Happy New Year--Baby!

by Marie Ferrarella

  The pain in her eyes was almost palpable. “Is that it?” It was a rhetorical question. “Did Craig walk out on you?”

  She looked down at her hands. Why had she started this? She was normally so closemouthed, so adept at keeping her own counsel. What was it about him that made her babble like some damn proverbial brook?

  “In a manner of speaking,” she said quietly. “But it wasn’t just Craig.”

  He knew the basic facts surrounding Logan, but he wasn’t interested in Logan now. He was interested in her. “Who else walked out on you, Nicole?”

  She rose. He wanted to take her into his arms, to comfort her, but she didn’t need comfort at this moment. She needed to talk, he thought, to get this out of her system.

  “Come on, Nicole,” he coaxed softly. “You can tell me.”

  Her mouth hardened. “Nobody.”

  She’d already said far more than she was comfortable with, far more than she’d told anyone. Right now, she just wanted to crawl into bed and pull the covers over her head. Later, she’d find a way to deal with all this. With the idea of having twins and Standish and the restructuring of her whole world.

  Right now, she was just bone tired.

  Dennis let it go. Instead, he left the kitchen and went into the nursery. The dog trotted after him. After a moment, curious, ashamed of her behavior, Nicole followed. She stopped in the doorway. He had repaired the bureau. Nicole felt tears gathering in her eyes.

  He felt her presence. After a moment, he closed his toolbox and rose to face her. “Twins run in your family?” he asked mildly.

  His tone defused the situation. “Discord ran in my family.” She roused herself. “Sorry. No, no twins. At least, not in mine.”

  He drew the only logical conclusion he could from her words. “Were there twins in your husband’s family?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She hated to admit that. She didn’t know. She didn’t know anything about Craig. Everything she had thought she’d known about Craig had turned out to be a lie, fed to her for effect. Craig Logan had laid a trap for a rich brat. As it turned out, it had sprung on both of them. She hadn’t gotten the husband she had thought she was getting, and he hadn’t gotten the money he was expecting. Her grandmother’s legacy was nowhere near the amount Craig had thought went along with the wedding vows.

  Nicole knotted her hands in front of her. She’d been every bit the fool her father had accused her of being and it cost her to admit it, even to herself.

  She saw Dennis looking at her. “Craig didn’t talk much about his family.”

  “Estranged?” Dennis guessed.

  “Yes.” It was as good a description as any, especially since she didn’t know if Craig even had any family members who were still alive. No one had crawled out of the woodwork to claim filial ties when he started becoming famous on the racing circuit. “There was a lot of that going around.”

  He knew she was referring to her own family. “You’re going to need help with the twins.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  Nicole scrubbed her hands over her face. This placed an entirely different perspective on things. She could be stubbornly independent where her own welfare was concerned. And maybe, feeling that she could make it, she could even remain steadfast about not accepting help where a single child was involved. But two children? Lines had to be drawn somewhere. Or rather, she amended, erased.

  Much as she hated doing it, she was going to have to talk to Marlene about her trust fund. She came into it at thirty. She needed it now. How ironic. Only last week, when Marlene had asked her when she was going to forgive her father and accept the money, she’d answered maybe someday.

  Someday had arrived quickly. She knew Marlene was ready and willing to advance her money against the fund. Up until now, she had refused.

  But up until this morning, she had only been having one baby. No matter how she figured it, she fell painfully short. There was no way out but to take the money she had vehemently sworn she’d never touch.

  She could almost hear her father saying, “I knew you would come around.”

  She still looked dazed. Dennis felt helpless. Maybe the furniture would take her mind off everything for a while. “Would you like to go shopping for the furniture now? All I have to do is make a call.”

  He’d fixed her disposal, brought her a dog, slept on her sofa to allay her fears. And she’d done nothing but snap at him. “I wish you weren’t being as nice as you are.”

  “I’ll rough you up later.” A look leaped into her eyes that he recognized as apprehension. Things were becoming clearer. The bastard. “That was a joke, Nicole. Did Craig—?”

  She’d tripped herself up enough for one day. “I’m not answering any more questions without a lawyer.”

  “I am a lawyer,” he reminded her.

  “Yes, but you’re not mine.” She sighed and smiled ruefully. “If you’re really on the level, I suppose I shouldn’t keep pushing you away.” But if something was too good to be true, the odds were that it wasn’t true. Craig had taught her that, too. “You’ll forgive me, but it’s just that I keep waiting for you to tell me what you want in exchange for all this.”

  He knew he could look very guileless when he wanted to. But part of the answer was true. “Friendship.”

  That couldn’t be all. “And?”

  Dennis blew out a breath. He took the wariness in her eyes personally, even though at bottom he knew he deserved it. “Your firstborn if you can’t spin straw into gold by sunrise.”

  Nicole laughed, the tension easing away again. “Funny, you don’t look like Rumpelstiltskin.”

  “I’m not.”

  I’m something worse, he thought. A liar and a fraud.

  Chapter 9

  Nicole picked her way through the nursery holding a cold can of soda. Maneuvering in the small room was not easy. She handed the can to Dennis.

  He shoved the screwdriver he was using into his back pocket as he accepted the soda. “Thanks.”

  It should be she who was thanking him. Over and over, Nicole thought.

  She looked around the crowded nursery. “It looks as if today was Christmas.”

  The bedroom was crammed with several large, flat cardboard boxes. Two were now empty. Four more still housed baby furniture waiting to be assembled. The bounty was the result of two trips to the Tiny Tots Furnishings factory. From the moment they had entered, they were in the care of the owner, Rick Abrahams. Exuding gratitude, the man couldn’t seem to do enough for Dennis.

  She was beginning to understand the feeling. Dennis had been at it since late this morning, assembling first a bassinet and now one of the new cribs. She had absolutely no idea how to thank him. Not that he wanted any thanks. He seemed to just enjoy being helpful. That made him a pretty special man in her book.

  He looked around for somewhere to rest the can. Nicole took it from him and placed it on top of the newly repaired bureau.

  “I still can’t believe he gave this all to us at cost.” And even that had been under protest. The man had wanted to give it for free. “Just how much of a savings did you get from Mr. Abrahams?”

  There’d been a moment in the factory when he had been afraid Abrahams was going to slip and tell Nicole the agony he had gone through, not knowing whether his son was alive or dead. When he had called ahead for an appointment, Dennis had cautioned the man not to say anything. Abrahams had been more than happy to go along with any story Dennis wanted to tell. But lying always became complicated.

  The screw that had been included to attach the metal frame to the wooden rails was too large. Dennis strained, forcing it into the small hole in the wood.

  “You’re confusing tax lawyer with tax accountant,” he told her matter-of-factly. “He had a very creative bookkeeper who never filed returns, just pocketed the tax money himself. He left the country, leaving Mr. Abrahams woefully in arrears with the IRS.”

  She tried not to stare at his biceps as they tensed whil
e he worked the screwdriver. “Did you ever find the bookkeeper?”

  There, in. He began working on the next screw. This one matched the hole. “Nope.”

  She thought of the man Dennis had introduced her to. Pity filled her. “I guess that justice only prevails on the movie of the week.”

  “Sometimes,” he agreed. He liked to think that once in a while, he made a difference. “Sometimes it holds its own.”

  She was beginning to realize that he was modest to a fault when it came to his own merits. “Tell me.”

  He stopped and looked at her over his shoulder. She had said the words the way a little girl asking for a bedtime story might. “Tell you what?”

  She felt tired. She had felt tired all day and wanted to sit down. But it didn’t seem right, not when he was working so hard to assemble her funiture. She remained on her feet, hoping to help somehow.

  “About your cases.”

  “Why?” He laughed shortly. “Do you want to take a nap?”

  He was being modest again. She had a feeling he wasn’t the type of man who did mundane things. Things became special in his hands, she thought. This time, she was sure she was right. It wasn’t the way it had been with Craig. Dennis just looked too honest to be anything but the man he professed to be: simple, kind and yet exciting.

  “They can’t be that dull.”

  He didn’t feel like inventing stories. He’d lied enough to her as it was.

  “Yes, they can.” He tested the side of the crib. It felt sturdy. “This is my vacation, the last thing I want to do is talk shop.”

  She watched him as he picked up the headboard and leaned it against the railing. “I would think that the last thing you’d want to do is spend your vacation with a pregnant woman, helping her assemble baby furniture.”

  He was going to need help with this, he decided. “Maybe I like baby furniture.” Dennis leaned the railing against the wall for a moment, resting the headboard next to it. He looked at her. Her brow was a little puckered and there was a slight bead of perspiration along her hairline. Swollen stomach and all, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. “Or maybe I just like the pregnant woman.”

  Very gently, he tilted her chin up until her eyes met his. When they did, he brushed his lips lightly over hers. It was all he would allow himself. Anything more and his mind wouldn’t be on his work any longer.

  He grinned, withdrawing his hand. “Yup, that must be it.” His eyes teased hers.

  She felt like a kid, she thought. Pregnant twice over, the target of some hoodlums, and she still felt like giggling. He did this to her, she thought. He did that for her. “What?”

  Dennis turned back to his work. “I like assembling baby furniture.”

  Nicole laughed and shook her head. All of her reservations had fallen by the wayside in the last few days, sliding away like the cocoon surrounding a butterfly in the summer. She trusted him. It felt wonderful not to be suspicious, not to be wary. It was as if a weight had been removed from her shoulders. He’d pitched in and helped her get the apartment back together again, even salvaging some of the Christmas decorations, carefully packing them away. He had been attentive, helpful and at times he seemed to second guess her, knowing what she wanted before she said a word. At night, they stayed in and watched videos or just talked. She couldn’t remember when she had been happier.

  She had almost forgotten about the break-in. Dennis made her feel safe, protected. Though she had initially resisted her feelings, it was no use. She could feel her heart being drawn toward him.

  He was one in a million.

  And he deserved to know it, she thought. Especially after the way she had originally treated him, like a pariah when all he wanted to do was “be neighborly.”

  Her mouth twisted in a smile as she watched him. He was hunkered down, fiddling with a screw at the bottom of the railing. She moved closer to him, talking to the top of his head.

  “I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you, but I want you to know that I am grateful.”

  Her words cut through him like a knife. He didn’t want her gratitude. He didn’t deserve it. “Don’t.”

  He had almost snapped the warning at her. Why? “What?”

  Dennis rose without facing her. He unconsciously pressed his lips together, suppressing the urge to tell her the truth: that he was a Justice Department agent investigating her husband’s connection to an organized crime syndicate. He wasn’t free to tell her any of that, which only made what she said worse.

  “Don’t be grateful, Nicole.”

  Was it so hard for him to accept her thanks? “You make that sound ominous.”

  He kept his back to her. “No, gratitude tends to color the way you see things.” He reached for a smaller screwdriver with a wider head. “You should always keep your eyes open.”

  Dennis sounded as if he didn’t want her gratitude. That did make him one in a million. “Now there’s a first, a man warning me away from him.” The ones she had known would have used her feelings to take advantage of her. “All my life, I’ve had men trying to talk me out of my clothes and into bed on the slightest excuse and here you are, pushing me away.”

  He turned around to face her. “I’m not pushing you away. I’m moralizing.” This was getting too serious. He grinned. “Lawyers like to do that once in a while. You know, all those unused ethics floating around.”

  Uncomfortable with the look in her eyes, with the feeling flowing through his own veins, Dennis shifted his attention back to the crib.

  Like a photographer arranging a pose, he placed her hands on top of the railing. “Here, hold on to this for me, will you?”

  This was the first time he’d asked her to do anything. Every time she volunteered, he’d told her to sit down and watch. When she protested, he had said she’d only get in the way.

  Amusement curved her mouth. “Sure that’s not too technical for me?”

  He couldn’t help himself. Cupping the back of her head, he kissed her again. He had to stop doing that, he thought. A man could get accustomed to a habit like that. Too accustomed.

  “Maybe.” He winked at her. “But I think you’re up to it.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” She clenched her teeth to keep from wincing as a strange twinge zipped through her. She slanted a look to see if Dennis had noticed. To her relief, he hadn’t. If Dennis thought she was in pain, Nicole knew that he wouldn’t let her do anything.

  Dennis quickly attached the other two sides to the ones that Nicole was keeping upright. Dropping the springs onto the iron rungs, he made sure that they held. When they seemed secure, he snaked his way under the bed.

  “Can I let go now?” The backs of her legs were beginning to ache. The pain she felt had shot up into her spine.

  “Complain, complain. Almost,” he answered. “I’m almost finished.” Carefully, he tightened one screw, then another in each of the four corners.

  Bored, Romeo followed Dennis under the crib. Looking for attention, the animal began to lick his arm.

  Surprised, Dennis almost dropped the screwdriver as he hit his head against the springs. “Hey!”

  Nicole suppressed a laugh. “I think he feels left out.”

  “He’s too damn spoiled.” Dennis moved Romeo back with the point of his elbow. “Moira lets these dogs run her life.” He let out an exasperated breath as the dog whined. Romeo was clearly put out because he was prevented from licking Dennis’s face. “Call him or something.”

  “Come here, Romeo.” The dog gave no indication that he heard. She laughed. “Boy, some guard dog you brought me.”

  “You probably have to scream when you call him.” Finished, Dennis slid out from under the crib springs and sat up. He realized she was still holding the railing. “You can let go now.”

  Romeo scooted out, scrambling to his oversize feet beside Dennis. The dog began to whine again, this time tugging on Dennis’s shirt.

  Maybe getting her the dog had been a bad ide
a. Dennis pulled his shirt out of the dog’s mouth. “What is it, boy? Did Timmy fall down the well again?”

  Nicole was beginning to identify the different noises the dog made. “No, but I think that Lassie may need to be walked.”

  Nicole was probably right. Dennis stood up, wiping his hands on the back of his jeans. He tossed the screwdriver into the open toolbox. As he began to cross to the door, the dog eagerly pranced ahead of him.

  “Okay, I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he told Nicole. “Don’t—”

  She rolled her eyes, but the annoyance she would have felt only a week ago wasn’t there. It was nice to have someone care about her. “—Open the door to anyone, yes I know.” Her smile was affectionate. “I think I have that part down.”

  “See that you do.” How had she managed to get under his skin so fast when he had tried so hard to keep her out? The dog whined again. “All right, all right, I’m coming, dog.”

  Grabbing the leash from the kitchen table where he had dropped it last, Dennis attached it to the dog’s collar. When he opened the door, Romeo yanked him across the threshold. Dennis just managed to slam the door in his wake before he was off and running behind the dog.

  Romeo was eighty-five pounds of sheer energy and urgency.

  They took a path along the perimeter of the complex. It had become incredibly familiar in the last few days. Funny how quickly routines took hold, Dennis thought. It felt as if he’d been involved in this one for a long time instead of less than a week.

  He wondered how much longer it would be before he was on another assignment and Nicole was continuing on with her life—without him. More than that he wondered what she would say if she knew that the man she was obviously growing to trust was not who he pretended to be. What would she say if she knew that Dennis Lincoln, tax lawyer, did not exist?

  Dennis shook off the thought. That didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was finding the disk. What he had told Winston last week was true. He firmly believed that somehow, Nicole knew without knowing she knew. Nicole was the link.