The Executive's Baby

by Robin Wells

  “No.”

  “I’ll bring one over.”

  “Thanks, Rachel.” The relief in his voice was almost palpable. “I really appreciate this. I would have called Mrs. Evans, but she’s gone to Tucson to visit their daughter for the weekend.” He hesitated a moment. “I hope I’m not ruining your evening.”

  Ruining it? No, you’re making it. There was no place on earth Rachel would rather be than with Nick and Jenny, but given Nick’s aversion to commitment, she didn’t dare tell him that.

  “I’ll get there as soon as I can,” she told him.

  Hanging up the phone, she quickly tossed a few things into an overnight bag and headed to her car.

  When she arrived at Nick’s house half an hour later, he opened the door before she could even knock. He’d evidently been waiting by the window, Jenny in his arms, watching for her. The anxious look on his face touched her heart.

  “How’s Jenny?” she asked.

  “See for yourself.”

  The baby whimpered and reached out her arms to Rachel. Placing her purse and a white plastic shopping bag on the hall table, Rachel took the child from Nick, murmuring soft endearments.

  “She does feel warm.” Rachel settled the baby in her arms and looked down at her worriedly. The child’s cheeks were vivid pink, but the rest of her face seemed unnaturally pale. Her usually bright eyes looked glazed and listless. Rachel stroked the child’s downy blond hair. “Hello there, sweetie. You’re not feeling very well, are you?”

  The baby snuggled against Rachel’s shoulder and whimpered.

  Rachel nodded toward the white bag on the table. “I stopped at an all-night drugstore and picked up a thermometer. Let’s go in the living room and take her temperature.”

  The way the color drained from Nick’s face made Rachel give him a reassuring smile. “We’ll put the thermometer under her arm.”

  Nick let out a sigh of relief and picked up the bag. “Glad to hear it.”

  Rachel led the way to the beige sofa. Nick rummaged through the bag, pulled out the thermometer and extricated it from its packaging. Rachel shook it down, then gently unfastened the back of the child’s pink-and-white one-piece sleeper and placed the thermometer under Jenny’s arm.

  “That wasn’t anywhere near as bad as I thought it was going to be,” Nick remarked.

  Rachel smiled as she held the thermometer in place. “When did Jenny get sick?”

  “She started getting fussy after we dropped you off. At first I thought she was just unhappy that you’d left. She always hates to see you go, you know.”

  The information made Rachel’s throat thicken. She tightened her arms around the baby.

  “But she just kept getting worse. She wouldn’t eat dinner, she didn’t want a bottle and she started pulling on her ears. Then she started shivering during her bath.”

  Rachel pulled the thermometer out from under the baby’s arm and turned it carefully. “One hundred and three,” she announced.

  “Wow. That’s awfully high, isn’t it?”

  “It’s pretty high,” Rachel agreed. “But babies tend to run high temperatures.”

  “I’d better call the nurse back and see what she recommends we do.” Nick crossed the room and dialed the pediatrician’s number. After a brief conversation with the nurse, he turned back to Rachel.

  “She said we need to give her some baby acetaminophen and ibuprofen.”

  “I picked up some of both at the drugstore. They’re in the bag.”

  Nick shook his head in amazement. “What are you, a former Girl Scout? You’re always prepared.”

  Rachel grinned back. “What else did the nurse say?”

  “She wants us to take Jenny to the doctor’s office at nine in the morning.”

  Rachel raised her eyebrows in surprise. “The office is open on Sundays?”

  Nick nodded. “Only for an hour.”

  “Well, thank heavens she doesn’t have to wait until Monday,” Rachel said.

  “The nurse said we need to keep an eye on Jenny’s fever tonight. If it goes over one hundred and four, we’ll need to put her in tepid bathwater and try to cool her off.”

  We. The word hung in the air. The way Nick so naturally included her in his plans to care for Jenny sent a surge of warmth racing through Rachel’s veins.

  He, too, seemed to notice his odd choice of words. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away. “I, uh, don’t mean I expect you to stay.”

  Rachel hugged Jenny to her chest. “I’d like to. I brought an overnight bag just in case.”

  She thought she saw a flicker of relief cross his eyes. “Good. Jenny will feel better with you around.” The brief look he cast her made her heart jump like a jackrabbit. “I will, too.”

  Rachel gazed at the alarm clock at her bedside. Three o’clock. She and Nick had agreed to take turns checking Jenny every two hours and she’d set her bedside alarm accordingly, but so far she hadn’t needed it. Just being in the same house with Nick was enough to keep her fully awake.

  Tossing back the covers, she grabbed her thin cotton robe and padded down the hall to the nursery, only to discover Nick standing over the baby’s crib, wearing only a pair of pajama bottoms.

  She self-consciously folded her arms over her chest, her thoughts flying back to the last time they’d found themselves awake in the middle of the night, clad only in their nightclothes. “I—I didn’t expect to find you up.”

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  Rachel nodded. “How is she?”

  Nick frowned. “I don’t know. I think she’s hot. And her breathing sounds kind of fast and shallow.”

  Stepping beside Nick, Rachel reached over the crib railing and felt the baby’s forehead. “You’re right. I’ll get the thermometer.”

  Rachel returned to the nursery to find Nick in the rocking chair, holding the baby against his bare chest. “She doesn’t look good,” Nick said, his brow wrinkled with worry. “She seems kind of limp and glassy-eyed.”

  “Fever will do that to a baby,” Rachel said. Gently unfastening Jenny’s sleeper, Rachel tucked the thermometer under the baby’s arm. “She’s due for another dose of Tylenol. I’ll go get it while you take her temperature.”

  Rachel hurried to the bathroom, measured out the dosage in a medicine dropper, then returned and gave it to the listless baby. Two minutes later, her heart sank as she read the number on the thermometer. “One hundred and four and three-tenths.”

  Nick’s eyes darkened and a nerve flexed in his jaw. “We’d better get her in the bathtub, then.”

  Rachel nodded. “I’ll go draw the water.”

  Nick carried in the sick child, and together they gently removed her pajamas. “She’s limp as a rag doll,” Rachel said worriedly.

  Nick nodded, his forehead furrowing. “I don’t think she can sit up in the water by herself. I’d better get in with her.”

  “O-Okay. I’ll wait outside.”

  “Please stay.” He looked at her, his eyes pleading. “I intend to keep my pants on, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  Rachel felt her face heat. She turned away, busying herself with a towel, wanting to hide the fact that she had, in fact, been concerned about that very thing.

  She nodded, self-consciously clearing her throat. “I’ll hold Jenny while you climb in.”

  Nick carefully passed the infant to Rachel. The feel of the hot child, limp and helpless in her arms, made her heart ache with worry.

  Nick stepped into the shallow water and settled himself in the tub, his long legs bent high. He reached out his arms for Jenny.

  “Okay. Hand her over.”

  Leaning forward, Rachel carefully passed the child to Nick.

  Jenny’s weak, mewling whimpers as she slid into the water were far fainter than her usual hearty cries. Her blond curls and milky skin stood in vivid contrast to the dark, springy hair on Nick’s tanned chest. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he murmured softly. “Daddy’s right here with
you.”

  Rachel’s heart swelled in her chest until she thought it might burst. She’d never loved him more than she did at this moment.

  She’d never loved anyone the way she loved Nick. And she was suddenly sure, with a soul-deep certainty, that she’d never love a man this way again. He was the one, the only one, who could ever touch her so profoundly.

  And she loved Jenny, too. Kneeling beside the tub, Rachel picked up a washcloth and gently sponged the child’s face and neck, her throat thick with emotion.

  She loved being here with them both, loved feeling like a family, loved sharing their lives in good times and bad.

  Maybe especially in bad times. Because that was when she was needed the most.

  The problem was, Nick didn’t want to need anyone, didn’t want to depend on anyone except himself. He’d spent his childhood chafing under the restrictive rules of his father, and he was determined to never let anyone control his life again. He saw need as a weakness, commitment as a loss of control.

  What he didn’t see yet was the joy of being needed, the sweetness of a life that is shared. But he was starting to discover it with Jenny.

  Rachel swallowed hard around the lump in her throat.

  “How long do you think we need to stay in here?” Nick asked. “Jenny is shivering.”

  “A little while longer,” Rachel said. “Let’s try distracting her.”

  Nick picked up the toy rubber duck perched on the side of the tub and tried to interest her in it, but the baby just continued her pathetic crying.

  “Hey, Jenny,” Nick crooned softly. “We’re going to get you all well, then guess what? In a few weeks, we’re going to the beach. You’ll love it there. You can crawl in the sand and pick up shells. It’ll be warm and sunshiny, and the water will be cool and blue. I’ll hold you up in the water and you can ride the waves. It’ll be great.”

  The baby continued to whimper. Nick sighed. “It’s no use. I don’t have the soothing effect on her that you do. Would you try singing to her?”

  “Sure. She loves ‘The Itsy Bitsy Spider.’”

  Rachel lifted her voice in the familiar tune and was gratified when Jenny turned to listen. Rachel sang the entire song, complete with hand gestures, all the way through three times.

  “The water’s starting to get uncomfortably cold,” Nick remarked.

  “Then it’s probably time to get out.”

  Rachel grabbed a towel off the towel bar and reached for the child. Nick passed Jenny to her, then climbed to his feet. The way his dripping pajama pants clung to his thighs made Rachel’s mouth go dry.

  Averting her gaze, Rachel wrapped the baby in the towel. “I’ll get her dressed while you dry off and change,” she said.

  “Okay.”

  Nick joined them in the nursery a few minutes later, clad in a T-shirt and dry sweatpants. He found Jenny dressed in fresh jammies, sitting in Rachel’s lap in the rocking chair. “Her fever’s down two degrees,” Rachel announced.

  A rush of relief pulsed through Nick. “Thank heavens.”

  They gave her a bottle of juice, then took turns reading stories. Thirty minutes later, Jenny was fast asleep in Rachel’s arms. Moving carefully to keep from waking the child, Rachel took the child’s temperature one last time. “The medicine’s taken effect,” she whispered. “Her temperature’s under a hundred.”

  “Can we put her back to bed?”

  Rachel nodded. Rising slowly, she carefully carried the baby to the crib and gently set her on the mattress. Jenny moved, but didn’t awaken. Rachel carefully tucked a light blanket around the baby as Nick stood beside her and watched.

  He reached out his hand and stroked the baby’s soft cheek. His heart swelled with an emotion he’d never known. “Good night, sweetheart,” he whispered.

  He followed Rachel into the hall and down to the darkened sitting area. Moonlight filtered through the window, filling the room with a mellow glow. “Whew!” he said softly.

  Their eyes met, and she nodded. “You can say that again.”

  Nick gazed at her, his heart full of an odd, sweet emotion, ambrosial and fragrant as night jasmine. “Thanks for your help. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  “You were wonderful.” She looked at him, her eyes warm. “You’re a terrific father.”

  Nick blew out a sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. “I was so worried. She looked so pathetic—so sick and small and limp....”

  “I know.”

  “I’m really glad you were here with me.”

  Her eyes shone softly in the moonlight. “I’m glad I was, too.”

  His heart felt hot and tight, ablaze with gratitude and relief and something he couldn’t quite name. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to pull her into his arms. And once he had, the next natural thing was to kiss her.

  He knew it was a mistake the moment his mouth met hers. Her lips were warm and silky and urgent, and so was her body under the thin cotton of her robe. He heard the catch of her breath, and felt her heart thunder against his chest.

  Or maybe it was his own; he was holding her so close, he could scarcely tell where he ended and Rachel began. He pulled her even closer, one hand around her waist, the other in her hair, his fingers sifting through the silky strands, inhaling the sweet, subtle woman scent that was hers and hers alone.

  She overloaded his senses, like a warm night in the tropics. She was everything that he could imagine ever wanting. And dear Lord, how he wanted her—all of her, the whole of her, every secret, sacred part of her.

  “Nick,” she breathed against his cheek, her breath warm and damp. “Nick...”

  The breathless, urgent way she moved against him spoke more eloquently than any words she could have uttered. Her robe fell open, and the hard pearl buttons of her short pink nightgown bit enticingly into his chest.

  Desire, thick and hot, throbbed through him. The master bedroom was mere feet away. Bending abruptly, he swept her off her feet, one hand under her knees, the other under her back, and carried her to the large, draped bed.

  She pulled him down with her as he eased her onto the rumpled covers. His mouth slid from her lips to the slender column of her neck, then down to the pulse point in her throat. He worked the tiny pearl buttons of her nightgown free, pushed aside the pale fabric, and claimed a dimpled nipple. The small bud hardened and flowered in his mouth as she moaned with pleasure.

  “Nick,” she murmured. The blood thundered through his brain as she moved beneath him, raising a roaring din in his soul.

  Rachel was in his bed, hot and hungry and eager. He could have her as he’d always wanted her. He could brand her soul, he could mark her heart, he could claim her as his own. And if he did, he would no longer be tormented by the thought of her with another man, because he knew that if Rachel loved him in this way, she would love him in every way. If she gave him her heart, she would give it for keeps.

  Which was the very reason he had to stop. The thought forced its way through his passion-fogged brain like an intrusive beam of light

  He had to stop. Rachel was a forever kind of woman, and he didn’t believe in forever.

  He pulled back. She reached out and tried to draw him close again, but he stiffened his arms, holding himself away. He pushed up and sat on the edge of the bed. “This is a mistake,” he grunted.

  “No, it’s not. It’s what we both want.”

  She wasn’t making it easy. It took every ounce of his willpower to haul himself to his feet “Well, it’s a bad idea. If we take things any further, we’ll regret it in the morning.”

  “I won’t.” Her voice was just as soft and sure as it had been two years ago. It wrenched the depths of his heart.

  He risked a glance at her, then wished he hadn’t. Her face was luminous in the moonlight, her eyes shining like sapphires. Her unbuttoned gown fell open as she rose from the bed, exposing the deep valley between her breasts.

  He turned away, knowing all of his resistance
would evaporate if she touched him again. “Well, I would,” he growled. “Now go back to your room and get some sleep.”

  “Is that what you’re going to do?”

  “Hell, no. I’m going to take a cold shower. And I better not find you still in my bed when I get out.”

  He strode through the bathroom door, yanked it shut behind him, then, for good measure, he turned the lock. He didn’t really think Rachel would follow him in here—but then, he never would have thought Rachel would have kissed him so heatedly in public, or acted like such a seductress in private. He was discovering all sorts of new and disturbing facets to her personality.

  He couldn’t help but wonder who else was making the same discoveries. He hadn’t questioned her about her whereabouts this evening because he hadn’t been sure he could deal with the answer.

  Heaving a huge sigh, he stripped off his clothes, stepped into the shower and turned the cold water on full blast.

  Chapter Nine

  When Rachel walked into the Barrington break room Monday afternoon, it was empty except for a table occupied by Olivia and Patricia.

  “Olivia just told me you spent most of the weekend with Nick,” Patricia said excitedly. “What happened?”

  Rachel had been asking herself the same thing. Inserting several jangling coins in the soda machine, Rachel punched her selection, picked up the can and headed to the table. Pulling the tab, she sat down between Olivia and Patricia and sighed. “Well, Jenny was sick and the nanny was out of town. So I spent Saturday night at Nick’s house helping him care for her, then went with them to the doctor’s office the next morning. Mrs. Evans came back Sunday afternoon and agreed to spend the night, so I went home.”

  “That’s not what I’m asking,” Patricia said impatiently. “I want to know what happened.” She leaned forward and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “You know—between you and Nick.”

  Rachel sighed. “For a moment, it looked like just about everything was going to happen.”

  “And then?” Patricia prompted.

  “And then...nothing.”

  “Nothing?” Olivia and Patricia queried simultaneously.

  “Less than nothing.” Rachel shook her head. “One minute, things were starting to get intense, and the next minute, they ground to a complete halt. After that, he gave me such a wide berth that you’d think I was leaking toxic chemicals.”