The Billionaire's Baby SOS. Susan Meier
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He pulled his hands from his pants pockets and raised them in a gesture of total helplessness. “I don’t know how.”
She took a step toward him. “It’s really quite simple.”
Her sweet and polite voice matched her nearly perfect face and sent tingly warmth through him. But when she stepped toward him, offering the little girl, he backed up again.
She frowned. “This child is yours.”
“And I will take care of her. Next week.” He shook his head. “No. That doesn’t work for me, either. I have to go to Texas for some family reunion thing—”
The woman holding Bella stopped him with a wave of her hand. “I don’t care if you’re the king of the world and you have to hold court. Bella is yours now.” She smoothed a hand down the baby’s back. “Besides, there’s nothing to be afraid of. She’s such a sweetie that caring for her will come naturally.” She held the baby out to him, and again, Bella strained toward him.
His nervous system rattled like the old-fashioned ticker at the New York Stock Exchange. He’d known for four days that his ex-wife was dead and he was to be Bella’s guardian, and he hadn’t panicked. He’d handled it the same way he handled everything in his life. He took it one step at a time. But with the baby in front of him, it all suddenly became very real. For the next eighteen years, this child was his. He’d have to raise her. Get her through toddler years and preschool, then elementary school, middle school—teen years.
“I—” He wanted to take her. He really did. But this was Ginny and Oswald’s baby. A baby who deserved to be loved and pampered. He hadn’t loved or pampered anybody in—well, ever. That’s why he’d lost Ginny. He wasn’t the pampering, wine and roses, long walks on the beach and talks all night kind of guy. Worse, the people who might be able to help him—his staff—were all out of town.
“Really. I can’t take her now. I’ve been in London for three weeks. When I heard about Bella, I came home early. But I’d dismissed my household staff for the six weeks I was supposed to be away. They’re in places like Aruba taking a much-needed break. Even if I called them home, they wouldn’t get back before Friday. And I,” he said, pressing his hand against his chest, “have absolutely no idea how to care for a baby.”
“You don’t have nieces or nephews?”
He winced. “No, but even if I did, let’s just say I’m not much of a family man.”
Though Claire straightened as if she were about to rain down the fire of hell upon him, she protectively rubbed her hand along Bella’s back, soothing her. “You agreed to parent a child when you have absolutely no idea of how?”
“I agreed to be a godfather. I didn’t realize that also meant I’d be the baby’s guardian if something happened to her parents.”
“How could you not know that?”
“In some circles godfather is a purely honorary term.”
Her pretty face softened. “Apparently, your friends took it seriously because you’re named Bella’s guardian in their wills.”
“Yes. But they never told me that and I am just not ready for this.”
“You still have to take her.”
Disbelief and anger at the injustice of it all reared up in him. Ginny dead. Bella his. It didn’t make any sense. Mostly because he wasn’t qualified to do this—any of it. He couldn’t hold her, let alone change a diaper. And he was the last person who should be assigned to love her.
Bella began to fuss and Claire Kinkaid rubbed her cheek against the baby’s, comforting and quieting her.
Inspiration struck like a band of angels singing the Hallelujah Chorus. “You’re pretty good with kids. What are you doing tonight, Miss Kincaid?”
“It’s Claire.” She moved her gaze away from his, straightening the collar of Bella’s little pink blouse. “And I’m busy.”
His eyes narrowed. Busy? She was pretty enough to have a date on a Monday night. If she’d been able to hold his gaze, he might have bought that. “So what you’re really saying is that you don’t want to help us?”
“We’re an adoption agency, not a nanny service.” She walked to her desk, pulled out some business cards. “But these are the names and addresses of some well-respected agencies. You could get a stellar nanny from any one of them.”
As Claire held out the cards to Matt, Bella blinked slowly. Her long black lashes fell to her cheeks and lifted again. Tears filled her pretty blue eyes, as if she understood she was being shuffled off again.
Sympathy for her swelled in Matt’s already tight chest. He had been young, maybe three, when he’d felt odd about his dad—as if he and Cedric Patterson didn’t fit together—as if somewhere deep in his subconscious he had always known that he wasn’t really Cedric’s son. And he didn’t belong in the Patterson family. Though Bella was a lot younger, he’d bet that somewhere in her subconscious all of this was being recorded. He could see in her eyes that she might not fully comprehend what was happening, but she was afraid. If nothing else, she hadn’t seen her parents in almost a week. She was alone. Frightened.
And though it didn’t make sense from a practical standpoint, her emotional well-being suddenly meant more to him than worry over dirty diapers.
He slid his hands into his pants pockets again. “I don’t want a nanny. At least not yet. I don’t want to leave her with another stranger.”
And right now Claire Kincaid was the one person in the world who wasn’t a stranger to her.
He caught Claire’s gaze and offered the only workable solution. “I’ll pay you anything you want to spend the next week with me.”
Claire knew the offer was for her nanny services, but her face warmed and her stomach tightened. Matt Patterson might not know how to care for a baby, but he was one good-looking guy. Six foot one if he was an inch, he didn’t tower over her, but he was tall enough that even in her heels she had to look up to him. His hair was a shiny light brown, cut short, professional, businesslike. His wicked green eyes smiled when he smiled, and grew stormy cold when he didn’t get his way. But happy or stormy they always had a quality of…assessment. As if everything she said or did was of vital importance. And every time he caught her gaze, a lightning bolt of attraction shot through her.
She hadn’t had a response to a man in years and her body picked now? And this guy? A man who’d left his baby with an adoption agency for four days? A man who didn’t seem to want to take Bella now? Was she crazy?
“I’m sorry, Mr. Patterson, but as I said before we’re an adoption agency. Not a nanny service.”
He took a lazy step toward her, sending her pulse into overdrive. The way he looked, everything he did, was just so male. “You’re pretty good with her, though.”
She took a step back. “Yes. Well, I love children.”
“You’re better than just somebody who loves children.” Studying her face, he frowned. “I’m guessing you got into