The Billionaire's Borrowed Baby. Janice Maynard
kissed her, but her lashes lifted and her cloudy gaze cleared. Astonishment flashed across her expressive features, followed by chagrin and what appeared to be resignation.
After a long, silent pause, she wrinkled her nose and sighed. “I need you to marry me.”
Luc dropped his hands from her shoulders with unflattering haste. Though his expression remained guarded, for a split second some strong emotion flashed in his eyes and then disappeared as quickly as it had come. Most men would be shocked by Hattie’s proposal.
Most men weren’t Luc Cavallo.
He lifted a shoulder clad in an expensive suit. The Cavallo textile empire, started by their grandfather in Italy and now headquartered in Atlanta, had made Luc and his brother wealthy men. She had no doubt that the soft, finely woven wool fabric was the product of a family mill. His mouth twisted, faint disdain in his expression. “Is this a joke? Should I look for hidden cameras?”
She felt her face go even hotter. Confronting her past was more difficult than she had expected, and without the baby to run interference, Hattie felt uncomfortably vulnerable. “It’s not a joke. I’m dead serious. I need you to marry me to keep Deedee safe.”
He scowled. “Good Lord, Hattie. Is the father threatening you? Has he hurt you? Tell me.”
His intensity made her shiver. If she really had an abusive husband, there was no doubt in her mind that Luc Cavallo would hunt him down and destroy him. She was making a hash of this explanation. “It’s complicated,” she said helplessly. “But no, nothing like that.”
He ran two hands through his hair, mussing the dark, glossy strands. The reminder function on his BlackBerry beeped just then, and Luc glanced down at it with a harried expression. “I have an appointment,” he said, his voice betraying frustration. “Obviously we’re not going to resolve this in fifteen minutes. Can you get a sitter for tonight?”
“I’d rather not. Deedee has been through a lot of trauma recently. She clings to me. I don’t want to change her routine any more than necessary.” And the thought of being alone with Luc Cavallo scared Hattie. This brief meeting had revealed an unpalatable truth. The Hattie who had been madly in love with Luc was still lurking somewhere inside a heart that clung to silly dreams from the past.
He straightened his tie and strode to the other side of his desk. “Then I’ll send a car for you.” As she opened her mouth to protest, he added, “With an infant seat. We’ll have dinner at my home and my housekeeper can play with the child while we talk.”
There was nothing ominous in his words, but Hattie felt her throat constrict. Was she really going to try to convince Luc to marry her? Who was she kidding? He had no reason at all to humor her. Other than perhaps sheer curiosity. Why hadn’t he shown her the door immediately? Why was he allowing her to play out this odd reunion?
She should be glad, relieved, down on her knees thanking the good lord that Luc wasn’t already married.
But at the moment, her exact emotions were far more complicated and far less sensible.
She was still fascinated by this man who had once promised her the moon.
Two
What did one wear to a marriage proposal? While the baby was napping, Hattie rummaged through the tiny closet in her matching tiny apartment, knowing that she was not going to find a dress to wow Luc Cavallo. The only garment remotely suitable was a black, polished cotton sheath that she had worn to each of her parent’s funerals. Perhaps with some accessories it would do the trick.
In a jewelry box she’d had since she was a girl, her hand hovered over the one piece inside that wasn’t an inexpensive bauble. The delicate platinum chain was still as bright as the day Luc had given it to her. She picked it up and fastened it around her neck, adjusting the single pearl flanked by small diamonds.
Though there had been many days when the wolf was at the door, she had not been able to bring herself to sell this one lovely reminder of what might have been. She stroked the pearl, imagining that it was warm beneath her fingers….
They had skipped their afternoon classes at Emory and escaped to Piedmont Park with a blanket and a picnic basket. She was a scholarship student … his family had endowed the Fine Arts Center.
As they sprawled in the hot spring sunshine, feeling alive and free and deliciously truant, Luc leaned over her on one elbow, kissing her with teasing brushes of his lips that made her restless for more. He grinned down at her, his eyes alight with happiness. “I have an anniversary present for you.”
“Anniversary?” They’d been dating for a while, but she hadn’t kept track.
He caressed her cheek. “I met you six months ago today. You were buying a miniature pumpkin at Stanger’s Market. I offered to carve it for you. You laughed. And that’s when I knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That you were the one.”
Her smile faded. “College guys are supposed to be counting notches on their bedposts, not spouting romantic nonsense.”
A shadow dimmed the good humor in his gaze. “I come from a long line of Italians. Romance is in our blood.” His whimsical shrug made her regret tarnishing the moment. Lord knew she wanted it to be true, but her mother had drummed into her head that men only wanted one thing. And Hattie had given that up without a qualm.
Being Luc Cavallo’s lover was the best thing that had ever happened to her. He was her first, and she loved him so much it hurt. But she was careful to protect herself. She had a degree to finish, grades to keep up. A woman had to stand on her own two feet. Depending on a man led to heartbreak.
Luc reached into the pocket of his jeans and withdrew a small turquoise box. He handed it to her without speaking.
If she had been able to think of a polite refusal, she would have handed it back unopened. But he looked at her with such naked anticipation that she swallowed her misgivings and removed the lid. Nestled inside the leather box was a necklace, an exquisite, expensive necklace.
Hattie knew about Tiffany’s, of course. In fact, back in the fall she’d been in the store at Phipps Plaza with one of her girlfriends who was in search of a wedding gift. But even on that day, Hattie had felt the sting of being out of place. She couldn’t afford a key chain in those swanky glass cases, much less anything else.
And now this.
Luc ignored her silence. He took the necklace from the box and fastened it around her neck. She was wearing a pink tank top, and the pearl nestled in her modest cleavage. He kissed her forehead. “It suits you.”
But it didn’t. She was not that woman he wanted her to be. Luc would take his place one day with the glitterati. And Hattie, with or without the necklace, would wish him well. But she wasn’t “the one” … and she never would be.
A car backfired out on the street, the loud sound dragging Hattie back to the present. With a mutinous scowl at her own reflection, she closed the jewelry box with a defiant click. Luc probably didn’t even remember the silly necklace. He’d no doubt bought pricey bling for a dozen women in the intervening years.
The afternoon dragged by, the baby fussy with teething … Hattie nervous and uncertain. It was almost a relief when a nicely dressed chauffeur knocked at the door promptly at six-thirty.
The pleasant older man took Hattie’s purse and the diaper bag while she tucked Deedee into the top-of-the-line car seat. It was brand-new and not smeared with crusty Cheerios and spit-up. The baby was charmed by the novelty of having Hattie sit across from her. A game of peekaboo helped distract them both as the car wound its way from the slightly rundown neighborhood where Hattie lived to an upscale part of town.