Diamonds are for Sharing: Her Valentine Blind Date / Tipping the Waitress with Diamonds / The Bridesmaid and the Billionaire
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He was wearing slacks that fit his muscular body like a glove, bulging in all the right places, and a silky white shirt open low at the neck. He hadn’t shaved and his face looked stunningly sexy with a day’s worth of dark beard.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded in a voice just above a whisper. She didn’t bother to ask how he’d found out which of the city’s hundreds of coffee shops she worked in. She knew his answer to that one. His people knew how to find these things out. Something told her he would always find her if he wanted to, and she wasn’t sure if that was a promise or a threat.
Max looked at her in wonder. She had her thick blond hair tied back, but little curls were breaking free all around her face. She wore a stiff, starched uniform, baby-blue with white lacy trim and a white lacy apron, sensible white shoes and a perky little hat. She looked for all the world like an exceptionally adorable matron in a fantasy children’s ward. He half expected to see friendly cartoon characters bouncing along behind her.
“I came because I need to talk to you,” he said. “You’re the only person I know who knows anything about babies.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked quickly, a tiny flare of alarm shivering through her. “Has something happened?”
“No, nothing. Jamie’s fine. Just fine.” Max hesitated. He knew he sounded defensive and that made him frown more fiercely.
“Then what’s wrong?” She shook her head in bewilderment.
“Nothing. Well, something.”
He shook his own head, trying to figure out how to express the discomfort he felt with the childcare he’d arranged without sounding like a candidate for a mental clinic. Maybe what he’d seen was normal. Maybe he was being a crank. But maybe, just maybe, Mrs. Turner was a lousy nanny. He just didn’t know the answer.
He sank down into the stool at the counter and turned up the cup. She moved automatically, filling it with coffee.
“Explain,” she demanded impatiently. “What are the symptoms?”
His beautiful hands with their long, tapered fingers curled around the cup. She watched him do it, fascinated. Everything about him seemed better, even the way he held a cup. But she didn’t have time for any swooning this afternoon. This was all about the baby.
“Well?” she said.
“It’s just … oh, hell.” He looked up, appealing to her supposed expertise. “He’s crying a lot.”
Cari froze and looked at him quickly. Brian had hated it when their baby had cried. In fact, it seemed to drive him a bit crazy when it happened. Her heart beat a little faster, but she took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. Max wasn’t Brian. He hadn’t said he couldn’t stand it, just that it worried him.
Okay, start over again.
She nodded a little stiffly. A baby crying wasn’t really unusual. But if it was happening to the point where Max was worried, she was going to delve into it a bit.
“No fever?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Gas?”
He made a face. “I don’t know.”
“Does the nanny hold him against her shoulder and pat or rub his back?”
He thought for a minute, then nodded. “I’ve seen her do that a time or two. But not for long.” He frowned. “I don’t trust the nanny. She’s obsessed with making sure she doesn’t spoil him. It’s like she thinks we’re raising a Spartan kid or something. She doesn’t want to make him too comfortable, as if he’ll get too soft if he’s happy.” He grimaced. “So she lets him cry.”
Cari was sure he was exaggerating, so she didn’t take him too seriously. She closed her eyes, thinking, then opened them again and shook her head.
“You know what it probably is? He misses his mom.”
Max searched her eyes. To his relief, Cari was taking his worries seriously. She was frowning, thinking over her instant diagnosis. She looked down at him.
“Did you get in a good supply of formula?”
“Of course.”
She nodded again, then her eyes widened. “Oh, maybe he was being breast fed. The formula might not agree with him. Maybe that’s why he’s crying.”
He groaned, looking miserable. “But Cari, there’s nothing I can do about that.”
“Of course not. He’ll just have to get used to the formula.”
“How long will that take?”
She had a hard time holding back a smile. His face was a picture of tragic helplessness. He was a man of action. He wanted to do something to make everything better. But he was being told there was nothing he could do, and that was maddening to him.
“Of course, the best thing would be if the baby’s mother came back. You haven’t found her yet?” she asked, knowing it wouldn’t be a welcome question at all.
He gave her a baleful look. “Why would I want to do that?”
She stared at him, hoping he was just being flip. “You know darn well you have to do that.”
His sigh was impatient. “Yes, I know. I’ve got people looking into it. We’ll find her.”
She frowned. His “people” had been pretty good at finding out where she lived and worked, but she was pretty easy. A woman who went off without telling anyone where she was going was probably going to be a tougher case.
“I hope you really mean that. It’s important. What if she comes back and her baby’s not in the apartment? Can you imagine how frightened she’ll be?”
He looked at her as though she’d lost her bearings. “Cari, this is a mother who walked out and never looked back. What makes you think she’ll care that much?”
“She’s a mother. I know what that’s like.”
To think a woman could walk out on her baby was incomprehensible to her. She’d lost a baby once herself. It had almost destroyed her life. “You don’t know why she disappeared. Maybe something happened.” She shrugged, getting into her speculative mode.
“Maybe she was kidnapped. Maybe she’s unconscious in some hospital somewhere. Maybe she bumped her head and has amnesia.”
He grimaced, not buying a bit of it. “Or maybe she went on a hot date and forgot she had a baby waiting at home.”
She swallowed hard, shocked he would say such a thing. The cynicism reminded her of some of the terrible things Brian would say, and she didn’t want to think he might be anything like her husband.
“You don’t have a very high opinion of women, do you?” she challenged.
He looked up as though surprised she was taking his offhanded remark seriously. “That’s not the point. And yes, I have a very high opinion of women. Some women.”
His mother. Whoopee. She was appalled.
“No matter what kept her away, when she comes back to her senses, she’ll want to know where her baby is.”
“That’s probably true. For what it’s worth.” His wide mouth tilted at the corners, but there was no humor in his dark eyes as he looked up at her. “You forget. I know Sheila. I never understood what Gino saw in her, and I was glad when they broke up. And I was the one who took her phone call when she tried to shake us down for money. I’m afraid that experience has made me a little cynical where Sheila is concerned.”
There was certainly no point in arguing about this. He knew the woman. She didn’t. But the baby needed to be protected. At the same moment she had that thought, so did he.
“Listen,” he said, rising from the stool and moving toward her. “I can pay you double whatever you’re making here. I could really use the help.”
She shook her head with vigor. She couldn’t even allow herself to imagine such a thing.
“No,” she said firmly. “Never.”
“Cari …” He took her hand in his and she stared down at those wonderful fingers. The nails were so even, so beautiful. He had hands like an artist. She could hardly breathe.
“Cari, listen. It wouldn’t be for long. Just until the DNA testing is completed. Then I’ll be taking him to Venice with me and I won’t need you anymore.”
Her gaze jerked up and met his. Did he have any idea what he’d just said? But she supposed he didn’t look at it quite the way she did. She yanked her hand out of his and turned away.
I won’t need you anymore.
Wasn’t that just like a man? Oh!
“Max, you’d better leave. I’ve got work to do.”
“Cari …”
“I’m serious. Go. I’m not going to work for you. Not ever.”
“Not ever.” He repeated it as though he couldn’t believe she’d said that and turned to go, then looked back. “By the way, the police found my car. It was only a few blocks from where it was stolen and they didn’t damage anything. So that’s okay.”
“I’m glad.”
He nodded, then shrugged and turned to leave again.
“But Max.”
He turned back, one eyebrow raised.
“Max, please take care of the baby. And find his mother. It’s really important.”
He was on the verge of pointing out that she could help make all that happen, but he bit his tongue, knowing it would be too much like begging.
“Okay, I’ll take that under advisement.”
“Good.”
Their gazes caught and held. For a moment she was afraid he was going to come back and grab her and carry her out, just like he’d carried her the night before. But the moment passed and he gave a half shrug.
“I’d better go back and see what the nanny’s up to,” he said at last. “If she’s trying to get Jamie to make his own bed, I’m throwing her out on her ear.”
And then he turned and was gone.
CHAPTER FIVE
RANDY was the perfect match for Cari, just as Mara had insisted all along. He was good-looking in a salt-of-the-earth kind of way, tall with a slender build, friendly, with sandy hair neatly cut and combed, steady gray eyes, a nice smile and a warm attitude. Cari liked him and immediately found herself thinking of women she knew she could set him up with. Seemingly, he was perfect for a lot of people.
“Why didn’t you say something when Max called you C.J.?” he asked, after she’d gone over exactly what had happened the night before.
“I had no idea what he was talking about. For all I knew, he was calling me Calamity Jane. That’s pretty much what I felt like once I realized what we’d done.”
He laughed. They had just been seated at a comfortable booth in the main dining room at the Longhorn Lounge. The atmosphere was pleasant, the servers attentive, and drinks were on the way. The scene was set for a lovely evening, and a lovely evening they would have. But that was all.
She’d gone on this date to make a friend happy, and that was as far as her commitment went. Shortly after the dinner was consumed, she would thank the man, shake his hand and go off into the sunset—alone. In the meantime, she was determined to be nice to Randy, if only to make up for the night before.
But she had to mentally kick herself to stop looking toward the door, hoping Max would make a sudden appearance. She’d already seen him once today, and that was one time too many.
“Well, it was all my fault,” Randy was saying graciously. “When I got there I knew I was half an hour late. I was afraid you’d have gotten disgusted and left me flat. So when I saw a gal coming in with a red rose, I was thrilled. Only, I took one look and I just really couldn’t believe it could be you.”
Déjà vu all over again.
“Really? What was she like?”
“Gorgeous.”
He said it like a man smitten, and she had to recoil, just a little. So he’d thought the woman he saw was too good to be true, had he? Funny. That was exactly what she’d thought when she saw Max for the first time. What a coincidence.
“Well, thank you very much,” she said a bit tartly, pretending to take offense. He hurried, a bit clumsily, to reassure her.
“No, I mean, you’re beautiful. Of course you’re beautiful.”
She knew she was actually looking pretty good tonight. She’d worn an electric-blue number with spaghetti straps and more cleavage showing than usual, and she’d topped it off with a cute little fake fur shrug that didn’t cover much of anything. Then she’d let her hair tumble free around her shoulders. But from the look shining in Randy’s eyes, she had a feeling her “pretty good” was nothing compared to C.J.’s “gorgeous.”
“You’re a lovely woman,” he was saying. “But in a totally different way. This gal looked like one of those heiresses with the big hair and the fancy clothes and diamonds and all that. Like the Dallas of the old TV show rather than the Dallas I usually live in.”
His gaze grew dreamy as he thought of her. Cari had to laugh, shaking her head.
“I must be quite a disappointment after all that,” she noted dryly.
Randy was surely planning on coming back with more reassurances, but he didn’t get the chance, as visitors were stopping by their table. Cari looked up right into Max’s intense gaze. Her heart leaped and the room seemed to tilt, and for just a moment she wondered if she was imagining things.
I could get lost in those eyes, was the thought running through her mind. Lost and bewitched. Again.
At the same time, his gaze made a quick trip along the line of her low-cut dress, and he gave every indication of liking what he saw there. Suddenly she realized she’d worn it for just such a reaction from him. And only him. And that only made her more light-headed.
It took her a beat too long to realize there was someone with him. Someone with a head of sumptuous red hair and a rather annoyed look on her beautiful face.
“So I guess we got it right this time,” Max was saying, nodding to Randy. “Max Angeli,” he said shortly, shaking hands with the other man. “And this is C.J. Kerry.”
“We’ve met,” C.J. noted, making an exasperated face at Randy before she favored Cari with a slight smile. “So nice to meet you, date stealer,” she said, making it obvious she was joking, but letting the edge to her tone shine through all the same. “I’m glad we’ve got things straightened out at last.”
Flustered, Cari wasn’t sure what she said in return. Before she knew what was happening, Max was sliding in to sit beside her in the well-padded booth.
“Listen, Cari, I need some advice,” he said, looking serious. “Do you mind?”
“Oh.” Cari knew this had to be about the baby. “No, of course not.” She turned toward him feeling a bit anxious.
“Hey,” C.J. complained, still standing in the aisle, one hand on her hip. With her flaming hair and the tiny shimmering dress that just barely covered up her generous assets, she had heads turning all over the restaurant.
“You can sit down, too,” Max told her in an offhanded manner. He nodded toward the seat beside Randy, who grinned and moved over eagerly, his eyes shining.
“Come on,” Randy said to C.J., noting her outraged face. “I’m not so bad.”
“Hah,” she harrumphed, flouncing the ruffles of her glittering skirt, but she joined him willingly enough.
Max ignored her and leaned toward Cari. He was back in his Italian silk suit with the white shirt open at the throat, looking very sleek and continental. He’d shaved, which was a shame, really. But he still looked lethally sexy.
“The nanny was trying to get him to drink his evening bottle just before I left,” he began. “He wouldn’t touch it, wouldn’t even let it into his mouth.”
Cari frowned, growing a bit concerned. “Was he crying?”
He hesitated. “Not really. Just sort of whimpering.” He thought for a minute. “But he did cry a lot earlier in the afternoon. It was enough to set your teeth on edge.”
“And you’re sure he wasn’t in pain?”
Max shook his head, looking tortured. “You know, that’s really hard to say. Just looking at him, I would say no. I didn’t see any sign of that. But it’s kind of hard to be sure when you don’t speak their language, you know?”
Cari bit her lip, nodding. She could remember many long nights walking the floor with Michelle, wondering whether or not to call the doctor. Barring overt signs of illness, injury or distress, that was always a wrenching decision, especially at two in the morning.
“So here’s what I want to know,” he went on, gazing hard into her eyes, taking up all her attention. “Should I fire the nanny?”
Cari stared back at him. A part of her knew he had no business asking her to give him this sort of advice. What was she to him? She had no responsibility, no ties to this child. Why would he ask her?
But another part wanted to make sure baby Jamie was safe just as much as he did. The thought of a baby left to the winds of chance horrified her any time she came across such a situation. Babies needed protection at all times.
“Do you have someone else you can call?” she asked.
He shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers.
She could see how much this was bothering him, and it completely surprised her. She never would have pegged him for the sensitive type. That was the good thing. But he sure couldn’t seem to handle a crying child. That was the bad thing—a warning flag to her. Brian had been totally intolerant of baby noises. That had been exactly what had triggered what had happened the nightmare night of the accident.
But she couldn’t think about that. This was completely different. Max wasn’t Brian. And listening to babies cry could be very frustrating, especially when you didn’t really know the child. But babies did cry. Sometimes it was nothing more than being unfamiliar with their new surroundings.
“Give it until morning,” she suggested. “By then you’ll have enough experience with the woman to know if you want her to stay or not.”
He seemed to wince and looked away. It was obvious he wanted to be told his instincts were right and he should fire the woman.
C.J. had been watching their exchange, her gaze going back and forth between them as though it were a Ping-Pong match. “So, let me get this straight. You two have a baby together?”
They both looked at her and cried in unison “No!”
“No, no, no,” Max amplified, looking impatient with the interruption. “This is my brother’s baby.”
“Oh.” C.J. looked surprised. “I didn’t know Gino had a baby.”
They stared at her.
“You knew Gino?” Max demanded.
“Sure.” She smiled, looking pleased that the attention was back where—in her mind—it belonged. “I met him when he was here last year.”
Max looked incredulous. “Gino was here? What for?”
She shrugged. “Pretty much the same thing you’re here for,” she noted, giving him a sly look. “He wanted to buy the ranch.”
Max’s head went back. This was news to him. He and his brother had been close in many ways, including the family real estate development business they had taken over from their father and ran together. Why would Gino have come to Texas without telling him? It didn’t make a lot of sense. Unless he’d been as intent on doing something to make their mother happy as he was himself.
“You know that he recently died in a plane crash, don’t you?” he asked her, grimacing at the effort it took to talk casually about him when the pain was still so raw.
“Yes, I know, and I’m so sorry about that.” She nodded her sympathy and actually looked as though she meant it. “He seemed like a great guy. Though I didn’t care much for the woman he had with him.”
“Sheila?” Max frowned.
“Yes, I think that was her name.” C.J. made a face. “Shifty looking.” Then her face changed as though she’d just remembered something. “Actually, funny thing. I heard from her the other day. She was on my answering machine. I didn’t call her back. She said she was here in town, and I could tell she was going to be asking for money.”
“You were probably right. She’s been doing a lot of that lately.” Max was staring at her hard, as though he was seeing something new in her, something that gave him pause. “So Gino couldn’t talk you into selling,” he said softly.
“Of course not.” Her chin came up and her huge green eyes were glittering with resolve. “I’m not selling the ranch. Ever. It’s my heritage. It’s all I’ve got now that all my family is gone.”
Max’s dark eyes narrowed speculatively as he gazed at the woman, but the server arrived with the drinks before he could make a comment on what she’d said.
“We should go get ourselves a table, honey,” C.J. said to him, raising an eyebrow for emphasis.
He looked around as though surprised to find they weren’t where they belonged. Then he decided to do something about it. “There’s plenty of room at this table,” he said. “Let’s eat here.”
“What?” the other three cried, staring at him.
“Is there a problem?” he asked, looking from person to person. There was no sense of give to his attitude, and the others were the ones to back down. One by one, each reluctantly shook his or her head, as he looked at them.
“No. Of course not.”
“Well, then.” He shrugged and looked at the server. “I’ll have a Scotch, neat. And you?” He nodded toward C.J.
C.J. ordered, but Cari wasn’t listening any longer. This evening was turning out almost as surreal as the last one had been. If only Mara had left well enough alone in the first place, she would be home right now with some soft music playing and a nice novel in her hand. If only!
As they ordered their meals and the first course came, Randy and C.J. seemed to be doing all the talking. They were bantering back and forth about things they’d done the night before and what it was like to have been dumped by their respective blind dates. They’d started out using it as a way to tweak Cari and Max, but as things went along, they seemed to be wrapped up in their own little joke, leaving the other two behind.
Not that she cared. Her attention was full of the man beside her and didn’t have much room left for the other two at the table. Max was quiet, almost morose, as though he were pondering life and all its unpleasant pitfalls and annoying blind alleys, and feeling glum about the prospects for happiness in general.
And Cari felt some sympathy for that point of view. She was wondering how she could have chosen the right path at her mythical fork in the road and yet have wound up on the wrong leg of the journey, anyway. Surely there had to be a shortcut to sanity somewhere. She had to get back where she belonged. But every minute she spent in the company of this man only made things worse. Just sitting here in his presence seemed to solidify the extraordinary attraction she felt for him. There was no getting around it—he was hot!
And that was bad. Sexual attraction was an illusion that clouded the mind and made you do stupid things. She had to guard against it. Experience suggested she was susceptible to the influence of strong men, and she had to fight the temptation to succumb. It wasn’t easy.
Every time his gaze accidentally met hers, every time his hand brushed her arm, every time he spoke and his voice seemed to resonate in her soul, all she could think about was the way that full, luscious mouth had felt on hers the night before. This was making her nervous. It took all her control to keep from shaking like a leaf.
At one point, she almost knocked over her wineglass and Max reached out to steady it for her, leaning in close to do it. His crisp, clean scent filled her head, and the sense of his pure masculinity swept over her like a tantalizing breeze.
“Stop it,” she thought to herself, feeling a bit desperate. “Just stop doing that.”
“Stop what?” he murmured as he drew back, looking at her in that heavy-lidded way that caught at the breath in her throat. “I’m not doing anything.”
She stared at him, aghast. She’d only thought the words, surely. How could he have heard her? Had she actually said them aloud—or was she going crazy?
Okay, the votes were in. She was going crazy. Here she was, sitting beside a man who could never be for her, but could ruin her for all the other men in the world if she didn’t watch her step. And what was she doing? Gulping down wine like it was high noon in the Gobi Desert.
Smart, Cari, my dear. Very smart.
Ooops. She looked up quickly, wondering if she’d said that aloud, too. But no one was paying any attention to her. What a relief. Putting her head down, she began to eat automatically. If she cleaned her plate, maybe she would be allowed to go home to that book.