Her chin lifted. “I’m not a charity case. It’s out of the question.”
For a moment he saw a spark of the temper he hadn’t known existed. Perhaps Mia wasn’t so meek after all. “I hired you in good faith. I’ll sue for breach of contract if you leave.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t be absurd.”
“The building may be a mess at the moment, but I still have a business to run on paper.”
“I’ll have to find a place to rent until the repairs are finished.”
“First of all, rental property in Silver Glen is slim pickings. And even if you found something, they’d want you to sign a twelve-month lease. You and Cora won’t be here that long.”
“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”
He had ruffled her feathers for sure. “It won’t be so bad, I swear. My place is plenty big. I won’t bother you at all.”
“And what if the baby bothers you? What if she cries in the middle of the night?”
He grinned, feeling his mood lift despite the day’s events. “I think I can handle it. C’mon, Mia. Think outside the box. We were friends once upon a time.”
“I’ve changed. I don’t let people push me around anymore.”
“From what I remember, that was never the case with us.” He shrugged. “If anything, you were the one ordering me to do this and that.”
“I wouldn’t have had to get tough if you hadn’t been so stubborn.”
“I’ve changed,” he said, echoing her assertion and giving her his most angelic smile.
“I’ll have to see it to believe it.”
“Then that settles it. Let me get my car and you can follow me home.”
“I never agreed to this nonsensical plan.”
“But you know you’re going to in the end. From what I can tell, you’re stuck with me for a few weeks. Chin up, Mia. It won’t be so bad.”
* * *
Mia knew Dylan Kavanagh was rich. Everybody knew it. But when you spent time with him, that knowledge tended to get shoved into the background. He had spent his life proving that he was just an ordinary guy. No flashy clothes. No Rolex watch on his wrist. No silver spoon.
The truth, however, was somewhat different. Mia had plenty of opportunity to chew on that fact as she followed Dylan’s big, black pickup truck all the way outside of town and along a winding country road. When they turned off the main highway onto a narrow lane, weeping willows met overhead, creating a cool, green, foliage-lined tunnel that filtered sunlight in gentle rays.
Occasionally a pothole left over from the winter gave one of Mia’s tires a jerk, but all in all, the road was in good repair. Cora slept through the trip, though soon she would be demanding to be fed. Thankfully, they rounded a bend in the road and Dylan’s home came into view.
To call it a house would be like calling the Mona Lisa a finger painting. Dylan and his architect had created a magical fairy tale of a place. The structure, built of mountain stone, dark timbers and copper, nestled amidst the grove of hardwood trees as if it had been there forever. A small brook meandered across the front of the property. Someone had built a whimsical bridge over one section and a gazebo near another.
Flowers bloomed everywhere, not in any neat garden, but wild and free, as if they had claimed the space for their own. Mia rolled to a halt behind Dylan and turned off the car. She wanted to take in every wonderful detail, but Cora awoke as soon as the engine stopped.
Even now, Mia marveled that someone so small and perfect was hers to love. Except for getting her nights and days turned around, Cora was a very easy baby. She had already learned to smile and coo, and her pudgy arms and legs were the picture of health.
Try as she might, Mia couldn’t see any evidence of traits from the anonymous man who had donated his sperm. Sometimes she felt guilty for robbing Cora of the chance to have a father, but other times she was simply happy to have a healthy child.
Dylan came back to help her with the diaper bag and the small suitcase that held immediate necessities. “You can have your pick of rooms,” he said, ascending the wide stone staircase in step with her. “There are four bedrooms on the second story, but I’m sure you don’t want to lug Cora up and down the stairs all the time. I think you’ll like the guest suite on the main level. It has a small sitting room where you can put the baby bed, so you won’t have to sleep in the same room with her.”
As he opened the massive front door and ushered Mia inside, she almost gasped. The interior was straight out of an architectural magazine. Vaulted ceilings soared over the living area. Above them, a corridor with a fancy carved railing circled three sides. Doors opened off of it at regular intervals, presumably the bedrooms Dylan had mentioned.
On this level, however, the central open floor plan was flanked by wings to the left and right. “Kitchen, etcetera over there.” Dylan pointed. “And in the opposite direction, two large suites.”
Her cheeks heated. He was telling her that she and Cora would be staying in the wing that housed his quarters. She could ask for one of the rooms upstairs, but he was right. Who wanted to carry a baby up and down the stairs for every nap and diaper change?
Cora began to whimper. Mia realized that feeding time couldn’t be delayed much longer. Thankfully, Dylan was perceptive. He motioned toward the right side of the house. “If you go through the kitchen, you’ll find a sunroom that has comfy chairs. It looks like she’s getting hungry.” He touched her head gently, stroking her silky hair. “She’s been an angel, hasn’t she?”
Mia nodded, feeling her breathing get jerky because he was so close. “It’s actually easier to travel with her now than it will be in a few months. Once she’s mobile, all bets are off.”
His big body loomed over hers, his clothes smelling faintly of smoke, but not masking the aroma of shaving soap and warm male. Smiling, he cocked his head toward the opposite side of the house. “If you trust me to unload the trailer and set up the crib, I can get started on that while you’re feeding her.”
“I can’t let you do all that,” she protested weakly.
“Exactly how did you expect to hold an infant and unpack at the same time?” he asked.
“Quit being so damned logical.” It had been a very stressful day, and it wasn’t even dinnertime yet.
Dylan put an arm around her shoulders and steered her toward the kitchen. “It takes a village to raise a child—don’t you know?” he said, grinning. “It wouldn’t kill you to say ‘Thank you, Dylan.’”
She sighed inwardly, feeling as if she were being railroaded, but not really having a choice at the moment. “Thank you, Dylan.”
“That’s better. Much better. Now go feed the kid before she gets any redder in the face. I’ll handle all the rest.”
* * *
Mia fell in love with the sunroom. It didn’t really look like a Dylan room at all. At least not the Dylan she knew. Cozy furniture covered in expensive chintz fabric beckoned a visitor to sit and fritter away a few hours. The windows were screened, so clearly when the temperatures allowed, they could be raised easily.
Bookcases lined the wall that bordered the hallway. Their presence gave her pause. Dylan had a long-standing battle with the written word, but maybe he had learned to enjoy some of volumes he had collected. In one corner of the room, a hammock suspended from a metal frame rocked slightly, as if propelled by an unseen hand. Thou shalt not covet. Mia remembered her mom’s gentle admonition when she had wanted a shiny red bicycle like the one the girl next door owned.
Bicycles were one thing, but this room—oh,