Baby for the Greek Billionaire: The Baby Project / Second Chance Baby / Baby on the Ranch. SUSAN MEIER
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FIVE
DARIUS AND WHITNEY raced behind Joni, who led them up the back steps. When they reached the nursery, Darius pushed ahead, not caring about decorum, and ran into the room.
Gino lay in the crib, crying. Darius reached down and scooped the little boy into his arms. “Hey, little guy. What’s up?”
“I’ve already called the pediatrician,” Mrs. Tucker said, wringing her hands. “He said he’d be here as soon as he can.”
Gino snuggled against Darius and cried harder.
“I couldn’t get him to drink his evening bottle and now he won’t stop crying.” Mrs. Tucker’s voice was strained and anxious. “I’m not a nanny and my only child is over thirty. It’s been so long since I cared for a baby that I have no idea what’s wrong.”
Whitney peered at Gino over Darius’s shoulder. “Can I hold him?”
Darius caught her gaze and the instant he did, he regretted it. Thoughts of their kiss devoured his mind and desire arched between them. He couldn’t believe he’d broken the promise he’d made to himself not to kiss her, but he had. Part of him wasn’t sorry. They had chemistry that just wouldn’t quit and if they were in a position to pursue it they’d probably set his bedroom on fire. He couldn’t resist a taste.
But they weren’t in a position to pursue it, and there would be consequences. Especially for this little boy if he didn’t handle the situation correctly.
He swallowed and handed Gino to her. “Here.”
After laying the baby across her arm, she studied his face, pressed her hand to his forehead, looked into his mouth. “I think he’s getting a tooth.”
Furious that she could be so flippant, Darius pinned her with a hard stare. “I think we should let the pediatrician decide.”
“Oh, of course!” she said, handing the baby back to him. “I’m just saying that there’s no reason for us to panic while we wait for the doctor to arrive.”
Mrs. Tucker visibly relaxed. “I should have thought of that. But it’s just been so long since I’ve had kids.” She sank into the rocker. “If I may make a suggestion, sir, I think we should get a nanny here as soon as possible.” She sighed heavily, as if having trouble getting her breathing to regulate, and Darius realized just how worried poor Mrs. Tucker had been.
But his eyes narrowed in on Whitney, the woman he shared custody with, and he suddenly wondered how she knew so much about babies. She’d said she’d been married, but she hadn’t mentioned children. If she’d had them and her husband had gotten custody, there had to be a reason for that. If there was something god-awful in her past that made her husband a better candidate to have her children than she was, he wanted to know what it was.
“I’ll just go back to the kitchen, then,” Mrs. Tucker announced, rising from the rocker and heading for the door.
“Sure,” Darius said. “We’ll be fine.” Plus, he wanted some time alone with Whitney. Since the day they’d met at her dad’s office, he’d been so preoccupied with getting along with her that he’d let all the inconsistencies in her life slide. That ended here. That ended now.
Darius sat on the rocker. Gino snuggled against him, sniffling, but relaxing against his sweater as if seeking comfort. His heart warmed with emotion. He was falling in love with this kid. In only two days, the little boy was getting to him.
But that was all the more reason to make sure he knew Gino’s “other” guardian. His dad might have approved Whitney, but his dad hadn’t planned on dying. He might have simply decided to placate Missy and agreed to appoint Whitney as shared custodian. Given that she was the daughter of his friend and the friend of Gino’s mom, he might not have checked into her past the way he should have.
“So, are you going to tell me how you know so much about babies?”
She walked away from him toward the window, but didn’t answer his question.
“I can have you investigated, you know. Or maybe even guess. A woman who was married but lost custody of her children to her husband probably has a skeleton in her closet.”
She sucked in a breath, refusing to look at him. Darius squeezed his eyes shut. Damn it! If he hadn’t needed her help so much, he would have realized something was off with her before this. He wouldn’t have silenced his instincts, and he would have confronted her.
“You know what? Don’t tell me. Go back to your room and pack. Because I’m going to contest that damned will. I’m getting you away from my baby.”
“Don’t.” She turned, her eyes filled with tortured pain. He could easily guess why.
“Why not? Don’t want a courtroom full of people to hear why you shouldn’t be around a child? Why you don’t have your own?”
She swallowed. “It’s not what you think.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
Whitney’s limbs began to shiver, then her entire body began to shake. She had absolutely no doubt in her mind that he intended to check in to her past. When he did, he’d discover she’d had a child who had died. She’d wanted to tell him, but she’d wanted it to be on her terms, so she didn’t look incompetent or grief-stricken. But it appeared this was the time.
She opened her mouth, debating what she would say, how she would say it, but the only thing that came out was, “I had a daughter.”
Darius said nothing, only snuggled his baby brother closer as if protecting him from her, and her heart shattered. “I would never do anything to hurt Gino.”
“Really?”
“My husband hurt my daughter.” Her shaking intensified. Tears filled her eyes. “My husband killed my daughter.”
Darius stopped rocking.
“He intended to kill himself.” Her tears spilled over her lower lids, trailed down her cheeks. Memories of that day and all the days after it when she’d wondered, berated herself, lived in an ocean of guilt, filled her brain, stopped her tongue, clogged her throat with tears.
She swallowed hard. Once. Twice. Three times before she could speak.
“No one knows if he’d forgotten he had the baby in the car seat when he realized he could simply sit in the running car in the garage to eventually kill himself.” Her lungs expanded to painful proportions. Sobs screamed to erupt from her chest, but she held on.
“His company had failed and though money wasn’t an issue, his pride suffered.” She turned, faced Darius, opened her hands in supplication. “It was his third company. He’d bragged that number three would be the charm. But it wasn’t. His father was angry with him for wasting his time. His brothers were making names for themselves on Wall Street and Burn did nothing but fail.” A sob escaped. “He was the family embarrassment.”
Darius swallowed, visibly shaken by what she had told him. “I’m sorry.”
Her sob turned to muffled weeping. “Everyone’s sorry.”
He rose from the rocker. “Maybe no one knows what else to say?”
She turned away as her crying took her. There was a place she went, a soft, comfortable place, where emotion took control of her body. Problems weren’t solved. Trouble didn’t disappear, but tension eased. Tears and sobs provided a welcome release not just for the pain, but also for her tight muscles and limbs. And she wanted to go there now. She wanted to go to her own room, sink onto the bed and let the crying soothe her.
“You weren’t at fault, you know.”
She spun to face him as sadness morphed into anger. “Really? I couldn’t have noticed my slightly depressed husband tumbling into full-fledged mental illness? There were no signs? You’re sure?”
“No,