shoulder.
Whitney winced. “Do you still want to feed him?”
In spite of Gino’s screaming, Darius casually said, “Sure. But you’re going to have to tell me what to do.”
“Arrange him across your lap so that his head is supported by your forearm.”
Peeling crying Gino off his shoulder wasn’t an easy task. He stiffened his limbs and refused to settle on Darius’s lap.
Whitney handed him the bottle. “Here. Take this. Let him see the bottle is coming and he’ll calm down.”
With both hands busy with the baby, Darius didn’t have a clue how to take the bottle, but he secured Gino as best he could with one hand and managed to get the other free to take the bottle.
He would have criticized Whitney for not helping, except as soon as he had the bottle in his hand, Gino began to calm down.
“Now, just press the nipple to his lips and he’ll do the rest.”
To Darius’s complete amazement, as soon as he nudged the nipple against Gino’s lips he not only stopped crying, he also started suckling loudly.
He laughed with relief. “Wow. That was different.”
“Babies are different. They can’t talk so you have to understand their crying and sometimes watch their body language.”
“There’s a lot to learn.”
As Gino greedily gobbled his milk, Whitney walked away from the rocker and paced the room. Darius watched her for a few seconds, confused. She was in the room, but detached. Not like someone who didn’t want to help, but like … well, a stranger. That was when he realized she might not know Gino any more than he did.
“So why did Missy make you guardian?”
She faced him, her expression rye. “You mean aside from the fact that she wanted to make sure her baby had a female influence?”
He laughed. “Yes. Why you?”
“Missy and I were very close from university until the day she met your dad.”
“Really?”
“Her dad had left her mom before Missy was six, and her mom was an alcoholic who went in and out of rehab. Because she had money enough to have a maid, somebody who by default took care of Missy, no one ever realized how alone Missy was. So after we met, she began to come to my parents’ house with me on weekends and holidays.” She shrugged. “We were like sisters.”
“And then she met my dad and none of us saw either one of them again.”
She laughed sadly. “Missy really loved your dad.”
“And he loved Greece.”
“And that’s where they lived.”
They fell silent again. When the baby was done eating, he showed Whitney the empty bottle. “Now what?”
“Now you have to burp him.”
“Burp him?”
“You hold him like this,” Whitney said as she lifted Gino from Darius’s lap up to his shoulder. “And pat his back.”
As she said the words, she demonstrated by patting the baby’s back. He burped noisily.
Whitney smiled and set Gino on his lap again. “That feels better, doesn’t it, little guy?”
This close, her smoky, sexy voice curled around Darius and he nearly squeezed his eyes shut. That voice would be trouble if he heard it for several weeks with her living under his roof. Even the way she’d refused dinner the night before had been breathy and sensual. And then there was that tub. And the look that had passed between them.
He bounced out of the chair. “So do we take him down to breakfast with us or what?”
“Is there a high chair by the table?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Then I think we should keep him with us.”
“Okay.”
After all the time he’d already spent with the baby, Darius didn’t feel uncomfortable holding Gino, but that in itself was odd. The powerful feeling he’d had the night before came back full force. Sacred, reverent, it squeezed his heart and made breathing difficult.
Since his father’s death, everything had happened so fast that he hadn’t had time to think anything through.
But suddenly everything seemed so real. He had a child to raise, responsibilities beyond money and food. This kid would take up his time, change his morning routine, break into his afternoons, want his evenings. The understanding of what he’d taken on was so overwhelming that he felt as though he needed a minute.
He held Gino out to Whitney. “Could you hold him while I grab some shoes?”
She hesitated and Darius nearly groaned. The last thing he wanted to do was give her the impression he didn’t want the task of caring for the baby. He wanted her to see his commitment.
“You know what? Never mind. I’ll take him into my bedroom with me.”
To his surprise, Whitney smiled. “And what will you do with him while you’re putting on your shoes?”
He sucked in a breath. “Good question.”
She took Gino from him. “Go get your shoes.”
Relief poured through him. He raced into his bedroom, slid into socks and shoes and was back in the nursery in less than two minutes.
Noting that Gino was in the playpen, he frowned. “Ready for breakfast?”
“Yes.” She reached down and lifted Gino out of the playpen, then handed him to Darius casually, smoothly, but as he took the little boy, she wouldn’t look at him.
He hadn’t expected her to put Gino in the playpen or to immediately pass him back when he returned from getting his shoes. But her not being able to look at him was actually more perplexing.
The night before, he’d walked away from the opportunity to kiss her without any hesitation, even though she was throwing off you-can-kiss-me signals. He’d hoped that walking away would show her that even though he was attracted to her, he didn’t intend to follow through. Yet she still behaved in an overly cautious manner around him.
She strode to the door as if nothing were amiss and held it open while he came through with the baby. Following her down the steps, he stared at her stiff back. He’d never met a woman who was so hot one minute and so cold the next. It was almost as if she could turn her emotions off.
Which, in some ways, was good. They didn’t want to be attracted to each other. It didn’t work for either of them. And he was turning off his feelings for her every bit as much.
So
