“I am sorry for everything that has happened to you in the past few days.” His eyes squeezed shut again, as his own grief over losing Ginny and Oswald swamped him. “Very sorry. I’m going to miss your mama, too. But you’re mine now. And that means something.”
He wasn’t sure what it meant. He knew—to use Jimmy’s phrasing—that he wasn’t daddy material. The best he could do for this kid might be to hire a great nanny or a team of nannies—or maybe find the best nanny on the planet and give her every cent of his money to raise this little girl. But whatever he decided, Matt Patterson didn’t abdicate responsibility or say die without a fight.
And as soon as he figured out how to fight, he would fight.
He slid out of the limo, Bella in his arms, and headed for the door into the mansion.
With his resolve in place, he noticed Bella’s crying but he reacted to it differently. Something was wrong. He had to fix it.
Unfortunately, he didn’t know how. She didn’t feel wet. She wasn’t generating any god-awful smells. So he steered clear of the diaper area. He asked about food. Mimed feeding himself. She only cried harder. He tried dancing. A couple waltzing twirls caused her to blink in confusion and quit crying for a few seconds, but when he stopped dancing she started crying.
He danced again. Around and around and around the foyer they went. Back to the den where he deposited the diaper bag, took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt—all while dancing a baby around the sofa.
They danced through the empty kitchen. Up the hall. Around the dining room table. Across the sunroom. Until he felt dizzy and his legs became rubbery.
Where the hell was the adoption agency woman…Claire? Where the hell was Claire?
As if she’d heard him, the gate buzzer sounded. He raced to the com unit and hit the button. “Claire?”
“Yes. It’s me.”
Her musical voice sent sensation skipping down his spine, bringing her pretty face and sensual body to mind. If she were any other person, if he’d met her any other way, he would date her—
Oh, who was he kidding? He’d sleep with her. But needing her the way he did for Bella, he couldn’t even consider sleeping with her. Technically, once she began helping him with the baby, she became an employee.
A smart man didn’t hurt a woman in his employ. Especially not one he so desperately needed.
Regret tumbled through him as he pressed the com button. “I’m opening the gate now.”
He hit two more buttons and Bella patted his cheeks, as if trying to get his attention.
“What? You want to dance some more?”
She giggled.
What went through Matt’s heart was so foreign he couldn’t describe it, but it felt like tug of longing crashed into a wall of truth.
He couldn’t raise a child. For Pete’s sake! He was the Iceman on Wall Street. Unyielding. Intractable. The only thing he knew was severity. Hard truth. He didn’t have an ounce of softness in him.
Bella patted his cheek again, squealing with delight, obviously trying to get him to dance some more.
Yearning surged through him, but before he could capture it, it hit that wall of truth again. He was hard, cold. No matter how much he wanted to be the one who showed this child she was loved, that she didn’t have to be afraid, he knew he couldn’t. His family had taught him that people lied. His ex-wife had shown him that even when he wanted love he didn’t know how to accept it.
So how could he show this little girl she was loved?
He couldn’t.
After parking in front of Matt Patterson’s mansion, Claire got out of her little red car and popped her umbrella. Standing in the cold rain, staring at the residence, she suddenly understood what it meant to be a billionaire. Her entire condo building could fit into his house.
She hesitated at the sidewalk. Her heart tumbled in her chest as the reality of what she’d just agreed to hit her. For the first time in five years she was attracted to a man and she’d agreed to spend the evening in his house, helping him care for his baby.
She straightened. This fear was ridiculous. She was an adult. Back when she’d fallen for Ben she’d been a starry-eyed ingenue. She now knew how to control herself.
Plus, this situation was totally different. Matt Patterson wasn’t a professor she looked up to. In fact, she’d be teaching him. There’d be no danger that he’d sweep her off her feet by impressing her with his brilliance. When it came to baby care, Matt Patterson had no brilliance. She’d be fine.
Even before she got to the wood front door with the brass knocker, it opened. Matt stood before her, his hair oddly disheveled, his jacket removed and shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbows. It looked like there might be a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead.
“Come in. Come in,” Matt said, all but dumping Bella into her arms after she closed her umbrella and angled it by the door. “I’ve changed my mind about the nanny. I think we need to get one now.”
“Okay.” Bella on her arm, Claire slid out of her coat and walked into the foyer. A huge crystal chandelier dominated the space. Her heels clicked on the Italian marble floor. The sound echoed around them.
“I have the cards you gave me in my jacket pocket in the den.” He turned and headed down a hall.
Claire followed him.
“But it’s all so confusing.” He stopped in front of a closed door. “I’ve never even considered hiring a nanny before.” He peeked back at her. “Do I get somebody who’s old…old and cuddly…who might want to retire before Bella hits four? Or somebody who’s young and sophisticated who might not love her enough. Read her stories. That kind of stuff.”
“You’re overthinking.”
“That’s because this is very important to me.” He opened the door and led her into a neat-as-a-pin den that could double as an office given that there was an overstuffed sofa and chair in front of a big-screen TV, as well as a heavy oak desk and tall-backed chair on the far side of the room.
He went to the desk and plopped on the chair. But before Claire sat, she sniffed and frowned. “You haven’t by any chance changed her diaper in the past hour.”
“She wasn’t wet.”
Her nose wrinkled. “I think she is now. Where’s the diaper bag?”
He pointed to the overstuffed sofa where the baby’s bag leaned drunkenly against the arm, beside his jacket, which had been tossed haphazardly on the sofa back. “There.”
“Okay…so…” She peeked at him. “There wouldn’t happen to be a nursery in this house?”
He snorted. “Not hardly.”
“Okay.” She looked around again, knowing she could make do. “How about a blanket?”
He rose from his chair. “Blanket I can help you with.” He frowned. “I think. I know there’s a linen closet upstairs somewhere.”
“You get a blanket and I’ll rummage through the diaper bag for a diaper. Hopefully by the time I’m ready to change her you’ll be back with a blanket.”
He nodded once and left the room.
When she was sure he was gone, Claire waltzed Bella around the desk once. Rocking the floor with the baby, she’d discovered dancing was the only way to get her to stop crying, but it was also fun. Sort of their point of connection.
“So how’s it going with the new daddy so far?”
She screeched and Claire laughed. “You’re right. He’s