of his neck.

  “Grace?”

  She frowned, slowly opening her eyes. “What?”

  Luc nibbled her lips. “What?”

  “I mean, what do you want?”

  He chuckled, the sound low and intimate. “You know what I want.”

  “No. I mean, why did you call my name?”

  He pulled back slightly. “I told you. I didn’t.”

  “Grace?”

  They both stiffened, staring at each other in dawning horror. “Get off me, quick!” she whispered urgently, shoving at his chest.

  Luc didn’t move. “What —”

  “Grace!” An appalled masculine voice spoke from the doorway to the living room.

  “Oh, criminey!” No longer trying to escape, she buried her head in Luc’s chest, attempting to disappear behind his broad shoulders.

  Luc glanced down at her, then over his shoulder at the man and woman hovering just inside the living room. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded. “And what are you doing in my apartment?”

  “Dear Lord!” The man continued to stare in shock. “I’m … I’m Reverend —”