sympathetic, which he didn’t want. He still didn’t know how he felt about David being dead. His own brother had tried to steal millions of dollars and have him killed. In the process he’d gotten involved with some dangerous people and that had cost him his life.
Betsy stood up and reached for the plate of cookies. “All right. You boys come on with me. You, too, Jenny. We’ll go into my bedroom and watch a movie while Cynthia and Mr. Steele talk about arrangements for Colton’s care.”
She ushered the boys out in front of her, then placed her free arm around Jenny’s slender shoulders. The teenager held the baby as if he were her most precious possession. In her sweatshirt and jeans, she looked like the thirteen-year-old she was, yet her competence with the baby impressed him. He doubted he would ever do as well. Nor did he want to try.
“I’m sorry,” Cynthia said when they were alone. “Jenny speaks without thinking.”
“I’m fine,” he answered honestly. “I hope she’s not too upset.”
“Sometimes Frank’s death still gets to all of us. But Mom is good at distracting the kids.” She hesitated. “I hope you don’t mind that Jenny took Colton in with her. I thought she would feel better if she continued to hold him, but if you’re concerned about her taking care of him-”
He held up his hand to stop her in midsentence. “I might not know anything about babies, but even I can see she knows what she’s doing. In fact if it were in my power, I would be happy to leave him in her capable care until he was eighteen or so.”
Cynthia grinned. “You’ll get over being nervous. In a couple of weeks you won’t be able to remember what it was like without him in your life.”
He doubted that but didn’t see the point in arguing.
She shifted on the sofa, pulling up the afghan and leaning back against the pillows one of the boys had brought her. “I expect Colton and I will be moving in this Friday. What do you want to do about baby furniture and supplies?”
He stared at her blankly. “Whatever you think is best.”
“I figured as much.” She smiled. “I can’t see you having a great time hanging out at the baby store.”
Nor could he. “Are you going to be up to all this?” he asked. “You’re still recovering.”
“I feel fine. I’m ready to get back to work.”
He wasn’t so sure. “Perhaps I should simply start looking for a permanent nanny now and save you the trouble.”
Cynthia’s gaze was steady. “You can start looking whenever you’d like. In fact one of the services I provide is an interview screening process. I’m also happy to be at the interview with you. But finding someone to stay in your house, looking after your child on a long-term basis isn’t all that easy. It usually takes time. I don’t mind filling in.”
But this wasn’t about her, he thought. Even now Cynthia was gazing at him with a look that spoke far more than she realized. She wasn’t looking at him with hero worship-not exactly. It was more… female interest in an available man. And he would be willing to bet his third-quarter earnings that she didn’t have a clue that he could tell what she was thinking.
She reached for her glass of water, but it was a couple of inches out of reach. When she started to move, he waved her back to the sofa.
“I’ll get it,” he said and crossed the room.
When he handed her the glass, he found himself sitting on the edge of the sofa instead of returning to his seat. Cynthia took a drink then put the glass down.
She wore jeans and a green sweatshirt that had faded from too many washings. There wasn’t a speck of makeup on her face. Her shoulder-length blond hair was loose and soft around her face. She looked young and fragile and she’d nearly died because of him.
“I’m sorry about the poisoning,” he said. “I know that’s a stupid thing to say, but I never wanted you to get hurt.”
She drew her knees to her chest. “Don’t be silly. It’s not your fault. It was an accident.”
His hip pressed against hers. He could feel the heat of her through the layers of her clothing and his own. He was close enough to inhale the floral fragrance of soap or shampoo or maybe just the essence of her.
She smiled. “Right up until the bad stuff started happening, I’d been having a really good time. I’d hoped I would meet you. I never thought we’d get to dance.”
“Or that you would drink poison meant for me.”
“Don’t,” she said with a shake of her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does.”
He found himself drawn to her, moving closer, when there wasn’t that much room between them to begin with. She was trouble, he thought. She might look like the last living virgin, but she was more dangerous than any other woman he’d ever known.
“Did you like the dancing, too?” she asked, her voice breathless.
He was close enough to see that her eyes had dilated and that color was moving up her neck and down from her hairline. A blush. Who the hell still blushed?
“I liked the kissing better,” he said honestly.
But before he could press his mouth to hers, there was a sound from a nearby room. He remembered where he was and who had the potential to walk in without warning. He drew back and rose to his feet.
“Coward,” Cynthia said lightly.
“Let’s just say I know about the importance of good timing. And this isn’t it.”
Chapter 5
It was nearly eleven in the morning when Cynthia arrived at Jonathan’s house on Friday. She pulled up in front of the huge three-story home and wondered if her aging but serviceable car was going to faint from shock at being in such impressive surroundings.
The brick facade was both grand and intimidating. A wide porch fronted by pillars stretched out twenty or thirty feet. “We come from different sides of the tracks,” she told the baby gurgling contentedly from his car seat behind her. “You have lots of money in your family tree.”
Colton was not impressed. His blue-eyed gaze settled on her face and he smiled. Then he blew a bubble out of his perfect rosebud mouth.
“You are too cute,” she informed him as she collected her purse, then prepared to walk around to the passenger side of the car. Behind her a large truck rumbled into view. A truck filled with everything a baby could ever want.
While she hadn’t seen Jonathan since the day she’d been released from the hospital, they’d been in touch by phone. Last night he’d called to tell her that he’d arranged for one of the larger baby stores in town to open an hour early this morning so that she could buy whatever Colton might need. He’d already faxed the store a floor plan and the dimensions of the baby’s room to help visualize the space. Cynthia had been impressed with his efficiency.
The store owner had met her and Colton promptly at nine. Jonathan had left the same instruction with both women-there was no spending limit. Cynthia was to get whatever she thought was best.
Cynthia opened the rear passenger door and began unstrapping the baby. “Your uncle trusts my taste, doesn’t he?” she cooed. “I think Uncle Jonathan was terrified I was going to make him come
