Baby for the Greek Billionaire: The Baby Project / Second Chance Baby / Baby on the Ranch. SUSAN MEIER
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glanced over at Whitney, who winced. “Wow. It’s been so long since I was around a baby that I forgot that some kids start eating cereal around six months or so.”
Cook proudly said, “He’s been eating cereal for a few weeks now.”
“Then get us the cereal.” She faced Darius. “Sorry about that.”
“Hey, I didn’t even know babies ate cereal.”
Cook walked in with a small bowl and a tiny baby spoon. As if recognizing his bowl, the baby slapped his hands on the tray. Cook handed the bowl and spoon to Darius who set them on the table then edged his seat closer to the high chair.
He didn’t even consider opting out of learning how to feed Gino. He wanted to know everything. “So you’re ready for this, huh?”
Gino screeched with joy.
Whitney said, “Just put a little bit of cereal on the spoon and very easily guide it to his mouth.”
Darius did as instructed. Gino greedily took the bit of cereal and smacked his lips. The second bite was a little messier, but Darius just used common sense about getting the spoon and the cereal into Gino’s mouth. After a few spoonfuls, when Gino tried to blow bubbles with it instead of eating it, Darius knew he wasn’t hungry anymore.
“If you’re playing in it rather than eating, I’m guessing you’re done.”
As he set the spoon down, Mrs. Tucker walked in. “Cook didn’t want to start your breakfast until you were free to eat it. So, I thought I’d take Gino upstairs and play with him a bit. I’ll walk through the kitchen to let Cook know she can make your breakfast now.”
Darius rose and helped her get the baby out of the high chair. “Sounds good.”
When she left, the little room fell silent.
Finally, Whitney said, “It’s beautiful here.”
Darius looked out at the steel-gray ocean, the deceptively blue sky. Though the day seemed calm, he knew winds off the sea would make it freezing cold out there. “Yes. I’d forgotten.”
“Did you come here often?”
“After I turned eighteen I did.”
“Why do I get the feeling you were forced?”
Her perceptiveness made him wince. “Because I was. My father gave me access to a five-million-dollar trust fund when I turned eighteen. He told me it was mine but he wanted me to go to college and work for Andreas Holdings. He hadn’t as much as visited after he left my mom, then suddenly he was in my life, ordering me around. Our time here wasn’t always pleasant.”
She toyed with a salt shaker. “I liked your dad.”
He laughed as Cook brought in his pancakes and Whitney’s bagel. When she was gone, he reached for the maple syrup and said, “Most people who didn’t have my dad for a lover or a parent did like him.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s probably true.”
Surprised by her answer, he set the maple syrup on the table. “I thought for sure you’d sing his praises.”
She snorted a laugh. “I know what it’s like to deal with a person who has a public personality and a private one. I had a husband everybody loved.”
His brows rose. So she’d been married? He hadn’t even considered the possibility since she’d kept the last name Ross. But having been married, maybe even having been hurt by a divorce, might explain why she was so nervous around him.
Better than that, though, she’d opened the door for him to question her about her past. He’d been so focused on the baby that he hadn’t really given much thought to the woman who shared custody beyond asking why Missy had chosen her.
Pretending great interest in his coffee, he said, “Everybody loved your husband but you?”
“Oh, I loved him. He loved himself too.” She reached for the cream. “So what are your plans for the day?”
He recognized a change of subject when he heard it and realized that though she’d opened the door to talk about her past, she hadn’t done it deliberately. He was curious about her, but he also knew asking about a husband she no longer had was a tad intrusive. It had no bearing on their situation and was none of his business. And if he wanted to convince her he was harmless, it would be wise to follow her lead and let the subject change.
“Actually, I want to spend as much time with the baby as I can.”
She set her bagel on her plate and studied him. Her narrowed eyes were both suspicious and skeptical. “So, you weren’t kidding. You really want to be a good dad?”
“I want to be a great dad.” The words rolled through him. Now that he’d spent time with Gino, they meant so much more than they had even the day before. Now, he knew the cost. He was taking responsibility for another person.
It didn’t confuse him as it had the night before or overwhelm him the way it had in the nursery that morning, but he was smart enough that it still sort of scared him. Especially since he’d vowed that he wouldn’t be a part-time, no-show dad the way his father had been. Deep down inside, he had to admit he wasn’t entirely sure he could do that. The only role model he’d had was a poor one.
Still, that wasn’t something he could confide to Whitney. Technically, she was still a stranger. So, taking his cue from her when the conversation turned to something she hadn’t wanted to tell him, he also changed the subject.
“What are your plans for the day?”
“I’m working on a class action case with my dad. Depositions are in. He’s read them. I haven’t.” She grimaced. “That’s never happened before.”
Knowing he could get Mrs. Tucker to help him with Gino that morning and eager to make Montauk a comfortable home to Whitney, he turned his attention to his pancakes. “There are three offices in this house. You can have your choice. And you can spend the whole day if you need it. Mrs. Tucker and I will take care of Gino.”
Relief saturated her voice. “Thanks.”
She worked all day, stopping only to have lunch around two, long after Darius and Gino had eaten so she didn’t have to interact with either one of them. But she couldn’t get out of dinner. She arrived in the formal dining room at seven, dressed as she had been all day in jeans and a bulky sweater.
Darius, who was already seated at the head of the table, rose.
He still wore the fisherman-knit sweater and jeans he’d put on in the morning. Holding out the chair at the place beside his, he explained, “I assumed you’d be too busy to change.”
She sat. “Yes. Thank you.”
“My father insisted everything be formal. I’m more accommodating.” He shook out his napkin. “I hope you like Italian.”
“Actually, I love most foods.” She risked a glance at him and fought a quiver of attraction. That morning she’d noticed that he looked very good in the casual clothes, but tonight he hadn’t shaved. The scruffy stubble on his chin and cheeks made him sexy in a disreputable, sinful way. The man was simply too handsome for his own good and she was vulnerable. She hadn’t interacted with a man like this—single and attractive—since she’d met her husband. She was out of practice, attracted and needy. A deadly combination when three feet away from a gorgeous man. Especially when she didn’t want to get involved with another man.
But she couldn’t be a total grouch or, worse, an unappreciative guest. “You don’t have to worry when it comes to me and food. I’d eat constantly if I didn’t have work to keep me busy.”
He laughed. Pinpricks of delight raced up her spine. It had been so long since she’d made a man laugh in simple conversation that she’d forgotten the joy of it.
“I