The Maid, the Millionaire and the Baby

by Michelle Douglas

  With a nod, he shot to his feet and strode into Kate’s room. ‘How are you feeling? Is there anything I can get for you?’

  ‘Now that I’m here, I’m feeling remarkably calm.’

  He sat on the edge of her bed. ‘Is there anything you’d like me to do?’

  ‘Actually, there is.’

  He leaned towards her, all attention. ‘Name it.’

  ‘I’m going to be busy with tests all day, Jasper. I don’t want Imogen fretting any more than she already is. Besides, a hospital waiting room is no place for a baby. I want you to take her out to see the sights—get her mind off things for a while. I don’t want to see either one of you until visiting hours this evening.’

  ‘But—’

  She raised an eyebrow and he swallowed back his protests. ‘I’ve a novel I wouldn’t mind finishing. I have a pen and notepad because a new story idea has come calling, which is far from convenient considering I haven’t finished my current one yet but playing around with that will keep me busy. And I have a playlist full of my favourite songs. I’ve everything I need to keep me calm and occupied.’

  He read the subtext. Him and Imogen fussing and hovering would add to her stress—their anxiety would feed hers. He flashed to Imogen’s pale face and nodded. Sitting here worrying wouldn’t do her any good either. He fished out his phone and brought up a list of current ‘things to do’ in São Paulo and scanned the offerings. His lips lifted, and he met Kate’s gaze. ‘Done. Now is there anything I can get or do for you before I whisk Imogen away for the day?’

  ‘I have everything I need, thank you. You’ve gone above and beyond.’

  He rose, hesitated and then leaned across to press a kiss to her cheek. ‘We’re just a phone call away. If you need us...’

  She nodded, blinking hard, and then she rolled her eyes as two orderlies came into the room pushing a wheelchair. ‘Honestly, is that necessary? You are aware that I haven’t lost the use of my legs?’

  Jasper hid a smile. She pointed a finger at him. ‘Now, I’m looking forward to being regaled with your adventures later this evening, so don’t let me down.’

  He saluted and left the room. Imogen glanced up and he forced a cheerfulness he was far from feeling. ‘Come on.’ He took the stroller and started to wheel it down the hall. ‘We’ve been banished.’

  She rose automatically but she didn’t move. ‘By who?’

  He linked an arm though hers and urged her forward. ‘Who do you think?’

  ‘Oh, but—’

  ‘Imogen, Kate is going to be busy with tests all day. It’s not like we’re going to get a chance to see her between those tests or to sit with her.’

  ‘I know. I just... I want to be close in case she needs us.’

  ‘She has both our numbers on speed dial.’ He forced himself to release her. Touching her made him...actually it unmade him. ‘Do you know what she’s looking forward to?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Us regaling her with our adventures for the day.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Wondering what we’re getting up to is one of the things that will help her get through today.’

  She worried at her lip.

  ‘And you know how she hates fuss of any kind.’

  She worried harder and he wanted to wrap her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right. Only he didn’t know if it would be. Panic tried to let loose inside him, but he reined it in. ‘And this isn’t a place for a baby.’

  She glanced at George and her shoulders slumped. ‘Okay, but if you think some cathedral or museum is going to take my mind off what’s happening here you have rocks in your head.’

  ‘That sounds like a challenge.’ He pushed the stroller into motion again, and her eyes widened at what he expected was the smug expression on his face. ‘I’ll bet you lunch at an authentic Brazilian eatery that it does.’

  Her jaw dropped. ‘You’re on,’ she said with a glare.

  Twenty minutes later a taxi set them down at their destination—the museum of contemporary art. Imogen watched the taxi depart. ‘Your Portuguese is very good. When did you learn?’

  ‘When I first arrived on Tesoura. It seemed the polite thing to do.’

  He’d banished himself to an island and had learned a language he hardly ever used because he never went anywhere, and he never saw anyone. What kind of sense did that make?

  He shook the thought away as she glanced at the building in front of him. ‘So this is a...museum.’

  ‘Not just any museum. Here, you take the top and I’ll take the bottom.’ He gestured to the stroller and together they manoeuvred it up the stairs.

  ‘What’s so special about—?’

  She broke off when she saw the sign advertising the current exhibition, and he grinned at her expression. ‘You mean besides the fact that there’s currently a costume exhibition showing here?’

  The woman was a dressmaker, a seamstress—she’d worked in Paris and was opening her own sewing school in a couple of months. He figured the one thing in this entire amazing city that had the potential to charm her, to fire her enthusiasm and imagination, was a historic collection of amazing clothes.

  She slammed her hands on her hips, and he could see her try to work up some righteous outrage. ‘You exploited my weakness for a free lunch?’

  ‘Hey, whatever works.’

  She glanced at the sign again. ‘Well, it looks as if lunch is definitely on me.’ She threaded her arm through his and he had to grit his teeth against the rush of warmth that sped through him. ‘C’mon, I can’t wait to see this. When Aunt Katherine hears about it, you’re going to get the biggest gold star.’

  The next two hours flew by. The clothes on display were utterly amazing—everything from indigenous ceremonial robes, intricate Renaissance ball gowns, to costumes used in popular soap operas. There were hats and shoes, underclothes and tools of the trade that meant very little to him. It wasn’t the items on display that held his attention, but Imogen’s rapt delight. Her explanations of the techniques used and her appreciation for the fine craftsmanship had him transfixed.

  ‘Your sewing school is going to be amazing.’

  She stilled but didn’t look at him. ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘You have a real passion for all of this. And passion is the thing that makes the difference. People are drawn to it. It gives you the energy and drive to succeed. It means that when you hit a road bump, you’ll find a way around it.’ He could almost sense the doubts piling up inside her. ‘And you shouldn’t let that stupid ex-boyfriend of yours convince you otherwise.’

  She swung to him, her mouth dropping, but then she turned back to the displays and he let the matter drop. Her passion challenged him in ways he hadn’t expected. He’d been passionate once—passionate about building his company into a globally recognised brand; passionate about doing all he could to help his mother and sister; passionate about neutralising his father and the harm he did.

  He’d let his passion die. And in the process, he’d become a robot. His chest cramped. His passion for life and justice might’ve died, but it didn’t mean he had to become a miserable excuse for a human being.

  He shook the thought off and picked up George’s tossed bunny for the fifth time. George squealed in joy when Jasper handed it to him...again.

  He was convinced Imogen would’ve happily spent the entire day perusing the collection, but George’s eventual protests warned them he’d had enough of being cooped up in his stroller.

  She turned with a smile. ‘Lunch?’

  ‘I know the perfect place.’

  Her lips twitched. ‘I just bet you do.’

  He took her to Ibirapuera Park. At 158 hectares, it was one of the largest urban parks in Latin America. They bought pastel de queijos—delicious deep-fried snacks stuffed with savoury fillings�
��and meat patties formed around wooden skewers called kibe, and sat on the grass to eat them. They spread out a small blanket for George, and he belly-crawled between the two of them, munching on a rusk and cooing his delight at being freed from his pram.

  Buskers started up nearby and Imogen leaned towards them as she listened. ‘My father would love this so hard.’

  Her sound-recording father? He straightened from where he’d been leaning back on his elbows. He’d been trying to think of a way to keep her occupied for the afternoon, and he might’ve just found it. ‘Would you keep an eye on George for ten minutes while I slip off?’

  ‘Sure.’

  It took him fifteen minutes, but it was worth it when he lowered his bag of purchases to her lap. She pulled out the mini cassette recorder and the stack of tiny tapes he’d bought, and she turned to him with a question in her eyes. ‘I thought you might like to record these guys for your dad...and maybe send your parents a kind of São Paulo diary. I mean, I know you can do that stuff on your phone, but reception is pretty dodgy at Tesoura, and if you wanted to continue the diary there... Anyway, I thought your father might enjoy the older technology.’

  ‘Oh, Jasper, that’s a brilliant idea!’ She leaned across to George, who sat between them, and tickled his tummy. ‘Your uncle has the best ideas, George.’ She glanced up, her eyes shining. ‘Thank you, it was the perfect thing to do.’

  He didn’t know how she did it, but she made him feel like a superhero.

  She slipped a tape into the recorder and immediately gave the date and location, introducing both George and Jasper and making them say hello into the machine. George’s hello was inaudible as he tried to eat the recorder. She rescued it with a laugh and then rested back on one hand and gave her impressions of the city. She recorded the nearby buskers—but not until she’d bought their CD and asked their permission. When they found out she was from Australia they played a Brazilian version of ‘Waltzing Matilda’ that absolutely delighted her.

  Her fun and excitement infected both him and George. Though eventually George snuggled down on his blanket with his bottle, his eyes growing heavy as the afternoon began to lengthen. Imogen collapsed to her knees beside Jasper, gesturing to the buskers. ‘They’re amazing. My father will love them. This day has been amazing, Jasper. It shouldn’t have been but...you’re amazing.’

  And then she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his in a brief, exuberant kiss that had every pulse in his body thumping.

  She eased away, still smiling, but it faded as she stared into his eyes. Her lips parted and a yearning he couldn’t refuse stretched across her face. In that moment he was lost. Curving a hand around her nape, he drew her head back down to his again and he kissed her with a hunger he didn’t bother trying to conceal. Somehow, she ended up in his lap, curled there as if she belonged, her fingers threading through his short hair, her tongue tangling with his and driving him mad with need.

  He only came to when a group of passing youths catcalled. Damn. What on earth was he thinking? They were supposed to be looking after a baby, not necking like a couple of teenagers!

  He set her away from him with more speed than grace. ‘I’m sorry. I promised that wouldn’t happen again.’

  She paled at whatever she saw in his face. He pulled in a deep breath, tried to moderate his voice. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘I’m fine.’ She lifted her chin. ‘I’m not the one who’s sorry that happened.’ The green in her eyes flashed. ‘I like kissing you, Jasper. I... I like you.’

  He saw then how invested she was becoming—in him...in them. But there was no them. And if he let her continue thinking that, he’d hurt her. Badly. With a force of will, he hardened his heart. ‘I like kissing you too, but it won’t happen again. Emotions are running high today.’

  Her gaze narrowed. ‘It’s more than that and you know it.’

  ‘And I don’t need the complication in my life,’ he continued as if she hadn’t interrupted. He hated the swift shaft of pain that darkened her eyes. ‘Your aunt would never forgive me if I scratched that particular itch with you, especially if I let you think it meant more than it did.’

  He waited for her to call him a jackass, but she didn’t. She merely turned her back on him and her attention back to the park.

  Damn! His life was on a Brazilian island. Hers was in Australia. Their lives were going in totally opposite directions. Perhaps that in and of itself wasn’t such an insurmountable obstacle if it weren’t for other things. But there were other things—his father, his own reluctance to trust again, his lack of faith and hope. Just...no! He wasn’t prepared to go through any of that again.

  He couldn’t give her the kind of long-term relationship she wanted and deserved, so he had no business kissing her. What she deserved was a wholesome, undamaged man who wasn’t carrying a ton of baggage and didn’t have a family like his waiting to close its jaws about her. She deserved a man who could commit to forever. A man who could protect her rather than one who would bring trouble to her door.

  And that man wasn’t him.

  CHAPTER NINE

  IMOGEN STARED AT the doctor the following morning. ‘The lump is benign?’ she repeated.

  ‘We’re ninety per cent certain it’s benign,’ the doctor clarified. ‘We only have the preliminary results—it’ll be another five days before the full report is available—but the signs are good.’ The doctor smiled. ‘But, sim, I am confident all is well.’

  Jasper leaned towards the statuesque white-coated woman. ‘So you don’t think Katherine has cancer?’

  ‘That is correct.’

  With a whoop, Imogen hugged her aunt, though she was careful not to hug her too tight in case Katherine was still sore from her biopsy. ‘Best news ever!’

  She turned back to find that Jasper had seized George from his stroller and was holding him aloft like some kind of victory trophy. George loved every moment of it, squealing and kicking his legs.

  Katherine seized the doctor’s hand and pumped it up and down. ‘Thank you so much, Doctor. I can’t thank you enough.’

  ‘It will be thanks enough, minha amiga, if you keep up to date with your mammograms and promise to make an appointment with your doctor if anything ever again gives you cause for concern.’

  ‘I’ve learned my lesson. So... I can go now?’

  The doctor consulted Katherine’s chart. ‘I’m afraid not. Mr Coleman has booked you in for a complete medical check. But you should be done by four o’clock this afternoon.’

  Katherine turned to Jasper as soon as the doctor left and raised an eyebrow. Imogen did her best not to think about how she and Jasper would survive another day in each other’s company.

  Not after he’d kissed her. And then acted like a jerk. When prior to that he’d been...

  She swallowed. When he’d been every dream she hadn’t known she’d wanted. He’d been kind and fun, warm and witty, he’d made her laugh when she hadn’t thought that possible. He’d given both her mind and her hands something to do, and while that hadn’t rid her of worry for Katherine, it had made it bearable.

  Until he’d kissed her, that was. She’d forgotten everything then—Katherine, George, herself. The kiss had been perfect.

  Until it wasn’t.

  ‘Imogen, help me out here.’

  She snapped back to find an exasperated Katherine staring at her. She’d missed the beginning of the conversation, but she could guess it. ‘What’s the harm in getting the tests done, Auntie Kay? Mum’s wishing she’d gone for an eye test earlier.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘It’s only another six or so hours. I’m happy to hang here and keep you company.’

  She didn’t want to spend another moment with Jasper, thank you very much. Their stilted conversation and taut silences were wearing on her nerves. After yesterday’s kiss he’d retreated with so much unholy speed it’d left her feeling tainted
and ugly. And stupid.

  It shouldn’t matter so much. It shouldn’t hurt so much. But it did.

  Katherine blew out an exasperated breath. ‘Fine, I’ll have the tests, but I don’t want either one of you hanging around the hospital. Go out and see the sights. Have fun.’

  Ha! Fun and Jasper no longer went together in the same sentence.

  Jasper cleared his throat. ‘I actually have some work I need to do.’

  He didn’t look at her as he spoke.

  ‘Work when you get home,’ Katherine protested. ‘You and Imogen should go enjoy yourselves.’

  ‘That’s okay, Jasper doesn’t need to act as my tour guide,’ Imogen inserted in her most cheerful voice—so bright it bounced off the walls like a shiny new ten-cent piece. ‘What I’d really like to do today is hit the shops. I want to buy souvenirs for everyone back home. I was reading about a market that’s under one of the art galleries and it sounds fab—I’m hoping to pick up some pretty, locally made jewellery, maybe find a fabric store or two. I doubt it’d be Jasper’s thing.’

  ‘I’d be happy to accompany you.’

  But he said it with such a lack of enthusiasm it made even Katherine roll her eyes. Imogen did her best to stop her insides from shrivelling. ‘Not necessary. And I’m happy to take George so you can concentrate on your work.’ George would be a welcome distraction.

  ‘I can manage.’ He set George back in his stroller.

  She folded her arms. ‘You know he hates being cooped up inside all day.’

  His eyes flashed. ‘So I’ll take him to the park.’

  Ha! So he wasn’t as cool and reserved as he’d like her to think.

  Katherine glanced from one to the other, and Imogen immediately curbed her impulse to get another rise out of him. It was childish. And it’d only make her feel better in the short-term. It’d be best to do what he was doing—put him out of her mind completely. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer a bit of company, Auntie Kay?’