One Kiss in... Paris. Robyn Grady

One Kiss in... Paris - Robyn Grady


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thought for a moment. “Aren’t crepes French?”

      “Mateo spent his first years there.” As soon as the words were out, Natalie’s expression dropped. “That probably wasn’t my place to say.”

      While Mateo waved it off, Bailey puzzled over what the drama with France could be. He must have seen her curiosity.

      “I lived in an orphanage the first six years of my life.”

      All the air left Bailey’s lungs as images of dank, dark corridors and rickety cots with children who lacked love’s warm touch swam up in her mind. She couldn’t imagine it, particularly not for Mateo Celeca. Her lips moved a few times before she got out a single, “Oh.”

      “It wasn’t so bad,” Mateo said, obviously reading her expression. “The people who ran it were kind. We had what we needed.”

      “Mateo sponsors the orphanage now,” Alex chipped in as, wine menu in hand, he beckoned a waiter.

      Bailey sat back. Of course. Yesterday Mateo had mentioned he was a benefactor. She hadn’t thought beyond the notion that any donations would be the act of someone who had the means to make a difference to others’ lives. She hadn’t stopped to think his work in France might be more personal. That he was paying homage to a darker past and wanted to help those who were in the same underprivileged position he’d once been.

      “It’s difficult for them to find funds,” Mateo was saying, pouring more water. “A small bit goes a long way.”

      “You’re too modest,” Alex said.

      Natalie added, “Wouldn’t surprise me if one day you come back with someone who needs a good home.”

      “I’m hardly in a position.”

      Mateo’s reply sounded unaffected. But Bailey detected a certain faraway gleam in his eye. Would Mateo consider adopting if he were in the position? If he were married?

      She tried to focus on Natalie’s words … something about looking forward to dessert. But, as much as she tried, Bailey couldn’t shake the vision of Mateo playing with a child of his own with a faceless Mrs. Celeca smiling and gazing on. Not her, of course. She wasn’t after a husband—or certainly not this soon after her recent hairy experience. One day she wanted to be part of a loving couple—like Natalie and Alex—but right now she was more than happy to be free.

      Did Mateo feel the same way? Natalie wondered, stealing a glance at the doctor from beneath her lashes. Or could Mama’s perennial bachelor be on the lookout for a suitable wife slash mother for an adopted child?

      Finishing dessert, a moist, scrumptious red velvet cake, Bailey gave a soft cry when some chocolate sauce slipped from her spoon and caught the bodice of her dress. She slid a fingertip over the spot to scoop up the drop, which only smeared the sauce. Bailey didn’t wear these kinds of labels, but she knew something about the price tags. Often they cost more than her airfare home.

      With dread filling her stomach, Bailey turned to Natalie. “I’ll pay to have it dry-cleaned.”

      But Natalie wasn’t troubled.

      “Keep the dress, if you want. It’s too snug on me after the baby anyway. In fact, there’s a heap of things you could take off my hands, if you’d like.”

      Eyes down, Bailey dabbed the spot with her napkin. She was grateful for the offer but also embarrassed. Over dinner, they’d discussed her travels and lightly touched on the Emilio affair. Mention had been made of Mateo’s suggestion she stay a couple of days as well as Natalie’s proposal of work. Now the offer of a designer wardrobe.

      She was beginning to feel as if she constantly had her hand out.

      Bailey set aside the napkin. “That’s very kind, Natalie. But you don’t need to do that.”

      “Chances are I won’t wear them again. Some mothers are eager to get back their pre-baby bodies but I quite like the fuller me.”

      “Hear, hear,” her husband cooed close to her ear. “Now if you’ve finished dessert, what say we dance? Just you and me.”

      Natalie laughed. “Oh, you love when the three of us dance together in the living room.”

      “Of course.” Alex kissed her hand and found his feet. “But this moment I’m happy to have only you in my arms.”

      As they headed for the dance floor, Bailey sighed.

      “You’re right. They’re a magic couple. Have they been together long? The way they look at each other, anyone would guess they’d fallen in love yesterday.”

      “They’ve been together a couple of years.”

      “I thought they might have been school sweethearts,” she said, watching them slow dance to the soft strains of a love song drifting through the room while misty beams played over their heads.

      “Natalie grew up in far different circumstances than she enjoys now. Very humble beginnings.”

      Bailey was taken aback. “She looks as if she might’ve been born into royalty.”

      “Tonight, so do you.”

      Bailey’s breath caught high in her chest. Was he merely being polite or was the compliment meant to have the reaction it did? Suddenly she didn’t know where to look. What to say. But her mother had said to always take a compliment graciously. So, gathering herself, she lifted her eyes to his and smiled. “Thank you.”

      Her heart was thumping too loudly to maintain that eye contact, however, so she found Alex and Natalie on the dance floor. Natalie was laughing at something her husband had said while Alex gazed down at his wife adoringly. They radiated wedded bliss.

      “It was a good day,” Mateo said.

      “Which day?”

      “The day I helped bring their son into the world.”

      Elbow on the table, Bailey rested her chin in the cup of her hand. “I bet you had everything prepared and everyone on their toes.”

      “Quite the opposite. When she went into labor, we were at Alex’s beachside holiday house. It happened quickly.” He peered over toward the couple. Natalie’s cheek was resting on Alex’s shoulder now. “She’d miscarried years before. Alex was concerned for mother and child both.”

      “But nothing went wrong?”

      Mateo smiled across. “You saw Reece tonight.”

      Bailey relaxed. “Perfect.”

      “Alex had always longed for a son.”

      “I suppose most men do,” she said, wondering if she’d get a reaction.

      “Most men … yes.” Then, as if to put an end to that conversation, he stood and held out his hand. “Would you care to dance?”

      Bailey’s throat closed. Perhaps she should have seen that coming but she was at a loss for words. Mateo looked so tall and heart-stoppingly handsome, gazing down at her with those dark, penetrating eyes. Eyes that constantly intrigued her. She wanted to accept his offer. Wanted the opportunity to know the answer to her earlier question—how it would feel to have his arms surround her. Here, in this largely neutral, populated setting, she could find out.

      She placed her hand in his. That telling warmth rose again, tingling over her flesh, heating her cheeks and her neck. His eyes seemed to smile into hers as she found her feet and together they moved to the dance floor, occupied by other couples, some absorbed more in the song than their partner, others locked in each other’s arms and ardent gazes.

      Bailey couldn’t stop her heart from hammering as Mateo turned and rested a hot palm low on her back while bringing their still-clasped hands to his lapel. Concentrating to level her breathing, she slid and rested her left hand over the broad slope of his shoulder at the same time the tune segued into an


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