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“But, it’s all a lie,” she protested. “Every bit of it. I’m not engaged to you. Brand and Carina aren’t married. Darn it, Luc, the baby’s not even a him.”
She saw the storm clouds gathering in his eyes, saw the fury and determination lock his expression into a cold, taut mask. “Let me explain something to you. I will not allow the police, or anyone else, to take Toni from me. I will do anything,anything, to protect her.”
She didn’t doubt him for a minute. And she could even sympathize with his feelings. The Salvatores were a close, unified family. All for one and one for all had long been their credo. If truth be told, she did feel a certain obligation to Luc. After all, hadn’t she spent the past year lying to him? She owed him a lie. But only a small, short-term one. After that, she’d consider them even.
“What do you want from me?” she asked warily.
He had her and knew it. He relaxed, the fire in his eyes dying until the gold gleamed like banked embers. His grip relaxed into a caress. “Not much. I just want you to stay with me, posing as my fiancée should the need arise, until Carina or Brand return.”
“Two hours. That’s all you get,” she bargained.
“Not good enough. I need you until my brother picks up Toni.”
“No.”
He gave her a wounded look. “You’d desert me in my hour of need?”
“Yes.”
“You’d leave Brand and Carina in the lurch?”
“Without question. We’ve been through this before. Remember?”
“So we have,” he agreed softly, releasing her. “I believe this is where I ask if you’d turn your back on a helpless baby. As I recall that seemed to make a difference last time.”
She really, truly tried to refuse. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t desert Toni, no matter how mad she was at Luc. “You don’t play fair,” she complained.
“No,” he agreed. He caught her hand in his and raised it to his lips in a graceful gesture. Then he smiled, a most charming, dangerous smile. “I play to win.”
Chapter 3
The Great Lie
Day 337 continues to worsen . . .
“No, no!That’s too much. It says here three scoops of formula to six ounces of water. Dammit, Grace, now look what you’ve done. You’ve spilled it!”
“I spilled it?” Grace shoved a tumble of curls out of her eyes and glared at Luc. “You jostled my arm.”
“Well, your arm was in my way. This time watch what you’re doing or you’ll knock it—” The bottle clattered off the desk, milk soaking into the rug.
She released a long suffering sigh. “Knock it to the floor?”
“Get another bottle. This one’s contaminated. We’ll have to start over.”
“We can’t.”
He planted his hands on his hips. “And why not?”
“Simple.” She struggled to remain cool, calm, and collected in the face of staggering odds—namely one Luc Salvatore. “We’re out of bottles.”
“Not for long.” He marched to the interoffice phone, snatched the handset from the cradle, and punched some buttons. “Edward? I want you to arrange for an infant car seat, just in case we need to take the baby somewhere. We’re also out of bottles. Order up another batch. And send out for more formula, too. Grace has gone clumsy on me.”
“How could I have ever thought he was charming?” she muttered, struggling to repin her hair in its customary knot. “Charming, in a pig’s eye. I must have been out of my mind.”
He slapped his hand over the receiver. “What’s that? Did you say something?”
“I said, make sure he gets the right kind.”
