of his nose. After a brief pause, he lifted his head and Darby saw the determination on his face, the assertiveness in his eyes. There was something superhot about an alpha male doing his thing...
Judah nodded to the closed door of the ballroom.
“I’m going to go back in there to accept this damn commission. Rossi, you are going to take the baby with you and you will call me and we will arrange a suitable time to meet and discuss Carla’s insanity. Do not ambush me again.” That dark blue gaze scraped over her and he shook his head. “You, I have no idea who you are but if you’d kindly give the kid back, we can all go on with our lives.”
His tone suggested that he wasn’t interested in hearing any arguments and when no one spoke, he turned around and walked back into the ballroom, the board member following closely behind. Darby heard the audience’s roar of applause and looked down at the little girl in her arms.
She had Judah’s nose and the shape of his eyes and Darby could see the hint of Judah’s shallow dimple in the baby’s left cheek. Like his, the baby’s hair was dark, her sweet brows strong. She was utterly perfect and those deep dark eyes—brown, not blue—looked up at Darby’s, content to suckle on her pinkie.
She was, possibly, the most beautiful baby Darby had ever seen and as she’d been obsessed by babies for longer than was healthy, she’d seen more than a lot. This little girl looked like what she was, the offspring of two boundlessly beautiful people.
Before his death, Darby’s father had been a well-known Boston businessman and her parents had been, at one time, the heart of Boston society, so she’d had a taste of fame. But Huntley and his ex-girlfriend were famous on an entirely different level. Carla, an exciting, lushly beautiful, stunningly wealthy opera-singing heiress, had millions of social media followers and was tabloid gold. Thanks to his talent, his stupidly sexy body, and his penchant for dating models and actresses, Judah was also a media golden boy.
They might be famous, but Darby wasn’t impressed by either of the little girl’s parents right now.
How could Carla just shove her child out of her life, pass her on like she was an unwanted package? And why hadn’t Judah stepped up? Didn’t they realize that a child was a gift, indescribably precious? What was wrong with these people?
Had the world gone mad?
The baby burped and then her face scrunched up, her eyes closing. Darby had enough experience to know that the little girl was about to fill her diaper. The telltale smell wafted up and Darby half smiled. Yep, there it was.
Darby looked up and saw the two lawyers grimace in immediate expressions of distaste.
“She needs changing,” Darby stated just in case they hadn’t made the connection between the smell and the problem.
Identical looks of horror and two steps back. “No! No, no, no!”
The baby squirmed in Darby’s arms and let out a wail loud enough to be heard in Fenway Park. Okay, time to go.
The baby was stunningly cute and too adorable for words, but Darby had come here to work. It wasn’t a surprise that Huntley had been awarded the project, but Darby knew there were lots of well-heeled socialites in that room with money to burn. Some of them might want a summer place designed or a house renovated.
Business had been a bit slow lately and she needed a new, lucrative project. She also needed to finish the renovations to two small apartment buildings she owned in Back Bay and get them on the market, but she knew it might take some time to sell them at the price she wanted.
Thank God she was due her quarterly dividend check from Winston and Brogan tomorrow; that was the money she’d allocated to her IVF fund. With that money and any she managed to save over the next four months, she could have the procedure in five months’ time. At the thought, her stomach churned, then burned.
Unlike Huntley and his ex, she wanted a child.
Didn’t she?
The two Europeans exchanged a long look as if they were silently arguing about who was going to do the honors of changing the little girl. They both looked horrified.
“I need to get going,” Darby said.
A charming smile crossed the lawyer’s face. “The nanny we hired to look after Jacquetta since we left Italy has been dismissed. Could you change her since neither of us knows how?”
“What makes you think I do?” Darby asked.
Mr. Slick just shrugged, and Darby knew she was being played. It had been years since she’d changed a diaper, but she’d looked after babies as a teenager. She was sure it was like riding a bike; one didn’t just forget. And God, if she left little Jacquetta—goodness, what a mouthful—in their hands, the kid would be more miserable than she was now. It was one diaper, Darby could deal.
Darby held out her hand for the bag draped over the lady’s shoulder. Darby would change Jacquetta—Jac—make up a bottle for the little girl and send them on their way. There was no doubt she’d remember this encounter for the rest of her life: hot guy, cute kid, drama...
“There’s a baby room just around the corner.” Darby jerked her head at the woman. “You’re coming with me.”
“Perché?”
Why? Jeez, these people were seriously whacked. “Because you don’t just hand over a baby to a stranger, that’s why.”
Mr. Slick smiled at her. “The corridor ends just beyond the restroom so there is nowhere to take little Jacquetta. If you wanted to steal her, you’d have to pass by us. And we’ll be here waiting.”
Darby frowned, unease crawling across her skin.
“Besides, this is one of the best hotels in Boston, there are cameras everywhere.” Mr. Slick winced as Jacquetta’s cries escalated in volume.
Dammit. She was going to do this.
Darby started to walk down the hallway. Feeling eyes on her, she looked back. Her gut was screaming at her that their expressions were too bland, that she was being played. How the hell had she ended up in this situation?
Then Jac released a high-pitched scream and Darby looked down, her heart hurting over the little girl’s distress. The baby, defenseless and innocent, had to come first. Darby would change her and make up a bottle, maybe give her a little cuddle and then Darby would hand her back.
Her life would go back to normal in ten minutes.
Darby walked down the corridor, her hand tapping Jac’s little bottom, unable to resist dropping a kiss on the baby’s curly head. In the baby changing room, Darby laid Jac on the soft changing table and looked down into the little girl’s exquisite face.
“Should I have one just like you?”
Jac, being no more than nine months old, didn’t have a clue.
Little Jac sucked her bottle as Darby walked back down the hallway, her shoulders aching from the unaccustomed weight of holding a baby and a seriously heavy baby bag. The baby was clean and happy, and Darby could hand her over and go back to her life.
Except
