Dani stroked the little girl’s back. “Poor Peaches. Grown-ups can be so stupid sometimes.”
“Was that a dig at me?” Nathaniel asked. He slouched in the chair across from hers. He looked very different in jeans, a navy sweatshirt and leather moccasins. Different and so very moody and sexy.
“Not at all,” she said.
“I’m innocent until proven guilty. Ophelia’s note means nothing.”
“Relax,” Dani said. “I’m not judging you. Besides, it’s Christmas. Everybody deserves a little miracle this weekend.”
“It will be a miracle if I don’t find Ophelia and wring her neck.”
“Poor Nathaniel. Everyone at works thinks you have no social life at all. Now you may have a child.”
“I’m not the father,” he said. “Quit saying that.”
“So you don’t want children?”
He huffed in exasperation. “Not now. Not today. Certainly not with Ophelia. I have no idea why she thought palming a kid off on me was a good idea. I haven’t a clue what to do with Peaches.”
“It’s not so hard,” Dani said, yawning. “The worst part is the sleep deprivation, or so I’ve been told,” she said hastily. “I’m not ready to be a parent, either.”
The room fell silent after that. Nathaniel had clearly nodded off. With his eyes closed, she was free to explore him visually to her heart’s content. For years, she had seen him in suits. He was a very handsome man who wore tailor-made attire well. But here in his home habitat, tired and discouraged in comfy clothes like any other American male, he seemed more real to her.
She didn’t want to care about his well-being. She didn’t want to worry about him. And she most assuredly did not want to get involved with him. Life was complicated enough without adding drama and heartbreak.
Time passed. She must have dozed off herself. The drowsiness was the aftermath of being so cold for so long and then getting dry and warm. Now, though, her stomach growled when she roused. If she stretched her leg, she could barely touch Nathaniel’s toe. “Wake up,” she whispered. “Nathaniel, wake up.”
He yawned and stretched, revealing a few inches of tanned, taut abs. “What’s wrong?” he grumbled, only half-awake.
“You promised to feed me.”
His eyes shot open. A look of stupefaction flashed across his face before he got ahold of himself. “Right.”
Dani rolled her neck to get the kinks out of it. “Sorry, it wasn’t a dream. The kid and I are still here.”
“Very funny.” He rolled to his feet. “I usually order in, but somehow I don’t think that’s an option.”
“I’d settle for peanut butter if you have any.”
“That I can do.”
After Nathaniel left the room, Dani stood carefully and cradled the sleeping baby against her shoulder. Her body ached from sitting in one position. More than that, she needed to walk around, anything to break the spell of intimacy that came from napping in her boss’s den. Too cozy. Too weird. Too everything.
Built-in bookcases flanked the fireplace. Books of every genre were mixed in together with no apparent regard for organization. Interesting pieces of glass and pottery shone in the illumination from can lights overhead.
Nothing about the library or the art matched what she knew of Nathaniel. Curiouser and curiouser.
He returned silently, startling her badly. The baby whimpered when Dani jumped. Nathaniel didn’t seem to notice. He set the food on the coffee table. “I have coffee or soft drinks. Which would you prefer?”
“Black coffee if it’s decaf.”
“It is.”
The tension in the room increased exponentially along with the vivid awareness that Dani didn’t belong here. Her presence was an accident of weather and timing. She bore no responsibility, either moral or otherwise, for Nathaniel and his surprise Christmas gift. Even if the little girl truly wasn’t his, Dani was not involved in that fight.
Then why was it so painful to think about leaving this sexy man and adorable baby tomorrow?
As if he had picked up on her tumultuous thoughts, Nathaniel shot her a look as he poured coffee. “Is there someone you need to call?”
“My family will be expecting me tomorrow afternoon, though with the weather, I’m not sure we’ll all be able to make it.”
“Where do they live?”
“My parents are in Gainesville. My sister and her husband settled in Chattanooga for work and because they love the area. My only brother, Jared, lives in Marietta. He’s probably the one who will have to come get me if I can’t drive my car. Mine’s a VW Beetle, so not really snow-worthy.”
“I see.”
It wasn’t much of a response. She gave up on chitchat and managed to eat one-handed. Either Nathaniel made a habit of buying gourmet peanut butter, or Dani was hungrier than she realized.
Her dinner companion prowled while he ate. The tension in his body broadcast itself across the room. Dani could understand his frustration.
When he pulled back the drapes and stared out into the night, Dani joined him at the window. All they could see in the beams from the streetlights was heavy, swirling snow. Nathaniel pulled out his phone and tapped the weather app. “Good Lord,” he said. “Look at the radar.”
The storm was far from finished. In fact, there was every indication it would still be snowing until the wee hours before dawn.
The scary situation had turned into an actual blizzard. It didn’t matter that by Tuesday the temps were supposed to be in the midfifties again. For now, they were well and truly stranded.
Nathaniel left her and began prowling again.
The silence built until Dani couldn’t bear it anymore. “Are you Jewish?” she asked, blurting it out before realizing that was not the kind of question one asked a work colleague.
He paused in his pacing to stare at her. “No. Where did that come from?”
Dani shrugged. “No Christmas tree. No decorations.” It was a logical conclusion.
“I live alone,” he said, his tone indicating a desire to shut the door on this particular line of conversation.
“So do I,” Dani pointed out. “But I have a tree and other stuff. It makes the season fun.”
“That’s a lot of work for only me to see. Can we change the subject?”
“Sure.” Maybe Nathaniel was a certified Scrooge. The idea made her sad. But she couldn’t very well persist in the face of his disinclination to explain. His lack of December frivolity was well documented and would remain a mystery. “I am worried about one thing,” she said.
“What’s that?”
Nathaniel had finished his sandwich and now cradled his coffee cup between his big, long-fingered hands. Oops. No thinking about hands, Danielle.
“Well,” she said slowly, hoping she wasn’t blushing. “I’m afraid this little one has slept so much during the evening she’ll be up all night. I’ve heard about babies who get their days and nights mixed up.”
“I can get by on a few hours of sleep. I’ll take the night shift. You deserve some rest.” He stood up. “Let me show you the guest room. I guess you’ll need a different shirt to sleep in?”