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“I said, er, that would be just ducky.”
Luc appeared in the doorway. “Get off that phone. Now. And get in here. There’s something wrong with Toni.”
Without another word, she tossed the receiver onto the cradle and hurried after him. He crossed to the makeshift crib they’d constructed out of couch cushions and winter coats. “What is it?” she asked, standing beside him and peering down at the baby. “What’s wrong?”
“Look at her,” he ordered. “She’s foaming at the mouth. That’s bad, right? Don’t they shoot you when you do that?”
“She’s blowing bubbles,” Grace explained. “At three months, we say it’s cute. We frown on it when a child turns six. At thirteen, a stern reprimand is in order. It’s only bubble-blowing adults we shoot.”
“You’re certain?”
“Positive. Now for the next problem.”
He grimaced. “You mean the problem of getting any work done today?”
“No. The problem of diapers.”
“I’ll call Edward.”
“No, you won’t. I’ve already spoken to him about it and we need to know what size to order.”
“Small. Very small,” Luc decided promptly.
She flashed him a superior look. “It goes by weight.”
“Light. Very light.”
Her lips twitched, and an instant later Luc laughed, a low, rumbling sound that drew her in and before she knew it, forged yet another bond of intimacy between them. Unable to resist, she laughed, too. “This is crazy, isn’t it?” she asked with a wide, open smile.
“But fun. I have a niece. That’s a nice feeling.”
He slid an arm around Grace’s shoulders, tucking her close, and together they stared down at Toni. His hold felt comfortable. Too comfortable. She should move away. But she didn’t want to, not when they fit together so perfectly. With a tiny sigh, Grace gave in to the companionable mood and accepted his embrace. Hardly aware of what she did, she snuggled her head against his shoulder and relaxed her curves into his angles.
Just for this moment, she’d let down her guard and enjoy what the gods offered. It didn’t mean anything. She knew better than to take it seriously. But right now, after all she’d been through, she needed his touch as much as she needed food and drink. Maybe even more.
When had their relationship changed? Or had it been changing all along? They’d worked together for almost a year, enjoyed a business relationship that gradually teetered on the verge of something more personal. Today, it had tipped to the other side of the scale. The wrong side of the scale. And yet, when he held her close, when their bodies aligned so perfectly, how could it be wrong?
Though she kept her gaze fastened on the baby, her awareness of Luc intensified. It surged through her, sizzling nerve endings and generating an irresistible warmth. She wanted him in a way that had nothing to do with what an employee should want from a boss. If it weren’t for the baby, she’d turn into his arms, unable to resist. She’d wrap herself around him and kiss him, opening to him in a way she’d never opened herself to any other man.
But he was her employer. And she’d made an agreement with Dom which would be broken if she allowed this to go any further. Then there was the small problem of the baby. She had no business kissing Luc or doing anything else with him. Not with all that stood between them. And especially not if she hoped to open her own business.
“Listen.” His head bent closer to hers. “What’s she doing now?” he whispered.
“She’s cooing,” Grace whispered back, shivering at the warm brush of his breath across her face. For some reason all of her concerns and objections dissolved like fog off the bay beneath a hot sun.
“What does cooing mean? Is she hungry or is she wet?”
“I think it means she’s happy.”
“Ah, happy. That’s good.”
“Yes. Yes, it’s very good. Happy is excellent.” She turned into his arms and looked up at him, the strangely intense expression on his face catching her by surprise. Her hands clenched. “Luc?”
“Yes, Grace?”
“We need diapers.” Somehow she’d managed to gather a fistful of his shirt, clinging to him as though her life depended on it. She splayed her hands across his chest, smoothing out the wrinkles she’d created, her fingers lingering on the hard ridge of muscle beneath.
He shook his head. “I don’t need diapers. I do need something, and I need it very badly. But let me assure you, it’s not diapers.”
