The Christmas Baby Bonus

by Yvonne Lindsay

  Piers fell silent and angled his body to face her, one arm resting along the back of the sofa.

  “I asked you this before but this time I want an answer. How come you know so much about babies? I know you act like you want nothing to do with them but your advice is always spot-on. You talk about child care like you really understand it.”

  Faye felt the all too familiar lump solidify in her throat. She swallowed to try to clear it but it barely made any difference.

  “I’ve seen kids in the care system. Some of them abandoned, some of them taken from their families through hardship or abuse. It gave me an insight, that’s all.”

  The half lie made her heart begin to race in her chest. An insight? That was far too mild a description for what it had been like in her foster home when a baby was brought to the house for care—and in her years there, there had been several. She vividly remembered the first one who’d come into the home after her placement. Remembered hurrying home from high school each day so she could help her foster mom with the little boy’s care. She didn’t understand then, but now she knew that she’d poured all of her love for her dead baby brother into that child. When he was eventually returned to his parents, she’d felt the aching loss of his departure as if it was a physical pain.

  She’d promised herself she wouldn’t get so involved the next time, but she’d been unable to help herself. Each child had called to her on one level or another—each one a substitute; a vessel open to receive all the love she had inside her. Her foster mom had seen it all, had talked with Faye’s caseworker about it, but the woman had told her it was a good thing. That it was allowing Faye to work through her grief for her family. But it hadn’t. In the end, when she’d aged out of the system at eighteen and gone to college, she was just as broken as she’d been when she’d arrived.

  A touch on her cheek made her realize she’d fallen deep into her reveries—forgotten where she was, and why. To her horror she realized she was crying. She bolted up from the sofa and dashed her hands across her face, wiping all trace of tears from her cheeks.

  “Faye? It’s more than that, isn’t it?” Piers probed gently. “How did you see those kids in the system? Was it when you were placed in foster care yourself?”

  She stopped at the French doors. Maybe this would be easier if she couldn’t see him. Couldn’t feel his strong reassuring presence so close beside her.

  “Yes.”

  A shudder shook her. Warm hands settled on her shoulders but he made no move to turn her around.

  “It must have been hell for you.”

  She didn’t want to go into details, so she did the only thing she knew would distract him. She spun and slipped her hands around the back of his neck and gently coaxed his face to hers.

  He didn’t pull away; he didn’t protest. He simply closed his arms around her waist, let her take his mouth and coax his lips open.

  The second she did, she felt a jolt of need course through her. A need that demanded he fill all the dark, empty spaces inside. The spaces she barely even wanted to acknowledge existed. She wanted him so badly her entire body shook with it, and when his hands began to move, one cupping her buttocks and pulling her more firmly into the cradle of his hips, she let herself give over to sensation.

  She couldn’t get enough of him. His taste, his scent, the strong, hard feeling of his body against hers. Her mind blazed with heat and longing, remembering the intense gratification he’d wrung from her. The feeling of him reaching his own peak and knowing he’d found that delight in her.

  “Dinner is served in the conservatory, Mr. Luckman. Oh!”

  Faye ripped her lips from his and tried to pull away, but Piers wouldn’t let her go. Instead he firmly rubbed her back, as one would when trying to settle a skittish animal.

  “Thank you, Meredith. We’ll be along in a moment.”

  Faye ducked her head, unable to meet the housekeeper’s eyes. Ashamed of what she’d done.

  Piers tipped her chin so she’d looked up at him again.

  “As a distraction tactic, I have to say, I admire your strategy. Shall we go through to dinner?”

  Faye pulled away again and Piers let her go this time.

  “No. Look, I’d better go. Meredith—”

  “No more running away. Meredith won’t say a word. You should know as well as anyone that she’s the soul of discretion. Besides, she likes you.”

  Like her or not, Faye felt horribly uncomfortable as she let Piers tug her down the hall to the family room and through to an informal dining area in the conservatory, where Meredith had arranged their meal. A succulent-looking tri-tip roast nestled in its juices on a carving plate and a roasted vegetable salad was piled in a serving dish beside it. The scents of balsamic and garlic made Faye’s mouth water hungrily.

  Meredith looked up from tweaking a napkin at one of the place settings. “I’ve left the roast for you to carve, Mr. Luckman. The baby is down for the night, so I’ll be off now. The monitor is on the sideboard over there. Bon appétit!” And, with a warm and knowing smile in Faye’s direction, she bustled her way back to the kitchen.

  Faye felt herself begin to relax. Okay, so Meredith didn’t judge her for what she’d seen back there in the living room. And why should she? a little voice asked. She’s probably seen Piers kissing women every day.

  Across the table, Piers picked up the carving knife and fork. “What’s your pleasure?” he asked with a hooded look.

  Her insides clenched on a wave of heat at his simple question. “I...I beg your pardon?”

  “Do you prefer the crispy end or something from the middle?”

  “Oh, the end bit, please.”

  “Your wish is my command.”

  Faye watched, mesmerized, as Piers deftly carved the tri-tip into slices and then served her. The evening sun caught the hairs on his arm and instantly she was thrown back to Wyoming. Remembering how his body hair had felt under her fingertips. More, how the silky heat of his skin had felt against hers. She pressed her thighs together as another surge of need billowed through her.

  What on earth had she been thinking, kissing him before? It had awakened a monster within her. A demanding monster that plucked at her psyche, drawing on select memories that would eventually drive her mad.

  Mad with lust, perhaps, that thoroughly inconvenient droll little voice said at the back of her mind.

  In an effort to distract herself, Faye served a large helping of balsamic-roasted vegetables onto Piers’s plate and a smaller helping for herself. She tried to direct the conversation toward a project nearing completion in San Francisco but Piers wasn’t having any of it.

  “Let’s leave work at the office for today, hmm?” he said, spearing some food on his fork and lifting it to his mouth. “What do you think of the vegetables? Meredith uses a secret ingredient that she refuses to disclose to me. Maybe you can help me figure out what it is?”

  Was he serious? Apparently so, judging by the expression on his face. She’d never really stopped to watch him eat before, but now, with a faint glisten on his lips and a rapt expression on his face, she was reminded all too much of how seriously he took other pleasures. Biting back a moan, Faye sampled some of the vegetables herself.

  “Tell me,” Piers insisted. “What do you taste?”

  “Well, balsamic vinegar, of course. And garlic. And...” She let the flavors roll over her tongue. “Rosemary. Definitely rosemary.”

  “Yes, but there’s something else in there. It’s subtle but sweet. Meredith obviously uses it sparingly.”

  Faye concentrated a little longer, closing her eyes this time as she sampled another mouthful.

  “Honey!” she exclaimed. “It’s barely there, like you said, but I just get a hint of it before I swallow.”

  Across the table Piers beamed at her. “You know, I�
��ve been trying to figure that out for the better part of two years. It’s been driving me crazy.”

  “Really? That’s been the driving question behind everything you do?” Faye teased, laughing softly.

  “You’re beautiful when you laugh like that. Actually, you’re beautiful all the time, but when you let go and laugh—” He paused, his face growing serious and his eyes deepening into dark pools.

  “Stop it,” Faye insisted. “You’re making me uncomfortable.”

  “I can’t help it, Faye. I have feelings for you. I want to talk about them. About you. About us.”

  “The only us is the us that works together,” she said adamantly and carved a piece of meat to put in her mouth.

  “I’d like there to be more than that. Wouldn’t you? Don’t you think we owe it to ourselves to explore what we shared back at the lodge?”

  She chewed, swallowed and set her knife and fork down before looking at him. It took all her control to keep her response short and to the point.

  “No.”

  “Don’t you ever get tired of hiding from your feelings, Faye?”

  “I’m just being pragmatic. Look, your track record with women speaks volumes to your inability to commit long-term, even if I was interested in anything long-term. Which I’m not. Ever.”

  Faye looked at the skillfully prepared food on her plate and felt all appetite flee. She hated having to talk like this to Piers and fervently wished they’d never gone and complicated everything by having sex.

  “That’s a shame. As to my track record, perhaps I’ve been searching for the one who has been under my nose all the time?”

  “You’re being ridiculous,” she scoffed.

  But deep inside a little piece of her began to wish she could reach out and accept what he was offering. She wondered what it would be like to belong to someone. To be a part of more than just one.

  The monitor on the sideboard near the entrance to the conservatory crackled into life and Casey’s cry broke into the air.

  “You’d better go and see to him,” Faye said.

  Piers looked as if he wanted to say more to her but he couldn’t ignore the growing demands of the baby upstairs.

  “Don’t you dare leave,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I—”

  “Don’t. Leave.”

  And with that demand he rose and walked quickly to the doorway.

  A few minutes later, through the monitor, Faye heard Piers enter the baby’s room. He made soothing sounds as he obviously picked the little boy up and tried to settle him. She felt as though she was eavesdropping on something precious and wished like crazy she could get up and walk away. That she could forget the man upstairs and the child he cared for. But she knew that both of them had somehow inveigled their way into her heart. She shook her head at her own stupidity. How had she let that happen? Why?

  Casey had obviously soiled his diaper, and she could hear Piers gagging in the background as he cleaned the little boy up. Obviously he was going to be a while. Faye gathered their plates and took them through to the kitchen where she put them in the oven, which she set on warm. No need for cold dinner, she thought.

  She went back to the table and played with her water glass, trying not to listen as Piers struggled through the diaper change. There was something about hearing her handsome, capable boss being so completely out of his element that really appealed to her. Her hand to her mouth, she tried to hold back the chuckle that rose from deep inside.

  Eventually, Piers resettled the child and returned to the conservatory.

  “I hope you washed your hands,” she teased.

  “As if my life depended on it.” Piers shook his head. “I still can’t believe a baby can do that.”

  Faye felt a smile pull at her lips but fought to hide it. “Just wait till he projectile v—”

  “Don’t!” Piers barked, holding up a hand in protest. “Just don’t.”

  Faye shrugged. “It’s not all roses, is all I’m saying.”

  “I’ve discovered that,” Piers replied ruefully.

  “I’ll get our plates,” she said, rising. “That’s if you’re still hungry?”

  Piers pulled a face. “I guess I could still eat. Especially after Meredith went to all that effort.”

  “Good choice.” Faye tossed the words over her shoulder as she went through to the kitchen to retrieve their meals.

  “Thanks for keeping it warm for me,” Piers said as he picked up his knife and fork.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “You do that all the time. Did you know that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Diminish what you do.”

  “Do I?”

  Faye stopped and thought for a bit. She had to concede he was probably right.

  “Why is that? Don’t you think that what you do is good enough? That you’re good enough?”

  Faye just looked at him in surprise. She’d never really stopped to consider it before.

  Piers continued, “Because you are. You’re better than good enough. You’re the best assistant I’ve ever had and I know you apply yourself one hundred percent to everything you do.”

  She looked away, uncomfortable with the praise. Wasn’t it enough that she just did her job? Did he have to talk about it?

  “But what about your personal life, Faye?” He pressed on. “You have friends, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do,” she answered automatically.

  “You never talk about them.”

  “I thought I’d made it clear. My private life is private.”

  “Faye, I want to be a part of your private life. I want to be a part of your life altogether.”

  “I can’t do that,” she answered, shaking her head.

  “So far you haven’t given me a decent reason as to why not. And I won’t back down without one. You know I don’t give up when I want something.”

  She pushed her chair back from the table and stood. “I’m not just something to be wanted, Piers. And I don’t have to give you a reason for anything. You’re my boss. So far, you’ve been a good one, but I’m beginning to revise my opinion on that.”

  “Is that why you won’t let anything develop between us?” he said, swiftly coming around the table to stand between her and the exit. “Because I’m your boss? Because if it is, then I’ll fire you here and now so we can be together.”

  There was another sound from the monitor and Faye went rigid.

  Piers looked at her with questions in his eyes. “Is it Casey? Or is it me?”

  “No, it’s neither of you,” she lied, her voice a little more than a whisper. “I just don’t want to get involved. With anyone. Look, thanks for dinner. I have to go.”

  She pushed past him and all but ran to the living room, where she grabbed her bag and headed for the front door. Piers was a second behind her. She spun around to face him.

  “Yes, before you say it, I am running away. It’s how I deal with stuff, okay? If I don’t like a situation I’m in, I remove myself from it.”

  “But you do like me, don’t you, Faye?” He stepped a little closer, his strong, warm hands clasping her upper arms and pulling her gently to him. “In fact, you more than like me. You’re just fighting it. If it makes it any easier, I more than like you, too. In fact, I—”

  “Don’t!” Faye pressed her fingers to his mouth before he could say another word. “Don’t say anything, please. I don’t deserve it.”

  And with that she tugged loose from his grasp, pulled open the front door and hightailed it to her car.

  Eleven

  Piers watched her leave in a state of shock. He’d been on the verge of declaring he loved her. In fact, right now he was probably more stunned by that almost-admissio
n than she was.

  He closed the door and slowly walked back to the conservatory, automatically clearing the table and putting away the leftovers. Meredith had her own suite downstairs in the house, with its own entrance, but she was away at a community college course tonight. Something he’d offered to fund for her when he’d heard of her long-held dream to study English literature. It certainly didn’t hurt him to look after himself for one night a week, especially if that only meant cleaning up his dinner dishes.

  Helping people achieve their dreams made him feel good. Whether it was at work and assisting them to develop further in their role or whether it was through the generous donations he made to various charities in the area. But never had he wanted to help someone as badly as he wanted to help Faye. What would it take to make her feel good? Something held her back. He could sense she wanted more—just as he did—but every time she started to reach for it, she yanked herself away. Almost as if she felt she had to punish herself for wanting it in the first place. The why of it might elude him forever if she didn’t open up, unless the private investigator he’d contacted came up with what he needed to know.

  Thinking about what he’d done, requesting the investigation, made him question his morals. Faye had a right to privacy and if she didn’t want him to know about her past then he ought to respect that. In any other instance he would. But this was Faye. This was the woman who’d let him be her first lover. This was the woman he’d fallen in love with. Not a sudden headlong lunge into love, but a long and growing respect that had evolved into so much more while they’d been snowbound at the lodge.

  He couldn’t just ignore what they could potentially have together. They both deserved to know exactly where they could go with the feelings she so determinedly kept shoving away.