from her and did as she instructed, spreading it with one hand on the sofa where he’d put Casey to sleep earlier.
“Good,” Faye said from her safe distance at the end of the couch. “Open the wipes container and put it next to where you’ll be working, then lay him down on the towel and undo the snaps that run along the inside of the legs of his onesie.”
“Okay, that’s not so bad so far,” Piers said.
“Keep one hand on his tummy. It’s a good habit to get into so when he starts to wriggle more, or roll over, he’s less likely to fall and hurt himself.”
“How do you know this stuff?” Piers asked, doing what he was told and looking up at her. “Jokes aside, I didn’t see anything about baby wrangling in your résumé.”
Faye ignored the question. Of course she did. She wasn’t about to launch into the bleeding heart story of her tragic past. The last thing she wanted from Piers was pity.
The last thing? What about the first? a tiny voice tickled at the back of her mind.
There was no first, she told herself firmly.
“Now, do you see the tapes on the sides of his diaper? Undo them carefully and pull the front of the diaper down and check for—”
A string of expletives poured from Piers’s lips. “What on earth? Is that normal?”
Faye couldn’t help it. She laughed out loud. As if he knew exactly what she found so funny—and he probably did—Casey gurgled happily under Piers’s hand.
“I’m sorry,” she said, getting herself back under control. “I shouldn’t laugh. Yes, it’s entirely normal when a child is on a liquid-only diet. His gut is still very immature and doesn’t process stuff like an older child begins to. Watch out, though, don’t let his feet kick into it.”
She continued with her instructions, stifling more laughter as Piers gagged when it came to wiping Casey’s little bottom clean. But that was nothing compared to his reaction to the water fountain the baby spouted right before he got the clean diaper on.
Faye couldn’t quite remember when she had last enjoyed herself so much. Her usually suave and capable boss—the lady slayer, as they called him in the office—was all fingers and thumbs when it came to changing a baby.
Eventually the job was done and Piers sat back on his heels with a look of accomplishment on his face.
“You do realize you’re probably going to have to do this about eight to ten times a day, don’t you?” Faye said with a wicked sense of glee. “Including at night if he doesn’t sleep through yet.”
“You’re kidding me, aren’t you? That took me, how long?”
“Fifteen minutes. But then, you’re a newbie at this. You’ll get faster as you get used to it.”
“No way. There aren’t enough hours in a day.”
“What else were you planning to do with your time? It’s not like you were planning to work this week.”
“Entertain my guests, maybe?”
“If we can’t get out, they can’t get in,” Faye reminded him, ignoring the little clench in her gut at the thought.
She hated the idea of being trapped anywhere, even if it was in a luxury ten-bedroom lodge in the mountains.
“True, but I expect once the storm blows through we’ll have the phones back, mobiles if not the landline, and we can call someone to come and clear the road and retrieve your car.”
“And then I can head back home,” she said with a heartfelt sigh.
“And then you can head home,” Piers agreed. He balanced Casey standing on his thighs, smiling at him as Casey locked his knees and bore his weight for a few seconds before his legs buckled and he sagged back down again.
“Why do you hate Christmas so much, Faye?”
“I don’t hate it,” she said defensively.
“Oh, you do.”
Piers looked her square in the eye and Faye shifted a little under his penetrating gaze. Against the well-washed wool of the snowman sweater her bare nipples tightened and she felt her breath hitch in her chest.
No, she wasn’t attracted to him. He wasn’t at all appealing as he sat there wearing a mutant Rudolph sweater and cuddling a tiny baby on his lap as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The lights flickered again.
“I’d better find some flashlights. Where do you keep them?”
“In the kitchen, I suppose. Usually, Meredith takes care of all that,” he answered, referring to the housekeeper who’d been due to arrive this evening.
Overhead, the lights dimmed again before going right out. Faye shot to her feet.
“It’s dark!” she blurted unnecessarily.
“Let your eyes adjust. With the fire going we’ll be able to see okay in a minute,” Piers soothed her.
Faye felt inexplicably helpless and that was something she generally avoided at all cost. Not being in control or being able to direct the outcome of what was going on around her was the tenth circle of hell as far as she was concerned. Where was her mobile? She had a flashlight app she could use. Better yet, she could use Piers’s. His was undoubtedly closer.
“Give me your phone,” she demanded.
“No reception, remember?” he drawled.
She could just make out that he was still playing with the baby, who remained completely unfazed by this new development. Mind you, after being abandoned by your mother, facing a power outage was nothing by comparison in his little world.
“It has a flashlight function, remember?” she sniped in return.
Piers stood, reached into his pocket and handed her the phone.
It held the warmth of his body and she felt that warmth seep into the palm of her hand, almost as intensely as if he’d touched her. She swapped the phone into her other hand and rubbed her palm over the soft cotton of the track pants, but it did little to alleviate the little tingle that warmth had left behind. The realization made her exhale impatiently.
“Faye, they’ll get the power back on soon, don’t worry. Besides, I have a backup generator. I’ll get that going in a moment or two. In the meantime, relax—enjoy the ambience.”
Ambience? On the bright side, at least the Christmas lights were also out and the carols were no longer playing. Okay, she could do ambience if she had to.
“I’m not worrying, I’m making contingency plans. It’s what I do,” she replied.
After selecting the right app on his phone, she made her way into the kitchen and searched the drawers for flashlights. Uttering a small prayer of thanks that Meredith was such an organized soul that she not only had several bright flashlights but spare bulbs and
