Gil looked at her, knowing she was right. But a part of him rebelled at the prospect. He’d never believed in the concept of soul mates, but Paulina understood him in a way no one else ever had. He’d miss that. “I’ll miss you,” he said softly.
She reached out and covered his hand with her own. “I’ll miss you, too.”
“Can I kiss you good-bye?” he asked.
Her eyes widened and Gil saw the pulse leap at the base of her throat above the ribbed neckline of her sweatshirt. His own pulse accelerated when he saw her mouth curve into a smile. Even with the bruises on her face, the smile was undeniably sexy.
“Actually, I was hoping you’d do more than that…” she responded breathlessly.
Was she now? Gil grinned and drew her hand to his lips. He was definitely up for a memorable farewell. He circled her pinkie with his tongue, then suckled gently, savoring the taste of her. Heat banked in the center of his body. He took her ring finger into his mouth, stroking it with his tongue. Then he closed his lips and drew her finger, slowly and provocatively, out of his mouth. Paulina moaned in response.
Oh, yes, he’d make their last night together as memorable as their first. “It’ll be a pleasure, Ms. Stewart,” he promised, caught between the ecstasy of having her one more time and the agony of knowing it would be the last.
Beneath the table, he felt her bare toes brush up his leg. “I’m counting on it, Gil.”
Chapter Sixteen
Gil paced the length of the foyer, stopped and looked out the beveled-glass sidelight framing the front door for what felt like the one hundredth time. Anticipation crested high in his chest and seemed to fill the house. Where was the social worker? After twenty-two anxiety-ridden days of filling out forms, interviews and making preparations, Mikey was finally coming home today.
And they were seventeen minutes late.
Gil’s knees trembled as he resumed his pacing. He could hear his mother and Mrs. McTavish, the Scottish nanny he’d hired, fussing upstairs in Mikey’s nursery. His father was out in the garage putting the finishing touches on a special woodworking project he was making for Mikey’s homecoming.
Gil pressed his face to the window again. A green sedan was pulling into the driveway, its horn sounding twice. Mikey!
“Mom! Dad!” Gil bellowed happily at the top of his lungs. “He’s here. Mikey’s home!” He heard his mother’s excited cry from upstairs as he tore open the front door. A wide grin split his face as he nimbly ran down the front walk. His dad was maneuvering his wheelchair from the garage, a brightly painted puppy pull toy in his lap. Gil beamed at his dad as the social worker unfastened Mikey from his car seat.
Mikey’s legs wiggled enthusiastically as she lifted him free and passed him to Gil. “Here’s your son, Mr. Boyer.”
Gil felt the tears smart in his eyes as he cradled his son in his arms. Holding Mikey was like holding a wiggling bundle of love and hope, and so much more. Gil only wished a starry-eyed private investigator could be here with them to share the moment.
“HEY, BOSS, MIND IF I come in? I want to discuss my maternity leave.”
Gil glanced up from the computer screen in his office and waved at Renée to enter, which she did slowly, hampered by the weight and size of the baby she carried. A gift bag dangled from her wrist.
“How are you feeling?” he asked with concern, smothering a yawn as she lowered herself into one of his spare chairs. He knew she’d had a checkup yesterday.
“Enormous,” she stated bluntly. “I have a strong dislike for slender women, but I understand that’s normal. The doctor says everything’s fine. Another three or four weeks and I’ll be falling asleep at my desk just like you.” She fluffed up her short, spiky bangs. “How’s fatherhood treating you?”
“It’s only been three days,” Gil said, with a grin. “An eventful three days—or maybe I should say an eventful three nights. Mikey’s a night owl and Mrs. McTavish made it clear when I hired her that I was on night shift.” Gil yawned again. “It would be easier if I were married.”
“Why? So your wife could get up in the middle of the night with him?” Renée rolled her eyes. “This may rock the foundation of your being, but I’ve got a news flash for you. Men are just as capable of taking care of babies as women.” She rubbed her stomach. “Lonny’s going to stay home and take care of our baby for the first year. We decided it was important for one of us to be there with our child, and from a financial standpoint it makes more sense for me to continue working, because I earn more than him.”
Gil didn’t know what to say; he was too stunned to speak. Lonny wrote a sports column for the Ottawa Citizen. He was staying home?
She plopped the gift bag on his desk. “This is for you. I bought one for Lonny, too.”
“Thanks.” Gil peeked in the bag and withdrew a book tied with a blue satin ribbon.
“There’s everything you need to know in there about taking care of a baby. And I assure you, not once does it say only a woman can do this—with the exception of breast feeding. But Mikey’s on a bottle, anyway.”
Gil flushed. He’d heard of couples working part-time and sharing the child-care load, but he’d never actually met a stay-at-home dad. Thank God he had the resources to hire a nanny for Mikey. But he still considered Mrs. McTavish a less-than-perfect temporary solution.
He fingered the thick book, unconvinced it could wipe away the uncertainty that had coursed through him last night when Mikey had awakened at three and cried for an hour and forty-five minutes. Gil had tried everything—changing his diaper, giving him a bottle, walking him, even singing to him. Exhausted and out of ideas, he’d piled the pillows against his headboard and settled back, with Mikey tucked securely against his chest—and just held him. Mikey had gradually calmed down, snuffling his little nose against Gil’s shoulder in the same way Gil had seen him nosing against Cindy. Gil wondered if Mikey was crying because he missed Cindy.
It made Gil all the more certain Mikey needed a mother. But for some reason, Gil had no enthusiasm for beginning a wife hunt. Three weeks had passed since he and Paulina had said good-bye. The heat of the passion they’d shared that night still lingered in him, warming him whenever something triggered a thought of Paulina. For a fleeting instant, he allowed himself to wonder how she was and what she was doing. Had she returned from Australia?
God, he missed her. Missed the intimacy of their teasing. Missed the intimacy of their joined hands. Their joined bodies.
He’d received a bill from her office, but there’d been no other form of communication. Gil knew there wouldn’t be. He had to focus on the present and future. Paulina was a seductive memory belonging to the past.
He smiled at Renée and searched his mind, trying to remember what they’d been talking about. Her maternity leave. Oh, yeah, he wished Lonny a lot of luck. Renée’s husband had no idea what was in store for him.
IT FELT STRANGE TO BE in her office again after two weeks away. Strange to think it was spring in Australia while a few stray snowflakes drifted down from the Ottawa skies. Paulina shifted restlessly in her chair. The walls that had been her main source of happiness for years, now seemed somehow confining as she weeded her way through the paperwork that had piled up on her desk in her absence. Of course, it didn’t help that she found herself glancing frequently toward her office door—half expecting a certain handsome shadow to materialize.
Paulina shook her head at her wishful thinking and skimmed the last page of Brenda Watson’s final report. She gave the document a satisfied pat. A fairly happy ending—all things considered. Paulina got weepy just thinking about it. It hadn’t taken Brenda long to realize she couldn’t uproot Bryan from his family and friends. Especially when Bryan had always believed Peg to be his mother. Brenda and Will were eventually able to reach an agreement that would allow Bryan to visit her at Christmas.
Paulina put the report in the Out basket and reluctantly reached for the next task requiring her attention: the final report Andrea ha
d submitted to Gil along with a bill for investigative services. She sighed as she reviewed Andrea’s report. It was excellent work. Thorough and concise. Gil had sent a check by return mail, paying the account in full.
The case should be over. Closed.
Paulina smoothed her hand over the pages in the file as though she expected Gil’s warmth and personality to flow into her palm. She should instruct Andrea to stick a red dot on the corner of the folder and file it, but she couldn’t. Not just yet. A crazy thought had hit her in Australia as she lay awake listening to the ocean pounding on the shore. Paulina knew she had to pursue it before she declared the case officially closed.
But following up the lead would mean she might have to see Gil again. Her heart quivered at the possibility.
She chewed on her lower lip, grappling with the decision. Was it possible she was using the case as an excuse because she couldn’t let go of Gil? Regardless of her feelings for Gil, the hit-and-run driver who’d killed Ted Boyer was still at large. And anyway, it was just a hunch.
Paulina searched through the file for the notes of her conversation with Jean-Luc’s buddy Alain Valiquette. What was it Alain had said about doing some bodywork on Jean-Luc’s car? It might be a coincidence but…she checked the date of Ted’s death. A thread of instinct looped into a double knot in her stomach. She knew she was poking her nose where it didn’t belong, but her conscience wouldn’t let her leave it alone. She picked up the phone and called Robbins.
PAULINA’S PHONE CALL in late November caught Gil completely by surprise. She wanted to see him? His fingers were so damp and sweaty with sudden nervousness, the portable phone nearly slipped from his grasp onto the sofa where he’d been changing Mikey’s diaper.
“When would be convenient for me to drop by?” she asked with uncustomary shyness.
“Anytime. I’ll be home all day,” he told her, as Mikey cooed up at him and rolled onto his tummy, his knees moving like tiny pistons. Gil grabbed him to keep him from falling off the edge of the couch and held on tight. “There’s someone here who’d like to meet you,” he puffed with exertion as Mikey tried to squirm free.
“I’m looking forward to it. I’ll see you soon.”
Gil hung up, slightly mystified, a current of excitement electrifying his gut. He couldn’t fathom the reason for Paulina’s unexpected request to drop by on a Saturday. Was she missing him as much as he missed her?
Hope bloomed in his heart despite the logical protestations of his mind. Maybe she felt as though a piece of her was irretrievably gone, too. Gil had given her a part of himself that last night, when he’d been buried so deep inside the sweet essence of her that he’d literally shattered with the wonder of it. He went rigid just thinking about the way she’d locked her legs around him and wouldn’t let him withdraw. They’d lain together, panting and damp with perspiration, until he’d swelled in her again and the hot, insatiable need to be one with her took complete possession of his body and his soul. And he’d walked out of her apartment the next morning knowing he’d never see her again—unless by accident.
Maybe she just wanted to see Mikey.
Who cared what the reason was? What mattered was she was coming. He hoisted Mikey into the air like an airplane. Mikey chortled with glee.
“Okay, buddy, we gotta hit the showers and wash your breakfast off your face. We have a lady visitor to impress. Rule number one about women—they like men to look good and smell good.” He gave Mikey a jiggle of air turbulence as they headed for the staircase. Mikey waved his arms and cooed for more. Gil complied, feeling his love for his nephew circle his heart with a glowing warmth. “Whatever you do, buddy, don’t drool on her. Women hate that. Just play it cool and look cute. I’ll do the talking.”
Mikey turned his head and looked at Gil, his fine gold eyebrows arched up as though questioning his uncle’s sanity.
Gil chuckled. “Yeah, buddy, I’m crazy. But at least I’ll know I gave it my best shot.”
THE FIRST VISIBLE SIGN that Gil’s house now contained a family sat on the front steps wearing a crooked grin and a sooty, shrunken cap. Paulina was sure the rotting jack-o’lantern was laughing at her as she marched up the steps, juggling a stack of gaily wrapped gifts for Mikey in her arms. Her legs shook as she freed a finger to press the doorbell. Her mouth felt as though she’d swallowed sand. Why was she so nervous?
All she had to do was tell Gil who killed Ted, admire Mikey and leave. Piece of cake. And yet, she was scared to death.
The door swung open and her gaze locked on Gil, then onto the smiling baby in his arms. Her chin dropped in adoration as an invisible hand gave a strong tug on her heartstrings. Mikey was wearing a blue velour sleeper with a football insignia on the knees. His butter-gold curls were rakishly mussed. His pale blue eyes had a shy, trusting innocence that melted her insides. Pride that she’d played a hand in determining his fate curved her lips into a broad smile.
“God, I love my job,” she squeaked over the lump in her throat, unable to take her eyes off Mikey and his dimpled smile. Mikey blinked back at her as though he wondered what all the fuss was about.
“I love your job, too,” Gil said quietly, his arms tightening reflexively around Mikey. “You look good. The bruises are gone.”
Paulina nodded, feeling a blush creep over her cheeks as she took stock of Gil’s jeans and his Ottawa Rough Riders sweatshirt with the sleeves pushed casually up to his elbows, and finally slanted her gaze to his clean-shaven face. She caught the discreet scent of his cologne as she tumbled into the dazzling trap of Gil’s eyes. Longing pierced her like a serrated blade.
“Mikey looks right at home in your arms,” she said softly. For a fraction of a second, she felt insanely envious of the little cherub. She struggled to get a mental grip on herself. She was here to finish a job. Nothing more.
He pulled the door open wider, looking ill at ease. “Come in. You’re always welcome in this house.”
“I brought a few things for Mikey,” she said awkwardly, stepping into the foyer. She set the presents down on a table and shrugged out of her leather jacket, turning to hang it on the wrought iron hall tree. Her heart gave a painful squeeze at the presence of a pink woman’s cardigan suspended from another hook. It was hand knitted.
Paulina told herself it was none of her business that Gil had a woman’s sweater in his house. It probably belonged to his mother. Or he’d lost no time in finding a mother for Mikey, in which case she should be happy for him. She knew exactly how quickly a woman could fall in love with a man like Gil.
Considerably subdued, Paulina gathered her packages and followed Gil into the living room. She joined him and Mikey on the sofa, noticing that Gil’s decor had changed significantly. A baby swing sat in the corner of the living room. Toys were piled in a playpen. And the dining room had been transformed into a handsomely furnished office. Paulina wondered what other changes had taken place in Gil’s life.
This was too hard. She should have let Robbins tell Gil about Ted.
“I see you’ve been busy redecorating,” she said tartly.
“Yeah. I hired a live-in nanny to help out. Mrs. McTavish is a nice, grandmotherly-type Scottish nanny, but I’m the only familiar face Mikey has left, so I want to be around him as much as possible. My parents couldn’t stay here indefinitely. This home-office concept is working out better than I expected.”
So, the feminine pink sweater belonged to a grandmotherly nanny. Paulina felt ridiculously relieved.
Mikey leaned forward in Gil’s arms and patted at the boxes Paulina held against her chest like a shield. Gil lifted one off the top of the pile and let Mikey chew on it. “I see you’ve been busy shopping.” He pointed at the signature gold sticker of a baby boutique, which secured the gift card in place. He read the gift card, then set it aside with a brief thank-you and concentrated on helping Mikey unwrap the package. It was a mother rubber duck and duckling.
“Sorry, there weren’t any uncle ducks,” she joked, desperately wan
ting to break the awkwardness that was becoming stickier than peanut butter.
“This’ll do.”
She talked her way through the other gifts—the stacking rings, the books, the stroller activity toy with gadgets to twist and turn and poke at and the child-size football. Mikey started to gnaw on a sheet of wrapping paper and Gil cleared it away, his fingers sure and loving.
Paulina closed her eyes briefly. Her lap felt terribly empty. The presents she and her mother had so carefully selected last night were all unwrapped. She felt miniature warm fists pummeling her thigh.
“That’s Mikey’s way of thanking you,” Gil teased, pride in his voice.
“His manners need a little work,” Paulina said, laughing. Mikey cocked his head up at her at the sound of her voice and she stroked one of his hands. It felt softer than goose down. “C-could I hold him?” she asked, surprising herself.
“Help yourself,” Gil muttered wryly.
She could feel his eyes on her as she inched her fingers around Mikey’s plump trunk and planted him in her lap. He was a lot heavier than she imagined, but he smelled divine—of shampoo and baby powder. And his toothless, drippy smile was irresistible. Paulina dropped a kiss on his buttery curls as he explored the flowers dotting her sweater. Mikey made a happy, babbling sound like he enjoyed having perfect strangers kiss him.
Gil cleared his throat, his tone brusque. “What brings you here, Paulina?”
Paulina glanced at him quickly, her heart racing with uncertainty as she tried to decipher the tone of his question. His eyes were veiled, shadowing her from his thoughts. But he seemed to be waiting for an explanation. Was he somehow worried she’d come to throw herself at him?
She lowered her gaze. “There’s something I need to tell you about Ted.”
“Ah, so this is about the case.” He stood up and took Mikey from her. Then he walked across the room and put Mikey in the swing.
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