Emma looked from his sleek black car to her sturdy orange sedan—ancient and built like a tank. “I should follow you. Then I’ll have my car and—”
“It would be better if you left your car here,” he said smoothly. “I’ve got a second vehicle at home that you can use to your heart’s content.”
Her stomach clenched uncomfortably, and she kept the rest of her suggestion to herself: that she could fit Chandler’s bassinet easily into her back seat. He probably figured her old car was too much of an eyesore for the rarefied atmosphere of his neighborhood.
Well, Emma Valentine, you’ve made your bed… She could almost hear her mother’s voice.
“I’ve already moved Chandler’s seat into the back seat of my car. Can you get him into it, or would you like me to?”
“I will.” She didn’t look at him as he placed his hand on the top of the open door, waiting. But she couldn’t help noticing the sprinkling of dark hair on burnished skin, taut tendons and strong, well-groomed hands.
Reaching into the narrow rear of his car was awkward, but she managed to get Chandler into the seat and fasten the harness. He slept through the whole process, but Emma felt positively out of breath by the time she straightened.
Kyle caught her elbow when she swayed. “You okay?”
She nodded and slid herself into the passenger side. A sinfully soft leather seat cradled her like loving arms. She gathered in the trailing hem of her ankle-length broomstick skirt, and Kyle pushed the door closed before heading up the steps again. She heard the slap of her wooden screen door and in moments he reappeared with the diaper bag.
He strode around to the driver’s side and set the bag in the back next to Chandler, then slid behind the wheel with an ease Emma couldn’t help but envy.
The engine came to life with a low throaty growl, and he backed away from the garage, her apartment, her car and her hold on reality.
She bit her lip, turning her eyes away from the sight. It was a gray dawn, and Penny’s house was still dark. She hadn’t even told her what she was doing. She’d have to call her. Make some type of explanation.
Kyle shifted gears, and when his hand inadvertently brushed her thigh, Emma jerked. He glanced at her without comment as he drove out of the alley onto the morning-quiet street.
Emma swallowed, the silence in the car weighing her down. She stared out the side window as they passed the diner and headed east. She wasn’t surprised. Naturally a man like Kyle would have his home in the wealthier section of town. Eastridge. She’d once had hazy dreams of living in one of the sparkling new homes with a three-car garage and a pool out back. Living in one of the homes as Jeremy’s wife.
They drove through the exclusive area. Passed the discreet sign that directed individuals to the outstanding Benderhoff facility. She stifled a sigh and looked over her shoulder at Chandler.
“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Kyle said.
Emma nodded, and surreptitiously rubbed her palms down her thighs.
“Baxter will probably have breakfast waiting. I’ve got to go to the airport for a while. A few hours. But then I’ll come home and we can do some shopping.”
Who was Baxter? “Shopping?”
“For the nursery. I had a decorator in for most of the house.” He turned down an unmarked road, taking them into the rising sun.
Emma looked out the back window at the residential area they’d left behind.
“Something wrong?”
“No. I…well, I assumed you lived in Eastridge,” she admitted.
He shook his head and kept driving. And Emma, who had lived in Buttonwood for several years, realized she didn’t have a clue where they were. The paved road, only wide enough to accommodate two passing cars, curved and climbed. Then they rounded a sharp outcropping of rocks and shot down again, straight toward a spectacular house that seemed an actual part of the ridge that overlooked Buttonwood.
Kyle pulled up into a drive that was narrow simply because two-thirds of it was being excavated. He parked in front of the house before turning to look at Emma. He hoped she liked it. Only because he wanted her to be comfortable here, he rapidly assured himself. But she was facing out the side window and he couldn’t see her reaction, except for the fingertips she drummed silently against her thigh, which was draped with her purple-and-pink skirt. “I realize it’s not Eastridge, but do you think it’ll do?”
Her fingers went still and she looked at him. “It’s big.” Then her eyes widened slightly and her cheeks colored. “And…lovely.”
He smiled faintly. “Did you expect a circus tent or something?”
“No. No, of course not.” Her lips pressed together for a moment. “Who is Baxter?”
“Baxter?” Kyle looked beyond Emma toward the house. How to describe the man. His conscience? His friend? “My housekeeper,” he said after a moment. “But he’d say butler. He’ll be crazy about Chandler. You’ll probably see more of him than me, actually.”
Which didn’t seem to reassure her any, Kyle thought, noticing the way her fingers started drumming again. “I’m sure he heard us drive up and is probably setting breakfast on the table as we speak.” He climbed out of the car and went around to open her door, helping her from the low-slung vehicle. He should have brought the Land Rover. He’d thought it about a dozen times since he’d parked outside her garage apartment.
This family stuff would take some adjusting.
Before she could contort herself into the narrow space to reach the car seat, Kyle reached past her and handed her the diaper bag, then scooped out the baby. He straightened, automatically situating the baby in one arm. Then he closed Emma’s car door and settled his free hand at the small of her back, his fingertips tingling at the contact with her soft shirt.
He focused on the white-haired man who’d opened the front door and waited on the porch. Kyle didn’t need to look at Baxter’s disapproving gaze to know the man didn’t like what he, Kyle, was doing. Not with the pretend-family bit, and certainly not with his determination to acquire CCS.
Ignoring Baxter for the moment, he slid the diaper bag from Emma’s shoulder and touched her back again, which earned him another wide-eyed look. “Relax. We’re not gonna stuff you in an oven and eat you.”
“I am relaxed.”
He raised a brow, disbelieving. “Let’s go inside.” He nudged her forward along the narrow stone walkway. It was scheduled to be widened and graded within the next few weeks.
“Bax, this is Emma Valentine and Chandler. Emma, Baxter. Anything you need, he’s the man.” Kyle eyed him as they approached.
Baxter turned up his nose at Kyle and focused, instead, on the baby in his arms. “There’s a handsome boy, with a good solid name. May I?” He lifted Chandler away from Kyle at Emma’s nod. He brought his wrinkled aristocratic-looking face close to the baby and cooed.
Kyle caught Emma’s eye. “Told you so,” he murmured.
“Breakfast is on the patio, sir. Miss Emma.” Baxter turned and headed back into the house, still cooing to the baby.
“Does he have grandchildren?”
Kyle shook his head. “No family.” Except him. “I think the man was a nanny in a past life, though. Bax, who won’t start the day without a starched shirt, tie and crisp black suit, sees a person under two feet tall and goes into coochy-coo mode.” The housekeeper also made no bones about his belief that Kyle was throwing away the best years of his life by concentrating so exclusively on his business.
Emma smiled, but she was obviously uneasy. He could see it in her eyes, as well as the arms she’d crossed tightly across her chest.
“If you don’t want Bax to take the baby, you can tell him so,” Kyle said. “He’ll understand.”
She uncrossed her arms, only to twist her fingers together. “No, it’s okay.”
“For a few minutes, anyway,” he guessed.
She smiled, a little more easily. “For a few minutes.”
“Just like my sister. She didn’t want t
o let her baby out of her sight, either. Come on. Breakfast will be getting cold.”
Emma swallowed and stepped into the foyer, then realized her mouth had dropped open and quickly snapped it shut.
The interior of the house wasn’t at all like the exterior.
“What do you think?”
He’d had a decorator, she reminded herself. “The windows are fabulous,” she said truthfully. They lined the wall ahead of her, giving a beautiful view of Buttonwood beyond the expansive gardens outside the windows.
“I liked them,” Kyle said behind her. “Looking out and seeing sky.”
Which didn’t seem to fit with the coldly beautiful marble, glass and miles of white furnishings any more than those very furnishings fit the nature-blending exterior of the house.
“You mentioned a nursery?” Lord, she hoped the nursery was an empty undecorated room. She could bring some bright cheerful pillows from home. Pin up a quilt on the wall. Something.
“It’s upstairs. But let’s eat first.”
Emma nibbled the inside of her lip, but nodded. She followed him through the wintry house and breathed a sigh of relief when she stepped through French doors that opened onto the garden.
Out there it truly was lovely. Bushes and riotous flowers and lush green grass. Right in the middle of the garden was a lovely glass and verdigris table with matching chairs. The fresh fruit, juices and covered silver serving dishes set on the table looked like something out of a gourmet magazine. Which, of course, made her stomach rumble.
She pressed her palm to her waist, hoping Kyle hadn’t heard the distinctive sound. But she suspected by the deepening corner of his mouth that he had.
He pulled out one of the iron chairs for her, then sat across from her, his back to the sharp drop-off. She realized there was an iron fence hidden amid the thick hedges. Beyond that, Buttonwood spread out like a jewel.
She closed her eyes and breathed in the fresh morning air, the flowers, the green. They’d no sooner seated themselves, though, when Baxter appeared with a cushioned straight-back chair he insisted Emma use.
She switched from the iron chair to the new one, which was truly comfortable. Then she forgot about the view and the chairs because Kyle sat across from her. Impossibly compelling. Indolent and urbane. Smooth and quietly powerful.
He unsettled her. Pure and simple.
So she focused on Baxter, who’d replaced his severe black suit coat for a baby sling, which held her son cozily against his chest. And Chandler was obviously content as a snug bug, since he slept through the pouring of coffee and juice, the uncovering of a steaming platter of fluffy scrambled eggs and bacon. Baxter asked if she cared for anything else.
“No, thank you, Mr. Baxter. This looks lovely.”
He beamed approvingly. “Just Baxter, Miss.” He looked at Kyle wordlessly, then returned to the kitchen.
Emma eyed Kyle, but his attention was on the food he was piling onto his plate. The early sunshine glinted off his hair, highlighting deep strands of auburn.
He looked up then, his eyes focusing on her with disturbing intensity. “Emma, stop worrying.”
“I wasn’t…Yes, I was.” And it bothered her that he’d been able to see it. “I can’t help it.” She picked up her fork, held it suspended over her plate. “My mama says I came out of the womb that way. Worrying.”
His eyes crinkled. “And where is your mama?”
“Tennessee.”
“She’s not able to come and see her grandson?”
“Mama’s got lots of grandkids.” He just kept watching her steadily and Emma found the words coming without volition. “Chandler is just one more, except I didn’t have the good grace to get married first like my sisters did.”
“She’ll feel differently when she holds Chandler in her arms. I can arrange for her to visit if you’d like. The flight would—”
“Mama would never get on an airplane,” Emma said hurriedly. Even if Emma had been able to afford the plane ticket for her mother to visit, it would have been wasted. Hattie Valentine traveled by bus or car or not at all. Not even Kyle Montgomery could change that. And her mother definitely wouldn’t approve of her middle daughter’s latest “shenanigans.”
“What about your father?”
“What about him?” She looked straight at him.
He stared right back. “I don’t like discussing the man who contributed to my existence, either,” he murmured after a moment.
Emma’s gaze fell, unable to withstand the intensity in his. Nor the empathy. Then her stomach growled again.
“Eat, Emma.”
Cheeks burning, she poked her fork into the eggs and ate.
The nursery, when Kyle eventually led the way upstairs after showing her through the rest of the glacially decorated first floor, was blessedly plain. Emma was also pleased to see that it shared the same panoramic view of the gardens, Buttonwood and the brilliant blue sky. The room had a high ceiling, plain white walls and a warm hardwood floor. Not a piece of marble or chrome in sight.
There was a connecting door to a smaller bedroom beside it, which contained a wide four-poster bed, nightstands and a matching chest of drawers. Emma wanted to sag with relief, but she controlled herself and moved across the squishy carpet to open a closed door. It revealed a spacious walk-in closet.
She looked over at Kyle. His hair seemed darker against the backdrop of the white room. “You kept the decorator from coming upstairs?”
“I can call her back this week if you’d like.”
“No!” Emma said hurriedly. “No, I didn’t mean that at all. The rooms are just fine the way they are.”
“You can pick out what you like for furnishings when we go out later. And whatever you need for the nursery, of course.”
“Chandler’s bassinet is fine for now,” Emma said. “I can bring it over here when I get my car.”
“I already said you wouldn’t need your car.”
“Maybe I want my car. Just because it’s not the type of car your wife would drive doesn’t mean—”
“Hold on there, Emma. The only reason you won’t need it is because I’ve a Land Rover you can use. I don’t care if you want to drive a tank or a Ferrari, as long as it’s road worthy. But until the work is finished on the drive, there simply isn’t room for three vehicles here.”
She propped her hands on her hips. “Sugar, I saw the size of the garage off the side of the house. It could handle a fleet of cars.”
“Ordinarily that’s true. But right now it’s got the skeleton of an old Lockheed P38 in it, and that takes up a sight more room than that gunboat you drive. Give me a chance to reorganize things a little, and you’ll have your car here with you. Okay?”
She blinked. Nodded. It certainly wasn’t the explanation she’d expected. And she actually felt badly for having misjudged him.
“In any case,” Kyle went on as if they hadn’t had the little sidetrack about cars and garages, “you’ll need more for the nursery than a bassinet. Don’t you want a rocking chair and—”
“We’re not going to be here all that long, anyway, so there’s no point in buying a lot of things.”
“There’s every point.” Kyle straightened from his slouch against the wall. “As far as everyone else is concerned, you and Chandler belong here. Naturally I’d provide for my family. What new parents don’t go out and buy everything on the planet they can afford for their new child, whether it’s necessary or not? I learned that quite well when my sister had her baby.”
“For goodness’ sake, Kyle. Do you think Mr. Cummings is going to want to snoop around your house to see how well you’ve equipped your supposed child’s nursery?”
“I’m not leaving anything to chance.”
She let out a long breath and closed the closet door. “It’s a wonder you didn’t find a real wife, then,” she murmured as she opened the next door. A bathroom. A big beautiful bathroom with a big beautiful bathtub that was practically large enough to swim in. It mad
e her forget for a moment the issue about her car. “Oh, my,” she breathed.
“So that’s what it takes to impress you,” Kyle said, coming up beside her. “A big square whirlpool tub.”
“Considering my apartment only has a shower about the size of a postage stamp, you’re darned too-tin’ I appreciate a nice tub.” She made a soft sound. “Seems kind of naughty to be discussing showers and tubs with a stranger whose house I’m moving into.” And since she’d admitted it, it seemed even more inappropriate.
“Mmm. Naughty.” He tugged at his ear, smiling faintly. “There’s a word I haven’t heard in a while.”
Emma felt her cheeks heat. She turned on her heel and walked across the room, out into the wide hall and away from him and his intoxicating scent.
There were several rooms off the hallway, and she wondered which one belonged to Kyle. She hoped it was the one on the end, because it was the farthest away. And seeing how just thinking about Kyle and bedrooms made her feel breathless, she figured distance was a safe thing.
Emma, Emma, Emma. What have you gotten yourself into? She tugged on the hem of her hip-length shirt and headed toward the staircase. The banister was gleaming mahogany and the stairs would have been simply beautiful, like something out of Gone with the Wind, if it wasn’t for the cold white carpet that flowed over them.
She started down the steps moments before she heard Chandler’s demanding cry. Baxter came out of the kitchen, and Emma hurried over to her baby, taking him into her arms with a profound sense of relief. Not that she didn’t think Baxter, with his baby sling and all, wasn’t quite capable of minding him for a little while. She just preferred to have Chandler with her.
“You’re hungry aren’t you, pumpkin?” She kissed his hand and swayed side to side. She needed to nurse him. Desperately. “I’ll just go upstairs now.”
Kyle nodded, his eyes on Chandler for a moment. He ran his fingertip over her son’s soft cheek, then blinked and stepped back. “Right. I’ll be at the office for the next few hours. Bax will help you unpack your things.” He strode to the door, scooped up his keys from the table where the diaper bag was and left.
Millionaire's Instant Baby Page 5