Baby for the Billionaire(78)



“You want me to read to you?” Jack asked. She nodded, leaning her head against his chest. Her halo of curls, still pillow-ruffled, were downy soft and seemed to have a mind of their own. A sudden memory came to him. “This is … this is Family Bed, isn’t it?” he asked gruffly.

She nodded and patted the book again. Before he could gather himself sufficiently to read, he heard Annalise shuffling in the general direction of his niece’s bedroom.

“Isabella? Madam? Hey, where is everyone?”

“She’s in here,” he called. “We’re all in here.”

Annalise appeared in the doorway, her curls as tumbled and ruffled as his niece’s. She pulled up short at the sight of all of them piled in his bed. “Oh,” she said, disconcerted. “There you are. What … what are you doing?”

“It’s Family Bed,” he offered.

She blinked at him in utter bewilderment. “What’s Family Bed?”

And he’d thought he’d been deprived. He wondered why she’d never experienced something so wondrous. What had her childhood been like that she’d never known the pleasure of curling up with her parents and siblings in one big bed? Even he, with his dearth of close family ties had, for one sweet summer, known the joy of Family Bed.

“Every Sunday my mother, stepfather, and Joanne would collect books and newspapers, coffee and juice, and spend the first couple of hours of the day in bed together.” He glanced down at his niece, tucked close to his side. “I gather Joanne continued the tradition.”

A wistful smile teased at the corners of Annalise’s mouth. “It sounds lovely.”

“Why don’t you join us?”

A sweeping flash of vulnerability betrayed her longing to do just that and made Jack think of a child with her nose pressed to the candy store window, always on the outside looking in. Never allowed a taste of heaven. He’d had close and personal experience with that particular emotion, having iced up his nose on that window on more than one occasion. Then her expression vanished as though it had never been, and he could only marvel at her self-control.

“I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to join you.” She edged toward the door. “I’ll just get breakfast started while you and Isabella enjoy reading together.”

“We can fix breakfast later on. Right now it’s time for Family Bed.” He nudged his niece. “Isn’t that right?”

She nodded eagerly and held out her arms to Annalise, who wavered, clearly torn between a desire to share in something she’d never encountered before and longed to experience, and maintaining a professional distance.

“Come on, Stefano. You’re needed here.”

He’d said the exact right thing. Her smile nearly blinded him as she approached the bed. He grabbed Madam by her collar and wrestled her toward the end of the mattress in order to give Annalise room. She slid beneath the covers next to Isabella and the three of them reclined side by side, against mounds of pillows. He opened the Mrs. Pennywinkle book and cleared his throat.

“‘It was a cold winter day when the magical china doll, Nancy, found her way to the next little girl who needed her …’” he began.

Beside him, his niece patted her doll’s back and hugged her closer. “Your doll looks just like the one in the book,” Annalise said in surprise. “Is … is she a Nancy doll?” At Isabella’s nod, a husky tone entered her voice. “No wonder she’s so special. Do you think she’s here to help you like the doll in your storybook?”

Again Isabella nodded, this time pointing to the dog. “You think your Nancy doll sent Madam to you?” Jack asked. When his niece nodded a third time, more emphatically, he exchanged an uneasy glance with Annalise. “Is this going to be a problem?”

“I don’t think so, not unless she starts to believe that her doll can grant wishes.”

“And if that’s what she already believes?”

“I don’t know,” Annalise admitted. “I guess we hope that with the proper amount of love and attention and counseling, she gradually realizes that isn’t the case. I have to admit, I’m a little out of my depth on this one.”

Isabella gave the book an impatient tap and Jack forced himself to relax and offer an apologetic smile. “Sorry, munchkin. I got distracted there. What do you say we start over?”

The next hour passed on wings, ending too soon as far as Jack was concerned. When his bed emptied out so that everyone could dress, so did the warmth, and he decided then and there that Family Bed would become a weekly ritual from this point forward. His cell phone rang just as Annalise herded Isabella toward the kitchen to whip up a batch of pancakes. He checked caller ID and connected the call.

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