Her Little Secret, His Hidden Heir(41)

Even tonight, knowing the circumstances surrounding Vanessa’s return to Keller Manor and Eleanor’s obvious disdain for her, Marc’s brother and sister-in-law had treated her exactly the same as they had in the past. No sidelong glances or sharply pointed questions meant to put her on the spot or make her feel insecure, just friendly smiles and harmless banter.

That alone had helped to assuage some of Vanessa’s raw and rampaging nerves when she’d first walked into the opulent dining room. Of course, Eleanor had already been seated at the head of the table like a queen holding court—and her expression alone had made Vanessa feel like a bug under a microscope.

To Vanessa’s relief, her former mother-in-law had played fair through the soup and salad courses, keeping conversation light and impersonal. There were a couple of sticky moments while they enjoyed their entrees, but by the time dessert was being served, Eleanor dropped her semi-polite facade and began taking potshots at Vanessa as often as she thought she could get away with it. Some of them were direct, others more passive-aggressively delivered.

But this time, Marc actually stuck up for her—something he’d never done before, not with his mother. Possibly because in the past, Eleanor’s attacks had been much more subtle, and often reserved for moments when the two of them were alone so that no one else would witness her true hatred for her son’s wife.

Marc had grown up under Eleanor’s frosty disposition, so he was used to her testy personality and jagged barbs. Even though her mother-in-law’s malicious treatment had cut her to the quick, Vanessa truly believed that much of what Marc witnessed had gone straight over his head. He was like someone raised in the city, who wouldn’t be bothered by the sounds of round-the-clock street traffic the way someone would who’d been raised in the quietness of the country.

But tonight, Marc hadn’t let his mother’s not-so-subtle assaults slide by. He’d caught and responded to every one, always in Vanessa’s defense. And once dessert was finished, when Eleanor seemed to be working herself toward a full-blown attack, he’d announced that it had been a long day, wished his family good-night, and taken Vanessa’s hand to lead her out of the dining room.

She was almost giddy with relief and unaccustomed empowerment…and was still clutching his hand like a life preserver as they jogged upstairs side by side. She felt like she had when they’d first been dating, before the realities of being Mrs. Marcus Keller had settled around her and robbed her of her happiness.

Reaching the door to his suite, they were both smiling, and she was slightly out of breath. He put a finger to his lips, signaling for her to be quiet before he opened the door.

The fact that he had to remind her to be silent made her realize how close to giggling she was. Giggling. Like a twelve-year-old.

Biting back the strangled sound, she kept hold of Marc’s hand and followed him into the darkened sitting room. The maid-slash-nanny they’d left with Danny was sitting across the room from the crib, reading a magazine beneath the muted yellow glare of a single low-lit lamp. When she saw them, she closed the magazine and quickly rose to her feet.

“How was he?” Marc whispered.

“Just fine,” the young woman answered with a small smile. “He slept the entire time.”

Good news for a babysitter. Not such good news for parents who were looking forward to a full night’s sleep.

“That means he’ll be up in the middle of the night,” Vanessa whispered to no one in particular. And then to Marc, she said, “Prepare yourself for finally experiencing the true rigors of fatherhood.”

He flashed her a grin, his green eyes sparking with a blaze of heat that had nothing to do with parental exhilaration. “I’m looking forward to it.”

After slipping the young maid a couple of folded-up bills that Vanessa was sure Eleanor would disapprove of, he saw her out, then joined Vanessa at the side of Danny’s crib. His hand came up to rest on the small of her back, and she had to swallow a lump of emotion at the picture they must have made. Mother and father standing at the edge of their infant son’s crib, watching him sleep.

This was what she’d always imagined motherhood and family would be like. It’s what she’d wanted when she’d married Marc and they’d first started trying to get pregnant.

Funny how life never quite turned out the way you planned.

But this was nice, too. Maybe not ideal, maybe not the epitome of her adolescent dreams, but it still warmed her and made her heart swell inside her chest.

“I hope he’s not coming down with something,” she murmured, putting the back of her hand to Danny’s tiny forehead. He didn’t feel feverish, but one could never tell. “He doesn’t usually sleep this long.”

“He’s had a busy day,” Marc offered just as softly. “You’d be tired, too, if this were your first big trip since being born.”

She chuckled, then had to cover her mouth to keep from waking the baby. With a grin of his own, Marc grabbed her arm and tugged her toward the bedroom door.

Once they were safely inside, he twirled her around and pushed her up against the hard, flat panel, covering her mouth with his own. His arms on either side of her head boxed her in, his body pressing her flat and sending a flare of heat everywhere he touched.

For long minutes, he kissed her, their breaths mingling, his tongue thrusting, parrying, drawing her into his passionate duel. She lost her breath, her vision, her sanity, her entire world shrinking to the single pinprick of reality that was Marc’s solid embrace.