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“Family rifts aren’t usually that easy to solve.” Alex took a long sip of scotch.
“Either way, it’s none of my business.”
“So where’s Bailey staying?”
“I said she could stay with me—just for a few days.” Alex coughed as if his drink had gone down the wrong way. Mateo frowned. “What?”
Alex tried to contain his amused look. “Nothing. I mean, Bailey seems very nice.”
“But?”
“But nothing, Mateo. I’m only surprised that you’ve opened your home to her. You haven’t done that in a while.”
“You mean since Linda.” Mateo slid his glass onto the side table. “This isn’t the same.”
Alex studied his friend’s face and, inhaling, nodded and changed the subject.
“What’s happening with the vacation?”
“I haven’t made any firm decisions yet.”
“But you’re still going to France, right?”
It was more a statement than a question. His annual pilgrimage to Ville Laube was a duty he never shirked. But, of course, it was more than simply an obligation. He enjoyed catching up with the people who ran the orphanage. Although seeing the children conjured up as many haunted feelings as good. Each year he saw so many new faces as well as those who had lived there for years.
One little boy was a favorite. Remy had turned five last visit. Dark hair and eyes, solemn until you pitched him a ball—any kind. Then his face would light up. He reminded Mateo of himself at that age. Leaving Remy last year had been difficult.
When he returned this year, Mateo hoped that little boy was gone. He hoped he’d found a good family who would love and support him. He wondered what kind of man Remy would grow into. If he would learn from the right influences. Whether he’d always have plenty to eat.
Mateo confirmed, “I’ll go to France.”
“Maybe Bailey would like to go too.”
Mateo all but lost his breath. Then he swore. “You’re not trying to step into Mama Celeca’s matchmaking shoes, I hope.”
“Just an idea. You seem … interested.”
“You saw us together for less than a minute.”
“It was all the time I needed to see that you think she’s different.”
“Hold on.” Mateo got to his feet. “Just because you’ve found the one, doesn’t mean I need to be pushed down any aisle.”
“Maybe it’d make a difference if you didn’t fight it quite so hard?”
“Fight what?”
Both men’s attention flew in the direction of that third voice. Natalie stood in the living room doorway. While Mateo withered—was Bailey a step behind, within earshot?—Alex pushed to his feet and crossed to his wife.
“Nothing, honey,” he said, stealing a quick kiss. “Is the baby okay? How’s Bailey?”
“Judge for yourselves.”
When a stylish woman, wearing an exquisite pink cocktail number and glittering diamond drop earrings, slid into the room, Mateo did a double take then all but fell back into his seat.
Bailey?
While the bikini-girl turned glamour-queen crossed the room, looking as if she’d worn Chanel all her life, Natalie clasped her hands under her chin and exclaimed, “Isn’t she gorgeous?”
Mateo knew he was smiling. He wanted to agree. Unfortunately he was too stunned—too delighted—to find his voice.
“The first time Mateo and I came to this place, we were twenty-two,” Alex explained as a uniformed Maxim’s waiter showed the foursome to a table next to the dance floor.
“Twenty-three,” Mateo amended, his hand a touch away from Bailey’s elbow as they navigated tables of patrons enjoying their meals and tasteful atmosphere, including tinkling background music. “You’d just had a cast off your arm after a spill on your skateboard.”
“You rode a skateboard at twenty-three?” Natalie laughed as she lowered into a chair the waiter had pulled out for her.
Alex ran a finger and thumb down his tie. “And very well, might I add.”
While the waiter draped linen napkins over laps, Bailey tried to contain the nerves jitterbugging in her belly. She’d dined at similar establishments, although not since her mother had died. In the old days her family had enjoyed dinner out at least once a week, but never to this particular restaurant. Wearing this glamorous dress and these dazzling earrings, not to mention the fabulous silver heels, she felt as if a magic wand had been waved and she’d emerged from her baby throw-up moment as a returned modern-day princess. For a day that had started out horrendously, she was feeling pretty fine now. Not even tired. Although catch-up jet lag would probably hit when she least expected it.
Until then she’d lap up what promised to be a wonderful night.
Some people you couldn’t help but like. Natalie and Alex were that kind of folk. And Mateo … she’d wondered what he’d be like in friends’ company. His smile was broader. His laugh, deeper. And when his gaze caught hers, the interested approval in his heavy-lidded eyes left her feeling surreal and believing that tonight they might have met for the first time.
“I must confess,” Natalie said, casting an eye over the menu. “I love not having to think about the dishes.”
“I help with that,” Alex pointed out, teasing.
“And I love you for it.” Natalie snatched a kiss from her husband’s cheek then found Bailey’s gaze. “Do you like to cook?”
“I’m no expert. But I would like to learn how to prepare meals the way they do in Italy.” The dishes she’d enjoyed there had been so incredibly tasty and wholesome.
Natalie tipped her head toward Mateo. “You know your date’s a bit of a chef?”
Her date?
Hoping no one noticed her blush, Bailey merely replied, “Really?”
“We go over for dinner at least every month,” Natalie added.
Mateo qualified, “Nothing fancy. Just a way of remembering home.”
“His crepes are mouth-watering,” Natalie confided.
Bailey thought for a moment. “Aren’t crepes French?”
“Mateo spent his first years there.” As soon as the words were out, Natalie’s expression dropped. “That probably wasn’t my place to say.”
While Mateo waved it off, Bailey puzzled over what the drama with France could be. He must have seen her curiosity.
“I lived in an orphanage the first six years of my life.”
All the air left Bailey’s lungs as images of dank, dark corridors and rickety cots with children who lacked love’s warm touch swam up in her mind. She couldn’t imagine it, particularly not for Mateo Celeca. Her lips moved a few times before she got out a single, “Oh.”
“It wasn’t so bad,” Mateo said, obviously reading her expression. “The people who ran it were kind. We had what we needed.”
“Mateo sponsors the orphanage now,” Alex chipped in as, wine menu in hand, he beckoned a waiter.
Bailey sat back. Of course. Yesterday Mateo had mentioned he was a benefactor. She hadn’t thought beyond the notion that any donations would be the act of someone who had the means to make a difference to others’ lives. She hadn’t stopped to think his work in France might be more personal. That he was paying homage to a darker past and wanted to help those who were in the same underprivileged position he’d once been.
“It’s difficult for them to find funds,” Mateo was saying, pouring more water. “A small bit goes a long way.”
“You’re too modest,” Alex said.
Natalie added, “Wouldn’t surprise me if one day you come back with someone who needs a good home.”
“I’m hardly in a position.”
Mateo’s reply sounded unaffected. But Bailey detected a certain faraway gleam in his eye. Would Mateo consider adopting if he were in the position? If he were married?
She tried to focus on Natalie’s words … something about looking forward to dessert. But, as much as she tried, Bailey couldn’t shake the vision of Mateo playing with a child of his own with a faceless Mrs. Celeca smiling and gazing on. Not her, of course. She wasn’t after a husband—or certainly not this soon after her recent hairy experience. One day she wanted to be part of a loving couple—like Natalie and Alex—but right now she was more than happy to be free.
Did Mateo feel the same way? Natalie wondered, stealing a glance at the doctor from beneath her lashes. Or could Mama’s perennial bachelor be on the lookout for a suitable wife slash mother for an adopted child?
Finishing dessert, a moist, scrumptious red velvet cake, Bailey gave a soft cry when some chocolate sauce slipped from her spoon and caught the bodice of her dress. She slid a fingertip over the spot to scoop up the drop, which only smeared the sauce. Bailey didn’t wear these kinds of labels, but she knew something about the price tags. Often they cost more than her airfare home.
With dread filling her stomach, Bailey turned to Natalie. “I’ll pay to have it dry-cleaned.”
But Natalie wasn’t troubled.
“Keep the dress, if you want. It’s too snug on me after the baby anyway. In fact, there’s a heap of things you could take off my hands, if you’d like.”
Eyes down, Bailey dabbed the spot with her napkin. She was grateful for the offer but also embarrassed. Over dinner, they’d discussed her travels and lightly touched on the Emilio affair. Mention had been made of Mateo’s suggestion she stay a couple of days as well as Natalie’s proposal of work. Now the offer of a designer wardrobe.
She was beginning to feel as if she constantly had her hand out.
Bailey set aside the napkin. “That’s very kind, Natalie. But you don’t need to do that.”
“Chances are I won’t wear them again. Some mothers are eager to get back their pre-baby bodies but I quite like the fuller me.”
“Hear, hear,” her husband cooed close to her ear. “Now if you’ve finished dessert, what say we dance? Just you and me.”
Natalie laughed. “Oh, you love when the three of us dance together in the living room.”
“Of course.” Alex kissed her hand and found his feet. “But this moment I’m happy to have only you in my arms.”
As they headed for the dance floor, Bailey sighed.
“You’re right. They’re a magic couple. Have they been together long? The way they look at each other, anyone would guess they’d fallen in love yesterday.”
“They’ve been together a couple of years.”
“I thought they might have been school sweethearts,” she said, watching them slow dance to the soft strains of a love song drifting through the room while misty beams played over their heads.
“Natalie grew up in far different circumstances than she enjoys now. Very humble beginnings.”
Bailey was taken aback. “She looks as if she might’ve been born into royalty.”
“Tonight, so do you.”
Bailey’s breath caught high in her chest. Was he merely being polite or was the compliment meant to have the reaction it did? Suddenly she didn’t know where to look. What to say. But her mother had said to always take a compliment graciously. So, gathering herself, she lifted her eyes to his and smiled. “Thank you.”
Her heart was thumping too loudly to maintain that eye contact, however, so she found Alex and Natalie on the dance floor. Natalie was laughing at something her husband had said while Alex gazed down at his wife adoringly. They radiated wedded bliss.
“It was a good day,” Mateo said.
“Which day?”
“The day I helped bring their son into the world.”
Elbow on the table, Bailey rested her chin in the cup of her hand. “I bet you had everything prepared and everyone on their toes.”
“Quite the opposite. When she went into labor, we were at Alex’s beachside holiday house. It happened quickly.” He peered over toward the couple. Natalie’s cheek was resting on Alex’s shoulder now. “She’d miscarried years before. Alex was concerned for mother and child both.”
“But nothing went wrong?”
Mateo smiled across. “You saw Reece tonight.”
Bailey relaxed. “Perfect.”
“Alex had always longed for a son.”
“I suppose most men do,” she said, wondering if she’d get a reaction.
“Most men … yes.” Then, as if to put an end to that conversation, he stood and held out his hand. “Would you care to dance?”
Bailey’s throat closed. Perhaps she should have seen that coming but she was at a loss for words. Mateo looked so tall and heart-stoppingly handsome, gazing down at her with those dark, penetrating eyes. Eyes that constantly intrigued her. She wanted to accept his offer. Wanted the opportunity to know the answer to her earlier question—how it would feel to have his arms surround her. Here, in this largely neutral, populated setting, she could find out.
She placed her hand in his. That telling warmth rose again, tingling over her flesh, heating her cheeks and her neck. His eyes seemed to smile into hers as she found her feet and together they moved to the dance floor, occupied by other couples, some absorbed more in the song than their partner, others locked in each other’s arms and ardent gazes.
Bailey couldn’t stop her heart from hammering as Mateo turned and rested a hot palm low on her back while bringing their still-clasped hands to his lapel. Concentrating to level her breathing, she slid and rested her left hand over the broad slope of his shoulder at the same time the tune segued into an even slower, more romantic song and the lights dimmed a fraction more.
They began to move and instantly Bailey was gripped by the heat radiating from his body, burrowing into and warming hers. Her senses seemed heightened. She was infinitely aware of his thumb circling over the dip in her back. Her lungs celebrated being filled with his mesmerizing scent. Strangely, all the happenings around them faded into a suddenly bland background. When a corner of his mouth slanted—the corner with that small scar—her pulse rate spiked and her blood began to sizzle. She’d wanted to know. Now she did. Having Mateo’s arms around her—soothing and at the same time exciting her—was like being held by some kind of god.
“So you’ll be working for Natalie’s agency?”
“While I was dressing—make that redressing—Natalie explained they’d lost three cleaners in the past couple of weeks.”
