“The day I helped bring their son into the world.”
Elbow on the table, Bailey rested her chin in the cup of her hand. “I bet you had everything prepared and everyone on their toes.”
“Quite the opposite. When she went into labor, we were at Alex’s beachside holiday house. It happened quickly.” He peered over toward the couple. Natalie’s cheek was resting on Alex’s shoulder now. “She’d miscarried years before. Alex was concerned for mother and child both.”
“But nothing went wrong?”
Mateo smiled across. “You saw Reece tonight.”
Bailey relaxed. “Perfect.”
“Alex had always longed for a son.”
“I suppose most men do,” she said, wondering if she’d get a reaction.
“Most men … yes.” Then, as if to put an end to that conversation, he stood and held out his hand. “Would you care to dance?”
Bailey’s throat closed. Perhaps she should have seen that coming but she was at a loss for words. Mateo looked so tall and heart-stoppingly handsome, gazing down at her with those dark, penetrating eyes. Eyes that constantly intrigued her. She wanted to accept his offer. Wanted the opportunity to know the answer to her earlier question—how it would feel to have his arms surround her. Here, in this largely neutral, populated setting, she could find out.
She placed her hand in his. That telling warmth rose again, tingling over her flesh, heating her cheeks and her neck. His eyes seemed to smile into hers as she found her feet and together they moved to the dance floor, occupied by other couples, some absorbed more in the song than their partner, others locked in each other’s arms and ardent gazes.
Bailey couldn’t stop her heart from hammering as Mateo turned and rested a hot palm low on her back while bringing their still-clasped hands to his lapel. Concentrating to level her breathing, she slid and rested her left hand over the broad slope of his shoulder at the same time the tune segued into an even slower, more romantic song and the lights dimmed a fraction more.
They began to move and instantly Bailey was gripped by the heat radiating from his body, burrowing into and warming hers. Her senses seemed heightened. She was infinitely aware of his thumb circling over the dip in her back. Her lungs celebrated being filled with his mesmerizing scent. Strangely, all the happenings around them faded into a suddenly bland background. When a corner of his mouth slanted—the corner with that small scar—her pulse rate spiked and her blood began to sizzle. She’d wanted to know. Now she did. Having Mateo’s arms around her—soothing and at the same time exciting her—was like being held by some kind of god.
“So you’ll be working for Natalie’s agency?”
“While I was dressing—make that redressing—Natalie explained they’d lost three cleaners in the past couple of weeks.”
“You don’t mind the work?”
“I’m grateful for it. And it won’t be forever.”
He grinned. “Sounds as if you’re making plans.”
Seeing her father today cemented what she’d already come to realize. Education was the key to independence. “I’m going to apply to college.”
“Do you know what you’ll study? Teaching? Nursing?”
“Maybe I should become a doctor,” she joked. “Dr. Bailey Ross. Neurosurgeon.” She laughed and so did he, but not in a condescending way. “I want to do something that makes people happy,” she went on. “That makes them feel good about themselves.”
“Whatever you choose I’m sure you’ll do well.”
“Because you know I’m an A student, right?”
“Because I think you have guts. Persistence will get you most places in life.”
Unless you were talking about her father. The more she’d tried, the more he’d turned his back. Cut her off. There came a time when a person needed to accept they should look forward rather than back.
But then she retraced her thoughts back to Mateo’s words—I think you have guts. She gave him a dubious look. “Was that another compliment?”
A line cut between his brows. “Tell you what. We’ll make a deal. I promise not to mention the money you owe Mama in a derogatory way if you promise something in return. It has to do with my vacation.”
She couldn’t think what. Except maybe, “You want me to house sit?”
“I want you to come with me to France.”
Bailey’s legs buckled. When she fell against him, bands of steel stopped her from slipping farther. But the way her front grazed against his, his help only made her sudden case of weakness worse.
Siphoning down a breath, she scooped back some hair fallen over her face. “Sorry. Did you just say you want me to go to France with you?”
“I got the impression you hadn’t seen Paris.”
“I was saving it for last. I never got there.”
His smile flashed white beneath the purple lights. “Now’s your chance.”
She took a step back but more deep breaths didn’t help. She cupped her forehead.
“Mateo, I’m confused.”
He brought her near again and flicked a glance over his shoulder at the couple dancing nearby. “Blame Alex. He suggested it.”
She tried to ignore the delicious press of his body, the masculine scent of his skin, the way his hard thigh nudged between hers as he rotated them around in a tight circle. “You know I don’t have money for a ticket to Europe.” Her jaw hardened. “And I won’t take any more charity.”
“Even if you’d be doing me a favor, keeping me company?” His dark gaze, so close, roamed her face. “One good turn deserves another.”
“That’s not fair.”
His mouth turned into a solemn line. “There wouldn’t be any conditions.”
Bailey blinked. Maybe because he was Mama’s grandson, she hadn’t considered he might be trying to buy more than her company.
With the lights slowly spinning and couples floating by, oxygen burned in her lungs while she tried to come up with an appropriate reply to a question that had knocked her for a loop. After an agonizingly long moment, she felt the groan rumble in his chest and his grip on her hand loosen.
“You’re right,” he said. “Crazy idea.”
“It’s not that I wouldn’t like to go.” She’d always wanted to see Paris. It was her biggest disappointment that she’d planned to save France for last rather than enjoying that country first. “But I’ve just got back,” she explained. “I’m starting that job Monday.” She finished with the obvious excuse. “We don’t know each other.”
