Hired by Her Husband (12 page)

“Nonstop flight to JFK,” Natalie had explained when she’d called. “I figured it was better with Lily.”

No doubt it was. But it wasn’t better with George.

“You mustn’t let Lily bother you,” she said to him now. If she couldn’t lay down rules for Lily, she’d have to do it with George. “I’ll try to keep her out of your way.”

“Why?”

“Why?” She stared at him. “Because she’s four years old and she’s still learning when not to interrupt. Trying to work around her is not easy.”

“We’ll manage,” George said confidently.

Sophy wasn’t quite so confident. “Just don’t yell at her.”

George’s eyes widened. “When did I ever yell?”

“Well, you didn’t. But she was a baby then. I’m only saying.” Sophy shifted farther away from him, feeling awkward.

George rested his arm along the back of the seat. His fingers were perilously close to her shoulder. “You don’t have to worry,” he assured her. “I like kids. I know how to deal with them.”

Sophy supposed that was true. He had nephews, after all. And it was certainly true that he had a devoted friend in the little boy down the street. Just this morning while George was in the shower, Jeremy had knocked on the front door to see if his friend George was there and ask if he could come out and play.

“Not yet,” Sophy had said, biting back a smile. “He’s supposed to take it easy awhile longer.”

Jeremy’s mother, who had come with him, apologized for disturbing them. “I told Jeremy it was too soon, but he wanted to check. We all feel terrible that George got hurt. He saved Jeremy’s life. If there’s anything we can do for him—”

Sophy shook her head. “He was happy to be there.” She knew that, however badly George had been hurt, that was certainly true.

He was, ever and always, responsible. Throwing himself in front of a truck was just another example of his determination to do whatever needed to be done.

And how could you argue with it? How could you say he shouldn’t do it?

You couldn’t.

All you could do was feel petty and ungrateful when he did it for you—which was exactly how Sophy felt. She turned away and stared out the window, trying to figure out how to explain him to Lily when she would have bare minutes to do so. She still didn’t have any good plan by the time they arrived at the airport.

Fortunately their timing was good and as they were ap
proaching the terminal, she had a call on her mobile phone from Natalie saying that they had landed.

“Terrific,” Sophy said. “I’ll meet you at the baggage claim and George will wait with the driver.”

“George?” Sophy could hear the surprise in Natalie’s voice.

“Yes,” she said and hung up. “It’s too long a walk for you,” she told him. “You didn’t bring your crutches.”

She didn’t wait to hear any discussion. The minute the driver pulled up to the curb, she was out of the car and striding quickly toward the automatic doors. It took her only a few minutes to find the right luggage area and spy Natalie and Lily waiting for their bags.

“There you are!” she called, and at the sound of her voice, Lily turned, spotted her and came running.

“Mommy!” The little girl launched herself into Sophy’s arms and wrapped small arms around her mother’s neck in a fierce hug. “It was a long, long plane ride. I was good. Well, pretty good. Mostly good.”

Sophy buried her face in her daughter’s dark curls and breathed in the scent of fresh shampoo and warm child. Dear God, how she’d missed her baby.

“Mostly good, hmm?” she murmured. She gave Lily a multitude of small kisses, then glanced up inquiringly at Natalie, who grinned in response and gave her a thumbs-up.

“She was mostly super,” her cousin confirmed, keeping an eye out for the bags as she answered Sophy’s question. “Sometimes a little impatient. But she’s just been eager to get here. Ah, good. Here they come.”

She grabbed a weekender bag off the luggage carousel. “I didn’t need much because I’m going home tomorrow. But Lily, well—” Natalie shrugged and laughed as she wrestled another much larger bag onto the floor “—Lily thought she should come prepared.”

Sophy gaped at the huge bag. “Where did you get that?”

“It was Christo’s. He used it when he was a kid and flew back and forth between his mother in California and his dad in Brazil. He said he kept his life in this suitcase.”

“An’ now it’s mine. Christo said I could have it,” Lily told her eagerly, “so I could bring everything I need. An’ I did. I brought my books and my bear and my dolls and my building set and—”

“Good heavens,” Sophy murmured, looking askance at Natalie, who gave a helpless shrug.

“I didn’t figure George had toys,” Natalie offered.

“And some clothes,” Lily went on. “An’ I brought Chloe ’cause she wants to meet Gunnar.” Now she craned her neck and looked around eagerly. “Where is he?”

“He’s waiting back at the house. We couldn’t bring him to the airport,” Sophy told her daughter.

Lily’s lower lip jutted. “Why not?”

Before Sophy could answer, a voice came from behind her. “Because she brought me instead.”

She spun around.

George was right behind her, his gaze intent—and not directed at her at all. He was looking at Lily.

“I thought you were going to wait in the car.”

“No.”

“I said you didn’t need—” she started to protest, but George cut her off.

“Yes,” he said firmly. “I did.”

There was an urgency in his tone that made her look at him more closely. His eyes held a glitter of green fire as he added, “I wanted to.”

And in his voice she heard it again—the same urgent note, even though he was speaking quietly, his words almost getting lost in the vast noisy room full of people.

“I’ve waited a long time for this,” he said, his gaze meeting hers for a long moment before returning to focus on her daugh
ter. “I wasn’t waiting any longer.” Then his gaze softened and the corners of his mouth tipped up in a smile. “Hello, Lily.”

In the circle of her arms, Sophy felt her daughter stiffen at the sound of her name. Her eyes first narrowed with curiosity, then widened as she regarded him with a certain dawning awareness. “Daddy?”

The look on George’s face was all the answer she needed.

Suddenly the little girl began squirming so determinedly that Sophy nearly dropped her. “Lily!”

But Lily wasn’t listening. She flung out her arms to George and cried, “Daddy!”

Daddy.

George felt his throat close. And it had nothing—physically, at least—to do with his daughter’s stranglehold on his neck. He nearly stumbled as he caught her midleap from Sophy’s arms. But he steadied himself and drew her close as Lily’s little arms nearly choked him. She gave him a smacking kiss and wriggled closer still in his embrace.

“Ah, Lil.” He buried his face in her hair and simply breathed her in. He’d had her in his life such a short time that, after she was gone, he’d told himself he couldn’t possibly miss her that much.

It wasn’t true. He’d missed them both. He’d felt an emptiness inside him every single day.

“Daddy,” Lily was saying, pulling back away enough so that she could look up into his face and pat both his cheeks. She was grinning at him, claiming him.

George was happy to be claimed. He grinned back, his throat still too tight to begin to form words. So he reached up and stroked a hand through her hair, marveling at it. There was so much of it now, a curly glossy thick dark brown that had only been hinted at in the baby-fine hair she’d had the last time he’d held her and kissed the top of her head.

He leaned in and kissed it again now, savored its silky softness against his lips, then found himself blinking rapidly against suddenly watery eyes. He cleared his throat, too, and was relieved to find the constriction had eased, that he could probably talk without his voice breaking like a kid’s.

He secured Lily in one arm and held out a hand to Sophy’s cousin. “Hi. I’m George. You’re Natalie? Thanks for coming.” He smiled at her as he gave Lily a squeeze. “Thanks for bringing my girl.”

And yes, his voice almost did break on those last two words, but at least he got them out.

Sophy’s cousin smiled, too, taking his hand and looking at him with a mixture of avid curiosity and frank assessment. “Yes, I’m Natalie. I’m glad to meet you. At last.” There was a wealth of speculation in those added words. He supposed he didn’t blame her for them. He didn’t know what she knew, what Sophy had told her.

He’d avoided looking at Sophy since Lily had thrown herself into his arms. He’d heard her gasp as Lily’s leap had unbalanced the two of them, and her exhalation of relief when he caught Lily and steadied them both. But he didn’t want to see whatever raw emotion had been on her face at that moment.

He was too afraid he knew what it would be.

Now he slanted a glance her way. “Do you want to take her while I take her bag?” he offered.

She looked as if she would very much like that, but after a moment’s hesitation, she shook her head. “The bag is cumbersome. With your foot, it wouldn’t be easy for you. I’ll manage it, if you’ll take care of Lily.”

“You sure?” He was surprised and grateful, guessing how much it cost her. “Really, I can handle it.” He nodded again at the bag.

But Sophy shook her head and allowed him a fleeting smile, though her gaze slid away from his almost as soon as it connected. “No. Go ahead. I’m sure.”

“Can I ride on your shoulders?” Lily asked him.

Wordlessly, George swung her up onto them, trying not to wince at his muscles’ protest.

“Lily, he’s been hurt,” Sophy admonished her.

“It’s all right,” George said quickly. Not painful at all compared to what losing her had been like.

But Lily wasn’t convinced. She leaned down and tilted her head so she could look him in the eye from about two inches away. “You’re hurt?” She sounded worried and she stroked his hair as if she were comforting him.

“I’m fine,” George said. “I’m especially fine now,” he assured her, leaning nearer to kiss the tip of her nose, “because you’re here.”

Sophy watched them go.

She didn’t even breathe, just stood and stared as George strode off—doing his best not to limp, she noted—with Lily perched on his broad shoulders as comfortably as if she did it every day of the week, her fingers fisted in his hair.

It had to hurt. But George said no.

As Sophy watched, George glanced up at Lily and said something. Sophy saw his teeth flash white in a grin. And Lily gave a little bounce and nodded her head vigorously, then patted George’s hair.

“Well, she certainly has him wrapped around her little finger.” Natalie came to stand beside her, but her gaze—like Sophy’s—was on the two who were almost at the sliding doors.

“Looks like,” Sophy agreed, trying not to sound as disconcerted as she was feeling. She hefted Lily’s gargantuan bag and began to lug it after them.

“You’ll kill yourself doing that,” Natalie objected. “You take one handle and I’ll take the other.” She grabbed one away from Sophy and looped it over her shoulder, then started
forward, towing the weekender bag with her other hand. So Sophy did the same with the other handle and kept pace.

“He’s nice,” Natalie decided after a moment. “I like him.”

“You just met him,” Sophy said irritably. “Besides, I never said he’s not nice.”

“You said he broke your heart.”

Sophy wished she hadn’t. There was such a thing as too much honesty. Now she said, “I was just trying to warn you about Savas men. Warn you off Christo.”

“Lot of good that did,” Natalie said cheerfully.

Sophy grunted.

“Don’t be grumpy,” Natalie said. “It worked out all right in the end, didn’t it?”

“For you it did. But—”

“Exactly. For us it did,” Natalie agreed. “And maybe it will for you, too.”

“When did you change your name to Pollyanna?”

Natalie just laughed and shook her head, then nodded toward the two figures on the other side of the glass. They’d reached the car and George had swung her down to the ground. Immediately Lily fastened her arms around his leg and hung on. “She likes him,” Natalie pointed out.

“She was supposed to like Gunnar,” Sophy said plaintively as they reached the sliding doors which opened for them and they lugged the bag through it.

“She will,” Natalie said at once. Then her expression turned to one of commiseration. “I think she might like both of them, Soph.”

“Yeah.” That’s what Sophy was afraid of, too.

If Sophy was a bundle of contradictions, her daughter was an open book.

Lily knew what she liked—and didn’t like—and she said so. She liked the beach and the ocean and tall buildings.

“Like that one,” she said, pointing up at the one they were passing on their way back to his place. “An’ that one.” She jabbed her finger in the direction of another. “An’ I like to read stories an’ I like chocolate ice cream. But I don’t like butterscotch.” She turned in his lap so she could show him the horrible face she made.

George laughed and made a horrible face right back at her. She giggled and bumped her forehead against his chin.

“Lily, sit still,” Sophy said sharply.

George nearly said, “It’s all right,” because he had a grip on her and she wasn’t going to get hurt. But he didn’t want Lily to get the idea she could pit one of them against the other. So he said quietly, “Turn around. Look over there. Do you like horses?” he asked as the car came along Central Park South and a line of carriages and horses stood waiting to take tourists for a ride.

Lily turned, following the way he pointed, and bobbed her head eagerly, pointing, too. “Look, Mommy! Horses! Can we go for a ride? Please?”

George didn’t know how Sophy would answer that, and he didn’t wait to find out. “We can,” he said preemptively. “But not today. You’ve had a big day already today. We’ll go one day next week.”

“What day?” Lily asked. “Monday? Can we go Monday?” She looked at him avidly.

Out of the corner of his eye, George saw Sophy bite back a smile. In response he felt one creeping onto his own lips, knowing he’d asked for that one.

“Wednesday,” he told Lily. “Promise,” he added and held his hand out in front of her to make it official, wondering if four-year-old girls even knew how to shake.