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Lying beside her on the sofa, Lucy yawned hugely and stuffed a baby fist in her mouth. “Someone is getting sleepy,” Claire said. “I think your daughter has given up hope of having a nap in her brand-new crib.”
“Have faith,” Joh
Joh
“The spare room is at the far end of the hall.” He grabbed a bulging shopping bag and began to root through the contents. “I wouldn’t be able to hear her.”
“Most babies sleep better in a quiet room. Besides, you shouldn’t have to turn your living room into a nursery.”
He grunted, retrieved a package of crib sheets from the bag. “It’s only temporary.”
Claire considered that. “You’ve purchased a lot of permanent stuff for a temporary situation.”
He shrugged, struggled to extract the linens from their packaging. “The child needs these things no matter where she is.”
“She needs a solid-silver hairbrush?”
He looked stung. “She has hair.”
“Yes, she does indeed.”
“Grooming is important.”
Claire couldn’t argue that. “And three separate crib mobiles?”
“The saleswoman said that infants need visual stimulation.”
“And the computer that teaches ABC’s?”
“Educational toys give a child a better start in life.”
“She can barely lift her head, Joh
“Proper clothing is important to a child’s self-esteem.”
Something in his eyes alerted Claire that Joh
The question seemed to u
She hiked a brow. “A little touchy, are we?”
He sighed, allowing his shoulders to roll forward. “Sorry. Guess I do get a bit defensive about the stereotype of my heritage. Actually, my parents struggled when I was quite young, but by the time I was in school, they were middle-class suburbanites, just like your own family.”
“What do you know about my family?”
He blinked up from the drape of balloon-and-bow fabric he’d finally extracted from the package. “Nothing, I suppose. I just presumed—” A slow flush crawled up his throat. His smile was a little sheepish. “Touché. I guess we all fall into the stereotype trap.”
Her heart fluttered. “It’s only a trap if we can’t find the way out.”
Joh
“It just soaks into my head with the auburn hair rinse.”
“So that beautiful copper tone isn’t natural?”
“It would be more natural if I left those pesky gray sprouts in it.” To her horror, she giggled. “I ca
He laughed then, a genuine guffaw from the solar plexus that vibrated down her spine like a sensual massage. She’d never heard him laugh before. It nearly undid her. “Attorney-client privilege,” he said, clearly amused. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Returning his attention to the packaged crib sheet, he frowned, tore at the plastic wrap and muttered under his breath.
Claire plucked the item from his hand, removed the packaging and handed it back. Joh
“I take it you have maid service?”
He glanced up, startled. “Certainly.”
“Ah. In that case, you are clearly inexperienced in the fine art of bed making. Allow me to demonstrate.” She took the sheet, gave it a shake. “These cupped corners are molded to fit around the crib pad, like so.”
Joh
Her fingers trembled. She cleared her throat. “First you tuck one side over the mattress, left and right, then you smooth it over the crib pad and tuck in the far side, like so.”
“Amazing. It fits perfectly.”
If he’d smelled any better, Claire wouldn’t have been able to resist taking a nip out of his throat. “We also have these cute little blanket clips—” she rooted through a shopping bag to retrieve the package “—which fit through the mesh walls, clip to the blanket and keep the baby from kicking the blanket off.”
His eyes lit. “An excellent idea.”
“Didn’t you purchase a new crib blanket?”
“Yes, several.” He stepped over a mount of torn plastic wrap to retrieve yet another shopping bag, from which he extracted a soft, fleecy blanket embroidered with tiny sheep. “Do you think she’d prefer the yellow or the pink? I think there’s a white one, as well….”
“Yellow is fine.” Her fingers brushed his arm as she took the blanket from him. She moistened her lips, waited for the tingling to subside, then fastened the blanket clips and stepped back to view her handiwork.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Joh
She smiled. “Indeed.”
A muscle jittered at the curve of his jaw. “I do have a responsibility to make her life as comfortable as possible for the time that we are together.”
Claire’s smile faded. “She’s your daughter, Joh
The subtle tilt of a brow was the only indication he’d heard her. “Perhaps the star-collage mobile would be more appropriate for an infant of her age.”
To give herself a moment for thought, Claire busied herself clearing some of the packing materials from the floor. There was something going on here, something Joh
There was only one way to find out, Claire decided. The direct approach. She glanced up, saw him tightening the mobile clamp on the crib frame. “When is Samantha returning, Joh
His fingers paused in their task, but only for a moment. “Soon.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you know more than you did last night, don’t you?” When he didn’t reply, she dumped an armful of trash by the front door, then circled the diminutive, net-sided portable crib to confront him. “You made some phone calls this morning, didn’t you? You know something.”