by Robyn Grady
Smiling up at her husband, Jenna walked with him out the door. “I think you’re right.”
They spent the afternoon talking to the baby, feeding the baby, burping then singing to the baby. After six hours, Jenna was bushed. So was Meg.
Tina popped her head out from her room as Jenna was preparing to put Meg down. “Everything going well?”
Gage was folding the picnic blanket. “Absolutely. Thanks, Tina.” Whistling, he continued on to the laundry room, not a usual occurrence in a billionaire’s day.
Tina joined Jenna and cooed at Meg. “She had a bath before our drive. We’ll give her another in the morning.” She straightened and smiled at Jenna. “Need any help putting her down?”
Jenna hadn’t been sure of Tina when they’d first met, and she’d jumped to the wrong conclusions about possible bribes and lack of responsibility when she’d seen her earlier today. But now Jenna got the best feeling that she and Tina would know and like each other for a long time to come.
She smiled. “I’d like to try to put her down myself. I’ll call if I need help.”
Tina nodded then pressed a kiss to Meg’s brow. Eyes heavy, the baby yawned. “She’s ready for a night’s sleep. Lay her in the cot, sing her a lullaby. She’ll fuss but nod off quickly.”
Twenty minutes later, she and Gage stood in the nursery with the nightlight casting slow spinning stars over the ceiling and walls. Meg was still in Jenna’s arms, and more than a little fussy. She did not want to go down. For the first time all afternoon, Jenna felt her insecurities taking over.
She murmured as she gently rubbed Meg’s back. “It’s okay, sweetie. Aunt Jenna’s here.”
Nearby, Gage scrubbed his jaw. “She needs another bottle.”
“She’s just a little out of sorts in a new environment. I’ll put her down again.” Surely she’d nod off this time.
But five minutes later, Meg had worked up a steady cry. Her face was red and her poor little mouth was trembling. Jenna had sung and sung, and held her wee hand, while Gage paced up a storm in the background.
He shoveled a hand through his hair and joined her by the cot. “I’ll get Tina.”
At her wits’ end, Jenna was about to give in and agree when a thought struck her. “Let me try something first.”
She scooped a whimpering Meg up and handed her to Gage, who reacted by standing stock-still. His voice cracked. “What do you want me to do with her?”
“Hold her a minute.”
Jenna straightened the cot blanket then headed for the nightlight while Meg hiccupped and shuddered out a breath. With fumbling fingers, Jenna managed to find the switch and stop the stars from spinning.
She pivoted back to Gage. “Maybe there was too much stimulation—”
Her words trailed off. Just like that, Meg’s eyes had shut. No crying. No movement. Her mouth was parted and, free from her rug, her little arm hung over Gage’s.
Gage’s eyes were round with amazement. He shrugged. “What did I do?”
Jenna wanted to laugh out loud. She threw up her arms. “I have no idea.”
But in truth, maybe she did. Despite their past, she always felt safest when she was bundled in Gage’s arms. Why should Meg feel any different?
They stood there, simply enjoying watching her sleep. Her cheeks were pink and chubby, a tiny dimple in her chin. Thank heaven she was healthy.
Jenna finally whispered, “Do you want to ease her down onto the mattress?”
“I need to hold her a bit longer. Just to be sure.”
Jenna kept her eyes on Gage, who kept his eyes on Meg.
She smiled. “I think you’re right.”
Two hours later, Gage sat in the nursery’s comfortable corner lounge, Meg still in his arms. He’d fallen asleep not long after Meg. He’d been up since three that morning; seemed it had been a tiring day all around.
Legs drawn up, chin resting on her knees, Jenna hugged her shins and watched from the cushioned window seat. She didn’t want Meg to fall from Gage’s arms. But in her heart Jenna knew that wasn’t possible. The baby looked as if she belonged there and perhaps in slumber Meg felt it, too.
Jenna was still drinking in the picture when Gage awoke. His chest inflated then, eyes shooting open, he moved to sit up straight. Immediately he remembered the baby and gingerly settled back down. He gazed at Meg for a long moment before he searched the room.
Feeling all syrupy and warm, Jenna eased up and stretched her back. “I think we can put her down now,” she whispered.
Gage took a few moments to push to his feet. Jenna smoothed the sheets then stood back as Gage lowered the baby. Meg didn’t move a muscle.
Jenna held her breath as a bone-chilling thought hit her. “Is she breathing?”
Gage’s hand zipped down to hover near her nose then drew back. “Definitely breathing.”
He threaded an arm around her waist and Jenna leaned in. So warm and big.
“Thank you.”
He pulled her close. “My pleasure. Which reminds me…” He angled her around, set his forehead against hers then stole the softest kiss. “Bed for the grown-ups sounds like a good idea.”
“A very good idea,” she murmured against his lips.
He watched over Meg while she showered. Then she took the watch while he cleaned up. When they finally climbed into bed in the room connected to the nursery, they didn’t sleep, didn’t make love. Rather they both lay there, staring at the ceiling.
“Do you think she’ll wake through the night?” Jenna asked.
Gage crooked an arm to cup a palm under his head. “If she does, we’ll hear her.”
Of course, he was right. There was nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.
In the dark, Gage rolled over to face her. She could distinguish the outline of his shoulder and the white of his smile in the shadows. “You suit being a mother.”
“You suit being a dad.”
She felt him stiffen and a shrinking head-tingling sensation dropped through her.
It had slipped out. She knew very well Gage’s position. He didn’t want to be a father. This situation was temporary…a ruse with good sex thrown in. It was never meant to be, and obviously never would be anything else.
Following an interminable silence, he rolled onto his back. “We should get some sleep.”
But Jenna lay awake for what seemed like hours. And she could tell by his breathing that Gage did the same—staring at the ceiling and wondering, just like her.
Ten
Jenna woke with a start.
Something—a baby—was squealing.
In a single heartbeat, the day and night before flashed into her brain.
Meg! Something was wrong.
In her pink singlet and matching shorts, she sprang out of bed, tripping over herself to get to the nursery. When she flew in the room, Gage was already there, lifting her niece out of the cot. The squealing, Jenna realized, was a sound of pure delight. With care, Gage swung the baby round on his arm so she sat perched facing Jenna, baby blues wide and twinkling.
Slumping with relief, Jenna pushed her palm against her pounding heart. Then she marched over and spoke softly to Meg. “You scared me, baby.”
“It’s after seven.” Gage jiggled Meg and she giggled. “We’ve got ourselves a sleeper.”
Jenna’s heartbeat kicked. He’d never looked more handsome—dark hair mussed, masculine chest bared, his open expression devoid of any thought other than the tiny human being relying on him at this moment. He was so capable. So strong.
To her soul Jenna knew that from this point on, Gage would be the only man to ever kiss or touch her. She’d believed that before they’d met again; now, having given him her virginity, she was certain of it. She was just as sure about herself and Meg needing to be together.
A question formed in her mind before she could tamp it down.
How could he not change his mind about family now that he’d been with Meg, even if it had only been for a single day? She h
adn’t believed it was possible, but after this time spent together, she was even more hooked than before. She only wished now it could be the three of them—not pretending, but for real.
Gage’s easy expression shifted as if he realized how he must look. Like a family man. Everything he didn’t want long term.
A muscle beat in his jaw as he offered her the baby.
Jenna thought of making some excuse for him to hold her longer and reinforce in his mind how right this baby must feel in his arms. But that wouldn’t be fair. All she’d prayed for was an answer to her problem, and hopefully her prayer would be answered by the intervention of the most unlikely person. She must be happy with the solution and not hold out for another miracle.
Gage hadn’t said or done anything to indicate that he’d changed his mind. When this was over, he would leave, and he’d take her heart with him. But she would try not to mourn—not this time. That wouldn’t be fair on anyone, including Meg.
She took the baby and the day progressed. First a change, then a breakfast bottle, then a bath. Gage stood a little closer than he had the day before, dribbling the washcloth over Meg’s round little tummy, laughing when Meg splashed and chirped and squealed.
Over a game of “clap hands,” Gage took a video using his cell phone, as well as several photos, some with the baby alone, then with Tina. Finally Tina took a few of the three of them together—Jenna, Gage and Meg. Tina said she’d like a copy.
At eleven o’clock it was time to leave. Time for breaking hearts.
Outside, while Gage locked up and Tina pulled her car around, Jenna held the baby, her lips pressed to Meg’s satin-soft brow. Her mind wouldn’t work, refusing to go forward and contemplate the next few minutes. She closed her eyes as tears leaked from the corners. Her chest felt as if it had caved in and her spirit had been crushed beneath the weight.
This is where you belong. How can I let you go again? If I don’t get you back, how will I bear it?
She simply had to win guardianship. Gage’s plan—this pretend marriage—had to work.
“Jenna, it’s time.”
She needed every ounce of willpower to open her eyes and meet his gaze. Gage’s expression was almost impassive, as if he’d turned off his feelings. But when his nostrils flared the barest amount, she was certain this was hard for him, as well.
Because he didn’t want to see Jenna hurt? Or because he was hurting too?
Gage put out his hands, palms up. “I’ll buckle her in.”
Jenna held her breath, felt her eyes go wide, and told herself to just do it.
When the baby left her arms, the air in Jenna’s lungs evaporated. It felt as if her soul had been ripped away.
Tina appeared beside her. “I’ll take good care of her until next time.”
Jenna nodded even as her heart broke open like an empty shell. Yes, there would be a next time and maybe soon an all the time. She had to stay focused on that or how would she make it through these coming days?
Still, when Tina’s car drove off down the crushed pebbled drive, Jenna felt her heart go, too.
Gage wrapped his arms around her, rocking her gently with his chin resting on her crown. “Be brave a while longer.”
She swallowed against the anguish stinging her eyes and nose. Then she filled her lungs deeply and looked up into those thoughtful pale gray eyes.
“When this is over,” Jenna said, “and Meg’s home to stay, we’re going to have the biggest damn party ever thrown.”
The smile almost reached his eyes.
He tucked her head back under his chin. “You bet we will.”
Sitting out on the penthouse’s main balcony four days later, Jenna ran her gaze over Sydney’s sparkling cityscape and sighed. Would that big party ever be thrown, or was she still just kidding herself?
Of course, nothing could go forward with Meg until after Gage’s meeting with Leeann at the end of the week. Patience was needed as well as trust in her husband’s judgment. Still, the clawing anticipation of the final outcome kept dragging her down. She was only grateful that, despite his own worries, Gage seemed to be doing his utmost to keep her spirits high.
Gage joined her on the balcony, a carafe of juice in hand to go with lunch. Halfway into his rattan chair, his cell phone sounded. Growling, he set the carafe down heavily enough for the orange juice to splash on the cloth.
Jenna pressed her lips together. Normally he was so cool—effortlessly in charge—yet lately the more his phone rang or that fax beeped, the more edgy he became. The Meg dilemma might be Jenna’s sole upset, but she couldn’t forget that Gage was an important man with a load of responsibilities, which she couldn’t begin to imagine.
She’d heard Dubai mentioned several times and more than wondered whether his negotiations with the hotel consortium he’d spoken of briefly were facing major problems. On numerous occasions after taking a call, he would disappear inside his master suite for an hour at a time. Sometimes she’d hear him yelling. Now that phone was pressed to his ear again.
She gazed down at her meal. She’d be finishing her shelled lobster alone. Or what she could of it. Although it looked better than delicious, she had little appetite these days.
Concentrating on the call, Gage’s brow creased. “Yes, I see.” An eyebrow flexed. “Is that right?” A smile spread across his face. “That’s marvelous. See you then.”
Jenna pushed balsamic-dressed lettuce around her plate. “Good news?” For a change?
Gage swept up the carafe and filled her glass then his own. “That was my lawyer.”
Jenna’s ears pricked. “Lance?”
Was he calling about their petition for guardianship? Perhaps there’d been an early date set, or a judge assigned who might be sympathetic toward their case.
“My contractual lawyer, Jenna, not personal.”
Hope fading, she set her fork down. “Oh.”
“Not just oh. He spoke with Darley Realty’s financial controller. Mr. Arnold asked that the preliminary documentation be put in order in the event of a buyout going through.”
“But we already know Leeann wants you to buy the company. It’s no good to her in the state it’s in. Anything you offer would be a boon. That doesn’t mean at this stage that she’s willing to give up Meg for a deal.”
His mouth slanted with a mysterious grin. “It tells me she’s seriously thinking about it. The afternoon we arrived back from our day in the country with Meg, I took the liberty of pushing our hand.”
Jenna stopped breathing. “Go on.”
“I made her a verbal offer, an obscene amount of money if she signed two sets of documents. One as the vendor for Darley Realty, the other, a legally binding statement that specifies you and me as the best guardians for Meg. It states all the reasons we’ve put forward in our petition, and will give permission between the two parties for us to take Meg home immediately.”
Jenna’s heart hammered a wonderful staccato against her ribs. The sky looked suddenly bluer. Even the sun felt warmer on her skin. “We won’t have to go to court?”
“We’ll still have a judge sanction the decision. Clearly, if the testamentary guardian relinquishes responsibility to a blood relative—the deceased’s own twin—there’ll be no objection. At the end of the day the court wants the best for the child.” He grinned. “You’re the best.”
She jumped out of her chair and threw her arms around his neck. “I can’t believe it! Maybe you should pinch me.”
“The offer is on the table until the day of our meeting. The following day the offer will be halved. The next day I’ll tell Leeann to shove the business and we’ll win Meg back through the courts.”
Jenna shivered. Ruthless man. “I’m glad you’re on my side.”
He drew her down onto his lap. “So am I.”
She loved him. It was that simple. She always had and always would. The rebel she’d once known had a good heart, even if it were an incredibly lonely and, in some ways, damaged one. But she wouldn’t
let her mind wander to places where it might get lost. If she tried to cling to dreams she couldn’t hold, she might slip and fall again into that deep dark hole—the one she’d barely been able to claw back out from when he’d left her the last time.
But she had him here and now. For as long as it lasted, she wouldn’t waste a minute, not a second. Every tick of the clock was precious, another memory to live on and last for the rest of her life.
She grazed a fingertip over his bottom lip then back again. “Perhaps we should continue our celebration inside.”
His fingers threaded up through her hair and brought her head down to his.
He kissed her until she couldn’t fathom which way was up and then, as if she weighed no more than a bag full of feathers, he rose to his feet with her slung in his arms. “It just so happens I have a bottle of vintage Bollinger chilling as we speak.”
“What? No party balloons?”
He headed for the bedroom. “Not the kind you’re thinking.”
They didn’t emerge from the bedroom until much later, and only to order in food—club sandwiches, extra fries, and lemon meringue pie with two giant bowls of whipped cream.
Enjoying a sit-down picnic on the living room rug, Gage leant back on one arm, swallowed a mouthful of pie and chuckled.
Jenna’s spoon stopped midway to her mouth. “What’s funny?”
“A dollop of cream’s hanging from your chin.”
Jenna brushed her face, felt the cream smear then saw it on her hand.
“I don’t have any bibs.” He licked his spoon, front then back. “But I’d be happy to feed you, if that’d help.”
She grinned. Smart aleck.
“You’re so sweet,” she gushed. “But if one of us needs a bib…” She scooped up a finger full of pie and wiped it down his chest. “I think it might be you.”
When he met her gaze again, a look of bedevilment shone in his eyes. “You shouldn’t have done that, Jenna. There’s an awful lot of cream and meringue here.”
