by Gina Wilkins
“What?”
“Are you by any chance free to baby-sit tomorrow? I have flight school to teach in the morning and two lessons to give tomorrow afternoon.”
She gaped at him. “You’re asking me to baby-sit so you can go to work? After all we just said?”
“I’d certainly appreciate it I thought about asking Madelyn to help, but she takes care of her invalid mother on the weekends, and I’m not sure she can handle both the baby and her mother. I could ask my neighbor, but again I worry about the explanations I’d have to make.”
Casey let out a gusty sigh. “I can’t believe this.”
“Well, you did ask if there was anything you could do. If you have other plans, I understand...”
“I was planning to spend tomorrow at home catching up on paperwork. I suppose I could do some of it here.”
He smiled. “Sure you could.”
She frowned at him. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this. What time do you need me to be here?”
“Nine o’clock? Flight school starts at nine-thirty. That’ll give me just enough time to get to the airport. My last lesson’s at one, so I should be home by twothirty.”
She nodded. “Don’t dawdle getting back.”
She sounded like a schoolmarm. It was all Steve could do not to grin, but he knew when not to push his luck. “I won’t.”
She threw the strap of her purse over her shoulder and reached for the doorknob. “If you steal any of my clients tomorrow while I’m here baby-sitting for you, I swear I’ll skin you alive.”
“Now, Casey, just how low do you think I am?”
The look she gave him suggested she thought him somewhat lower than a snake’s belly. He didn’t take offense. Casey was feeling a little stressed right now, and she needed someone to blame. He supposed he made a handy target.
“You still have my number if you need me tonight? Or if you hear any more from Janice?”
He recited the number without referring to the paper she’d written it on earlier.
Casey grimaced. “I’m definitely changing my number first thing next week”
He laughed and traced her jaw with the fingertips of his right hand. “I don’t think that will be necessary. Thanks again for the stuff, Casey. And for helping out tomorrow.”
She left with a murmur he didn’t quite understand.
He was smiling when he shut the door behind her. He knew she’d convinced herself that she’d only dropped by because of the baby. But she wouldn’t have come and spent so much time with him if she really disliked him as much as she pretended—would she?
CASEY WAS ANNOYED to find herself touching her jaw with her left hand as she guided her steering wheel with her right. She could almost feel her skin tingling where Steve had caressed it—which was utterly ridiculous, of course.
She was not attracted to Steve Lockhart, she assured herself. Okay, so maybe she was a little, but that was only hormones. The natural reaction of a healthy, romance-deprived woman to a virile, extraordinarily good-looking male. She had no intention of acting on those unwelcome feelings. The only reason she’d chased him at the airport today was to yell at him for stealing her business. And the only reason she’d gone to his house this evening was to make sure the baby was all right.
As for why she’d agreed to spend tomorrow at his house so he could work, well...mark that off to temporary insanity. Even if she was attracted to Steve—a little attracted—there was no way on earth she was doing anything about it. The guy drove her crazy—and not just because he had dimples that flashed every time he grinned. Which was entirely too often for her peace of mind.
He was insolent Cocky. Lackadaisical. He seemed to have an almost pathological aversion to following rules. Take this present situation, for example. Any normal businessman would have freaked out at finding a newborn baby in his airplane. He’d have immediately contacted the police and washed his hands of the entire situation.
Not Steve. He’d taken the baby home and promised the troubled mother he would handle everything. Knowing nothing about babies, without any supplies or assistance, he’d made himself responsible. Any number of things could go wrong, but was he worried? He certainly didn’t act like it
A tiny voice inside her whispered that Steve was the kind of friend one could count on through thick and thin, someone whose loyalty far surpassed his own self-interests. Admirable in some ways, she supposed, but undeniably rash. She was no risktaker and never had been—until today, when Steve and his employees had made her feel like a heartless villain for even considering turning Annie over to child welfare services.
She drove into her garage and killed the engine of her sensible sedan. She was tired—close to exhaustion—but she doubted she would sleep a wink. She was far more likely to lie awake all night worrying about a troubled young mother and a baby whose fate lay in Steve Lockhart’s big, strong hands.
4
BY NINE O’CLOCK the next morning, Steve might have gotten five hours of sleep. Maybe. He wished someone had warned him that babies were nocturnal creatures whose idea of a long period of rest was a two-hour stretch. Judging from Annie’s behavior, babies slept in snatches, wanted to be fed and held whenever they were awake, were unable to tolerate a damp diaper for more than a few minutes, and seemed to enjoy testing just how much noise their tiny lungs could generate.
He thought of recent news reports of women who gave birth to six or eight babies at a time, and he wondered how the parents kept their sanity. Just one night with this one baby had exhausted him.
There was no way, of course, that he was going to let Casey know the night hadn’t been a snap. He was smiling when he opened the door to her. “Good morning, Casey. Did you sleep well?”
“Better than you did, apparently,” she replied, studying him with narrowed eyes. “Problems?”
So much for fooling her. He hadn’t realized she was quite so perceptive. “No, everything’s fine. Annie just doesn’t believe in getting all her sleep in one block. She likes to break it into two or three hour intervals—and I don’t go back to sleep as easily as she does.”
Casey walked past him into the entryway, her long hair swaying with her movements and making Steve aware of how nice she looked in her pale blue scoop-neck T-shirt and loose jeans. He rarely saw her dressed so casually. He liked it—but then he also liked seeing her in her prim working clothes.
“You’re sure you’re up to flying today?” she asked, breaking into his appreciative survey of her appearance. “You wouldn’t be dumb enough to go up with student pilots if you weren’t in top form, would you?”
“As much as I appreciate your confidence and your concern, Casey, darlin’, I’m fine. I don’t need a lot of sleep.”
She set down her purse and a bulging briefcase, then turned to look at him again. “You’ve had breakfast?”
“Coffee, orange juice, a bowl of cereal and a bagel.” He couldn’t resist reaching out to rub her cheek with his knuckles in a teasingly affectionate gesture. “Is that healthy enough to satisfy you?”
She almost stumbled in her haste to back away from him. “I’m only concerned about your students. They should have the security of an instructor who is well-rested and alert.”
“And they’ll have that security.” He wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or amused by her prissy tone. It seemed easier to settle for amusement, especially since she’d blushed so intriguingly when he’d touched her. “And did you have a good night’s rest and a nourishing breakfast? Trust me, you need to be in top shape for your day, as well.”
“I’m sure I can handle it Is Annie sleeping now?”
He nodded. “She’s in the bassinet in my room. She’ll let you know when she wants to get up. There are several filled bottles in the fridge—all you have to do is pop one in the microwave for about a minute. She likes her formula at about room temperature. Diapers are stacked on my dresser, next to her clean sleepers.”
She nodded. If she was nervous about b
aby-sitting for the day, she didn’t let it show. “What about Janice? Are you going to do anything about finding her today?”
“I’ll make a few calls when I get some extra time. I thought I’d ask the local hospitals if a Janice Gibson has checked in any time during the past week”
“Good idea. What about that P.I. friend you mentioned?”
“I thought we’d wait the rest of the day before we call him in. Janice is likely to show up at any time to pick up the baby, and I don’t want to get too many people involved unless it’s necessary.”
She looked worried, but nodded. “You’d better go or you’ll be late.”
“Help yourself to anything in the kitchen, okay? There are soft drinks and fruit juice in the refrigerator. And you should be able to find something for lunch.”
“I’ll manage. Now go. And come back as soon as you can. I have errands to run this afternoon.”
He wondered if her brusque tone was intended to mask her uncertainty about being responsible for little Annie for the next few hours. He had to give her credit for courage. He knew she was no more experienced with infants than he was, but she wasn’t letting her insecurity show.
Because he admired her nerve, and because he had wanted to for so very long, anyway, he stopped fighting the impulse to kiss her. He moved so quickly she didn’t have a chance to evade him, his mouth settling on hers before she could realize what he intended to do. And the kiss was as delicious as he’d always expected it to be—until Casey abruptly pulled back with a gasp.
Since she seemed unable to speak for the moment, he stepped back and said as casually as if he routinely kissed her goodbye, “I have to be going. Call if you need me.”
“I—don’t do that again!” she said, but he was already halfway out of the room and could pretend he hadn’t heard her.
It was with some reluctance that Steve left for the airport. As much as he enjoyed his work, he would rather have stayed home that day for the rare chance to spend time alone with Casey Jansen.
THE MINUTE CASEY HEARD Steve’s car leave the driveway, she sagged against the front door. He had kissed her! Without as much as a word of warning, he’d simply pulled her close and planted one on her—completely emptying her mind of coherent thought. What on earth had made him do that? And why on earth had it taken her so long to push him away?
What was she doing here, anyway? She wasn’t qualified to take care of a helpless infant! She was probably breaking laws and risking her professional reputation by conspiring with Steve to keep Janice’s actions quiet. And, most unbelievable of all, she was actually helping Steve compete against her business by baby-sitting today so he could go to work Now he probably thought she was doing so because his famous charm had gotten to her, rather than her own soft heart where Annie was concerned.
She could only assume that the shock of finding the baby had temporarily robbed her of her common sense.
She ran both hands through her hair, letting out a long, unsteady breath. Okay, she was here. Might as well get busy. She should probably check on the baby before setting up her laptop and paperwork. Anything to keep her busy, to keep her from remembering that staggeringly unexpected kiss.
Annie was sleeping, lying on her back in the pretty wicker bassinet, her pink face relaxed, her rosy mouth pursing in an occasional suckling motion. So tiny, Casey thought, her throat tightening. So totally dependent on the adults around her. What had Janice been thinking? What had driven her to this act of desperation? What was going to happen—to any of them?
But standing here worrying wasn’t accomplishing anything. She tiptoed out of the bedroom to the living room, picked up her briefcase and looked for a place to set up. In one corner of the casually-furnished room was a small, round oak table surrounded by four cushioned oak chairs—a corner she suspected had seen a few friendly poker games. She could have set up her computer in the kitchen or dining room, but she chose this table, instead. It was close to the hallway that led to the bedrooms, so she wouldn’t have to worry about not hearing Annie. And she was comfortable in this room.
She liked Steve’s house. She hadn’t paid much attention to it last night, being more concerned with Annie’s welfare and Janice’s whereabouts, but she had time now to look around a bit. Just superficially, of course—she was no snoop. He’d decorated with heavy oak furniture and nubby plaid fabrics, a masculine effect, but not overwhelmingly so. The artwork that graced his walls depicted wildlife scenes—flying ducks, grazing deer, prowling wolves.
The bedroom in which Annie was sleeping carried the same oak, plaid and wildlife theme. Casey was unable to resist taking a quick walk through the rest of the house before settling down to work. There were two spare bedrooms, one furnished very sparsely and looking as though it was rarely entered, the other apparently used as Steve’s home office, containing a desk, computer, fax, copy machine and several filing cabinets. She didn’t go into that room, telling herself that nothing in there was any of her concern.
The dining room was decorated with hunting prints and featured a Williamsburg chandelier over a maple dining table with six matching chairs. A bowfront china cabinet held gold-rimmed white china and gold-accented crystal glasses. Something about this room made Casey think of heirlooms. Had these things been passed down from Steve’s mother or grandmother? She hadn’t thought of him as the sentimental type, but considering his loyalty to his employees, she supposed he was.
The last room she glanced into was the kitchen with its oak cabinets, oak pedestal table and terra cotta tile floor. It was as comfortable and neat as she remembered it last night.
She wondered if someone had helped him decorate. Everything was so well coordinated—not fancy, but pleasantly harmonious. She probably would have changed a few things, of course. Toned down the wildlife theme, added a few frills and pillows. But the house seemed to reflect Steve’s personality—so well, in fact, that she felt his presence everywhere she turned. Which didn’t contribute to her peace of mind.
What was it about the guy that made just being in his house an unsettling experience? And if she was as indifferent to him as she’d always tried to be, why did just wandering through the rooms he lived in make her nerves go all tingly?
“Stop being ridiculous, Casey, and get to work,” she muttered.
She had just sat down at her computer when Annie woke up.
It was the last time she attempted to work that day.
STEVE HAD JUST FINISHED his second and final flying lesson and was locking his office in preparation to go home when a burly man approached from the nearly-empty parking lot. “I’m looking for the owner of this operation,” he said. “Is that you?”
Before answering, Steve took a moment to study the guy. He appeared to be in his late forties. His dark hair was slicked back from his broad face with too much gel, and his neck was so thick his ears seemed to blend into his wide shoulders. “I’m Steve Lockhart. What can I do for you?”
“I’m trying to find someone who might be an employee of yours. Her name is Janice Gibson.”
Steve managed not to react to the name except for lifting one eyebrow. “Janice Gibson?”
The guy nodded. “I’ve been told she works for you.”
Was this man the reason Janice was so afraid? Deciding to give away nothing until he knew exactly what was going on, Steve crossed his arms and eyed the other man dispassionately. “Janice Gibson was an employee for a few months, but she no longer works for me.”
“Did you fire her?”
“She quit.”
“When?”
Though he wasn’t usually the type to make snap judgments about people, Steve had already decided he didn’t like this guy. “Recently. I’m sorry, there’s nothing more I can tell you. I have no idea of Ms. Gibson’s present location.”
Which was the truth, of course. He saw no reason to mention the baby at this point.
“What about the other company she worked for here? Jansen Charter Service? Think anyone there
would know anything?”
“Casey Jansen and I talked about this only yesterday. She hasn’t heard from Janice, either. We’re both planning to hire someone to replace her early next week. We assume Janice has left the area.”
The guy looked at Steve suspiciously. “You’re sure you don’t know how to reach her?”
“No. I don’t.”
The sincerity in his voice must have been convincing. The other man’s frown deepened. “Hell.” After a moment, he pushed his hands into his pockets. “If you hear from her, will you let me know? My name’s Frank Claybrook and I’m staying at the Discount Inn on Ninth Street.”
“I don’t expect to hear from Janice, but if I do, why should I call you? What do you want with her?”
“Let’s just say it’s a family matter,” Claybrook answered flatly. “It’s very important that I find her.”
Steve shrugged, not at all swayed by the vague explanation. “I really can’t help you. She was just someone who cleaned my offices, not a personal friend.”
Claybrook hesitated a moment, then nodded curtly. “You know where to reach me if you hear anything. I’ll be there for a couple more days. By the way, there’s a chance of a nice reward for anyone who can lead me to her.”
No amount of reward could have enticed Steve to betray Janice—or anyone else to whom he’d pledged his loyalty. He merely glanced at his watch. “If you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment.”
Without a word, Claybrook stepped aside. Steve could feel the guy’s gaze on the back of his neck until he climbed into his car and drove away. Just to be on the safe side—and telling himself he was probably being paranoid—he made sure he wasn’t followed as he drove home.
After entering his house a half hour later, Steve took one look at Casey and decided that if he’d looked half as frazzled that morning, it was no wonder she’d known immediately about his rough night. She was pacing when he walked in, the baby on her shoulder, her formerly fresh clothes now wrinkled and disheveled. She’d kicked off her loafers, revealing pale blue socks that matched her T-shirt.