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Mrs. Bumgartle looked from Luc to Grace, her gaze finally settling with needlepoint sharpness on Luc. “You, Mr. Salvatore, are up to something,” she said in clear, carrying tones. “And I suspect it’s nothing good.” With that she disappeared back into her apartment.
Luc sighed in exasperation. “Great. Just great. Open the door, Grace, and let’s get out of the hallway before we wake up the entire apartment complex.”
“Here.” Passing him the baby, Grace applied herself to the unyielding lock with due diligence. A moment later the door swung inward.
Grace held out her arms for Toni and stepped into Luc’s apartment, fumbling for the light. Luc picked up the numerous bags of groceries and baby paraphernalia, kicked the clutter of baby food jars in the general direction of the entranceway, and followed her in. He fought to close the door.
“You’ve left half the jars outside,” she informed him.
“Since you’re so certain we don’t need any baby food, the jars can stay out there until I’m good and ready to lug them in.” His jaw inched out and he leaned down until his nose almost touched hers. “You have a problem with that?”
“Not I,” she assured him. “Mrs. Bumgartle might, however.”
“You leave Mrs. Bumgartle to me.” He dropped his armload to the floor of the front hall. “I’ll talk to her.”
A tiny, unladylike snort escaped. “Charm her you mean, like you do every other woman in the world? Or perhaps the operative word is lie.”
Luc merely glanced at her, then dug through their purchases until he uncovered the portable crib. It took him less than a minute to open it and settle Toni inside. He carried the baby into the living room and turned to confront Grace. “For your information, Ms. Barnes, I never lie.”
“Oh, really? What do you call that story you told the police?”
“A truth-to-be,” came the prompt reply. “Because the truth is, we are babysitting my niece. And the truth is, Brand and Carina will return for Toni. And the truth is, they will soon be married or suffer the consequences.”
“What about our so-called engagement?”
He shook his head. “I think we’ll save that particular truth for a future discussion. I’m not proud of what I did today. But I considered it imperative. I hate lying and I hate liars.” He eyed her closely. “Which is why I get along so well with you, Grace.”
A blush lit her face and she prayed he would attribute it to embarrassment rather than sudden, intense guilt. Because if he ever uncovered her conspiracy with Dom, Luc would be very, very angry. It would also change everything between them, and she realized for the first time how much she’d hate that change. “Luc—”
“As far as charming women,” he interrupted ruthlessly, “of course I’m charming to women. I told you. I love women. I adore women. They’re easy to be charming to. What’s wrong with that?”
She took a hasty step back. “Nothing.”
He swallowed the distance between them in one stride. “If,” he continued, his voice dipping low and taking on a raspy edge, “you weren’t so cold and remote, I’d have been more charming toward you. That, along with one other thing, has held me back these past eleven months.”
Grace swallowed nervously. “What’s the one other thing?” she dared to ask.
“Your engagement,” he responded promptly. “And do you know why?”
“No,” she whispered.
He offered a dangerous smile, the subdued lighting causing his eyes to gleam like buried treasure. “Because I don’t poach.” He took another step toward her, his smile turning predatory. “Until now.” And then he reached for her.
“No!” Grace shook her head frantically, pushing against his chest. “You’re only saying that to... to...”
Luc tilted his head to one side. “To what?”
To drive me crazy. To tempt me beyond endurance. “To give me a hard time,” she insisted, leaping at the only safe excuse she could think of. “But it’s not true. Maybe if I were beautiful like your other women—”
He cut through her words without hesitation. “All women are beautiful. Even women who hide behind these.” He slipped off her glasses, dangling them carelessly from one finger.
“I need those!” She made a grab for the glasses, but he tossed than aside with casual disregard. They hit the couch, bounced once, and settled in the middle of the soft cushions, the lenses offering a sly wink.
“You need them?” he asked. She couldn’t mistake the irony in his voice.
Did he know? Did he suspect the glasses were part of her disguise? She didn’t dare lie. Not when he watched her with a hawk-sharp gaze. Not when she felt so vulnerable, stripped of the defenses she’d worked long and hard to maintain between them. Instead, she fought his hold. “Luc, stop it!”
He didn’t listen. Nor did he release her. “What I don’t understand is why.” His fingers slid into her hair, scattering the pins so the heavy curls tumbled free. “Why would a woman as beautiful as you—”
