THREE
AFTER only five minutes, Bella fell asleep on Claire’s arm.
“I think we should go back to the den so we can lay her down while we look for the crib and high chair.”
“I can do all this from my phone, if you don’t mind looking at this little screen together?”
Their gazes caught. A picture popped into her brain. Them, huddled together, looking at his phone. Her heart would shiver. She’d probably get breathless. All because her hormones had a mind of their own.
“I think the computer in the den is a better idea.”
Carrying Bella, she followed him through two ornate rooms, both of which could have been formal living rooms, but at this point she was beginning to see her understanding of houses and architecture was incredibly limited.
Walking to the den, she saw more crystal chandeliers, oriental rugs, hardwood floors and art—everything from paintings to sculptures, vases and blown glass—than she’d seen in her entire lifetime.
She glanced around uneasily. “How do you live in here?”
He opened the door and they walked into the overly neat den. “How do I live where?”
“In a house that’s more like a showplace than a house.”
“Because of rooms like this,” he said, passing the sofa, leading her to the desk with the computer.
She frowned. If he considered this room to be normal, comfortable, he was in worse shape than she’d thought.
He stopped suddenly. “You wanted to lay the baby down.”
She pointed at the sofa still holding the blanket from the diaper change. “We just need another blanket to cover her.”
He nodded and headed off. She sat on the sofa, Bella sleeping on her lap. Her little pink blouse and baby jeans snuggly fit her healthy body. Her fine, dark hair peaked in little tufts. Her black lashes sat on her cheeks.
In her high school and early college daydreams, Claire had always seen herself as having her own baby by now. And a house. With a wonderful, loving husband who wouldn’t work all the time the way her father had. Somebody who’d be home for happy suppers and cozy nights with a storybook to read to their baby.
She snorted a quiet laugh. Yet another reason not to be attracted to Matt Patterson. He might be more outgoing than her quiet, quiet father, but he was cut from the same cloth. Work was his sport of choice. Money was the way he kept score. That was probably why he’d so quickly changed his mind about a nanny. Ten minutes in the car with Bella and he’d probably seen how much caring for her would interfere with his life.
Not that she was complaining. As nice as it would be for him to care for Bella himself, a clueless man needed a nanny. Still, it would be wonderful if he did get into the habit of spending a little time with Bella so she wouldn’t be as alone as Claire had been as a child.
She swallowed back the lump of sadness and regret that clogged her throat. How she’d longed for a little of her dad’s time and attention after her mother died. The lonely days and nights she’d spent flashed to her mind. Nights when she and her businessman father “shared” dinner but didn’t speak. Nights when she’d yearned to be tucked in her bed and kissed on the forehead, but never was. Pouring cold cereal for herself for breakfast. Coming home to a quiet house with a maid who didn’t like children.
Empathy for Bella rumbled through her. She hoped Matt Patterson wouldn’t be a cold, distant dad, but the odds were once he got a nanny he’d slip away. He’d only have contact with the baby when he absolutely needed to. Not because he was bad, but because he didn’t know how to be a dad.
He walked into the room, carrying the blanket. “Here you go.”
Claire laid Bella on the blanket already on the sofa. When Matt handed the second blanket to her, she opened it enough that it could easily cover the baby.
“There.”
“She’s okay there?”
“We’ll watch her from the desk. But I think she’s fine.”
“Okay.”
With Bella sleeping soundly on the sofa, Matt led Claire to the computer and took the seat in front of it. She stood looking at the screen over his shoulder.
But soon tiredness set in. She’d left the office at four. The drive to Matt’s estate had been at least an hour. They’d probably spent another hour changing Bella, feeding her, ordering her food. This on top of a full day’s work—and a night of walking the floor with a baby who missed her mom.
She eased her hip to the desk, but Matt’s gaze slid over to her rounded bottom. Tingles of awareness floated through her, along with a complication. All this time she’d thought she was just attracted to him….What if he was attracted to her, too?
He probably wasn’t, but just in case, she slid off again.
It wasn’t long before her legs pulled at her. She’d been in heels for over ten hours. She eyed his chair longingly, then her gaze caught the sturdy leather arm. Thickly padded and wide, it could accommodate her weight.
Plus, he’d really have to twist and turn to see her butt, her legs, any part of her, because she wouldn’t be beside him. She’d be slightly behind him.
Casually, carefully, she eased herself onto the chair’s arm. Her feet sighed with relief.
Then her arm brushed his soft silk shirt, she smelled the masculine scent of his shampoo and tingles of electricity shot straight to her middle.
She almost groaned.
He faced her and their gazes connected. Looking into his pretty green eyes made her breathless—but also suddenly curious. He was gorgeous, yet not taken. He had money enough to attract any woman he wanted, yet he lived alone—
Of course, his bossiness probably turned most women off.
So why wasn’t it working for her?
They found the product numbers for a crib, high chair, baby monitor and swing. She eased herself from his chair and sat on the sofa, by Bella, as he made a few calls.
Bella began to cry, so she lifted her to her lap. The baby rubbed her tired eyes, clearly feeling the effects of four sleepless nights.
When Matt hung up the phone, Claire said, “So how long until we get the crib?”
“An hour at most.”
That surprised her so much she smiled. He was quite the optimist. “Really?”
He rose and headed for the door. “Yes. Give me ten minutes to talk to Jimmy.”
“Jimmy?”
“My driver. He’ll be the one assembling everything…since I assume cribs and high chairs don’t come assembled.”
“Probably not.”
“Then
