She increased the pace of her walk, tension tugging her skin tight. She should call Laura and take Jennie back to her. Every hysterical inch of her wanted to. Will you desert your child when it gets hard? the annoyingly logical part of her asked.
No, she couldn’t accept failure—yet.
She heard the door open and turned around. Why hadn’t she thought of Anna?
Diego stood in the doorway, frowning.
Her heart sank to her feet, dismay making her weak-kneed.
His gaze amused, he checked his watch.
“Was I gone that long?”
“You said you were going to Sao Paulo.”
They both spoke at the same time.
His mouth tightened. As it did every time their conversation skated anywhere near Eduardo. “My trip got postponed.”
Her shoulders felt as if there were metal rods tied to them, crushing her with their weight. The last thing she needed was for Diego to see her abysmal failure.
“What’s with the baby?”
“She’s—”
“Laura’s. I know. She had her with her last week.”
She nodded, insecurities sawing at her throat. Of course he remembered Jennie from that one visit—while Kim had always scrambled even to remember her name.
He had picked her up one evening last week from work—a strangely domestic but comforting gesture—and she had been forced to introduce her staff to him. All forty of them—from their sixty-year-old office manager Karen to nineteen-year-old intern Amy—had mooned over him. And informed her with a sigh the next morning that they understood her actions perfectly.
“Kim?”
She sighed. Jennie’s little mewls were picking up volume again. “I offered to look after her for a few hours.”
A single eyebrow shot into his hairline. “Why?”
She raised her voice to be heard over the infant’s cries. “I decided to take myself on a test drive, and Laura’s the only one with a baby.”
“You’re practicing because you’re pregnant?”
“Something like that.”
“Isn’t that a little extreme?”
“I believe in being prepared.”
“Prepared for what?”
She pushed her hair out of her face with her free hand, trying to ignore his gaze drilling into her.
“I...I don’t know what’s wrong with her. She won’t calm down.” Hitching Jennie up with her one hand, she wiped her forehead. “I’ve fed her, changed her and tried to burp her. I’m running out of ideas except to take her back.”
She looked around the cozy sitting area she had taken over for the evening, taking in the untouched protein shake, the dirty diaper on the rug, Jennie’s blanket trailing over the edge of the designer leather couch...
But it was the clawing urge to take Jennie back to Laura and pretend the evening had never happened that gutted her.
Tears burned in the back of her throat, gathering momentum like a storm.
Dear God, how was she...?
Diego’s hard frame in front of her pulled her to a stop.
Jennie’s wails were becoming incessant, her little face scrunched up tight. Kim’s heart sank to the floor. She was ready to bawl her own eyes out.
She raised her gaze to Diego, her neck stiff, her forearms strained to the point of shaking. “She won’t stop crying, Diego.”
He took Jennie from her, his movements infinitely gentle. The little girl fit on his forearm with room to spare.
Kim’s heart lurched into her throat.
With curious ease he held Jennie high in the cradle of his arms, her pink dress contrasting against his rough, large hands. “Might be because you’re holding her too tight and she can feel your tension.”
“That’s not true. She was crying long before I picked her up...”
The infant immediately stopped crying, as though confirming Diego’s statement. He swung the cradle of his arms left to right, gently, his gaze never moving from Jennie.
Kim froze as he cooed to her. It was the most wonderful sight she had ever seen.
“Babies are very sensitive to our own moods and personalities.”
His soft words landed like a slap on her. “What the hell does that mean?”
The look he threw her, puzzled and doubting, pierced through the last shred of her composure.
“It means that she can sense that you’re nervous—wound up.” His gaze drilled into her. “Overwrought, stressed out...do you want me to go on? What you feel is setting her off. If you just—”
“I get it—okay!” she said, practically shouting.
Every muscle in her trembled, and her chest was so tight that it was an effort to breathe. As long as it had just been in her head it had still been bearable. Given voice like that, it tore through her.