Men of Power. Кэрол Мортимер
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uncle would try to get custody? He had the money and the clout, but Julie couldn’t bear the thought of it.
Her fingers curled around the bars of the crib. “Let’s hope your grandmother’s wrong. You want to stay here with me, don’t you, sweetheart? I love you so much.”
He was still asleep on his back, his arms outstretched at either side of his head, his hands closed into semifists. While she stood there fighting more tears, her father came into the room. He handed her the sack from the pharmacy.
She quickly changed Nicky’s diaper, applying the cream to his little backside that was bright red.
“You’re going to make a wonderful mother someday,” he murmured.
“Thanks, Dad.” When her mother went back to the hotel, Julie would tell her father her plans. He’d be on her side.
She wrapped a fussing Nicky in a receiving blanket and picked him up, giving him a kiss on both cheeks. As she started out of the room, her father called her back.
“There’s something I need to tell you before we go downstairs. It’s going to kill your mother.”
Alarm caused the hairs to prickle on the back of her neck. “D-did you hear from Pietra’s uncle?”
“No. He’s too ill to come, but her brother, Massimo, has arrived. He checked in at MacArthur Place. I just got off the phone with him from the mortuary. He was able to give me more information about Pietra to put in the obituary.
“Honey—” He cleared his throat. “Did you know Shawn and Pietra made out a will?”
She blinked. “No, but most couples have one.”
“It’s natural of course, but apparently they appointed him the baby’s guardian should anything to happen to them.”
What?
Pain stabbed at her heart, causing her to gasp. She stared at her father. “I don’t understand—he’s a bachelor who lives and works in a primitive area of the world. He’s never even seen Nicky!” She couldn’t understand why he’d never even been to see the baby.
Her dad’s features looked gaunt. “Nevertheless that was their wish. He came for a quick visit before Nicky was born. They talked it over then.”
Few things in life had hurt Julie more than this.
“He gave me the name of Shawn’s attorney. I called him on the way home from the pharmacy. Your mother and I were named beneficiaries of Shawn’s estate and insurance money, but Nicky goes with Pietra’s brother.
“The will’s iron clad. Your mother can plague Lem till the cows come home, but for all his legal expertise he won’t be able to break it.”
Devastated by the news, Julie nestled the baby closer. “W-what are her brother’s intentions?” she whispered. “Did he tell you anything?”
A heavy sigh escaped. “He’s coming over here later to see Nicky and talk to us. As far as the funeral goes, he doesn’t want to interfere with any plans we’ve made. But after it’s over, he’ll be taking the baby back with him.”
“Back where?” Her voice shook. “The man spends his life hacking his way through jungles in Central America!”
“I’m as stunned by this as you are.”
Her father looked wounded. Julie wasn’t the only one hurt by this news.
After learning about the accident, she hadn’t thought anything could bring her spirits lower. But this revelation had torn the heart right out of her body. She had to do something before it was too late.
Her mother’s remarks still rang in her ears.
I’m going to get custody of Nicky in case Pietra’s uncle gets any funny ideas about wanting to claim his niece’s male child now that Shawn isn’t alive. You know how possessive Italian men are.
“Dad—don’t tell mother about the will yet. She wants to feed Nicky. While she does that, I need to run to the store for a minute.” A white lie could be forgiven. “When I get back, we’ll talk to her together.”
“That’s a good idea. I need some time to collect my thoughts first. Come to your grandpa.” He reached for the baby who refused to be comforted. “Let’s go warm a bottle, shall we?”
After finding her purse, Julie followed her father downstairs. Relieved to discover her mother was either in the kitchen or the bathroom, she slipped out the front door to the driveway.
At four in the afternoon the temperature had climbed into the nineties. Coupled with August’s moderate humidity, the interior of her car was hot to the touch. She started up the air-conditioning and headed for the luxury hotel near Sonoma Plaza.
En route she practiced what she was going to say to Pietra’s brother if she could find him. Nothing sounded right. By the time she’d reached her destination and had approached the front desk, she was a mass of nerves.
“I’m here to see Mr. Massimo Di Rocche. Would you ring his room, please?”
“Certainly. Your name?”
“Julie Marchant.”
After a full minute the clerk gave her the disappointing news that he hadn’t picked up. “Do you want to leave a message?”
“Yes. Ask him to call me on my cell phone the second he’s able.” She left her number before going into the bar for a soda. If she didn’t hear from him within twenty minutes, then she’d have to go back to the town house.
Not five minutes passed before her phone rang. It sent her into a panic. For Nicky’s sake, whatever she said to Pietra’s brother, she had to be careful. Diplomatic.
She clicked on. “H-hello?”
“Julie Marchant?”
The way he said her name sounded foreign, and for want of a better word, intimate. It sent a shockwave through her body.
“Yes. Thank you for calling me back.”
“I didn’t realize you’d phoned until I’d finished my shower.” After a silence, he said, “We share a loss no one else could possibly understand, do we not?”
The tangible sorrow in his deep voice echoed her own agony. It opened the floodgates. “Yes.” A sob escaped her throat. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t be. Since hearing the news, I’ve hardly been in control myself. Where are you exactly?”
Exactly? She swallowed hard. “In the bar of your hotel.”
“Come up to my suite where we can talk in private.” He gave her the number.
“Thank you. I’ll be there in a minute.”
She wiped the moisture off her face with a napkin. One last sip of cola for sustenance and she left the bar. The elevator let her off on his floor. Halfway down the hall she saw a man in a white polo shirt and tan khakis turn in her direction.
The clothes could have belonged to a thousand men, but the unconscious elegance of his stance, the way the material molded his broad shoulders and tall, lean body caused her mouth to go dry.
Even from the distance separating them, she could see he’d come from a scorching environment. His jet-black hair, combined with olive skin bronzed by the sun, took her breath.
Brows of the same black intensity framed his aquiline features. The proud nose and aggressive jaw sat well on such an unquestionably masculine face.
Her fascinated gaze fell helplessly to the lines of his wide, sensual mouth. Nicky’s mouth! The baby’s big size was no longer a mystery. He’d inherited his uncle’s build, too. Every boy should be so lucky.
“What conclusions have you drawn?”