He’d have to adjust his fantasies, though. The way she was losing weight, he could probably occupy himself in the shower by counting her ribs.
Justin cursed himself and yanked the microwave door open, three seconds before it was due to stop. Laura was not his type. There was vulnerability in her eyes that marked her strictly off limits to someone like him. He wasn’t a saint, but he tried not to get involved with women who expected more than he would ever want to give.
He’d just take her the damn pizza, and be done with it.
He was at the door when the scream ricocheted through the building. Adrenaline pounding through his body, he yanked the baseball bat from the umbrella stand, and half a second later was at Laura’s door.
CHAPTER TWO
IT’S just the cat, just the cat, someone chanted in her ear and she realized it was herself. She forced herself to look at the bed, expecting the white Angel to be sitting there, looking accusatory over the lack of tuna.
But no.
Laura blinked when the shape on the bed took form. It wasn’t a cat. It was bigger than a cat, not as furry, and probably wasn’t obliging enough to lick itself clean.
A baby.
She squeezed her eyes shut and counted to twenty before opening them again. Maybe stress had caught up with her. After all, she’d been working fourteen hours a day for almost two weeks now. Yes, it had to be stress. Stress working with her biological clock to create the illusion of a tiny baby sleeping in her bed. Her biological clock had probably been awakened by the unusual stimulus of a real life male in close proximity. The child had to be an illusion. For one, if it had been a real baby, it would have woken up when she screamed.
Yes. That was it. It had to be an illusion. She opened her eyes, feeling better already.
The illusion was still there.
Still sleeping. Looking very, very real, tiny nose, chubby cheeks, long lashes and all. The soft baby-snore convinced her that the infant was for real.
Illusions didn’t snore.
How could there be a baby lying in the middle of her bed? In her locked apartment? She pinched herself. If it wasn’t an illusion, perhaps it was a dream?
Nope. No such luck.
“Laura?”
Mr. Chocolate Eyes again, his voice also chocolate smooth as it snaked through the small apartment, even raised in urgent inquiry. She groaned. He must have heard her scream, and, ever gallant, come to the rescue.
“Laura?” he called again. “I heard you scream, and the door is open. I’m coming in, okay? I’m calling the police.”
She shot to her feet and out in the hallway, just as Justin barged into the apartment, body tensed for fight, cell phone in one hand, a baseball bat in the other.
“I’m fine,” she said, trying for a smile. “No need for the police. There’s no danger. I was just startled. Sorry if I scared you.”
His eyebrow rose. “The scream turned my blood to ice. What was it?”
Laura tugged at her hair, not sure herself what was going on. “There’s nothing wrong.” Exactly. There was just a strange baby lying in her bed.
“Do we have another cat burglar?”
“Haha,” she said dutifully, grinding her teeth at the reminder. “Yes. I mean, no. Not precisely.”
“Dog burglar?”
“Well, since you ask, it’s actually a baby burglar. Did you see anyone around today?”
“No, I just got home the same time as you did.” Justin slid his cell phone into his pocket. “Baby burglar? What are you talking about?”
“Someone left a baby in my apartment.”
“I see.” He left the baseball bat leaning against the wall. “Guess I won’t be needing that. You mean you’re baby-sitting?”
“Apparently. Only I have no idea whose baby it is. Come see.” Without giving him the chance to decline, she turned toward her bedroom again, relieved to hear him follow. This was too much to handle alone.
“See?” She moved around to the other side of the bed to give him an unobstructed view. She pointed at the evidence. “A baby. He was just lying there when I got home.”
Justin stared down at the sleeping intruder. “I see,” he repeated.
“Well, what do you think?” she asked impatiently, when he didn’t seem about to elaborate.
He looked at her with a crooked smile. “Well, your diagnosis is correct. It is a baby.”
“Are you always this patronizing, or is it something I bring out in you?”
He didn’t answer, but bent over the child for a closer look. “He’s okay, isn’t he?” he asked. “Just sleeping, not unconscious or anything?”
“How should I know? He was just lying there when I got home,” she said. Shock was dissipating and confusion settling in instead. “He looks fine, he’s breathing fine and everything. And he was making some sounds before.” Scaring the wits out of her, just like Angel had.
She slid down to sit on the edge of the bed, not taking her eyes off the child for one second. Despite the way she had screamed, the infant was fast asleep, both hands up above his head, as he nearly vanished into the soft duvet. If he’d been closer to the edge she could have sat down on him, she thought in horror. His hair was coal black and slightly curly. The tiny fists were curled, half inside the sleeves of his sweater.
All in all, a pretty adorable kid, if you were the motherly type. He was dressed in a green and white sweater, green overalls and white socks, a green pacifier hanging from a clip. In one fist he was clutching a green teething ring.
We have our first clue, Laura’s hysterical side interjected quite cheerfully, as she reached out and tentatively touched a green garment. This baby must be Irish.
Okay. She had to stop panicking and start thinking. What was this baby doing here? Thank God he was asleep. She didn’t have a clue about babies. Her experience was more or less limited to having been one, once upon a long ago, and she didn’t think that would be much help.
Think. Whose baby could this be? Why was he there? She did not know this baby. She didn’t know a lot of babies, and none of them had keys to her apartment.
“Who is he?”
Laura started. She’d almost forgotten Justin was here. “I told you, I have no idea who he is. I don’t know anyone with an infant. Heck, I don’t even know any heavily pregnant women. Do you suppose he’s a newborn?”
“I have no idea. It’s been a while since I’ve been around babies.”
She cocked her head to the side as she checked the child’s size. “I’d guess he was a few months old. He looks far too big to give birth to. Of course, they always do.”
“Yeah, well, nature knows what she’s doing.”
“Easy for you to say. Nature didn’t give you a uterus and forget to include the zipper.”
He looked at her across the bed, frowning. “Do you have some sort of a childbirth phobia?”
Laura brought her fingers to her temples, trying to keep her voice a whisper in the hope that the child would stay asleep until this nightmare ended. “Listen to us, we’re both babbling. What do I do about the kid? I can’t believe this is happening to me.”
Justin shrugged. “I’m sure the kid won’t be any more happy about it than you are, when he wakes up. Are you sure you don’t know his parents? Why would