No wonder the marriage had fallen apart.
“What is it, Brianna?”
“I just want to say thanks.”
She smiled and he could have sworn he felt warmth in every cell of his body. How childish of him. And he’d accused her of being easy to manipulate.
He mumbled a brief response. Then he had to make himself turn away. Before he did something really stupid.
“Really, Marco,” she said behind him.
“It’s not a big deal, Brianna.”
“Curtis would disagree.”
“I couldn’t care less what your Curtis thinks.”
“I’m just trying to say that he’d appreciate it, that’s all. And I appreciate it too.”
He turned to tell her the truth, to just admit it. He’d relented because of her.
But something else entirely came out of his mouth. “You know exactly how to get your way, don’t you?”
“What?” Brianna looked at him in bafflement. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“A flick of the lashes. A flirtatious look here and there. And I did exactly what you wanted. Your precious Curtis still has a job. And you’ve still got your feminine wiles. Let’s just move on now, shall we?”
She slammed her hands on her hips. “Why? Why did I think you were capable of any decency? You’re still exactly the same, aren’t you? Nothing’s changed.”
“Apparently not.”
“For the briefest moment back then I thought perhaps you might have grown a little. What a fool I can be.”
“Then we have something in common, after all.”
“Hah,” she barked. “We don’t have a thing in common.”
“Are you finished? I believe Enzo may be ready for bed.”
Brianna threw her hands up. “Yes. I believe we’re done.”
She stomped toward Enzo and picked him up. “I’ll be upstairs giving Enzo his bath,” she said. “After that, I’m going to bed.”
“I’ll help you.”
She whirled around.
Marco rolled his eyes. “With Enzo’s bath, I meant.”
She glared at him. “You’ll find the spare room upstairs. I don’t even want to know you’re here for the next week. Do you understand?”
Now that, Marco thought, watching her go up the stairs, would be easier said than done.
COFFEE. SOMEONE HAD definitely brewed coffee. There was a ray of light streaming through the small crack of the blind on her bedroom window. The bright sun outside told her it was later than her usual wake-up time. Much later. And there was something else. It was quiet. Way too quiet. She fumbled around for the digital clock. It was almost eight.
Brianna jolted upright and climbed out of bed. Something wasn’t right. Enzo never slept this late.
Panic clenched at her chest as she hastened her way to his nursery. Gripping the door handle, she braced herself for all the possible horrors that might explain why Enzo hadn’t woken yet. Was he ill? Had he hurt himself somehow?
Could Marco have taken—
No. He wouldn’t.
When she finally found herself next to the little crib, the rush of relief brought tears to her eyes. Enzo was sleeping soundly, his chubby fingers closed around the silk trimming of his favorite blankie. She watched as his eyelids fluttered, then sealed closed again. Brianna couldn’t help reaching for him. At the risk of waking him, she touched his cheek, stroked her fingers through the fine baby curls on his head. He looked so peaceful.
So vulnerable.
“He just fell asleep again.”
She jumped at the quiet voice behind her. It was Marco, on the rocking chair in the corner of the room. He stood and motioned for her to follow him out into the hallway.
“He woke up at six,” Marco said when they were outside. “I read to him for a while then rocked him back to sleep.”
“I didn’t hear him,” Brianna said.
“I’m a lighter sleeper. Always have been. Besides, I know you were pretty tired.”
“Well, thank you.”
“There’s no need to thank me for putting my own son back to sleep.”
Brianna had to refrain from grunting. How many nights had Marco tucked Enzo in when he was an infant? “I just meant it allowed me to sleep in, that’s all. Have you always been this hard to thank?”
He gave her that insolent stare again. The look that made Brianna feel as if he were actually touching her. “Too bad we’re splitting up. I could come up with all sorts of ways you could thank me.”
His words sent heat shooting through her core. At least she was better prepared this time. Unlike yesterday’s thin T-shirt, last night she’d worn bulky flannel pajamas to bed. But somehow, she still felt naked to his gaze.
Marco was already dressed in casual khaki pants and a black silk shirt that brought out the hue of his eyes. He honestly had to be the most handsome man she’d ever met. All the more reason she wasn’t about to touch his last comment with a ten-foot pole.
“Are you going somewhere?” she asked, changing the subject.
“I was waiting for you to wake up. I’m going to spend the morning at Dirici’s. I’ll go through some paperwork then talk to the managers as they come in.”
She nodded. Same old Marco. His second morning here and already he couldn’t wait to rush into the Dirici offices. “I see. If you don’t mind my saying, that all sounds very routine. What about the ‘pressing’ business matter that had you altering your travel plans yesterday?”
He frowned. “I’m tending to it.”
“Well, I hope it’s taken care of very soon.”
A shadow passed over his face. She couldn’t make out what it meant.
“Will you be here all day?” he asked.
She sighed. She certainly had nothing else to do. There was no longer a job to prep recipes for. And she’d already contacted all the possible leads she knew of about a new position. A cook’s position at a decent restaurant wasn’t exactly a job you scanned the want ads for. An opening such as that would be more a word-of-mouth opportunity.
“I might take Enzo down to the park for a couple of hours. I don’t want to be away from the house too long though, in case any of the job possibilities pan out.”
Marco’s lips tightened. “You wouldn’t want to miss that,” he said dryly.
“Is there a reason for sarcasm this early?”
“I have to go,” he said, ignoring her question and leaving the room. “I left all my numbers on the table for you. My New York assistant’s name and number is there too.”
Moments later Brianna heard the front door shut. Her mornings were usually