by Day Leclaire
“No, I don’t make my wife and niece live in a closet,” Luc stated forcefully. “Nor do they sleep there. Most days. My father . . . You see, Grace . . .” He shoved his hand through his hair and sighed in exasperation. “It’s a long story.”
Ms. Carstairs folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot. “I have all the time in the world.”
Grace slipped Toni back into the laundry basket and crawled out of the closet. Standing proved more problematic. Her knees buckled and Luc caught her. “My legs fell asleep,” she murmured apologetically. “How long was your father here?”
“Ninety long, impossible minutes,” he replied, cradling her close until she could shake the pins and needles from her legs. He gazed down into her face and frowned. Cupping her chin, he ran his thumb across her cheekbone, a question in his eyes. “Cara? Are you all right?” he asked in a low voice.
A hint of color lit Grace’s face. Could he tell she’d been crying? Lord, she hoped not. She shifted her attention to the social worker, offering a smile and a hand. “Hi. I’m Grace.” She gulped, forcing out the lie. “Grace Salvatore.”
“Lillian Carstairs. May I ask if you and the baby often hide in your husband’s closet?”
“It’s the first time that I’m aware of,” Luc answered for Grace. “I can’t vouch for any other closets, however. Have you hidden in any others?”
“Only one. When I was twelve.”
“Excuse me,” Ms. Carstairs interrupted. “Let’s just deal with this closet and this time. Why were you hiding in the closet?”
“So Dom—Luc’s father—wouldn’t find us,” Grace answered.
Luc released a gusty sigh. “My father doesn’t know about Toni. For that matter, he doesn’t know that Grace and I are married. We eloped while he was still in Italy. And until I tell him—"
“Your wife and niece will be kept hidden away in the closet?” the social worker suggested dryly.
“We’ll use the bathroom next time,” Grace offered. “Would that be all right?”
“Perhaps it would be best if you told him the truth,” Ms. Carstairs said in no uncertain terms. “I suppose that also explains the rather unusual greeting at the door.”
A hint of amusement lightened Luc’s expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to introduce you to my father. He’d already assumed the worst as far as your presence was concerned, and I just went along with it. I apologize if I offended you.”
Color spotted Ms. Carstairs’ cheeks and Grace could tell the infamous Salvatore charm was working its magic once again. “This is all highly irregular,” the young woman muttered.
“How about if we start over,” Luc suggested. “Come into the kitchen and have a cup of coffee, and then we’ll show you around and answer any questions you might have. Coffee, Grace?”
“Sounds great,” she agreed.
“And a bottle for Toni, I think.”
Grace pulled the basket from the closet and picked up Toni, confident Luc would talk his way out of a sticky situation. How she wished she possessed his gift. It would certainly come in handy over the next few days.
She closed her eyes and buried her face against Toni’s neck. Matters were becoming much too complicated. How much longer could she keep doing this, living a lie? Perhaps she’d better confess her subterfuge to Luc once Ms. Carstairs left. She’d be as frank with him as she intended to be with Dom. But if she did, how would Luc react? Would he understand why she’d chosen to deceive him? Somehow, she suspected he wouldn’t. At the very least, it would change their relationship, and she didn’t think she was ready for that.
“Grace?” Luc called to her. “Are you coming?”
She lifted her head and took a deep breath. Maybe she’d have a hot cup of coffee and think about it for a while. There was no rush, right? She’d get a good night’s sleep and reconsider her options tomorrow.
Nothing like putting off today what she’d most likely put off tomorrow, too. She sighed. No question about it. She was going straight to hell.
As she suspected, having a night to sleep on her problems brought Grace no nearer a solution. If anything, she awoke more confused than ever. For one thing, she wasn’t in Luc’s bed, and she wanted to be. For another, she had several choices, none quite what she wanted. She buried her head in the pillow with a groan. Should she tell Luc about her deal with Dom? Should she accept his very tempting offer of a promotion, if she was unable to open Baby Dream Toys? Most important of all, should she agree to a temporary relationship and suffer the consequences?
She didn’t know. She just didn’t know. What she wanted was Luc. But Luc didn’t want her, at least not on a permanent basis. And facing that fact nearly ripped her apart.
Crawling out of bed to a brilliant, sunny morning, she discovered Luc already up and dressed in a business suit and tie.
“You’re not going into the office, are you?” she asked, dismayed. She’d hoped to spend time with him, precious, fleeting time.
“I’m afraid so. Papà said he’d meet me there. I assume he’d like an update on our various business activities. And since the only other option is to have him come here . . .” He let the suggestion hang.
“No, that wouldn’t work, would it,” she agreed. “What about Brand and Carina?”
“I still expect them tomorrow for Thanksgiving. If they weren’t going to make it, Brand would have phoned. Will you stay here with Toni? If Papà asks, I’ll say you’re out sick.”
“More lies,” she murmured, disheartened.
He frowned, then approached and pulled her into his arms. “I know I agreed not to touch you, but I can’t seem to help myself, especially when you’re so upset.” He fell silent for a moment. “I realize all of this deception is difficult for you, but we can straighten everything out when Brand returns. How about once this is over, we confess our various sins? You and I will have a frank talk and put all our cards on the table.”
She smiled. “I’d like that. And you’re right, of course. I have a sin or two of my own to confess.”
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”
Luc dropped a kiss on her mouth. Then, as if unable to resist, he kissed her again, more deeply, with an underlying urgency. She should resist. She should insist he keep to their agreement. Maybe she would have, could have, if it hadn’t been for one small problem. She wanted him. Wanted him more than she’d wanted anything in her entire life. Her arms slid around his neck and she opened herself to him in every way. His tongue mated with hers, a sweet joining that sent tremors of longing shooting through her. She shifted restlessly against him and he captured her hips, settling her between his thighs. The hard ridge of his erection pressed against her. Instead of bringing her to her senses, it drove her desire to even greater heights.
“Luc, please.”
He drew back, misunderstanding her whispered request. “I know I’m breaking our agreement, but I can’t help it. I want you.”
She nestled into his embrace, and suddenly everything crystallized in her mind. Through the long, endless night, she’d struggled to make a decision. To decide whether she’d fight for Luc’s love or do the safe thing and walk away. But now, in the cold light of day, she knew what her answer would be. In that instant, held in his arms, all her doubts vanished.
For the first time since their escapade began, she was certain in both heart and mind. Once they’d settled their problems with Toni, she’d tell Luc the truth. Every bit of it. Then, it would be up to him how they proceeded. She knew he wasn’t interested in a permanent relationship, and though it meant future heartache, she’d take the tiny slice of heaven he offered. Because she knew, deep in her heart, she’d never love anyone as much as she loved Luc.
“I want you, too,” she admitted. And though she wished she could tell him of her love and coax similar words from him, she was willing to give it time. Maybe even a lifetime.
His eyes darkened. “Say that again.”
“I want you,” she repeated. “Ve
ry, very badly.”
“You sure that isn’t frustration speaking?” Skepticism underscored the question. “What about when Toni’s out of our life and you’ve had time to reconsider? What will you say then?”
“The same.”
She’d surprised him, and he studied her expression intently. “You’re sure?”
“I’m positive,” she said, and he couldn’t mistake her sincerity.
“Just so you know, your timing is really off,” he told her with a short, impatient laugh. Pulling her more fully into his arms, he kissed her again, the embrace passionate and thorough. He didn’t leave a single doubt in her mind that he wanted her. Badly. “If it weren’t for my father—”
“His timing isn’t the best, is it?”
“Not even a little.” Reluctantly, he drew back. “As much as I want to carry you back to bed, I have to leave.”
“Will you be gone all day?” she asked wistfully. “Can you break off early?”
“I hope so. I’ll try and return for lunch.” And with a final kiss, he left.
She secured the door behind him and leaned her forehead against the cool wooden surface. Another day or two and her subterfuge would end. Brand would return, Toni would be back with her parents, and she and Luc would clear up all the lies and deceptions between them. She could hang on for that long, couldn’t she? Not that she had a choice. Straightening, she tightened the sash on her robe and padded toward the guest bedroom. Toni lay in her crib, watching the mobile spin lazily above her.
“Good morning,” Grace said with a smile. “You’re certainly in a happy mood this morning. Ready for breakfast? Or should we have our bath first?” Toni kicked her feet and let out a shrill gurgle. “Breakfast, it is.”
Lifting the baby out of the crib, Grace headed for the kitchen, when a peremptory knock sounded at the door. Later, she realized she should have peered through the spy hole first. But at the time, she didn’t think twice. Assuming Luc had forgotten something, she opened the door.
Dom Salvatore stood there.
He looked at her, took a stumbling step backward, double-checked the number on the door and then looked at her once more. Slowly his gaze took in her sleep-ruffled hair—her sleep-ruffled blond hair, her bathrobe-covered nightie, and finally the baby Grace held clutched in her arms. His face crumpled.
“You are not wearing your glasses,” he blurted out.
“No,” she confessed. “I’m not.”
“And your hair . . .”
“I know. It’s blond again.” She touched the tangled curls self-consciously, then stepped back. “You’d better come in.”
He looked appalled, and for an instant she thought he’d burst into tears. Then he followed her into the apartment. “All my plans . . . ruined,” he moaned.
“It’s not so bad,” she attempted to reassure him, wondering desperately which story to tell. Did she mention Brand and Carina? Did she claim Toni as her own? Lord, how she wished Luc was here to help.
Dom shook his head, muttering in Italian. Finally, he implored, “How could this happen?”
Oh, Lord. How did she answer that one? She had to pick a story and fast, and salvage what she could of this mess. She bit down on her lip, forced to face facts with a vengeance. It was too late to save herself. She straightened her shoulders. But she could still help Brand and Carina.
To her relief, Toni came to the rescue. Reacting to the heightened emotions, her face screwed into a frown and she began to cry. “Oh, dear,” Grace said, “I think we’d better get busy with that bottle.”
“Please, wait.” For a long minute Dom stared at Toni, uncertainty clouding his face. Grace could see his quandary, his delight at the possibility of a grandchild warring with his outrage at the circumstances behind that grandchild’s conception. Then his hands inched out and he took the wailing baby into his arms. He jiggled Toni gently and when she stopped crying, he beamed. “And who have we here?”
“This is your granddaughter, Antonia,” Grace said simply.
A look of wonder dawned on his face. “A granddaughter?” he murmured in astonishment. “But, this is marvelous. How old is she?”
Grace’s gaze slipped away from his. “Three months.”
He gaped at Grace. “Tre?” He burst into volatile Italian, stabbing the air with his free hand. She didn’t understand a single word he spoke, but she knew exactly what he said. In order for her to have given birth to Toni, she would have had to tumble into Luc’s bed her first day on the job. At long last, he drew breath. “Three months!” he exclaimed.
What possible explanation could she give that would appease him? “The disguise didn’t work,” she said, her face burning with humiliation.
“This I have figured out for myself!”
To her relief, Toni once again came to her rescue. Wriggling in her grandfather’s arms she began to fuss. “She’s hungry,” Grace said. “I need to feed her.” Leading the way into the kitchen, she popped a bottle into the warmer. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“That would be very kind of you.” He sat down at the kitchen table, holding Toni on his lap. “Tell me, Grace. What happened?”
She cleared her throat, pouring the fragrant brew into a cup. “It’s a long story.” To her relief, the bottle warmer beeped, providing her with a few extra seconds to gather her thoughts. “Would you like to give Toni her bottle?”
“I’d be honored.” He cradled his granddaughter in the crook of his arm and Toni stared up at him with wide, curious eyes. Dom offered her the nipple and without hesitation she took it, wrapping her tiny fingers around Dom’s and sucking contentedly. He glanced at Grace with a bittersweet smile. “She is the image of my own Anna. Thank you for naming her after her grandmother. It touches me deeply.”
“She’s a good baby,” Grace said gently, unwilling to take credit for something that had nothing to do with her.
“A beautiful baby. You have done a wonderful job, my dear.” Then he fixed her with a stern gaze. “And now, you will tell me your story, please. You say the disguise did not work? Not even for a single day?”
“Not really.” She poured a second cup of coffee and took a sip. “Luc’s not an easy man to fool.”
Dom clicked his tongue. “But a girl with such an impeccable background. Could you not resist him?”
“He’s hard to resist,” she confessed.
“Even so, surely for a few months?” He seemed to be searching for a reasonable explanation. “I thought starting your own business was important to you. I thought, if nothing else, such an agreement would keep you from my son’s arms.” He shook his head and released a deep, heartfelt sigh. “You must love Luciano very much, to give up your dream.”
To her dismay, tears welled in her eyes. “Starting Baby Dream Toys meant more to me than anything. I wanted to keep our agreement. I really did. Please believe that I tried. I wore the disguise and pretended to be engaged. But, Luc, he . . . Then I . . .” Her throat closed over and she bowed her head, helpless to continue.
“I am sorry, my dear. I did not mean to upset you.” He stroked Toni’s head with a gentle hand. “I must tell you I am very disappointed in you both. It is my deepest hope that you and Luc have taken proper responsibility for your unthinking actions. As much as this grandchild means to me, as much as my son means to me, I would throw you out of the family if I thought you had not.” He paused, waiting for her response.
Grace swallowed, realizing she was treading on very shaky ground. “You’d throw us out of the family if we hadn’t what?” she asked hesitantly.
“Married, of course! You are wed, yes?”
A footstep sounded behind her. And then, “Of course, we’re married, Papà,” Luc announced from the doorway.
Grace spun around, her eyes widening in horror. Without any question, he’d overheard every word of their conversation. And he was furious. His eyes glittered with harsh gold lights and he stalked into the kitchen, reminding her of an angry panther she’d once se
en pacing his cage at the zoo, roaring his frustration to the heavens. She tensed, waiting for Luc’s roar.
“What are you doing here, Papà?” To her surprise, he spoke in a deceptively mild voice. But one glimpse of his set features warned, though he wouldn’t lose his temper in front of his father, he wouldn’t be so restrained once they were alone. “I thought we agreed to meet at the office.”
“So we did,” Dom agreed, not seeming to notice anything amiss. He set the bottle on the table and lifted Toni to his shoulder, patting her back. “It occurred to me we might drive into work together.” He fixed his calm, dark gaze on Luc. “You forgot to tell me something yesterday, yes?”
Luc shrugged, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “As I recall, I did mention I had a blonde and brunette hiding in my bedroom.”
“I thought you made a joke.” Dom spoke severely. “You know this. Why did you not tell me the truth? You marry, have a child, and do not bother to tell your own father?” He added something in Italian, hurt clear in his lilting voice.
Luc hesitated, then asked, “If I had told you, what would you have done?”
“I would have come home,” came the prompt response.
“There’s your answer. The doctors wanted you to retire. You know you wouldn’t have, if you’d returned early from Italy.”
“Bah! Doctors. What do they know? I am strong as a horse.”
“A sixty-five-year-old horse with a heart condition.”
Dom stirred uncomfortably. “I wish to talk about Grace and this situation we now find ourselves in, not about my health. You uncovered the truth about her, I am right?”
Luc leaned back against the counter and sipped his coffee. For a split second his gaze locked with hers. She froze, held in place by the icy fury she read there. “Uncovered the truth about her disguise and the fake engagement? Yes. I uncovered that much.” But not about his father’s bribe. Grace caught the omission. And not about his starting her up in business.
Luc’s expression warned he wouldn’t easily forgive that exclusion.
Betraying his nervousness, Dom ran a hand along his jaw. “You, ah, you are not upset with me?”
