Piers went up to his master suite and stood at the window, looking out at the night sky. Ethics could take a hike. He had to know what he was dealing with here. How could he fight it, overcome it, if he didn’t know what it was? Knowing would at least allow him to metaphorically arm himself for what would be the most important battle of his life. The battle to win Faye’s heart.
* * *
The next few days passed in a blur of activity. The archive room next to the office Piers and Faye shared had been emptied and converted into a nursery for Casey. Thankfully the two nannies that had been both his and Faye’s top picks had been free to start working immediately and the roster system seemed to be working well.
As to Faye, she appeared determined to spend as little time with him in the office as possible. She was constantly in another part of the building or out at meetings on his behalf for one thing and another. Normally he wouldn’t have questioned it, but in light of how she’d left his house earlier in the week he saw this as exactly what it was. Avoidance. Well, it didn’t matter. She had to come back to the office eventually and, when she did, he’d be waiting.
There was still no news from the investigator regarding Faye’s past. Piers had begun to question whether he’d done the right thing—whether he shouldn’t just cancel the whole inquiry—but a niggling need to know now wouldn’t leave him.
Another question had also taken up residence in his thoughts. Something his lawyer had discussed with him when he’d relayed the information from Casey’s mom. Greg, his lawyer, had asked what it could mean if the infertility angle from the woman’s other lover had just been something he had said to avoid responsibility. Or what if she’d made the whole thing up? She’d worked at the lodge that night and no doubt had some idea of the wealth behind the Luckman family. Maybe claiming Quin was the father was just an attempt to get a share of that wealth in exchange for the child?
Piers rejected one of the questions immediately. If money had been Casey’s mom’s goal, she would have asked for it outright. She would hardly have left the baby with him the way she had. And while the fact that she’d had sex with Quin while apparently involved with someone else didn’t exactly speak volumes as to her reliability or her integrity, he didn’t believe her actions in abandoning Casey had been for her own financial gain.
While Piers was convinced that Casey was his brother’s son, Greg had thrown another scenario at him. What if the boyfriend was the real father and decided to demand access to Casey? Greg had strongly recommended Piers have DNA testing done to ensure that there would be no future threats to Casey’s stability and his position in Piers’s life. If Piers could prove his biological link to the baby, there could be no questions asked, ever. Hell, with the fact that as identical twins he and Quin shared identical DNA, even Piers couldn’t be ruled out as Casey’s biological father.
When Greg had first thrown that into the conversation Piers hadn’t been in a hurry to follow his recommendation for the DNA test. But his lawyer had sown a seed. Piers wanted to be certain that Casey’s stability would never be threatened. That he’d never become involved in a tug-of-war between parents the way Piers and Quin so often had with their own parents. Even though they’d never separated, they’d spent most of their marriage living very separate lives and constantly battling over their assets. Their children, though uninteresting to them personally, were often pawns used in their bickering.
No, Casey would have the stability he deserved. There would be no question about who was responsible for him or who would raise him. Piers would get the testing done and settle any doubt once and for all.
“Faye, I need you to do something for me,” he said the moment she returned to the office from a meeting.
She raised one brow in question.
He explained what he needed and, true to form, within fifteen minutes she’d gathered the information he’d requested and ordered the test kit to be couriered directly to their office.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked after she hung up the phone.
“I don’t want any nasty surprises in the future,” he answered firmly.
“But what if Casey’s not Quin’s, after all? Isn’t that why you’re keeping him rather than relinquishing him to state care?”
“It won’t make any difference.”
“Won’t it?”
“Of course not. He’s mine now. Forever.”
“If he’s not Quin’s child, you can change your mind.”
Piers felt the weight of her statement as if it was placed directly over his heart. “What are you suggesting?” he demanded, his voice hard.
“It wouldn’t be the first time someone decided parenthood wasn’t for them. I saw it at least twice when adoptions failed while I was being fostered. It’s heartbreaking for everyone concerned.”
He looked at her in shock. Was that a measure of how she saw him? Was that why she showed no inclination to take a risk on him? Did she truly think he was incapable of commitment to anyone—a woman or a child?
“Wow. Why don’t you just tell me what you really think of me, Faye?”
He couldn’t hide the hurt in his voice. Her words had scored deep cuts, whether she’d intended them to or not.
“I’m sorry, but it happens. This is all very new for you now and you’re deeply invested in the whole idea of raising Casey. I can see that.”
“But?” he prompted when she fell silent.
“There is no but. Before you complete the adoption process you need to be certain, for all your sakes, that you’re in this for the right reasons.”
“And they would be?”
“That Casey gets the best and most loving home and upbringing he possibly can.”
There was a note in her voice that surprised him. A passion that spoke volumes as to why she was playing devil’s advocate so persistently. Was it possible that she’d allowed herself to develop feelings for Casey, too? That it would distress her if the adoption didn’t work out?
The very idea that it mightn’t made Piers feel sick to his stomach, but he forced that feeling aside, focusing instead on Faye.
“Those are my very reasons for adopting him,” he said finally. “It heartens me that you care so much for his welfare.”
He watched as myriad expressions raced over her fine features and as those features finally settled into a frown. She was just about to speak when Piers’s cell phone chimed in his pocket.
“You’d better get that,” she said before turning back to her computer.
* * *
Whatever the call was, it must have been important because with just a short “I’ll be back by lunch,” Piers headed out of the office.
She sagged in her office chair, the tension she hadn’t even realized she’d been carrying in her shoulders finally letting go.
Faye closed her eyes for a moment and bowed her head, then took in a deep breath before letting it go slowly. She’d overstepped when she’d talked to him like that but someone had to advocate for Casey. From where she sat, Piers had lived a golden life. Born into money, given the best education that money could buy, raised in luxurious indulgence—even his position here at work had fallen into his lap after his father had declared his retirement.
While he was more than capable of hard work, he’d always started each battle with every advantage on his side. He didn’t know true hardship. Sure, yes, he knew grief. He knew that life could change in an instant, but she’d seen very little about his world that showed he truly understood personal commitment. Casey deserved that.
“Ms. Darby?”
Faye’s eyes flew open and she looked up to see Casey’s male nanny, Jeremy, standing in front of her.
“Hi, Jeremy. Sorry, I was away with the fairies,” she said with a smile of welcome. “What can I help you with?”
“I�
��m really sorry, but I’ve just received a call to say my wife has been in a car accident and she’s being taken to the hospital. I’ve called Laurie and she’s coming in to cover for me, but she won’t be here for another half hour, at least. I wouldn’t ask normally, but my wife is in a lot of pain and she needs to be seen as soon as possible.
“Could you listen for Casey? He’s sleeping and I don’t expect he’ll wake until after Laurie gets here but—”
“Leave me the monitor and go. Your wife needs you. There are plenty of us who can listen out for when Casey wakes. Don’t worry, okay? And let me know how your wife is doing after you’ve seen a doctor.”
“Thanks, Ms. Darby. I really appreciate it.”
“Faye. Please, call me Faye.”
Jeremy smiled in response and popped the baby monitor on her desk. “Thanks, Faye. I owe you one.”
“No problem, just go and see to your wife.”
He was gone almost before the words had left her mouth.
Faye stared at the monitor he’d left on her desk with a wary expression. Even though she’d made sure she had no direct contact with him since returning from the lodge, she knew Casey’s schedule by heart. Usually a good little sleeper, he wasn’t due to wake for at least another hour, and by then Laurie would definitely be here. She could cope with this, she told herself. All care and yet no responsibility.
She returned her attention to her computer screen and studied the building cost analysis figures for a proposed refit of a collection of old warehouses in North Carolina. Something was off, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She sighed and scrolled back to the beginning. She’d find the discrepancy and deal with it. Details were what she did best.
Faye had been lost in numbers and projections for the better part of fifteen minutes when she heard an enraged howl through the monitor. A chill washed through her and she looked at the time on her computer screen. No way. Casey shouldn’t be waking now. Another scream bellowed through the speaker on her desk, forcing her to her feet and out of the office. A few yards down the hall she stopped at the door to the nursery. Her hand trembled as she reached for the doorknob.
This was ridiculous, she told herself. He was just a baby. Just a helpless, sweet thing needing comfort. And yet she could barely bring herself to turn the knob and let herself into the room. Another cry from inside pushed her into action.
She opened the door and stepped into the nursery and was instantly assailed with an array of scents. Soothing lavender in an electric oil burner in one corner was overlaid with the powdery scent of talcum powder. Over that again was something sharper, more sour.
She hurried across the room to discover Casey had been sick in his bed.
“Oh, you poor wee thing,” she cooed to him in an attempt to soothe him with her voice.
At the sound of her voice, Casey’s cries lessened. She lifted him from the crib and took him across to the change table, swiftly divesting him of his dirty clothing and wiping him clean. She checked his diaper, which was thankfully dry, and then redressed him in a clean onesie.
“There we go,” she crooned, lifting him into her arms and resting her cheek on the top of his downy head. “All tidied up. Now we just have your bed to sort out, don’t we?”
He didn’t feel feverish, she noted with relief. Hopefully his throwing up wasn’t a precursor to something serious. With one hand she stripped the dirty linens from the crib, balled them up with his soiled clothing and put them in a hamper in a corner of the room. All the while she kept talking softly to Casey, who’d grown quieter in her arms—just emitting a grumble every now and then. Faye put him in the stroller—in the room for when the nanny took him out for fresh air a couple of times a day—so she could remake the bed, but he wasn’t having any of it.
“Silly boy,” she chided gently, picking him up again. “I can’t make your bed if you don’t let me put you down for a couple of minutes.”
Casey settled against her, his little body curling up against her chest and his head resting on her shoulder. A fierce wave of emotion swept over her. So much trust from one so small. For as long as she held him, his world was just as it ought to be. Secure. Safe. Loved.
Loved? Tears sprang to her eyes and she blinked them away fiercely. No, she didn’t deserve to love or be loved. Her baby brother had loved her, as had her mom and her stepdad. And she’d let them down. Living without love was her punishment for destroying their future together. And Casey’s trust in her was obviously misplaced.
She rubbed his tiny back with one hand and closed her eyes—allowing herself to pretend for just a minute that it was her brother, Henry, she held. That it was his little snuffles she heard. His sweet baby scent that filled her nostrils. The weight of his chubby little body that felt so right in her arms.
“Oh, Henry,” she whispered brokenly. “I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry.”
Tears began in earnest now, rolling down her cheeks as though the floodgates had truly been opened. Faye reached for a box of tissues and wiped at the moisture, but it was no good. The tears kept on coming.
She had no idea how long she stood there, rocking gently with the infant in her arms and tears streaming down her face. He’d fallen asleep again, she realized, but she couldn’t put him in the bassinette because it wasn’t ready. At least, that’s what she told herself. It was the only reason why, now that she held him, she couldn’t let him go.
A movement at the door caught her gaze and then Piers’s strong, male presence was in the room with them.
“Faye?” he asked gently, reaching a hand to touch the tear tracks on her cheek. “I heard you on the monitor. Are you okay?”
His touch, his words, they were the reality check she needed. She shouldn’t be there. Shouldn’t be holding this child like this.
“He was upset. He’d been sick,” she choked out even though her throat felt as though it was clogged with cotton wool. “Here, take him. He doesn’t need me.”
She deftly transferred the sleeping child to Piers’s arms and tried to ignore the aching sense of emptiness that overcame her the second she let him go. Faye turned to make up the crib, keeping her back firmly to Piers. The moment she was done she left the room, not even trusting herself to speak another word.
Instead of returning to her office she took refuge in the ladies’ restroom on their floor. She turned on the faucet and dashed cold water over her wrists and then her face before straightening and looking at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was pale—her eyes shadowed, haunted. Somehow she had to pull herself together, go back to her desk and get on with her day, but she knew something had irrevocably changed for her back there in the nursery.
She couldn’t stay at this job. She couldn’t face every day watching Piers bond with Casey, watching Casey grow and develop from baby to toddler. It hurt too much. It was a constant, aching reminder of all she’d lost. Of the pain she’d endured for so long now. She’d thought she had it under control. She lived her life the way she wanted it, by creating distance between herself and others. There was no risk that way. No chance she’d lose her heart and face the hazards that loving someone else brought.
But now she was lost on a sea of change and swirling emotion that threatened to drown her. She had to go. Had to leave this place—leave Piers, the job she looked forward to every day. Leave the baby who’d stolen her heart despite her best efforts to remain aloof. She reached for a paper towel and wiped her face one last time before straightening her shoulders and setting her mouth into a grim line of determination.
She’d hand in her notice today. And she’d survive this. Somehow.
Twelve
“You’re resigning?” Piers couldn’t keep the shock from his voice. “But why? Are you unhappy here? I thought you loved your job.”
“I’m sorry, Piers. I’m giving you the required four week
s’ notice, effective from today, and I’ll contact HR straight away to begin recruitment.”
She was still pale and he could see she was holding on to her composure by the merest thread. Everything about her urged him to take her into his arms and to say that whatever it was that worried or frightened her so very much back there in the nursery, he would make it okay—if only she’d let him. And there was the rub. She wouldn’t let him, would she? She’d made being an island an art form. Though she was cordial and worked well with everyone, she had no true friends among the staff and, to the best of his knowledge, few, if any, close friends outside of work, either. Certainly, she was respected here in the office, but she was always strictly business and didn’t allow herself to be included in anything personal.
He’d returned to the office today much sooner than he’d expected. Halfway to meet his mother for an unexpected and apparently urgent meeting during a layover at LAX, she’d called and said she’d changed her mind and could they make it dinner on her way home from Tahiti in ten days’ time instead. He’d rolled his eyes and told himself he wasn’t disappointed. That he hadn’t dropped everything to spend some time with the woman who’d borne him. But he’d suggested that on her return she come to the house to meet Casey at the same time. It was rare that she was on the West Coast and he hoped to encourage some form of relationship between her and her grandson.
Upon his return, he’d been surprised to hear Faye through the monitor—to hear the raw emotion in her voice as she’d made an apology to someone. What was that name again? Henry. That was it. Was he the reason why she held herself so separate from everyone? He tucked the name away, determined to pass it on to his investigator the moment he’d dealt with the situation right now.
“I don’t want to lose you, Faye. You’re the best PA I’ve ever had, but you’re so much more to me than that. I’d hoped we could be—”
“I never asked for anything more than to be your assistant,” she interrupted. “I never made you any promises.”
The Christmas Baby Bonus Page 13
