by Day Leclaire
Grace winced. “Luc, it won’t help to antagonize him.”
“I don’t care,” he snapped. “If the police hadn’t been so quick to let Carina go, we wouldn’t be in our current predicament. Not that it matters. When Brand does catch up with her, they’ll marry and return for Toni. Until then, my fiancée and I are taking care of the baby. She’s perfectly safe and in good hands.”
“That’s not for me to decide.”
Luc stiffened. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Easy,” Grace murmured, laying a restraining hand on Luc’s arm.
“No.” He shook free of her hold. “I want to know what he means.”
Hatcher eyed them sternly. “I mean that what happens to the baby is up to social services, not me. Legally, she’s been abandoned.”
“No, she hasn’t!” Luc bit out. “The mother left her child with the father.”
“Mr. Salvatore, I don’t intend to argue with you about this. I’m taking the baby into custody. If you resist, I’ll arrest you.”
Before Luc could respond, Grace asked, “What will happen to Toni?”
Hatcher explained while writing. “The law requires we have her transported by ambulance to the local hospital. She’ll be examined there and kept overnight at the child protection center. In the morning they’ll put her in a temporary foster home while an emergency response worker investigates the case.” He spoke by rote, his demeanor cool and dispassionate, repeating an explanation he’d obviously given before.
“How do we get her back?” Grace questioned.
He hesitated, glancing up. For the first time, his guard relaxed slightly. “To be honest, I’m not sure you can. The best chance you have is to get in touch with the legal guardian, presumably the mother, and obtain a signed custody statement and a medical permission slip. A copy of the birth certificate wouldn’t hurt, either.”
Grace gazed at Luc. “Can we do that?” she whispered.
He gave a brief nod. “Brand can fax or email it to us.”
“Even then, it’s questionable whether the authorities will release her to you.” Hatcher hesitated, eyeing Grace. “Though, a permanent female presence in the home could possibly tip the scales in your favor.” He snapped his notepad closed and pocketed it. “Take me to the baby.”
There was nothing they could do after that. Luc went into the spare bedroom and packed a diaper bag with several days’ worth of clothes, diapers, and baby paraphernalia. Fighting back tears, Grace carefully bundled up Toni for the trip into the frigid night air. The entire time, Officer Hatcher stood in the doorway, watching their every move.
“Wait.” She stopped Luc before he could close the diaper bag. Handing him the baby, she grabbed a floppy-eared rabbit from the pet net and thrust it in among the clothes he’d packed. “What about a bottle and a spare can of formula?” she asked the policeman.
“Can’t hurt.”
“It will only take a minute.” She glanced at Luc. He held Toni, his face expressionless, but she could sense his impotent fury. “Officer Hatcher, would you mind helping me?” She sent Hatcher a pleading look, hoping against hope he’d give Luc the few moments of privacy he needed to say goodbye to Toni.
After a brief hesitation, the policeman nodded. “Two minutes. No more.”
Chattering nonsense while she prepared a bottle, Grace prayed that Luc wouldn’t do anything foolish. To her relief, he appeared in the doorway just as she finished mixing the formula. Without a word, he handed the officer the baby and the diaper bag.
“Here’s my business card,” Luc said. “My private cell number’s on the back. I’ll expect the emergency response worker’s call first thing in the morning.” It wasn’t a request.
Hatcher inclined his head. “I suggest you get those papers together and fast. You haven’t a prayer otherwise.”
And with that he left, Toni gently cradled in his arms.
The minute the door closed behind him, Luc slammed his fist against the wall, knocking a hole in the plaster. Grace came up behind, not sure approaching him at this time was the wisest course of action. “It’s all right,” she told him. “We’ll get her back.”
He turned on her, his eyes wild with fury, dark color streaking across his angled cheekbones. “I won’t let it happen again, Grace. I won’t let them split up my family again.”
Again? She stared at him in alarm. “What do you mean, again?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he headed for the guest room, forcing her to run to keep up with him. “Luc?”
He crossed to the empty crib and took a deep breath, then another. Slowly, his anger dissipated and he took a minute to gaze around the room. It seemed so quiet and empty without Toni. Luc must have felt something similar because he spun the colorful mobile with a surprisingly gentle hand, causing it to chatter. Releasing a sigh, he picked up Toni’s crumpled pink blanket and folded it, tossing it across the headboard. He’d cut himself hitting the wall. A streak of blood oozed from his bruised and scraped knuckles. If it bothered him, he gave no indication.
“I was fourteen when Brand was born,” he began. “I guess you’d call my brother an afterthought, though Mamma and Papà were delighted by the addition. He’d make it an even half dozen, they claimed. The first time I saw him, I thought he was the ugliest creature ever created. I called him ‘monkey face.’”
Grace curled up in the rocker near the crib and watched him with concern. She’d stumbled across something. She didn’t quite know what, but at a guess it had a great deal to do with his feelings for Toni. “Brand’s looks have improved with age,” she said lightly.
To her surprise, a brief grin creased his face. “Yeah. They did.” The grin faded. “Mom died when he was only a couple of months old.”
“Oh, no,” Grace cried softly.
He swatted at the mobile again, sending the cartoon characters careening in a drunken circle. “I’m not sure whether it was the stress of Brand’s birth. She was in her forties by the time she had him. Maybe it was the pneumonia that killed her.” He shrugged. “Who knows? Perhaps it was a combination of the two. Not that it matters now.”
“Where was Dom?”
“Papà was in Italy on business. We had trouble contacting him.” His voice deepened, the sound raspy with emotion. “Mom had all that information, but she went so fast she didn’t have time to tell us how to get in touch with him.”
She left the rocker and crossed to his side, slipping her arms around his waist and resting her cheek against his broad back. His skin felt warm and smooth beneath her face. “What happened?”
To her relief, he accepted her compassion. His arms pulled her even closer, forging a bond against the darkness. “Same as tonight. The police arrived to take us into foster care until Papà could come for us. I fought them. I mean, physically fought them.”
He sounded so cold and remote, so removed from his memories. But it wasn’t true. She could hear the harsh sound of his breathing, feel his tension beneath her hands. “Why did you fight?” she asked.
“Family unity was drummed into us from the cradle. My mother’s last request was that I keep everyone together until Papà returned. But the police wanted to separate us. I couldn’t let them.”
“You did your best, Luc,” she said urgently. “You were so young. Too young to care for an infant, to supervise four rambunctious boys.”
His hands tightened on hers, communicating his pain and distress. “Don’t you get it? I was in charge. It was my duty to keep us all together until Papà came home. I tried. Heaven knows, I tried. But I didn’t succeed. They took my brothers, one by one. Soren and D’Angelo, who were next oldest. The twins, Matteo and Dante. Then finally Brand. They needed three policemen to hold me down while they got them all out of the house.” He closed his eyes, swallowing hard. “We were dispersed to various foster homes. Three weeks later Papà came for us.”
“He didn’t blame you, did he?” she asked in alarm.
“Never. But I knew I’d failed.” He steppe
d free of her hold and turned to face her, his expression carved into lines of unwavering determination. “I won’t fail again. I swear, I’ll do anything—anything—to regain custody of Toni until Carina and Brand return.”
“What are you planning?” she asked uneasily.
He gazed down at her, his eyes dark with a passionate intensity. “You and I,” he informed her in a clipped, stony voice, “are now officially married.”
“You can’t be serious,” she exclaimed, taking a quick step back.
He caught her by the shoulders, anchoring her in place. “I’m dead serious. Hatcher said having a permanent female presence in the house might tip the scales in our favor, and that’s just what I intend to have.”
“But what about Will . . . William?”
“What about him?” he demanded.
There was a recklessness about Luc that worried her, and her gaze slid nervously from his. Perhaps this wasn’t the best time to mention her supposed fiancé. “I’ll discuss it with him.”
“Yeah. You do that. In the meantime, I want as much of your stuff over here as we can carry. When Ms. Emergency Response Worker arrives on my doorstep, I want her to find a happily married couple. That means his-and-hers hairbrushes on the dresser. Our toothbrushes sharing a tube of toothpaste. And my shoes playing footsie with yours on the closet floor.”
If only she had time to think, time to line up all the reasons why his plan wouldn’t work. She pulled from his grasp and tightened the sash of her robe, thrusting her hair back from her face. “In case it escaped your notice, I haven’t agreed to your request.”
“Are you refusing to help?”
Was she? She frowned, eyeing the empty crib with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. With each passing hour, Luc drew her further and further into his personal problems. When Dom returned, could she face him honestly and say she’d kept their agreement? No, not even close. But then, how could she leave Luc in such dire straits? How could she desert him?
“Do we have to claim we’re married?” she asked. “The police think we’re engaged. What happens if they compare notes?”
“Then we’ll show them our marriage certificate.”
She stared at Luc in shock. “What?”
“Tomorrow we apply for a license, just in case a temporary marriage is necessary.”
“No! I won’t do it.”
He approached, towering over her, his face set in hard, determined lines. “Oh, yes, you will. I don’t care what it takes. I’ll give you whatever you want, but you will do this. If not for me, for Toni.”
She faced him defiantly. “You have such a way with words.”
He inhaled deeply, pain etching deep furrows across his brow. “I’m sorry. I know I’m doing this all wrong. But, please, Grace. I need you. I need your help. I can’t let them take Toni away.”
She closed her eyes, knowing she should turn him down flat. A strident voice of logic told her there wasn’t a single valid reason for helping him, and every reason in the world for refusing. If she were smart, she’d listen to that voice. If she were smart.
“All right,” she whispered. “I’ll do it.”
And then he kissed her, a kiss of such passion and heat, it was more than enough to still even the voice of logic. Desperation clung to the edges of the embrace, filled with dark memories and a heartache she longed to soothe. He’d always seemed to accept his role as the one in charge, the most responsible of his siblings. The man others turned to in their time of need. He’d never shown any sort of vulnerability.
Until now.
Now he needed comfort. He needed someone to turn to in his time of need, and she was the one he’d chosen. “It’s going to work out,” she whispered against his mouth. “We’re in this together.”
“Together. I like the sound of that.” He didn’t give her time to think, but swept her into his arms and carried her through to his bedroom.
Apprehension raced through her. “Wait. What are you doing?”
“I’m going to bed.” He tumbled her onto the mattress and followed her down. “To be exact, I’m going to bed with you.”
A thrilling excitement vied with alarm. “We can’t.”
“Oh, but we can.” He swept her hair from her eyes and studied her with a serious expression. “I’m not asking you to make love to me.”
“You’re not?” Good Lord, was that disappointment in her voice? “I mean, of course you’re not.”
For the first time, a spark of amusement filtered through the grimness. “This isn’t the right time. And it wouldn’t be for the right reason.” A whisper of vulnerability reappeared. “Stay with me, Grace. I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
Her heart went out to him. “What if I just stay for a little while?”
He rested his forehead against hers. “I’ll take whatever I can get.”
Going to bed with Luc shouldn’t feel this natural. She should experience some awkwardness removing her robe and slipping beneath the covers, especially when he wore nothing more than a pair of sweatpants. Where was the hesitation in allowing him to scoop her into his arms and cradle her against his bare chest? Why didn’t she stiffen and pull away when he fit her curves to the hard angles of his body? Instead, a sense of rightness settled over her and his warmth blanketed her, comforted her the way she meant to comfort him.
“Good night, Grace,” he murmured against her hair.
“Good night, Luc.”
“This feels nice. Better than nice.” His breath escaped in a long, drawn out sigh. “In fact, it feels right.”
He’d echoed her own thoughts. She didn’t dare respond. Or move. Or even breathe. If she did, he’d know how much she wanted him. How much she hoped he’d do more than hold her. That rather than sleep, he’d make love to her, despite her protests to the contrary. She waited to see what he’d do next.
“Luc?” she whispered after endless minutes of waiting.
The only answer was the tightening of his arms and the calm, steady beat of his heart against hers. She should be relieved.
Instead she fell asleep, regret haunting her dreams.
The phone woke her a few hours later, just as dawn lightened the sky. Grace froze for a split second, awareness filtering through her exhaustion. Luc. She turned her head to find him gone. His warmth remained within the cozy embrace of the mattress and before she could stop herself, she curled into that warmth, soaking it up. His scent lingered, as well, a tantalizing feast of masculine spice. It tempted her beyond reason, sparking a combination of longing and hunger. With an exclamation of irritation, she forced herself to crawl out of bed, before she did something utterly stupid, like hug his pillow. She turned her back on the one place she desperately wanted to remain and pulled on her robe, hastening toward the study.
“Brand!” she heard Luc exclaim. “Where are you? What? Epazzo! What the hell are you doing back in Italy?”
“What’s going on?” she asked. Concern over whatever latest crisis had developed overcame her shyness at seeing Luc after an illicit night in his arms. “What’s Brand doing in Italy?”
Luc covered the mouthpiece. “Trying my patience.” He spoke into the phone again. “Listen up, it’s gotten serious here. The police came last night and took Toni.”
She winced, able to hear Brand’s furious protests clear across the room. “Tell him we need a custody statement,” she urged.
“Shut up and listen,” Luc snapped.
She couldn’t hide her hurt. “I was just trying to help.”
“No, not you, Grace. Brand. Come again? Never mind what she’s doing here at this hour. You have more important issues requiring your attention.”
Grace closed her eyes and groaned. Just when she’d thought matters couldn’t get any worse. Fate or, in this case, Luc Salvatore proved her wrong.
“You know that if it’s within my powers I’ll get Toni back, but we need a signed custody statement from Carina and a medical permission slip. Can you get her to give them
to you?”
Grace crossed to Luc’s side. “Don’t forget the birth certificate,” she reminded him.
“Right. And a copy of Toni’s birth certificate. You fax or email me the documents as soon as possible, is that clear? Otherwise, they’ll put your daughter in a foster home and you’ll have a hell of a time getting custody again.”
Grace tugged at Luc’s arm. He glanced at her, exhaustion lining his face, and her heart went out to him. “Tell him it’ll be okay,” she said. “Tell him to take care of Carina and we’ll take care of Toni. Reassure him.”
He nodded briefly, gratitude vying with his exhaustion. He skimmed her cheek with a tender hand before resuming his conversation. “Don’t worry, Brand. You know I’ll take care of everything. Just get home as soon as you can.” After exchanging a few more words, he hung up.
For an instant they simply stared at each other, the room awash with memories of the previous night. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry, Grace. None of this should have happened. Last night—”
She stiffened. “Are you apologizing for last night?”
“No,” he instantly replied. “At least, not for taking you to bed. I guess I’m apologizing for the manner in which it happened. I’m apologizing because that moment had more to do with Toni than with us. And it shouldn’t have.”
She resurrected Office Grace, desperate for the protection her alter ego provided. “If it hadn’t been for Toni, I never would have ended up in your bed. You needed comfort. That’s all it was.”
Irritation stirred in his gaze and he tamped it down. “Listen well, Grace.” He snagged the lapels of her robe and reeled her in. “The next time I take you to bed—and there will be a next time—it won’t be so you can render comfort. It will be so I can make love to you. Are we clear on that point?”
She stared, wide-eyed. What did she say to that? She opened her mouth to argue. Instead, a single word escaped. “Clear.” Oops.
Luc nodded in satisfaction. “Good. Now, get dressed, please. If we’re going to get Toni home tonight, we’ve got a list of chores a mile long to accomplish beforehand.”
