Special Deliveries: Wanted: A Mother For His Baby

Four

Little about Blake’s East Hampton home had changed since she’d been here last summer. Painted a soothing pearl gray, trimmed in white, it was expansive and elegant on the outside, with dormer windows that overlooked the sprawling front lawn and gardens. Now Bella stood in the middle of the elegant entry drinking in the vast open floor plan before her attention was drawn to the expensive white furniture.

Everything about the house inspired awe. Including the owner.

Blake stood before the two-story windows at the back of the house, staring toward the beach. Bella couldn’t see past his broad shoulders, clad in a pale blue oxford button-down, to see the pool and glittering ocean beyond. Behind him, a large portrait of his ex-wife stared at him from above the fireplace.

Casting about, Bella noticed several other photos of the stunningly beautiful Victoria Ford, alone and smiling blissfully from the circle of Blake’s arms. Given how dismissive he’d been of his ex-wife and her disregard for her son, she was surprised so many mementos had been permitted to remain.

“I’ll have Mrs. Farnes remove those,” Blake said, noticing what had captured her interest. “Damn,” he muttered. “There’s probably more in the master bedroom.” Blake crossed the room with his long, hungry stride and plucked Drew from her arms, tossing the infant into the air. The boy’s delighted cries drowned out the thump of Bella’s heart as she watched father and son. “And while we’re at it, we’ll have Mrs. Farnes ship the pictures to Victoria in New York.”

Tearing her gaze from Blake’s relaxed face, Bella strode into the living room and took stock of all the potential trouble the nine-month-old boy could get into if she took her eyes off him for a second. “The house could use some baby proofing.”

An unhappy wail followed her words. Bella glanced over her shoulder at the truculent child. Drew wanted to be put down. The forty-five-minute helicopter ride from the East Thirty-Fourth Street heliport hadn’t been particularly restful for Bella, but Drew had taken full advantage of the rocking motion and napped. This meant he was full of energy and ready to go.

“Tell Mrs. Farnes what you need done,” Blake said, giving in to Drew’s demands to be put down.

The baby crawled to the couch and stood up. He required very little help to stay standing. She’d already observed how confidently he walked as long as he had something to hold on to. In no time at all, he’d be walking on his own. Then running. Bella sighed.

“Hello?” a female voice called from the entry. “Anybody home?”

While Blake headed to the front door to greet his stepsister, Drew began working his way along the couch. Bella wished Blake had mentioned that Jeanne would be staying with them this weekend. She would have appreciated the opportunity to prepare herself for the other woman’s chilly dislike.

Bella raced forward and caught Drew’s hand before it snagged a heavy crystal bowl on the end table.

“Where’s my darling nephew?” Jeanne called, sweeping into the living room with great style. She wore a melon-hued linen dress that drew attention to her perfect complexion and played up the reddish highlights in her dark brown hair. A diamond tennis bracelet glittered at her wrist as she descended on her nephew, hands outstretched.

Bella backed away from Drew as his aunt reached him. Jeanne had a knack for making Bella feel like an employee—necessary when the socialite needed something, forgotten otherwise.

“You are going to love it in the Hamptons,” she crooned to Drew, snuggling him close despite his incoherent protests. “We are going to have so much fun this summer.”

Dismayed to hear that Jeanne would be around so much, Bella glanced in Blake’s direction and discovered he was directing the man who’d picked them up at the East Hampton airport on where to put their luggage. The caretaker—Blake had introduced him as Woody—had already brought in several bags belonging to Drew and Blake and had fetched her single suitcase. Alarm stirred as he headed upstairs with it.

“Wait,” Bella called after him. “That’s mine. It belongs in the pool house.”

Blake stopped her. “You’ll be staying in the house. I thought it best if you slept across the hall from Drew.”

She’d expected Blake would assign her the same accommodations as last summer and was distressed by the idea that she would be sleeping a short distance from him. “Why?” she blurted out.

“He’s been waking up in the middle of the night lately. I’ve been having a hard time getting him back to sleep. I thought you’d have better luck.”

“Oh, sure,” she said, failing to keep the dismay out of her voice.

“Problem?”

She couldn’t help but feel as if the walls were closing in on her. This was how it began with her family, too. She’d agree to a simple request to adjust a hemline and the next thing she knew she was sewing a brand-new dress.

“You did mention that I could have my evenings off.”

“Is it your plan to be out all night?” Blake glowered at her.

She steeled herself against a sudden thrill, reminding herself that his concern about her going out—and staying out—was because he expected her to be at Drew’s beck and call. Not because he wanted her company himself.

“Of course not.” She’d much rather spend her nights with Blake and Drew, but he couldn’t know that. He’d start wondering why. “It’s just that I was hoping to have a little fun this summer and I really enjoyed the pool house.” She’d appreciated the privacy. If not the solitude.

“And I’d like you to be close by.”

“Blake, let the girl stay in the pool house if that’s what she wants,” Jeanne broke in, her exasperation plain. “I really don’t see why she’s here at all. I’m perfectly capable of watching Drew this summer.”

Jeanne’s negative attitude toward her had never been this overt and Bella wondered what she’d done to turn the woman against her.

Blake’s stepsister gave up the battle with the squirmy Drew and set him down on the foyer’s cool marble. Immediately he began crawling toward the open door. Bella chased after him, deciding it would be easier to wear out the adventurous infant than to try to contain him. Glad to escape the stare-down between siblings, Bella scooped up Drew and marched him outside.

“You will be far too busy lunching with friends and shopping to be a full-time babysitter,” Blake countered, his voice calm but steely. “Bella will give him her full attention.”

To keep him out of trouble, she’d have to. Bella steered Drew away from roses that flanked the sidewalk and aimed for the large expanse of smooth, green lawn. As soon as she’d gauged Drew was a safe distance from the flowerbeds that enclosed the mansion in graceful, bright waves, she plopped onto the grass with a heavy sigh and began tickling Drew’s round belly.

His hearty giggles made her smile. She lost herself in his darling grin and ran her fingers through his soft hair. Sighing, she snuggled him close and imprinted his scent in her memories. He endured it all with good humor and took his own turn investigating her nose and mouth with his chubby fingers.

The late-afternoon sunlight cast long shadows across the lawn and Bella knew she couldn’t hide out here with Drew much longer. The wind coming off the ocean was growing cooler by the minute. She was psyching herself up to return to the house when she heard the slam of a car door and an engine starting.

Glancing over her shoulder, she spied Jeanne’s silver Lexus heading away from the house and Blake striding across the lawn toward them. Her pulse jerked erratically at his somber expression and she wondered if he was going to send her back to the city.

“Where’s Jeanne going?” she asked, startled when he sat beside her.

Hoisting Drew onto his lap, Blake stared after his sister. “She’s heading home.”

“Back to New York?” It distressed Bella to think she’d come between the siblings.

“She and Peter have a rental just down the beach.”

“Then she’s not staying here?” She couldn’t stop relief from overwhelming her voice.

“No.” Blake’s eyebrow lifted. “I take it you’re glad.”

Bella plucked at the lawn. “Your sister doesn’t like me.”

“It’s not that she doesn’t like you,” he explained, weariness twisting his mouth into an unhappy line.

“You could have fooled me.”

“She doesn’t want us spending the summer together.” Blake was watching Drew crawl toward a butterfly that had flitted across his path and spoke almost absently.

“Why not?”

“She thinks you have feelings for me.”

Bella couldn’t have been more shocked. “What?” she sputtered, sounding anything but amused or incredulous. She sounded guilty. “That’s crazy.”

Blake’s gaze sharpened as it swung in her direction. “I don’t know. She was pretty convinced. It was something about the way you looked at me last year.”

Sucking in a breath, intending further protest, Bella was silenced by the heat in his eyes. The chilly afternoon suddenly seemed like a midsummer scorcher.

“She’s making that up.” Bella quivered. “I’ve never thought of you as anything more than a friend. You were married.”

“I’m not married anymore.” His fingers grazed her cheek and slipped beneath her hair.

Her nape tingled as he stroked her skin.

“Sure. But that doesn’t mean anything has changed.”

“Hasn’t it?”

Transfixed by the intent glowing in the blue-gray depths of his eyes, she forgot to breathe. The desire that had haunted her for months exploded in her midsection. Reason melted like spring snow on a sunny day.

She wanted him. Badly.

“Tell me you’ve never imagined me kissing you,” Blake demanded, cupping the back of her head and urging her forward. He frowned as the distance between them narrowed.

This could not be happening. If he came any closer, she was going to make a huge fool out of herself.

“I’ve never.”

His lips stopped a mere whisper from hers. “Say it again and make me believe it.”

“I’ve—”

He didn’t let her finish.

* * *

Blake meant the kiss to put an end to his craving for her. A quick taste and she’d be out of his system.

That’s the way it was supposed to work. He didn’t expect her soft moan to scatter all rational thought. Or the way her lips parted beneath his to rob him of control. He’d intended to keep the upper hand, but when her fingers tunneled into his hair and tightened almost painfully, he lost the willpower to set her free.

He rubbed his mouth back and forth against hers, felt her body soften. Almost from the first, she surrendered herself completely to the moment. To him. Despite her earlier protests, she offered herself without reservation.

Deepening the pressure on her mouth, he let his tongue slip past her even, white teeth. He thrust into the warm wetness of her mouth, licking at all the sweetness awaiting him. Her ardent reception evoked another moan. This one his.

In a flash he knew this was no experiment. It wasn’t going to end easily with him lifting his lips from hers. Stopping the kiss was going to take effort. Way more than it should.

Heat poured through him. He was consumed by desire. Intense. Inappropriate toward the woman who was his son’s nanny.

Right and wrong. Simple and complicated.

This had been a mistake. But one he wasn’t going to quit making until it was certain to haunt him for the rest of the summer. Maybe beyond.

Drew’s sharp cry sliced through the air, severing their kiss. Bella jerked away and scrambled to her feet faster than Drew could draw breath for a second shriek. Cursing the way his heart was pounding, Blake followed her across the lawn to where his son sat on the grass, his features crumpled in torment.

Recognizing that it wasn’t a regular old temper tantrum, Bella had fallen to her knees beside Drew. Her hands skimmed over his face and arms, searching for the damage. Blake joined them just as she found the red spot on the back of his hand.

“I think he was stung by something.” She scooped the child into her arms and held him close. “You poor baby.”

“Are you sure he was stung?”

Bella shot him a stern look. “I grew up on a farm. I know what a sting looks like.” She cupped Drew’s cheek and surveyed him. “Is there any history of allergic reactions to bees or wasps in your family?”

“No.” He helped her stand, hating the feeling of helplessness that always came over him when Drew cried. “Do you know what to look for if he has a reaction?”

“Difficulty breathing. Severe swelling.”

“Someone in your family is allergic?” he quizzed, concern growing as he imagined Drew being afflicted by those symptoms.

She shook her head. “No, but I had a student who carried an EpiPen in case she got stung, which of course she did. About a week into my first year as a teacher. Luckily our classroom was close to the playground so we could get the epinephrine into her before her throat swelled shut.”

As they reached the house, they met up with Mrs. Farnes at the front door. She looked from Drew to Bella.

“What’s happened?”

“He’s been stung,” Bella answered, her pace slowing as she entered the house.

“Wasp or bee?” Mrs. Farnes quizzed, catching Drew’s flailing hand so she could peer at the red spot. “Looks like it’s swelling some.”

“I didn’t see a stinger, so I’m assuming it was a wasp.” Bella shifted Drew higher on her hip. “Do you think you could pour some vinegar in a bowl?”

“Of course.” Mrs. Farnes raced back to the kitchen.

Bella followed, wiping tears from Drew’s cheeks as she went.

“Vinegar?” Blake demanded, suspicious.

“It’s what we always used on the farm. The acid neutralizes the venom.”

“What about a doctor?”

She kissed Drew on the temple and snuggled him close. “He’s not showing any signs of a reaction. I think he’ll be just fine once his hand stops hurting.”

As difficult as it was to entrust his son’s welfare to another person, Blake knew that if he interfered, he would disrupt the attachment sparking between Bella and Drew. And this was exactly the sort of situation where Bella shone. Taking care of someone who needed her was as natural as breathing for her. She just needed to stop denying who she was.

Drew’s sobs had devolved into ragged inhalations that shook his whole body, followed by a keening cry that had Bella blinking back tears of her own. Blake watched them. Was this the moment Bella transformed into a concerned parent, or was she merely distraught because Drew was so upset?

“All set,” Mrs. Farnes said, gesturing to the kitchen table where she’d set a bowl and some dishcloths. “I gave you some ice as well to numb the area. Is that all you need? I could make a baking soda paste.”

“My mother never had much luck with baking soda.” Bella sat down with Drew in her lap. She dipped a towel in the water and applied it to the back of his hand.

While Drew screamed with renewed enthusiasm, Blake marveled at the range of home remedies these two women knew. He hunkered down beside his son and touched Drew’s cheek.

“He seems hot,” Blake said.

“I’m not surprised,” Mrs. Farnes murmured, handing Drew a cookie. “He’s worked himself into quite a lather. This should help.”

Hiccupping, Drew stuffed the cookie into his mouth. He smacked noisily, distracted from the pain in his hand. Bella and Mrs. Farnes exchanged a knowing glance. As the level of estrogen in the room peaked, Blake was assailed by a renewed sense of urgency. Drew needed a mother who would tear up when he was hurt and fiercely protect him from the world’s dangers. She would teach him respect for women and how to be both strong and gentle at the same time.

He would not grow up with a hole in his heart and a head full of questions about why his mother had abandoned him.

“I think it’s working,” Bella said, her gaze shifting to Blake. “Will you hold him for me while I fix a bottle?” She dipped the cloth in the vinegar once more and handed it to Blake before she shifted Drew to him. Her fingers slipped over Blake’s hand as he sat down, the tender contact a warm reminder of their earlier kiss. “He’s going to be all right,” she told him softly, her voice encouraging.

Blake tracked her progress across the kitchen, his skin tingling in the aftermath of her light touch. She’d managed his worries over Drew’s wasp sting with the same calm reassurance she’d used with his son. As much as she denied that she was cut out for motherhood, she was a natural. More than a natural. She was innately driven to make those around her happy.

The large kitchen became more homey as the smell of cooking onions filled the air, the sound of them sizzling in the pan blending harmoniously with the hum of female voices as Mrs. Farnes began dinner preparations.

Lifting the damp cloth off Drew’s wasp sting, Blake noticed the red mark on his son’s hand had been reduced to a dot the diameter of a pencil. The progress pleased him.

“It looks a lot better,” Bella commented, peering over Blake’s shoulder.

Her dark brown hair fell forward, brushing his cheek. He had a quick second to fill his lungs with the scent of vanilla before she swept the wayward strands behind her ear. While she peered at Drew, Blake studied her profile. Her nose had a slight bump from being broken when she was ten while rescuing her three-year-old brother from a charging billy goat owned by her grandmother.

It was the only imperfection in an otherwise lovely face. Softly rounded cheekbones, a well-shaped mouth and pale blue eyes that tilted up at the corners gave her a fresh, girl-next-door look so unlike his ex-wife’s sleek sophistication. Combine that with a smile that went from uncertain to delighted in the blink of an eye, and Blake had a hard time keeping his mind focused on his plans and off the delectable kiss they’d just shared.

Already he’d done something he’d intended to avoid. But what Jeanne had said to him about Bella finding him attractive had been gnawing at him. He’d gone over every memory he had of Bella and found no sign that she’d been anything but friendly toward him. Today he’d thrown Jeanne’s words in Bella’s face, expecting her to hotly deny it. Instead, her protest had lacked conviction. He’d expected her to slap his hand away. To get angry.

His groin stirred at the memory of her impassioned moan. She’d sounded both confounded and thrilled. Beneath his kiss she’d come alive. Her ardent surrender had carried both of them into a place where they alone existed. Blake frowned. How far would things have gone if Drew hadn’t brought them back?

“Here’s his bottle.”

While he’d been lost in thought, Bella had finished preparing Drew’s bottle. She held it out to Blake, but he shook his head.

“Why don’t you feed him,” he said. “I have to call Jeanne and tell her I’m not going to make dinner.”

“You shouldn’t cancel on your sister,” Bella said, carrying baby and bottle out of the kitchen. “Drew is fine. After he finishes this, we’re going to read a little and if he isn’t sleepy, I’ll give him some dinner, a bath and then straight to bed.”

Her words had set the scene for the sort of evening he’d been hoping to enjoy, just the three of them.

“You were pretty determined that your nights would be free, remember?” Blake had followed her into the living room. “Besides, I don’t feel right about leaving Drew after what happened.”

She settled onto the pale blue couch and started feeding Drew before she answered. “Really, Blake, it’s only a wasp sting. He’s perfectly fine and there’s no need for you to stay.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” He sat beside her, immediately realizing he was too close when his thigh bumped against hers. The contact delighted him. So did the way she bit down on her lower lip.