Salvatore 01 - Who's Holding the Baby Page 3

  “Wait!” Pietro called. He started to follow, then realized he was somewhat encumbered.

  “We need to discuss this,” Luc began.

  “Later.” Pietro fumbled awkwardly with his armload and shot his brother a look of anguished pleading. “I have to stop her!”

  “Mr. Salvatore?” Edward filled the doorway. “Is there a problem?”

  “Yes, there is,” Luc said. “Call down to the front desk. There’s a young woman, petite, long dark hair, and probably crying. I want her detained. She’s . . . “ He glanced at the baby. “She’s left behind a rather important package.”

  “Right away, sir,” Edward agreed, and disappeared. Luc turned back to his brother. “Pietro —”

  “No! There isn’t time.” Without further ado, Pietro dumped the baby into Luc’s arms. “You watch Tony. I’ll go get Carina.”

  “Wait a minute! Come back here!” But it was too late. Pietro was gone. Luc stared in dismay at the baby, then glanced at Grace. A suspicious gleam appeared in his eyes. “Why, Miss Barnes,” he practically purred, advancing toward her with his most charming — and determined — smile. He held out the baby. “Look what I have for you.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  The Great Lie

  Still Day 337and all is not so well …

  Grace held up her hands and backed away. “Oh, no,” she protested. “This is your problem.”

  Luc stopped dead in his tracks, staring in astonishment. “You’d desert me in my hour of need?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’d leave Pietro and Carina in the lurch?” he demanded in disbelief.

  “Without question.”

  His brows drew sharply together. “You’d turn your back on a poor, helpless baby?”

  She stared at him, stricken. He’d gotten her with that one. She adored children. She always had. Throughout her teen years, when anyone had needed a baby-sitter, they’d called her. When the church needed someone to supervise the nursery on Sundays, her name was the first one mentioned. And though she wasn’t terribly experienced with babies, she was still an easy touch when it came to their welfare.

  “That’s not fair,” she complained. But he had her. And if he didn’t know it, he undoubtedly sensed it.

  “Come, caramia.” He held out Tony and offered a helpless smile. “I know nothing of babies. Besides, it won’t be for long. Only until Pietro returns with Carina and they sort out their little problem.”

  Unable to resist, she took the “little problem” and peered into his sweet, sleeping face. Luc leaned over, running a long finger across the baby’s flushed cheek.

  “He’s a Salvatore, all right,” Luc pronounced. “He’s the image of my brother.”

  “What’s going to happen with Pietro and Carina?” she asked in concern.

  “They’ll marry.” His golden eyes reflected his amusement. “It promises to be a rather volatile relationship, wouldn’t you agree?”

  She shuddered. “Too volatile.” A far more serious question troubled her, and she gathered her nerve to voice it. “How will your father take the news?”

  “Not well,” Luc admitted. “He’s as old-fashioned as Carina’s parents.” He smoothed the tiny line forming on Grace’s brow, his touch easing her distress and yet fermenting a strange agitation. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle him. The first order of business is to get them married. That should go a long way toward placating my father.”

  “Perhaps you could be a little vague about the exact wedding date,” Grace suggested. “Not lie, of course.” His Ups curved. “No, we’d never lie, would we?”

  She ducked her head. “Never,” she agreed in a muffled voice. “But if we were to omit one or two minor details … ?” She peeked up to see how he took to the suggestion.

  He shrugged, his expression unreadable. “We’ll play it by ear. Let’s hope that seeing his very first grandchild will temper my father’s reaction.”

  She gnawed at her lower lip. “He … he wouldn’t throw Pietro out of the family, would he?” She’d known parents who’d done that over far less serious infractions. But not Dom. He was the sweetest, most benevolent man she’d ever met. Surely he wouldn’t overreact to such an extent. He had to realize it could tear his entire family apart if he were to disown Pietro. And she knew for a fact that family meant everything to him.

  “He might,” Luc acknowledged grimly, confirming her worst fears. “He has very strong opinions about this sort of thing. And his opinion is … it doesn’t happen. Period.”

  She stared at Luc in alarm. “But —”

  He dropped a casual arm around Grace’s shoulders and gave her a reassuring hug. “Relax,” he said, his touch once again arousing a strange, disturbing flutter deep in her stomach. “You’re not to worry. I’ll take care of everything. Trust me.”

  Grace nodded, believing him. If there was one thing she’d learned about Luc, it was that he did precisely what he promised. If he said he’d take care of Dom, then he’d take care of Dom. As far as trusting him … She stared at Luc, stared at the lean, chiseled features that reflected his strength and power, and at the direct, golden eyes, so full of confidence and determination. Slowly, she relaxed. She’d trust him with her life.

  He released her, crossing to the large built-in cabinet on the far side of the room. “Let’s see what’s happening downstairs,” he said, folding back the cabinet doors and revealing a bank of monitors inside. Switching them on, he called up a view from the security camera in the lobby and put it on the large center screen. “There’s Pietro and Carina. I don’t see Edward, yet. I wonder what’s taking him so long?”

  “He must have gotten delayed in the elevator,” Grace murmured, crossing to stand beside him. “Oh, dear. They’re arguing again.”

  “That’s not arguing. That’s shrieking.”

  She frowned, cuddling the baby. “Maybe you should go down there and mediate.”

  After a momentary hesitation, he shook his head. “Pietro wouldn’t thank me if I butted in. He’s made it clear over the past year that he prefers taking care of his own problems without big brother’s interference. He’ll call if he needs help.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “No.”

  “No!” She spun to stare at him. “Did you say no?”

  “I said no.”

  “That doesn’t exactly make me feel any better,” she pointed out.

  He shrugged. “Considering how stubborn Pietro can be, it’s the best I can offer.”

  “It would seem stubbornness is a Salvatore trait.” She switched her attention back to the monitor. “I wish we could hear what’s going on. I don’t suppose you read lips.”

  He gave a short laugh. “I don’t need to. It’s obvious what they’re saying. Pietro’s yelling, ‘Why didn’t you tell me about Tony?’ “

  Grace allowed herself a brief smile, despite her concern. “And Carina is shouting back, ‘Why should I have?’ “

  He slanted her a quick look, a spark of humor glittering in his eyes. “Because I’m the father of your baby.” Her smile widened. “So?”

  “So, you shouldn’t have hidden my son from me.” He shifted closer. “I had a right to know about him.” Getting into the role, she replied, “You have no rights as far as I’m concerned. You betrayed me. You had an affair with.. .her.”

  Luc slipped an arm around Grace’s waist. “That other woman means nothing to me, miaamorata,” he murmured, his mouth practically brushing her cheek.

  She shivered, fighting the urge to return his embrace, fighting the sharp desire that intensified with every passing moment. How had this happened? How had this attraction managed to slip past her guard with such stunning ease. And why now, when she was so close to attaining her dream? She struggled to remember the role she played. ‘

  ‘The … the other woman . . . “

  “You’re the only woman I care about, the only woman I-“

  “Don’t say it,” she cut in sharply, tumbling out of her role with a
vengeance. “Not unless you mean it. Because I know you don’t care. Not really.”

  “I do.”

  She shook her head. “No. You love all women. I’m just one of many.”

  “You’re right. I admit it. I do love women.” He, too, had dropped the playacting, she realized, his eyes darkening, losing their glint and turning serious. Deadly serious. “I love all women, young and old, short and tall, with dark hair scraped back in a bun or with long blond hair left loose around the shoulders. They are all beautiful to me.”

  She gazed up at him in alarm, resisting the urge to touch her hair. Nervously, she licked her lips and whispered, “Then you admit it?”

  His index finger brushed her lower lip, the caress fleeting yet potent. “I admit only that I love all women. I love the diversity of their appearance. I love the unique scent of a woman — musky or flowery or as fresh as the first breath of spring. I love to listen to them speak, how one will sound rough and smoky and another as smooth as thick maple syrup. I love to watch them move, all long limbed and coltish or tiny dynamos bustling with energy. But my favorites are those who dance to some inner music only they can hear, supple and graceful and filled with the joy of living … like you.”

  She shook her head. “No … Don’t say any more.” But he didn’t stop. Instead his hands cupped her shoulders, his thumbs stroking the sensitive hollow of her throat. “Did you know that touching a woman is one of life’s greatest joys? To explore each silken curve and feel the hot rush of her passion, to hold her in your arms and know that your touch brings her to life.”

  She wanted to jerk away, but she couldn’t. Not while hampered by the baby … hampered by her reaction to his words, his touch. “Luc, you shouldn’t be saying these things to me,” she insisted weakly.

  “But I haven’t told you the best part about women. Do you know what it is?” He didn’t wait for her answer. “It’s their taste. The taste of a woman is a gift from the gods. It’s headier than the finest wine and more intoxicating than the strongest rum. And it only improves with age … and with experience.”

  She shut her eyes, afraid to look at him, afraid of the passion she read in his face. “You’re forgetting about Pietro and Carina,” she whispered, knowing she should be watching the monitor but unable to tear her gaze from Luc’s.

  “I haven’t forgotten them,” he murmured. “You accuse me of loving women. And I admit my guilt. You’re right. I do love women. But how I feel about them is nothing — absolutely nothing — compared with how I feel about you.”

  She shook her head, holding Tony tight to her breast. “You tell such sweet lies, beautiful lies. But that’s all they are — lies. Women fascinate you. You find them irresistible. Too irresistible to ever settle on just one.”

  “You’re wrong.” His voice was deep and husky, the underlying lilt more pronounced than ever. “Once a Salvatore falls in love, it’s for ever. He never strays.”

  She forced herself to look at him again, to try and judge the degree of honesty in his expression. “I — I don’t believe you.”

  “Yes, you do, because if s the truth. Salvatores never stray. Never.” Then he released her and stepped back. “And that, cam mia, is what Pietro is saying to Carina. It’s what I’d say in his place to the woman I loved.” Grace blinked, the spell of words he’d cast slowly fading. She didn’t know what to think, what to say … what to feel. Her gaze fell from his, and out of desperation she focused on the monitor. “Luc, look!”

  Carina and Pietro were no longer arguing. Action seemed to be the order of the day. Gesturing wildly, Carina grabbed a huge porcelain vase from off a pedestal beside the front door and dumped the contents over the top of Pietro’s head. Water, gladioli and bits of fern dripped from his shoulders and puddled on the floor.

  Grace winced. “I guess his explanation wasn’t as smooth as yours,” she murmured.

  “I guess not. But she shouldn’t have done that,” Luc said with a sigh. “He’s not going to take it at all well.” Sure enough, Pietro exploded, gesturing wildly. Just then, Edward appeared on the scene. Eyes practically popping out of his head, he attempted to brush the flower petals and pieces of greenery from Pietro’s suit.

  “I wish Carina would put that vase down,” Grace said, shifting Tony to her shoulder.

  “It’s where she’ll put it down that worries me.”

  No sooner had he said that, than Edward endeavored to wrest the vase from Carina’s hands. For a few tense seconds they tussled. Jerking it free, it flew from Edward’s hands and crashed against the side of Pietro’s head. He went down like a ton of bricks.

  Luc raced for a phone and called down to the security desk. “Call the staff doctor to help Pietro. Fast! I’ll be right there.”

  “Luc, wait! You better check this out first,” Grace called in a panic. “It doesn’t look good.”

  They could no longer see Pietro. A huge crowd had gathered around him, blocking the view. Off to one side, security men were converging on Carina, who wept copiously. Far worse, two police officers came bursting through the front doors. Carina looked from the security men to the police, and apparently decided the law was a safer bet than the furious employees of a stricken Salvatore. She darted to their side.

  “I don’t know what tale of woe she’s spinning, but it’s making quite an impression,” Luc observed in disgust. “She’ll be gone before I even reach the elevators. Yep. There she goes. Out the door, into the first cab that passes by and on her way to the airport.”

  “What about Pietro?” Grace asked in concern.

  “Wait a sec. He’s up.” Luc relaxed slightly. “Thank heavens.”

  “He seems to be all right, but he could still have a concussion. I wish the doctor was there,” Grace fussed. “Oh, no. Now he’s yelling at the police.”

  “Probably for letting Carina go.”

  “Why does that policewoman have her handcuffs out? They’re not going to arrest him, are they?” she questioned in alarm. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

  “Except give the police a hard time, knowing Pietro. They tend to frown on that.” He watched the screen, an intent expression on his face. “Good. They’re releasing him.”

  “Great, except where’s he going?” She pointed at the screen. “Now he’s leaving the building, too.”

  “Damn!” Luc thrust a hand through his hair. “He’s going after Carina. I should have guessed he’d pull something like that.”

  “But what about Tony? He can’t expect us . . . “ Her eyes widened in disbelief.

  He smiled grimly and nodded. “Looks like we have baby-sitting duties until Pietro catches up with Carina.”

  “Oh, no. No way. Not a chance.”

  Before he could respond, the phone rang. Luc snatched it up. “Edward? How’s Pietro? Yes, yes. I know he left. Where’s he headed?” He covered the mouthpiece and spoke to Grace, “I was right. He’s on his way to the airport. Hang on, Edward. I’m putting you on the speakerphone.” He punched a button.

  “Er … Mr. Salvatore? Can you hear me? This is Edward Rumple speaking. Over.”

  “We hear you,” Grace said quickly. “Is Pietro all right? He isn’t hurt too badly?”

  “Just a goose egg, Miss Barnes.Hardly any blood at all.” He cleared his throat. “But there is just one little problem.”

  “What is it, Edward?” Luc asked.

  “Well, ah, you aren’t going to like this, but . . . “

  “Spit it out.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Salvatore. See, Mr. Pietro happened to mention the baby the young lady left behind and, ah, well, the truth is … To be perfectly honest … “

  “Edward!”

  “I thought I’d better warn you that —”

  A loud pounding sounded on the outer door. “Police. Open up, please.”

  ” — the police are on their way up,” Edward finished lamely.

  For an instant Luc didn’t move. Then in a calm, collected voice, he said, “Thank you, Edward. Keep ever
ything under control down there and notify me the instant Pietro returns. I’ll deal with the police.” Hanging up the phone, he crossed to the door.

  “Luc?” Grace said uncertainly.

  He spared her a brief glance. “It’ll be okay. Just try not to look worried and let me do the talking.” At her nod, he opened the door and held out his hand. “Hello. I’m Luc Salvatore, president of Salvatore Enterprises. What can I do for you —” he checked their name tags ” — Officers Cable and Hatcher?”

  “We’re responding to a report of an abandoned infant,” said Officer Cable. She glanced at the baby Grace held. “Is that the child?”

  “This baby isn’t abandoned,” Luc stated firmly, moving to stand between Grace and the policewoman.

  “No?” Officer Hatcher, a tall, sturdy man, stepped forward. “Is he yours?”

  “He’s my nephew.”

  The two officers exchanged quick glances. “I’m afraid we’ll have to see some identification,” Cable requested.

  Grace could tell from their attitudes that they were taking this situation very, very seriously. Luc removed his driver’s license from his wallet and handed it to the policewoman. “Perhaps an explanation is in order?” he suggested with a quick smile.

  Grace waited for Officer Cable’s reaction to that smile. It wasn’t long coming. She fumbled for his license, ef-

  fected a swift recovery, then made a production of recording the information on her clipboard. A spot of color appeared high on each cheekbone. Luc didn’t even notice.

  Grace sighed. But then, he never did. He’d bowl them over like ninepins and never realize they’d fallen. To his credit, it wasn’t calculated. As Luc had admitted, he simply loved women and treated every last one with a devastating courtesy and warmth. It was, without question, his greatest charm.