More Than Perfect(49)
“Thank you, Lucius,” she said. “It’s the most gorgeous ring I’ve ever seen. Perfect, of course. Utter perfection.” She laughed through her tears and held out her hand to admire the flash and burn. Where before there’d been the slightest of tremors, now they visibly trembled.
Lucius’s gaze shifted from the ring to the confused delight reflected in Angie’s expression. He didn’t think he’d ever been with a woman quite so open in her attitude and responses. It pleased him. It more than pleased him. And he was glad they’d taken the time to find the perfect ring. The perfect ring for the perfect woman, came the wayward thought.
“You’re quite welcome, sweetheart. Here…”
He handed Mikey to her while he arranged for payment. She took the baby into her arms and hugged him close while he followed the manager to another room where the business end of the transaction could be completed. The sale was accomplished as discreetly as everything else. Fortunately, the ring didn’t require sizing, so Angie could wear it home. He arranged to have the rest of the set messengered to him the next week since he preferred not to walk out the door carrying jewelry that cost the equivalent of a medium-size South Pacific island. Maybe even a small European country.
He rejoined Angie a short time later, and found her leaning against the back of the love seat with her eyes closed. Her left hand cradled Mikey’s head, her fingers sinking into the short, dark curls and gently stroking. For some reason, seeing his ring on her finger, the baby he’d taken as his own held tight within the warmth of her embrace, stirred a deep, relentless craving to make the picture she created more than just a business contract.
He felt the image of her and Mikey imprint itself on his mind and on what remained of his heart. And he wanted. Wanted to have the life that image promised. Wanted it to be real. Wanted it to last forever. He backed away, forcing himself to reject a temptation he didn’t dare surrender to.
He’d made a promise to her—that he wouldn’t force her into an emotional relationship, and he was honor bound to keep that promise. Besides, he wasn’t after an emotional involvement any more than she was. Opening himself up, meant trusting. And trusting meant eventual pain and disillusionment. Better to remain above all that, to avoid the bitter fall that would inevitably come if he were foolish enough to succumb to the fantasy.
Deliberately, he turned his back on possibility. “We’re done here,” he announced.
And that said it all.
He’d been quiet. Far too quiet for Angie’s peace of mind.
She glanced up from her book and studied Lucius. He sat on the opposite end of the couch, papers piled around him, Mikey on his lap. It never ceased to amaze her how at ease he was with his parental duties. And yet…
She sensed something, something that worried at the edges of her mind. She’d noticed it on several occasions and tried to call them to mind in the hopes of finding the connecting thread that ran through whatever it was that bothered her. The first time had been before he’d offered her the job of “wife,” though not long before, three months after accepting guardianship of Mikey. They’d just finished up work for the day and Keesha had dropped off the baby. As always, the baby greeted Lucius with a huge grin, reaching eagerly for the man he’d someday call “Dad.”
And Lucius had grinned back, actually crossing to the sitting area to give Mikey some one-on-one attention. She stood in the doorway to his office, resting her shoulder against the doorjamb while she watched, unnoticed. Since he’d inherited Mikey, she’d discovered that they had a little routine. First, Lucius would tickle Mikey’s belly which elicited gales of gurgling laughter. Then he’d play a quick game of peekaboo. And finally, he’d do something that caused an aching tightness to grip her throat. He’d count fingers and toes, as though reassuring himself everything was still safe and sound and accounted for.
This time was no different, except when he started to pull off Mikey’s tiny Seahawk football socks, he stopped and shook his head. And she could see, bit by bit, the way he closed down. Briskly, he checked Mikey’s diaper, handed him his favorite rattle and slipped him into his bouncy chair, one guaranteed to keep a baby entertained by playing a dozen different songs and featuring an overhead mobile of various farm animals. It even—heaven help her—vibrated.
The second time had been tonight at dinnertime. He’d taken Mikey into the kitchen to feed him and she’d been highly amused by the noises emanating from that direction. Sounds of planes, trains and cars. Baby giggles. Mealtime was clearly bonding time for the two boys.