Navy Blues. Debbie Macomber
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with the tired little boy who was still fretting.
Claire had never been rattled by Cody’s crying or fussiness before, but today it put her on edge. The utter silence from Logan Pierce warned her he wasn’t taking this well, and Claire worried that Cody’s potential to have a good relationship with his uncle was being damaged a little more every moment he acted less than the perfect child.
Thank God there was no nanny evident, so Logan couldn’t send her away too quickly unless he wanted to manage Cody on his own.
The rocking chair was a fine one, and it moved smoothly. Claire kept her attention on the boy or on the wall or on the windows as she rocked and patiently soothed the boy by rubbing his back. He wound down fairly quick and after a few minutes he was resting heavily against her.
What would happen once she put him in the baby bed? Would Logan show her the door? Since she had no legal rights over the boy, she and Cody were literally at the mercy of a man who didn’t appear to know the meaning of the word.
But surely, surely the man knew it was a bad idea to banish her and let the boy wake up later without a chance to even say goodbye.
Claire pressed a desperate kiss to the boy’s forehead and felt again the stark pain of impending loss. Her heart was about to be torn out, but it was the boy who would bleed. How would he ever understand? How would he ever get over the trauma of being suddenly abandoned by her?
Logan’s gravely drawl pushed at her.
“He’s asleep.”
The message was clear. The boy’s asleep, so put him in bed. Dread made her brain add the words, Don’t let the door hit your backside on the way out…
Claire almost couldn’t force herself to stop rocking and stand. The seconds fell heavily, one by one, impacting her heart like sharp spears as she carried the soundly sleeping two-year-old to the baby bed and carefully laid him on his side atop the plush little quilt.
Unable to step away too quickly, unable to keep from taking what might be a last opportunity, she leaned down and kissed the boy’s satiny cheek. The wetness that blurred everything was almost impossible to hold back but she did. And then she straightened and quietly eased the side of the bed up until it locked into place.
She didn’t look at the big man who loomed at arm’s length as she stepped away to gather up her purse and the cloth bag. The bag would stay with the boy, but she needed to show Logan some of the things she’d packed in it.
Cody’s vitamins and his baby book were included in the contents, along with a detailed printout of everything to do with his health, from vaccinations to doctor’s names and the schedule of future appointments for checkups.
She’d even photocopied the meticulous little diary she’d kept, but that, along with a baby book containing photos and keepsakes identical to the one she’d made for Logan Pierce, would stay with her forever.
Claire carried her things to the door, taking a few seconds to pause and glance back at the sleeping boy before she reached the hall. Because Logan had followed her and his big body blocked her view, she leaned to the side for a last glimpse.
Cody was lying asleep just as she’d left him, so there was no excuse to linger. She turned and went on out the door into the hall and started back the way she’d come on legs that felt heavy and weak. They reached the wide doorway to the living room before she stopped and turned back to Logan.
“Will you check on him regularly? It will upset him to wake up in a strange place.” She hesitated, wanting badly to add the words without me, but instead added, “Alone.”
Logan tilted his head back the tiniest bit as he stared down at her. Claire felt the cut of his dark gaze and quailed a little inside. The man was stern, and as unmoved as a column of stone. She’d never felt so powerless against anyone or anything in her life before this man had crossed her path. He was taking everything that mattered to her and she almost couldn’t bear the roaring frustration of being unable to prevent it or to even slow him down.
Claire had never hated anyone in her entire life, but she was close to hating this man. And if he harmed so much as a hair on that sweet boy or failed to love him wholeheartedly or unconditionally, or abused him, she’d somehow find out about it. And when she did, she’d also find the means, some way or somehow, to destroy Logan Pierce.
“Are you so eager to dump him off and get home?”
Logan’s low words shocked her and she almost pinched herself to make sure she was actually awake and that something wasn’t wrong with her hearing. Or was she just so desperate to be able to stay as long as he’d tolerate that she was having a delusion?
Claire couldn’t answer the question at first, but when she registered the challenge to her devotion, she felt a flash of anger.
“I’m not eager to leave him anywhere, Mr. Pierce.”
“Especially not with me,” he added as smoothly as if he’d read her mind. Claire’s gaze fell from contact with his.
“I’m…worried for him. You clearly expect me to just leave him here and not come back. Do you realize how traumatic that will be for him?”
Now she looked up at him, unable to keep the rest from boiling out.
“He’s not a week old or a month old. He’s a trusting little boy who’s lived his whole life with a woman he thinks of as his mother. Do you have any idea how devastating it will be for him if I’m forced to leave him here forever, with a man he’s never met before today?”
That was the moment Logan reached for her arm. She flinched and tried to draw back, but he caught her elbow and she nearly jumped out of her skin. The bolt of electricity that went through her from his steely fingers sent a heavy wave of weakness through her.
“We’ll finish this in private,” he growled, and before she could react, he was ushering her on past the living room then down the long hall that paralleled the front of the house. The power in his grip, though it was amazingly gentle, was a silent manifestation of male strength.
Whatever he’d just said about finishing this in private, Claire was terrified that he was about to throw her out of his house.
CHAPTER TWO
THEY’D almost reached the hall entrance into the front foyer before Claire found her tongue.
“Please, Mr. Pierce, I don’t care what you do to me, but please think of the boy.”
She felt his big body go taut, as if his muscles were bunching in preparation to inflict violence. She was almost too dizzy with dread to register that they’d passed the entry hall and were truly on their way to some other destination besides the front door.
The large book-lined room he led her into was obviously a den or office. He paused, his grip on her arm pulling her to a halt too while he shoved the door solidly closed behind them. Only then did he release her.
“Pick a place to sit,” he told her gruffly then crossed the room to a huge desk that sat faced away from a set of glass double doors to the patio beyond. There were two leather wing chairs just this side of the desk, but there were two more at the side of the room on either side of a low table where another tray of iced tea sat. Judging by the lack of heavy condensation on the outside of the crystal pitcher, it must have just been brought in.
Claire stood edgily near the door, relieved to not have been thrown out of the house, but furious that he’d marched her in here like that. She didn’t want to “pick a place to sit.” Logan didn’t look like he planned to sit for at least a week either. They were both wound up and tense, and she was so on guard with him now that she didn’t want to go anywhere near him.
She was still tingling from his warm grip, still amazed that the crushing power she’d sensed in his fingers had been restrained to the point of gentleness. As big and strong as he was, his gentle grip was a stunning contrast.