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Heart of the Raven(9)

By:Susan Crosby


He paced. After a while he stopped at the bottom of the staircase. She'd  had plenty of time to put her things away, so what was she doing?

He climbed the stairs and made his way down the hall. She'd left the  door open. He should've announced his presence, he supposed, but he  didn't want to startle Daniel.

He peeked into the room. She was standing at the window, the blinds not  only open but raised, leaving a clear view of his property, overgrown  and wild. He hadn't seen it from the upstairs angle for-well, for too  long.

"Did you want something?" she asked, not turning around.

He'd wondered if she knew he was there. "Just checking that everything is okay with your room."

She faced him. "It's great."

"I'm across the hall."

"Okay." She walked toward him, her gaze on him until she got close, then  dropping to the sleeping baby. "You're a natural," she said.

"Cuddling is easy."

"What's hard?"

He hesitated, then settled on the truth. "Remembering."

She made a sound of sympathy but didn't make eye contact, for which he was grateful.

"MaryAnn took care of Kyle," he said into the silence. "I thought the  most important thing in my life should be providing for my family, so I  gave more time to my work than my family. I wasn't part of Kyle's  everyday life, especially as a baby. It'll be different this time."

"Good. Although apparently you're a very busy man, much in demand. From  what I saw on the Internet, you're at the top of your field."

"Not the top, but I do okay. It's amazing how an odd-ball thing like  being a recluse can have such impact. People are curious, which gets my  foot in the door, so to speak. Then they like my designs."

"How do you meet with clients?"

"They come here. I think they're disappointed because I don't have a  wild, overgrown beard and a crazy gleam in my eyes. My partner handles  the engineering aspect-someone has to be on-site during construction.  And a business manager handles the staff. I design."

Daniel wriggled. Almost instantly he started to cry-loudly. Demandingly.

"I'll fix a bottle," Heath said, starting to pass the baby to Cassie.

"Or I could fix a bottle and you could change his diaper," she said, challenge in her eyes.

"Simple engineering."

"Go for it. I'll warm the formula." She pressed a kiss to the baby's  head. "Daddy needs to learn sometime, doesn't he, Danny Boy?"

Danny Boy. At the endearment Heath almost pressed a kiss to her head. He  didn't know what fates were at work when he called her boss and got her  instead, but he was grateful.                       
       
           



       

Somehow he didn't think Quinn Gerard would've said yes to being a temporary nanny.





Six




"I think you should put the baby monitor in my room," Cassie argued at  eleven o'clock that night. They'd just settled Danny into his bassinet  for what they hoped would be a couple hours of uninterrupted sleep.

"I'm his father."

"I'm the help."

"Reluctant help," he said placidly.

She tapped her toe. It would drive her crazy staying in bed knowing  Heath was up taking care of the baby. Call it maternal instinct, call it  selfishness, call it a little crazy-she wanted to get up with Danny  during the night. Frankly she wanted the bassinet put in her room.

On the other hand, she would need her light on, which might shorten his  sleep cycle, or at least not allow him to get used to sleeping when it  was dark. He needed to learn to take his bottle then go back to sleep at  night, not have playtime.

"We can take turns," Heath said.

"How?"

"I'll put the monitor near my bedroom door. We can both keep our doors  open. I'll get up with him the first time. You can take the second."

If she left her door open he would know what a coward she could be, but  since it was probably as much of a concession as he was going to make,  she agreed to it. "We'll give it a shot."

"Magnanimous of you."

She laughed. He hadn't laughed yet, had barely smiled, yet he'd warmed  up considerably with her. Maybe she didn't have to worry about there not  being enough joy in Danny's life, after all. She only needed to make  sure he would get out into the world-with his father, not a nanny.

"Well, good night, then," she said.

"Good night."

She closed her door. By the time she'd gotten ready for bed and opened  her door again, he was already in bed. His door was partly open, his  room dark. She hadn't noticed the silence of the house all day, even  when Danny was quiet and she and Heath weren't talking. Now it seemed  silent again.

Which was reasonable, of course, but it was a strange silence, not a  comfortable nighttime silence. Just the different environment, she  decided. And the doors were open, which seemed too intimate for two  almost strangers. He could walk across the hall and into her room while  she slept and she wouldn't know.

Cassie climbed into bed, the bathroom light spilling into her room. She closed her eyes, willing herself to relax.

She could walk across the hall while he slept, too, and he wouldn't know, either.

The idea intrigued her. What was it about him that appealed to her? His  looks, of course. His intelligence. Success-that counted a lot with her.  It wouldn't matter what job he had, just that he was successful in it  and content with the job he did.

He'd been understating his reputation earlier. She'd learned he was one  of the premier designers of skyscrapers in the country, maybe the world.  He was sought after. People waited a long time for him to even consult  with them on an initial design.

How was he going to incorporate a baby into that life? Especially  without a wife. A nanny would be a big help, but it wasn't the same  thing.

Maybe once he started getting out of the house he would open up  emotionally again, meet a woman, date. Get married. Have more children.

She looked around the guest room. She didn't know much about furniture,  but everything looked expensive. Rich woods polished to a gleam. A  handmade quilt on the bed in a pattern she didn't know the name of but  was probably something he picked up on a trip somewhere. The art on the  walls wasn't bought at a garage sale, like hers.

Still, like the rest of the house, the room needed fresh flowers and  that certain touch that comes from having someone around who cared about  such things. She bought herself fresh flowers every Friday for her  studio apartment, and considered them a necessity not a luxury.

Cassie smoothed the quilt, tracing the pattern with her fingertips. If  she'd been at home on a normal Saturday night, she would've either been  working-surveillance, probably-or going to dinner then maybe out to a  club with friends. The sameness of it all was getting to her. She was  twenty-nine years old, and restless. However, her job required more than  a sixty-hour work week most of the time, and she didn't know if any man  would accept the amount of time she put in. She'd lost a few potential  boyfriends because of it. She hadn't cared. Until recently.

A light tapping on her door startled her.

"Can't sleep?" he asked, not entering her room, not even looking in.

He wouldn't know that she'd been trying to sleep. She sat up and grabbed  her notebook from the night-stand, making it seem as if she'd been  writing in it.                       
       
           



       

"Come in," she said.

He wore a T-shirt and pajama bottoms, as covered up as she was in her pajamas, yet it seemed too familiar.

"You can't sleep, either?" she asked.

He shook his head. He didn't come into the room but stayed at the  doorway, leaning a shoulder against it. "What you said earlier about  being in foster homes-how old were you?"

She pulled up her knees and rested her back against the headboard. "Nine."

"What happened to put you there?"

"My mother OD'd when I was five. My dad wasn't in the picture. My  grandfather took me in, but he died when I was nine." She saw sympathy  in his eyes and didn't want it. "It's in the past, Heath. Over and  done."

"How many homes?"

She answered but had no plans to elaborate. "Seven."

"Were you a problem child?"

"You could say that. I've changed."

"I'm not sure." He smiled so she knew he was joking.

"Depends on the circumstances. You jerked my chain, Mr. Raven, friend of Senator Sterling."

"I'm not sorry."

Over the monitor they could hear Danny fuss. She threw back her blankets.

"My turn," he reminded her.

"But I'm awake, too. He shouldn't need to eat yet, so maybe just a  little rocking back to sleep. I'm better at that than you are."

"Bragger."