“This baby is my only connection to my sister.”

Jordan continued. “I want to be part of his life, and I want him to be a part of mine.”

“But you spend most of your time abroad!”

“No problem. I’d hire a nanny to care for him while I’m out of the country.”

“A nanny?” Mallory’s expression was outraged. “You’d leave Matthew with a stranger? No way! I’ll fight you in court if—”

“The other option,” Jordan interjected smoothly, “would be for the two of us to share custody….”

Grace Green grew up in Scotland but later immigrated to Canada with her husband and children. They settled in “Beautiful Super Natural B.C.” and Grace now lives in a house just minutes from ocean, beaches, mountains and rain forest. She makes no secret of her favorite occupation—her bumper sticker reads I’d Rather Be Writing Romance! Grace also enjoys walking the seawall, gardening, getting together with other authors…and watching her characters come to life, because she knows that once they do, they will take over and write her stories for her.

Books by Grace Green

HARLEQUIN ROMANCE®

3526—THE WEDDING PROMISE

3542—BRANNIGAN’S BABY

3586—NEW YEAR…NEW FAMILY

The Baby Project

Grace Green

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For John

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER ONE

“JORDAN CAINE is a cad!”

“Oh, he is, Angelina!” Outrage sparked in Monique’s faded blue eyes. “Leaving our dear sweet Mallory to cope on her own all these months without so much as a postcard.”

“Well, the man does appear to be an adventurer.” Eighty-year-old Emily looked anxiously at the other two over her half glasses. “But sisters, we’ve never even met Mr. Caine. Shouldn’t we give him the benefit of the doubt?”

Angelina sighed. “Emily, you can be very trying. Any man who has behaved as badly as he has doesn’t deserve—”

The front doorbell chimed, making them all start. They looked at each other meaningfully, and then with one accord set their bedtime mugs of hot milk on the coffee table.

“She’s here,” whispered Emily. “Let us have no more talk of Jordan Caine.”

All three cocked their heads and listened.

From their cosy nook in the sitting room, they heard brisk footsteps cross the hall. Then they heard the front door opening and Elsa, their landlady, say warmly, “Mallory, come away in. How was your trip? It’s almost midnight! I was beginning to worry about you.”

“I’m so sorry, Elsa. My last day of work, and so many loose ends to tidy…and then the staff surprised me with a Goodbye party and there was no way I could disappoint…”

The voices faded.

After several minutes, during which time the sisters sat tensely without talking, they heard steps approaching. Catching their breath, they turned towards the door and waited.

The door opened.

When Mallory appeared in the doorway, they sighed with pleasure at the sight of her. She looked lovely as always, in a short-skirted black suit, with an ivory shirt and stylish black pumps. Her face was pale and her features strained, but her genuine smile brought her dusky brown eyes to life.

“Hi, ladies,” she said. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

Not for the world would they have told her they had waited up to make sure she arrived safely.

“Just finishing our hot milk,” Angelina murmured.

“I’m going along to Number Five now.” Mallory raised both hands and shoved back her unruly auburn locks. “But I hope you’ll drop by and visit tomorrow.”

“Everything’s settled?” Monique asked.

“Everything’s settled.”

“So,” Emily’s tone was awed, “you’ve burned your boats.”

“Burned my boats and my bridges and everything else.” Mallory’s wry smile brought a dimple to her right cheek. “From now on, the only way to go is forward.”

“Good luck, dear,” they chorused.

“Thank you. I’m going to need it!”

With a little wave, she closed the door and walked back into the hallway.

Elsa was waiting for her, with the baby in her arms.

“He’s teething,” Elsa said as she carefully handed over the infant. “He was cranky earlier, but he’s settled now.”

Mallory felt her heart melt with love as she looked down at the sleeping child. Tenderly she ran a finger over his flushed cheeks. “Poor mite.”

“I was along at Number Five earlier and aired out all the bedding. Just pop him in his crib and with a bit of luck he’ll sleep through till morning.”

“I hope so.” Mallory stifled a huge yawn. “I’ll be out like a light myself as soon as my head hits the pillow.”

Jordan Caine slammed the door of his scarlet Lexus, slung his leather travel bag over his shoulder, and strode purposefully up the drive to Number Five Seaside Lane.

The rambling old house was beautifully silvered by moonlight, but he paid little attention to it or any of his other surroundings. This place didn’t interest him. If there was one thing he hated, it was small-town living. He planned to sleep in the house tonight; put it on the market tomorrow; and be on his way again by lunch-time…shaking the beach sand of this sea-salty little Washington resort from his size eleven boots before it had time to stick.

Sliding his key into the lock, he opened the front door and stepped inside. Moonlight streamed down through the skylight above the staircase, and in its bone-white wash, he saw that the roomy hallway was very sparsely furnished.

The only other time he’d been in this house it had been empty. As he’d discussed terms with the Seashore realtor, his voice had echoed back from the bare walls. Apart from a few sticks of furniture the house seemed just as empty now—

A creaking sound came from his left. He spun around as sharply as if it had been a gunshot.

Then frustrated by his hair-trigger reaction, he swore. He hadn’t realized his nerves were still so badly on edge….

The sound had come from the downstairs bedroom. He crossed the hall, turned the doorknob with a stealthy hand, and warily pushed the door inwards.

A low-wattage bedside lamp cast a pool of light over the empty bed, leaving most of the room in shadow—

His heart gave an erratic lurch when he saw that someone—a woman—was slumped in a rocking chair by the bed.

She was asleep; he could hear her regular breathing.

Her face was in shadow but he could see that she had a luxuriant tumble of long curly hair. She was wearing a light shirt with a dark suit; the jacket lay untidily open, the skirt had ridden halfway up her thighs. Her legs—long fantastic legs—were stretched out before her and a pair of high-heeled pumps lay askew on the carpet.

She shifted position and her head lolled sideways, towards the light, giving him a clear view of her face.

His first thought was: “Wow, what a stunner!”

His second thought was a shocked and furious: “It’s that Madison woman!”

What the hell was she doing here? Clenching his hands into fists, he glared at her. He felt an overwhelming urge to grab her by the shoulders, shake her from her sleep, and demand that she explain what she was doing in his house.

His scowl deepened as his gaze flicked to the framed photograph sitting on the bedside table. He recognized it as one of the pictures taken on his sister’s wedding day.

Even as grief tore at him afresh, he felt the old anger rise to block it out. He wanted to smash the picture against the wall—the picture of his sister Janine and that man, looking besottedly at each other. To their right, Mallory Madison, maid of honour, her eyes bright with joy. To their left, Jordan Caine, best man, his happy expression an utter travesty. He’d put on an Oscar-calibre performance that day, in order not to spoil his sister’s wedding.

A wedding that would never have taken place if Mallory Madison hadn’t given the couple her full support, over his own strenuous objections to the marriage.

For that, he would never forgive her.

But it would be a huge mistake to waken her now and confront her—after his recent harrowing ordeal, his emotions were far too volatile. Better to wait till he’d had a good night’s sleep and was more in control of himself.

After giving her one last black glower, he left the room and made his way wearily up the stairs.

There were four bedrooms on this level, and when he opened the door to the first, he found it was furnished with a single bed and a small dresser. The room was obviously not currently in use—it was bare of personal items and the air was stale. He would make it his. Just for the night.

Tossing down his travel bag, he crossed impatiently to the window and pushed it open. Outside, moonlight spangled the jet-black ocean; stars winked down from an indigo sky. And summer scents swept in on the ocean breeze, invoking a poignancy that caught him unawares and made his throat ache.

Irritably, he tugged the curtains shut. And turning away, he crossed to the bed. Stripping to his jeans, he crashed on top of the covers. And within seconds, he was fast asleep.

Mallory awoke at dawn.

And she realized, to her dismay, that she had fallen asleep in the rocking chair, where she’d sat down for a moment after she’d settled Matthew in his crib. She must have been even more exhausted than she’d thought!

Getting up, she stretched to iron out the kinks in her muscles, and then, with an anticipatory smile, she tiptoed over to the crib in the far corner of the room.

Matthew was still asleep. And as always, her heart turned to mush when she looked at the nine-month-old baby. She couldn’t have loved him more if he’d been her own…

And once Jordan Caine had relinquished any claim to the child—as he undoubtedly would, since he’d shown no interest in him till this date—she could legally make him her own.

The problem was she hadn’t the faintest idea where the man was—all her efforts to contact him had been in vain. She hadn’t spoken to him for months—not since the day his sister and Tom had died in a train crash and she’d called to tell him. She knew, of course, how he felt about Tom but she’d believed he truly cared for Janine and she found it unforgivable that he hadn’t come home for her funeral.

The thought lingered sourly as she padded through to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. But as she looked around the big homey room and pictured her new life at Number Five with Matthew, her spirits rose again.

Humming under her breath, she slipped off her rumpled suit jacket and slung it over the back of Matthew’s high chair. While she waited for the coffee to drip, she cut two slices of whole-wheat bread and popped them in the toaster.

Still humming, she pulled back the yellow-and-white gingham curtains. But as she did, two things impinged on her senses and froze the breath in her throat:

She saw a racy scarlet Lexus sitting in the drive…

And she heard a floorboard squeak behind her.

She whirled around. And shock slammed through her when she saw a dark-bearded stranger looming in the kitchen doorway. His hair was black and shaggy; his hands were fisted; and his gray eyes were fixed on her with a ferocious intensity that could only mean murder.

She lunged for the bread knife and clutching the handle with both hands, held it out in front of her, the tip of the razor-sharp blade pointed directly at him.

“I don’t know who you are,” she said in a shrill voice. “And I don’t know what you want, but get out! Right now!”

The stranger raised a cynical eyebrow. “Why, Mallory, dear!” Sarcasm reverberated in his husky baritone voice. “Is that any way to greet your brother-inlaw?”

“Brother-in-law?” The knife trembled in her fingers. “What are you talking about? I don’t have a—”

“Strictly speaking, no. But since your brother was married to my sister, I guess that’s the closest I can come to describing our…relationship.”

Mallory struggled to catch her breath. She gawked disbelievingly, trying to verify his claim, trying to recognize the man behind the black stubbled beard.

She’d met Janine’s brother only once, on the day of the wedding, but then he’d been clean-shaven and elegant and—she’d had to admit it—devastatingly attractive in a black tux. He’d looked like a movie star. This man was scruffy and edgy and wearing nothing but an old pair of blue jeans. He looked like a prisoner on the run.

The man she remembered had been tall and solidly built. This man was tall, but he didn’t have a spare ounce of flesh on his darkly tanned body. He was lean and hard and—

“Oh, it’s me,” he drawled. “Or are you staring because you get your jollies out of looking at a man’s half-naked torso?”

She wrenched her gaze from his powerfully muscled chest and opened her mouth to let fly with a scathing retort, only to have the angry words dry up in her throat. He’d raked back his hair, revealing an inch-long white scar on his forehead. A scar she recognized.

This was indeed Jordan Caine. As she assimilated the fact, she felt faint with relief. For months she’d tried desperately to get in touch with this man so she could put her plans in motion. Now—oh, joy!—he was here.

Controlling a rush of euphoria, she set the knife on the counter. “How did you get into the house?”

“I have a key. Which was just as well—I doubt you’d have heard me if I’d rung the bell, you were out like a light. By the way, you’ll be glad to know you don’t snore.”

She stared at him. “What? How do you know—”

“I arrived in the early hours but before I went upstairs I heard a movement in that bedroom so I checked it out. You were sound asleep in a creaky old rocking chair.”

“You mean…you slept here?”

“Of course.”

Her mind boggled at the absolute gall of the man—walking into the house like that, as if he owned it! With an effort, she held onto her temper. “What do you want?”

“Right now,” he said with a mocking smile, “what I want is coffee. Did you happen to make enough for—”

The toast popped up and to her astonishment, he whirled towards the sound, his body taut. The spring-loaded reaction made her blink. She’d sensed the man was on edge but this was ridiculous. Curiosity burned inside her—

But when he turned to her again, his eyes had a diamond-hard glitter. A warning glitter. Mind your own business. He didn’t say the words; he didn’t need to.

She swallowed back her half-formed questions. “I didn’t make enough coffee for two, but help yourself. I’ll put on another pot when I’ve had my shower.”

“And we’ll talk. You have a bit of explaining to do.”

“I have a bit of explaining to do?” She glowered at him. “You’ve got to be kidding! You’re the one who—”

“Could you pass me a mug?”

Lips compressed, she reached into the cupboard. He stepped over and held out his hand. As he took the mug, she caught a hint of his musky male scent. It was earthy as a dark forest, erotic as an intimate caress. She felt an unfamiliar tingling sensation deep down inside her…a sensation that was as unsettling as it was unwelcome.

She drew back sharply, but not before she’d seen his mouth slant in a knowing smile.

“I guess,” he murmured maliciously as he poured his coffee, “you’re not used to having a half-naked male around in the morning. Sorry if I’m disturbing you—”

“On the contrary,” she retorted with a haughty tilt of her chin, “I’m quite used to having a half-naked male around in the morning—and not only in the kitchen, but in my bed!”

She whirled away from him and stalked out of the kitchen, her cheeks burning. But even as she hurried to the bedroom, she heard his mocking laughter follow her.

The sooner she got rid of him the better, she decided angrily—though she must be careful not to antagonize him. He could so easily put obstacles in the way of her becoming Matthew’s legal guardian, and that was to be avoided at all costs. No, on the surface she’d have to be nice to Jordan Caine. It would be a very small price to pay in the end.

She closed the bedroom door and tiptoed over to check on Matthew. He was still asleep, thank goodness. She hoped he wouldn’t waken till after she and his uncle had had their talk. She didn’t want to be distracted during what was going to be the most important conversation of her life.

“Right, let’s have that talk.” Jordan leaned back against the countertop, watching Ms. Madison through narrowed eyes as she made a fresh pot of coffee. Earlier, touslehaired and terrified, with yesterday’s lipstick and mascara smudged—and with a scalpel-sharp bread knife pointed directly at his heart!—she’d looked sexy as hell. Now, in a demure green T-shirt and perky shorts, with her hair neatly scooped up in a topknot and her face scrubbed clean, she looked even sexier. Too bad she was a redhead; the situation could have been interesting. “For starters, what are you doing here?”

“That’s exactly what I was going to ask you.” Taking toast from the toaster, she crossed to the table. “But okay, I’ll go first. I’ve moved in. As of last night.”

He did a double take. “Moved in?”

She buttered the toast. “I plan on living here.” She reached for the marmalade. “For the foreseeable future.”

“In this house? Are we talking about the same place? Number Five Seaside Lane?”

She turned to him, her brown eyes faintly surprised. “Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”

He paused for a moment, and then faking an encouraging tone that set his teeth on edge, he said, “Tell me more about these plans of yours. As I recall, you had a job in Seattle…?”

His nonthreatening manner had its desired effect; he could see her relax, could see he’d put her off-guard.

“That’s right,” she said. And added impulsively, “I have to admit that the last several months haven’t been easy. I’ve driven here every Friday after work, gone back to Seattle every Sunday night. It’s been awful, not being with Matthew through the week. I’ve missed him so much—but now we can be together all the time and I’m so happy about that. You’ll get to meet him in a minute,” she added with a smile. “He’s still asleep, but he should be wakening soon.”

She’d brought a lover here? Jordan stared at her incredulously. “He slept in this house last night?”

“Mmm.”

“He wasn’t in your bed!”

“I don’t let him into my bed every night—only when he’s whiny.”

“Whiny?” Good grief, what kind of a wimp was the guy!

“Look, I’m not expecting you to get involved with him. In fact, I’m assuming you won’t want to and I’d actually prefer that you didn’t. But it would be nice if you could send him a postcard once in a while when you’re abroad—”

“Are you out of your mind? I want nothing to do with him. I don’t even want to see him!”

His vehemence obviously jolted her; but at the same time he saw an expression of relief in her eyes.

“Then that will make everything easier for me,” she said. “I was afraid that if you once held him in your arms you might fall in love with him and want him for yourself.”

“What the hell do you—”

“I’m sorry, but try to see it from my point of view. I’ve been trying to contact you for months so we could straighten everything out but when I didn’t hear from you, I decided to forge on with my own plans on the assumption that you wanted nothing to do with the situation. You can’t blame me, since you didn’t even bother to come home for the funeral! And since you told me at the wedding that you’d never forgive me for supporting Tom and Janine when they wanted to marry, I figured I’d never see you again.”

“My sister was barely eighteen,” he snapped. “Your brother got her pregnant when she was little more than a child herself. He was twenty-four, and took advantage of a girl who was immature and—”

“They married because they were in love.”

“There’s no point in discussing this now. It’s water under the bridge. But you’re right about one thing. I’ll never forgive you for the part you played—”

“I don’t want your forgiveness. Nor do I need it. As for Tom, you never did understand him. You didn’t take the time to get to know him and if you had, you’d have learned what a fine and decent man he was.”

“No decent man would have—” He sliced his hand down in a dismissive gesture. “We’re only rehashing what we said on their wedding day. Let’s get back on track. Tell me about these plans of yours…to live in this house.”

Before answering, she poured her coffee and set the yellow ceramic mug on the table. When she spoke, it was quietly.

“Tom and Janine had signed the lease for a year and on their death it still had several months to run so I took over the payments. The lease came up for renewal last month and I signed the contract for another year at the same rate.” She toyed abstractedly with her thin gold necklace. “It’s a beautiful house, I can’t imagine why the owner lets it out so cheaply. I asked the woman at the Realty Management company but she didn’t know. All she could tell me was that the arrangements had been made through the owner’s lawyer.”

“Well, that all sounds fine and dandy.” Jordan’s lips thinned. “But ‘there’s many a slip ’twixt the cup and the lip’! And I see one little obstacle in your way.”

A frown crinkled her creamy skin into a neat little V between her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“Sit down,” he said, “and drink your coffee before it gets cold. I’m going up to have my shower. When I come back down again…I have something to tell you.”

Mallory stared after him as he left the kitchen. What on earth did he mean: an obstacle? It had sounded ominous, yet she had everything under control…didn’t she? The house was hers for at least the next eleven months, and Matthew would be hers forever—his uncle had made it more than plain that he had no interest in the child.

She sat down and drank her coffee. She usually loved that first kick of it the morning, but today it had no effect.

She couldn’t shake a dreadful feeling of foreboding.

She was still trying, without success, to figure out what Jordan Caine could possibly be going to tell her, when she heard the sound of a vehicle chugging up the drive.

Getting up, she looked out the window, over the garden fence, and saw a truck parking behind the Lexus. On the panel, it said AB Movers, the company she’d hired to cart her belongings from Seattle.

Well, at least, she reflected dryly as she hurried to open the front door, something was going according to plan!

CHAPTER TWO

JORDAN HALTED abruptly on the landing. When he’d come upstairs earlier, the front hall had been empty except for a D-shaped phone table and a spindly chair beside it. Now it was crammed with boxes and furniture and all sorts of other paraphernalia…and in the midst of the chaos stood Mallory.

“What the devil’s going on?” he called down.

She looked up. “My things have arrived from Seattle.”

Her things? Dammit, this was an added complication and one he didn’t need. He fought to contain his intense frustration as he glowered at the cardboard boxes…and the several bookcases, the chairs, the pine desk…an oil painting, a dozen potted plants, a set of wicker furniture—

Two men in beige overalls appeared in the doorway, their name tags proclaiming them to be Archie and Rock. Archie and Rock were carrying a teal-blue sofa.

“Where do you want this, miss?” asked Archie.

“In there, please.” Mallory indicated the sitting room, to her right.

As the men hefted the sofa into the room, Jordan pounded down the stairs.

“Mallory—”

She turned to him, and he saw that her cheeks were flushed, her forehead moist. “I know you want to talk to me.” She shoved back a clump of auburn hair that had tumbled from her topknot. “But it’ll have to wait till the men have finished—”

“Get rid of it.”

“I beg your pardon?”

He waved a hand around the hall. “This stuff can’t stay here. Tell the men to take it away.”

She looked at him as if he were speaking in tongues. “Would you please go through to the kitchen while I see to this?” Rolling her eyes, she turned her back on him. “Whatever it is you want to talk about will have to wait.”

He grasped her shoulders and spun her around again. “This is what I want to talk about. You can’t stay here. Tell these men to take your things and pack them back in their truck and—”

“Sorry, mister, no can do.” Rock and Archie had come out of the sitting room. Rock handed Mallory a triplicated form. “You’ve checked the number of pieces?”

She nodded.

“Then sign here and we’ll be on our way.”

Impatiently, Jordan said, “I’m telling you, Mallory, I don’t want you living here any more. You can’t—”

Ignoring him, she signed the form.

As Rock ripped off her copy and gave it to her, he grinned at Jordan. “Don’t want her to move back in, buddy? You’re making a big mistake.” He ran an appreciative gaze over Mallory and winked. “This one’s a keeper, mate!”

Sidestepping the boxes, the two men left, leaving the front door wide open behind them.

Jordan looked exasperatedly at Mallory. “You’re going to have to get this stuff out of here—”

“And you’re beginning to sound like a broken record.” Anger made her eyes tawny as a tiger’s. “I told you, I’ve rented this house for the next year and—” She broke off with a “Tsk!” as a rattling noise came from her bedroom.

“That’s Matthew,” she said. “He’s awake—and no wonder, with all the fuss you’ve been making!” She brushed past him. “But you may as well come and meet him now. He’s at his best, first thing in the morning.”

“I’ve told you,” Jordan said grimly, “I don’t want to meet him. What I want is for the two of you to get out of this house right away—”

But she had disappeared into the bedroom.

And next thing, he heard her say in a tender voice, “So you’re awake, are you, sweetheart?” A chuckle. Then, “Oh, Matthew, get your fingers out of my hair…!” A second’s silence, followed by the unmistakable sound of a kiss.

He needed this situation like he needed a hole in his head! Gritting his teeth, Jordan rounded a wicker chair—cursing as he tripped over a vacuum cleaner—and stormed out through the front door. Then with resentment exuding from every pore, he strode down the drive, across the deserted street, and over the salt grass to the beach.

Three miles to the south jutted a rugged cape, with an inn nestled in its sheltering embrace. To the north, the small town followed the curve of the beach to a marina, where he could see yachts bobbing alongside narrow jetties.

He paused for a second, and then headed north.

The realtor’s office was on the town’s main street. He’d walk there now and list the house. That way, when he talked with Ms. Madison again, it would be a fait accompli. The moment the place sold, her lease would automatically be nullified. And it should sell fast, because he would ask a reasonable price. He didn’t need the money. What he needed was to get that woman out of his life, once and for all.

“He’s been gone a couple of hours, Elsa.” Mallory grimaced as she glanced out the sitting room window. “But I can see him coming back now—along the beach. Don’t forget to tell the sisters not to come around today. I’ll give them a call when things settle down.”

“Why has he come to Seashore?” Elsa’s voice came worriedly over the phone line. “He never visited while Janine was alive. Do you think he wants Matthew?”

“Oh, no. He’s made it plain he wants nothing to do with him.”

“Well, that’s good!”

“Mmm.” Mallory rubbed a hand over her nape. “But I feel uneasy. He’s been acting so strangely. Why would he think he had the right to order me to send my stuff back?”

“In my humble opinion, the man’s a control freak. Look how he tried to run Janine’s life! Now she’s gone, he wants to run yours too. But I recall Janine saying her brother hated small towns, so I don’t imagine he’ll hang around.”

Mallory’s nerves tightened as she watched Jordan cross the street, his lean energetic frame set off to perfection in a white T-shirt and taupe shorts. His beard gave him a rakish appearance and as she took in his black hair and rugged features, she had to admit he was an eye-catching sight. But he certainly was not her type! She liked men who were kind and compassionate; strong yet tender—

“Mallory?” Elsa’s voice broke into her musings. “Are you still there?”

“Mm? Oh…yes, Elsa, but I have to go now.”

“Good luck, dear. Let me know what happens.”

Mallory put down the phone and turning from the window, she scooped up Matthew, who was on his stomach, worming his way over the carpet. Slipping his blue T-shirt into his pants, she tucked him into the crook of one arm.

“You’re the most beautiful baby in the world.” She kissed his brow and inhaled the sweet scent of his skin. “And I want you to be a good boy when you meet your uncle. I know he doesn’t want to see you, but it wouldn’t be right to let him leave town without at least saying hello. He’s a bit of an ogre. Do you think you’re up to it?”

“Goo,” he gurgled. And tried to reach her topknot.

She laughed softly and arched her head back. “Oh, you just love to get your fingers into my hair, don’t you!” As she spoke, she heard steps crunching up the drive. And her pulse quickened when she heard Jordan come into the house.

“Mallory!” His deep voice reverberated from the front hall. The voice of a drill sergeant! “Where are you?”

With a fingertip, she tidied a wisp of Matthew’s hair. “Okay, sweetie,” she whispered, “let’s get this over with.”

Bracing herself, she walked out to the hall.

Jordan Caine was standing amid her belongings, with his back to her.

“I’m here,” she said.

As he turned, he held out a long white envelope. “I want you to read this—” He broke off when he saw the baby, and his brow lowered in a dark frown. “What’s going on?”

“I know you don’t want anything to do with Matthew, but it’s not going to kill you to say hi!”

Jordan stared at the baby wriggling in her arms, the infant’s gaze glued to her topknot as he endeavoured to reach it. This was Matthew? Well, he’d really screwed up there, hadn’t he! But it surprised him to see the delectable Ms. Madison with a child. She certainly hadn’t looked pregnant at her brother’s wedding…

He recalled Janine telling him that Tom’s sister was thirty-one and single. And he recalled saying irately to Janine, when she told him that unlike him, Mallory was enthusiastic about the upcoming marriage, “Tell that dried-up old spinster to butt out of our lives!”

That was before he’d met her, of course, and when he did meet her, on the wedding day, he’d found out that far from being dried-up, she was lush as a ripe exotic fruit. But not, definitely not, his type. He felt about redheads the way he felt about small towns…and about babies!

“I know this must be upsetting for you.” Mallory’s voice was apologetic. “I’m sorry. And I know how against the marriage you were, but Janine loved you so much, and I know she’d have wanted you to love this baby too.”

“Why the heck would Janine care if I loved this kid or not? Look, read my lips. I don’t like babies. And I have no interest in this one or any other. So if you’ll just put him back in his crib or whatever, then you and I can get on with business. This—” he waggled the white envelope at her “—is a contract I’ve just signed with Burton Barton, the local realtor. I’ve put the house up for sale.”

“House? Which house?”

“This house.”

“This house?”

“Number Five Seaside Lane. It’s mine.”

She couldn’t have looked more stunned if he’d told her he’d planted a bomb in the basement. “It can’t be yours!”

He felt a pang of compunction when he saw the panic in her eyes. He ignored it. “I bought it before the wedding, when I knew you’d beaten me and that come hell or high water those two were going to tie the knot—”

“It wasn’t a case of beating you! It wasn’t a competition, to see who would win—I just wanted what was best for Tom and Janine—”

“All the arrangements were made through my lawyer,” he continued tersely. “I knew your brother had taken a job in Seashore and I knew they were having a hard time finding a rental place they could afford so I bought this house and made sure they learned it was available—and for a minimal rent, because I wanted my sister to live comfortably.”

“Did they know,” she asked, “that it was yours?”

“No.”

“You did that for them?” This secret, generous gesture put him in a new light. Mallory felt herself soften towards him. “That was so kind of you—”

“I did it for Janine,” he interrupted rudely. “I no longer have any need of the place. End of story.”

Her momentary softness dissipated in a flash. “I’ve signed a one-year lease,” she said in a defiant tone. “So you can’t evict me. At least, not till the year is up.”

“I can,” he said. “And I intend to. The moment the property changes hands, your lease becomes null and void.”

She seemed to shrink back from him. Then she shook her head and her upper lip curled. Unmistakably, contemptuously curled. “You’re quite something, Jordan Caine.”

He hadn’t known that tawny brown eyes could look so cold. “It’s business,” he said curtly. “And there’s no room for sentiment in business.”

“Tom was wrong about you. He believed that despite your overbearing attitude, you were a good man at heart. I’m glad he’s not here to see that you have no heart at all.” She clenched her jaw as she prepared to humble herself. “Can you at least let me keep the house for the summer, to give me time to look for someplace else?”

“No can do. It’s May already and Barton’s going to advertise Number Five as an ideal house for a bed-and-breakfast business, so it will be to a buyer’s advantage to move in immediately, before the start of the tourist season.”

“You’d throw me out in the street—with this baby?” She took in a deep breath and when she went on, her voice had a distinct tremor in it. “I gave up my job in Seattle so that I could work at home and be a good mother to Matthew. I’m on a very tight budget now. I’d never have been able to swing it if I hadn’t been able to factor in the low rent.”

“That’s not my problem. Before you got yourself pregnant, you should have looked to the future. Where’s the baby’s father? Doesn’t he contribute to his upkeep?”

She gaped at him as if he’d sprouted an extra head.

He stabbed the envelope at her. “It’s your responsibility and his. Not mine. What happened anyway? Did he dump you, or did—”

“You think—” she swallowed hard “—that this is my baby?”

He raised a cynical eyebrow. “If he isn’t,” he retorted, “then whose is he?”

“He’s Janine’s, of course!” She sounded as if she was spelling out something incredibly simple to a dim-witted child.

“You’re lying.” He glared at her. “Janine died in the train wreck.” He felt an ache in his heart, the same ache he always felt when he thought about his sister. “She was eight months pregnant, but—”

“Janine had her baby two weeks before the accident!”

He stared at her, his mind reeling.

Hugging Matthew close, she went on in a tone of utter dismay, “Didn’t she call you at the time and let you know?”

He felt the hair at his nape prickle. “You’re saying…this is really Janine’s child?”

She nodded. “Yes, this is really her child.”

“Dear God.” He exhaled a shaky breath. “No, Janine didn’t call…our arrangement was that I would phone her. I knew I’d be out in the jungle most of the time so I told her I’d be incommunicado in August but I’d get back to the mining camp around her due date and give her a call. I was actually back earlier than I’d expected, but before I had a chance to call her, you phoned with the news about the train crash. I was shattered when you told me Janine and Tom had died—and when I asked about the baby, you said there were no survivors in that compartment of the train. I assumed Janine was still pregnant, of course. And at that point, you broke down so I didn’t press you for details.”

“I’d told you everything I knew. But…didn’t you get the message I left for you at the camp the following day?”

“No.” He frowned. “I didn’t get any message.”

“Jordan, the police turned up at my apartment, hours after they’d notified me about Tom and Janine. They told me the baby had been found in the wreckage, miraculously alive and unhurt. I phoned the camp a second time but you weren’t there so I left a message.” Tears welled up and she blinked them back. “I can’t believe you didn’t get it.”

He struggled to get his thoughts in order. “Why were Janine and Tom traveling by train with a new baby?”

“They were on their way home from L.A.—they’d gone down there for a friend’s wedding. Matthew was born there.”

“Was he premature?”

“No, he was a full-term baby—Janine had made a mistake with her dates. Anyway, Matthew decided during the wedding reception that he was ready to make his way into the world! After they got him out of hospital, Tom and Janine stayed on in their friends’ apartment for ten days. Then they bought a car seat to transport Matthew home.” Mallory’s voice trembled. “The police said it saved his little life.”

For a long moment, she and Jordan looked at each other in silence. Without taking her eyes from him, she wiped a tear away with a fingertip. And then another.

“So,” she whispered finally, “where do we go from here?”

“Janine’s baby. It’s…hard to take this in.”

She smiled wanly through her tears. “He looks like Janine, except for the fair hair.” As she spoke, she moved over to him. “Isn’t he adorable?”

Dazedly, he looked at the infant but as soon as Matthew saw him, the child emitted a scream of terror.

“Honey!” Mallory’s tone was startled. “What’s wrong?”

The baby wrenched himself around and grabbing her shirt, buried his face against her bosom. But even that didn’t altogether muffle his screams.

“Sweetie, what’s the matter?” asked Mallory urgently. “What is it?”

The child twisted his head around, eyes flooded with tears, but the mere sight of Jordan sent him off into a renewed session of frantic screaming.

“It would seem,” Jordan said in an ironic tone, “that my nephew doesn’t like me.”

“Hush, Matthew, hush, sweetheart.” Mallory held the baby against her shoulder and rubbed his back soothingly. To Jordan, she said, “It must be your beard.”

“He’s never seen a beard before?”

“He’s not used to men—bearded or clean-shaven. Through the week, Elsa has been looking after him—”

“Elsa?”

“Elsa Carradine. She lives a few doors along from here. She’s been baby-sitting Matthew during the week. Matthew’s used to being with her, and with her boarders—the three Barnley sisters.”

The baby’s screams had been replaced by convulsive sobs. Mallory went on hurriedly, “I’m going to take him through to the bedroom and settle him, then I’ll put him down for his nap. When I come back, we’ll talk.”

She added, as she left, “And I hope you’ll rethink your decision to sell the house, now that you know the reason for my present financial situation.”

Worn out after his crying bout, Matthew fell asleep as soon as Mallory tucked him into his crib.

Glad to have a quiet moment to herself, she crossed to the bedroom window and looked out. What a shock it had been to discover that Jordan owned the house—and that he was the one who had set the incredibly low rent. She could hardly believe he’d behaved so generously, considering how adamantly he’d opposed the marriage.

How the two of them had fought about it!

She sighed as she remembered the first time they’d spoken. He’d phoned her from somewhere in South America after Janine had told him she was pregnant and planning to marry. He’d called Tom every name under the sun. Unable to fly home immediately as he was under contract to finish a mining job, he’d demanded that Mallory talk the couple out of getting married. She had refused.

He’d been furious. He’d phoned her several times over the next few days, but she’d remained firm. Tom wanted to marry Janine and as far as she was concerned, that was the end of it. Her brother had always had a good head on his shoulders and she had the utmost faith in both him and his good judgment of people.

She hadn’t actually met Jordan Caine till the day of the wedding. She’d been dreading that first meeting, but to her surprise, his attitude had been nonconfrontational.

Only later had he revealed his true colours.

The reception had been held at a lakeside hotel outside Seattle, and after Tom and Janine had left for their honeymoon, Mallory had been feeling weepy. She’d stolen away from the party, and had walked down to the beach.

The evening was late but the summer air was still warm. She’d thought herself totally alone as she’d stood gazing out over the moonlit waters—until she’d heard Jordan Caine’s voice come harshly from behind her.

“I’ll never forgive you.”

She’d turned, her heart thumping wildly against her ribs. He was standing a few feet away, his tux jacket shoved back by hands fisted on his hips as he glared at her.

She blinked away the tears that had been blurring her gaze, and tried to gather herself together. But before she could respond, he went on,

“Your brother should be locked up! My sister’s only eighteen—for heaven’s sake, she’s just finished high school! He took advantage of her, got her pregnant, it’s an absolute disgrace—”

“They’re married now. Can’t you just accept that?”

“She’s just a baby herself! She could have had the child adopted—”

“Janine desperately wanted to keep her baby—”

“She’s immature! She’s hardly able to look after herself—”

“Tom will look after them both.” Mallory kept her voice steady despite a spurt of anger. “You need have no worries about Janine…or the baby.”

“Dammit, you’re every bit as stubborn and irresponsible as he is! If you’d backed me up, this wedding would never have taken place. My sister could have had the baby adopted and then gone on with her life—”

“She is getting on with her life. And it’s going to be a good life. Tom starts work in Seashore when they come back from their honeymoon, and they’ve rented a lovely house there, for next to nothing. They were lucky, I admit. If it hadn’t been available, they’d have had to settle for a basement suite…but still, they’d have been happy, because they’re in love—”

A seagull suddenly swooped by the bedroom window, snapping Mallory back to the present.

She could hear footsteps in the room above. Was Jordan packing his things? Getting ready to leave? She hoped so. But she also prayed that before he left, he’d reassure her that he wasn’t going to sell the house. At least, not yet.

He must see things differently, now that he knew the baby was Janine’s. No way would he want to be responsible for throwing his own sister’s child out on the street.

With her heart in her mouth, Mallory went out into the front hall and as she heard his steps approach the landing, she breathlessly waited for Matthew’s uncle to come down.

CHAPTER THREE

JORDAN gestured curtly towards the sitting room as he reached the foot of the stairs. “We’ll talk in there.”

Bossy, bossy! “Let’s go out to the backyard patio,” Mallory said. “It’s such a lovely day. My bedroom window’s open, I’ll be able to hear Matthew if he wakes up.”

He shrugged. “Fine.”

He followed her as she led the way along to the kitchen. When she opened the outside door, a startled robin flew off the redwood deck and in a flash of orange, disappeared around the side of the house.

Mallory crossed to the middle of the spacious deck, where a bench and chairs were arranged around a rectangular wooden table. Taking a seat, she watched as Jordan strode over to the edge of the deck and looked out over the lawn.

“It’s a big garden.” He jammed his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “Must take quite a bit of upkeep.”

“But it’s wonderful for children. A nice flat lawn—and lots of shrubs and nooks for playing hide-and-seek.”

“Looks as if it was professionally landscaped, but I remember it as being neglected. Everything overgrown.”

“It was, but Tom soon licked it into shape. Elsa gave him some tips but he had a green thumb and everything he touched seemed to flourish.”

Jordan still had his back to her and at mention of Tom his spine stiffened and she sensed a wall of hostility rise between them. He’d had a very low opinion of Tom and he obviously didn’t care to listen to her praise him.

Well, too bad. She wasn’t about to gloss over her brother’s talents and accomplishments just because Jordan Caine had been so blinkered he hadn’t appreciated the man his sister had married.

His expression was shuttered when he finally walked back across the deck.

She’d expected him to sit across from her but instead he came around and leaned his backside against the table beside her, so close that if she’d wanted to, she could have stroked his left thigh. A powerful, tanned, and brawny thigh. If she’d wanted to. Which, she decided as she determinedly raised her gaze, she most definitely did not!

He folded his arms across his chest and looked down at her. “Right,” he said, “let’s discuss our options.”

She refocused her thoughts and waited.

“The first,” he went on, “would be to put the kid up for adoption—”

“No.” She didn’t raise her voice. She just said “No,” very quietly, but in an icy tone that made it clear that this was not, nor ever would be, an option.

“Okay, no surprise there. Next option, you keep him. You’d have sole custody.”

She grasped the arms of her chair. “Naturally,” she said, “this would be the option I’d choose.”

“The only snag being, from your point of view, that you wouldn’t have this house.”

She’d hoped that the second option would include his letting her rent the house. Her spirits sank as she realized it did not. “That’s a limited option,” she said. “If I didn’t have the house, the best I could afford would be a dingy basement apartment—”

“The third option,” he plowed on, “would be for me to have custody. I’d keep the house, of course, and—”

“You?” Stunned, she stared at him. “But you don’t even like babies. You admitted that this morning. You said you didn’t like babies and you wanted nothing to do with—”

“I didn’t know, at that time, that we were talking about Janine’s baby.” His gray eyes had a steely glint. “We’re talking family here, Mallory. Family, blood ties—”

“But you said just now that the first option would be to have him adopted—”

“I threw that in for good measure. Like you, it wasn’t something I’d have considered.”

Frantically, she tried to keep her cool. “You’re not being consistent. You originally wanted Janine to have him adopted—in fact, you were hell-bent on it! Now you say that one option would be for you to keep him yourself—”

“Apples and oranges. Yes, I wanted Janine to have her baby adopted, but only because she was too young and immature to take on the responsibility of a child—and because she had her whole life ahead of her. This scenario is totally different. For me, money’s no problem—and,” he added drily, “at the grand old age of thirty-five, my life’s half over.”

“But—”

“This baby is my only connection to Janine. I want to be part of his life, and I want him to be a part of mine.”

“But you spend most of your time abroad!”

“No problem. I’d hire a nanny to care for him while I’m out of the country—”

“A nanny?” Mallory’s outraged expression told him exactly what she thought of that idea. “You’d leave Matthew with a stranger? No way! I’ll fight you in court if—”

“The fourth option,” he interjected smoothly, “would be for the two of us to share custody.”

She gave a derisive—and most unladylike—snort. “You’re joking, of course!”

“Do I look as if I’m joking?”

He did not. His jaw was clamped, his lips compressed, his gray eyes hard as cement.

“Us? Sharing custody?” She shook her head. “Uh-uh. It would never work. We would never get along—”

“Why not?”

“Your attitude, for one thing.”

“What’s wrong with my attitude?”

“You’re arrogant and rude and controlling and—”

“You’re stubborn and bloody-minded,” he growled. “And far too romantic for your own damned good!”

“Romantic?” Where the heck had that come from!

“You’re looking at this situation through rose-tinted glasses—it’s as if you’d found a baby on your doorstep and you see the two of you living together and being happy ever after. The reality is, you can barely afford to keep him. The reality is a child is better off with two parents.”

“The reality is that he’d be far better off with one than with two people who’d be sparring constantly the way you and I do! And besides, shared custody would be so unsettling for Matthew it would make his little head spin. He’d have to move back and forth between us, never knowing a real home.”

“Of course he’d know a real home!” Jordan’s voice was rough with impatience. “If we were to share custody, you’d stay on in this house.”

Totally taken aback, she stared at him. After several beats, she said, “And you? Where would you fit in?”

“I’d continue with my work abroad but we’d share responsibility for the baby, make joint decisions regarding his welfare. And I’d visit when I could.”

She chewed her lip. “You’d consider this your…home?”

“Uh-uh. Home is where I hang my hat.” His grin was self-mocking. “And I never wear a hat.”

Looking at him warily, Mallory said, “You’d be happy to leave Matthew with me?”

“I don’t recall using the word happy. Let’s just say, you’d be right for the job. And he likes you.”

“But you don’t.”

“It wouldn’t be necessary for me to like you, Mallory. Or for you to like me.” His gaze narrowed as he searched her face for an answer. “You’d consider it? I myself see shared custody as the best option.”

“I’d prefer to have sole custody,” she said stubbornly.

“Even without this house?”

“I could manage.”

“As you yourself just said, if you didn’t have this house, all you’d be able to afford would be some dingy basement apartment. But if you were determined to seek sole custody, we’d end up in court…and I’d win hands down.”

“Oh, not necessarily,” she shot back. “Just because you’ve got pots of money—”

“Pots of money can buy the best lawyers in the country. You wouldn’t have a hope in hell of beating me.” His smile was faintly malicious. “It’s my turn, sweetheart. You won hands down when it came to the wedding; I’ll beat you hands down when it comes to the baby. Seems only fair.”

“You don’t care about Matthew, do you! All you care about is winning!”

“But I think you’ll agree with me, when you simmer down, that shared custody is the best option.”

She drew in a very deep breath. “I agree,” she said reluctantly, “that it’s worth considering.”

“Good. Because even though I know I’d win a custody battle, I’d prefer not to go that route. It wouldn’t be in Matthew’s best interests; he’d be better off with both of us looking after his welfare. Furthermore, as I said, he’s used to you, and for his sake it would be better to hire you than hire a stranger to look after him.”

“Hire me?” She gaped at him. “Hire me?”

“Weren’t you paying attention? I said, you’d be right for the job, and ‘job’ is what I meant. You stay in the house, rent-free, and I pay you—well, whatever good nannies get paid.” He pushed himself off the table and towered over her. “Take it or leave it, Mallory. That’s the deal.”

She sprang to her feet and glared up at him. “And what happens if you decide to get married? You’d have me out on the street in two seconds flat.”

His grin was lazy. “Not a problem, sweetheart. I don’t plan on marrying. Ever.”

“That’s what you say now. But how do I know that somewhere down the road you won’t meet somebody, fall in love, and all of a sudden there’s a new bride at Number Five Seaside Lane. Somebody who loves children and doesn’t want me around! No.” She squared her shoulders rigidly. “I won’t do it. I won’t risk it.”

“I’d be taking that chance too, Mallory. You don’t have the resources at present to fight me in court…but what if you were to meet some millionaire and get married?”

“I have no plans,” she said coldly, “to marry. Millionaire or no millionaire.”

“That’s what you say now.” In a flat tone, he echoed her own words. “And I’m not prepared to risk it either.”

As they stared at each other, Mallory felt a sinking sensation. “It seems,” she said defeatedly, “that we’ve reached an impasse. I don’t trust you, and you don’t trust me.”

“Then we’ll just have to sign a contract. Make it legal. I don’t marry; you don’t marry.”

“I don’t think that would stand up in any court.”

He sighed. “Probably not. Look.” He rubbed the heel of one hand over his beard, making a rasping sound. “We can make this work. Trust me. I promise you, I’m not going to marry. I don’t want a wife. I don’t want to be tied down.”

“I’d like to believe you, but people change—”

“For God’s sake, Mallory, what do I have to do to convince you?”

She drew in a deep breath. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know what you could do to convince me. But I could never agree to shared custody unless I have absolute faith that any agreement between us would be absolutely rock solid and permanent. I need that security. Because of Matthew. I love him too much to take any chances.”

Jordan walked away from her, back to the edge of the deck, and looked out over the garden again.

The robin had returned. It ran about the lawn, halting every few seconds to cock its head and look around with its sharp inquisitive eyes. Mallory watched it, her own gaze slightly blurred, her heart filled with despair. She and Jordan had, indeed, reached an impasse.

And she could see no way out.

She was standing there dismally, when she heard the phone ring inside.

She made her way to the kitchen and picked up the handset from the wall phone.

“Hello,” she said. “Mallory Madison speaking.”

“This is Celia, Ms. Madison, at Burton Barton Realty. May I speak to Mr. Caine?”

“Mr. Caine’s outside. Could you hold on a minute, please, and—”

“I’m here.”

Mallory turned and saw Jordan coming into the kitchen. She held out the phone. “It’s Burton Barton Realty.”

He nodded, and murmured “Thanks’ as he took the phone. Then he said, “Jordan Caine here. Oh, hi, Celia…”

He listened for a few moments, before saying, “Two o’clock it is.” Replacing the receiver, he announced, “Burton has a client coming to see the place at two.”

Mallory leaned back against the countertop, glad of its support as her legs had become weak. “Word travels fast.”

“It’s a prime property, in a prime location.”

“I guess.”

“Celia suggested we take off when they’re here. It’s inhibiting for the client when the occupants are around.”

“We’d better have a quick lunch, then, and once we’re done, I’ll feed Matthew.”

Forcing herself to move, Mallory walked to the fridge. “It’s not going to be anything very fancy. I brought enough food from Seattle for Matthew, but I haven’t had time to do the rest of my grocery shopping—I’ll go to the supermarket when Burton and his client come. Elsa’s left me some deli meat and buns, though. We can have ham sandwiches.”

While they ate lunch, Mallory said—hardly daring to hope, “Have you given up your plan to fight me for Matthew?”

“What makes you think that?”

“You said that if you had custody of Matthew, you’d keep the house. And you also said that if we agreed to shared custody, you’d keep the house. Now since you’ve gone back to your original plan to sell, I have to deduce that you’ve counted both those options out. Does that mean you’ve given up your plan to fight me for him?”

“No,” he said. “I intend to fight you for Matthew…”

Mallory had just taken a small bite of her sandwich; as he spoke she almost choked on it.

“…and I’ll win. But I’ve had second thoughts about keeping the house. It’ll be handier for me if Matthew’s closer to an airport. That way, when I fly in from overseas, I won’t have to waste time driving all the way to Seashore. I’ll buy a condo in Seattle. Downtown.”

“A condo? Downtown?’ Mallory glowered at him. “Jordan Caine, you don’t know the first thing about bringing up children! A little boy needs a backyard, a place to play safely outside—”

“The nanny can take him to a park.” His tone was careless. “He’ll survive. Other kids do.”

Stomach churning, Mallory put down her sandwich and said scornfully, “You claim to have Matthew’s interests at heart. I don’t believe you. All you care about is getting back at me. You know how you’ll hurt me if you take Matthew from me, and you’ll take the greatest pleasure out of that. You really are contemptible!”

“Tut, Mallory, watch your blood pressure.” His eyes had a taunting gleam as they fixed on her topknot. “Hair that colour…” He shook his head and looked as if he was trying to control laughter. “Quite a liability.”

“Not such a liability as being born without a heart!” she snapped back. “And that’s such a cliché,” she added in a scathing tone, “about red hair—” But before she could go on, the front doorbell chimed.

Pushing back her chair, she rose abruptly to her feet and stalked from the kitchen. The man was unbearable. She was glad to escape his presence…and his juvenile humour!

When she opened the front door, she found Elsa standing on the stoop. Her neighbour’s petite figure was neatly attired in a pink-and-white spotted dress. Her silver hair sparkled in the sunlight, and her eyes glowed with warmth.

“I’ve brought something for your dinner.” She indicated the covered Pyrex bowl in her hands. “A chicken casserole. I saw the moving van and I knew you’d be busy, what with having company and unpacking all your boxes.”

“Oh, thanks, Elsa. You’re a godsend.”

“How are things going?”

Mallory rolled her eyes. “Don’t even ask!”

“That bad?”

“I was about to strangle him when you rang the bell!”

“I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“Come in and meet him—see for yourself how infuriating he is.”

“I don’t want to disturb—are you eating lunch?”

“No, we’ve finished.”

“Then I’ll come in, for just a minute.” Elsa stepped inside. “Is Matthew having his nap?”

“He is,” Mallory said. But as they passed the bedroom door, she heard a banging sound from inside. “He was!”

Chuckling, she and Elsa went into the bedroom and crossed to the crib. Matthew was lying on his back, hitting his fist against the bars.

The moment he saw them he beamed.

“Oh, look!” Elsa said with delight, “I think that first tooth has finally come through.”

Mallory scooped him up and as she cradled him in her left arm, she checked his mouth. When she saw a sliver of white in his lower gum, she ran a fingertip lightly over it and felt the sharp edge.

“You’re right, Elsa!” she exclaimed, and gave Matthew a hug. “Oh, what a clever boy you are! Now let’s get you something to eat.”

In the kitchen, they found Jordan slotting dishes into the dishwasher.

Keeping Matthew tucked against her shoulder so he couldn’t see his uncle, Mallory said, “Elsa, I’d like you to meet Janine’s brother, Jordan Caine. Jordan, this is Elsa Carradine.”

Jordan straightened and stuck out his right hand. “Hi, Elsa. How are you?”

“Oh, I’m well, thanks. And you?”

“Couldn’t be better,” he said pleasantly.

Mallory ground her teeth. The man could be so darned plausible, with that open smile. But she knew him better…

“My condolences, Jordan, on losing your sister,” Elsa said. “Janine was a very sweet girl. In the short time we knew her, everyone around here grew to love her.”

“Thank you, Elsa. I appreciate hearing that.”

“Matthew’s so like her. Oftentimes a baby takes after both parents, but I see nothing of Tom in him.”

Mallory felt a rush of panic. She had to cut Elsa off, before this dangerous line of conversation went any further.

“Elsa, would you pop the casserole in here and then I’ll get Matthew’s lunch ready?” She opened the fridge door as she spoke.

Elsa slid the dish into the fridge and then held out her arms for the baby. “Let me strap him into his chair.”

“Thanks.” She handed over the baby. “Just don’t let him see Jordan. He’s terrified of that beard.” Weak with relief as she saw Elsa focus on Matthew, Mallory swept her suit jacket off the high chair where she’d draped it that morning, and turned the chair so it faced away from Jordan. “There, pop him in. I’m going to hang my jacket up.”

As Mallory left the room, Jordan lounged against the counter and watched Elsa strap the baby into his high chair. Matthew obviously adored her. Though Jordan could see only the back of the baby’s head, he could see the child’s chubby little hands reach up, could hear him gurgle happily to her. And Elsa just as clearly adored Matthew. Her face was wreathed in smiles, her voice loving as she chatted to him.

‘What a good boy,” she said, “to get your first tooth. And so clever, to get all that fussing over with before Auntie arrived, so you won’t be keeping her up at night and she can have the nice rest she so richly deserves.”

Mallory came back into the kitchen and Jordan transferred his attention to her as she heated a small container of baby food in the microwave, and fastened a bib around the baby’s neck, murmuring affectionately to the child while Elsa took a seat and watched dotingly.

Jordan hid a smug smile. He didn’t like to think of himself as being manipulative, but he’d undoubtedly pressed one of Mallory’s hot buttons when he’d oh-socasually announced he intended to buy a condo in downtown Seattle.

He intended to do no such thing.

He had no intention of uprooting Matthew from his familiar surroundings and friends. He had no intention of hiring a stranger to look after the child. And he had no intention of selling the house. But her outraged response to his announcement had been exactly what he’d counted on.

By fair means or foul, by emotional blackmail if necessary, he’d persuade her to agree to shared custody. She didn’t trust him, and he had no way of forcing her to. But if his manipulations worked, she’d agree to his plan in the end, because she wanted what was best for Matthew.

As he himself did.

Janine’s baby was his nephew and his responsibility, and he was not a man who shirked responsibility. But Mallory was not only willing but desperate to take on that responsibility too.

The baby was her Achilles’ heel. And he felt no compunction about taking advantage of that vulnerability, because the end would justify the means. He needed someone reliable to look after Matthew while he was working abroad.

And Mallory Madison would make the perfect nanny.

After Mallory had fed Matthew, Elsa said,

“Why don’t I take him with me for a while? It’ll give you a chance to unpack without him getting into everything. All those boxes out in the front hall…”

“Thanks, Elsa,” Mallory said tautly. “But I won’t be unpacking. I discovered this morning that Number Five belongs to Jordan, and he has put it up for sale.”

Elsa turned an astonished face to Jordan. “This is your house?”

He nodded.

“Did Janine and Tom know?”

“No,” Mallory said. “He didn’t want them to.”

Elsa’s eyes were thoughtful as she looked again at Jordan. “In my humble opinion, that was a very generous thing to do. Such good deeds are few and far between today. And the secret acts of kindness are the most worthy of all.”

Mallory felt as if her staunchest ally had taken a step into the enemy’s camp. But then Elsa went on, “Why are you selling now, though? What’s Mallory going to do?”

“I appreciate your concern, Elsa,” Jordan said casually. “But we’ll work something out. Something that’s in Matthew’s best interests. In the meantime, I appreciate your offer to baby-sit. We need to clear the front hall before Burton Barton comes along at two with his client.”

“Someone’s coming already?” Elsa scooped the baby from the high chair. “Well, in that case, I’ll be pleased to take this little precious with me!” She said her goodbyes to Jordan, and then walked with Mallory to the front hall.

As Mallory hauled Matthew’s stroller from the closet, Elsa whispered, “What on earth are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know.” Mallory strapped the baby into the stroller. “He says he’s going to fight me for custody…and win. And then he’s going to buy a condo in downtown Seattle and hire a nanny to look after Matthew!”

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