Baby In My Arms Read online

  And he had to hand it to her, Kate McNair’s style was a double-whammy; she was resilient and persistent. The shooting episode had definitely frightened her, but she didn’t let it stand in the way of business as usual. And she didn’t take no for an answer.

  He listened as she got personnel managers on the phone and extolled the virtues of her placement service, not hanging up until she had an appointment. They were all scheduled for after the new year, though; no matter how persistent, she couldn’t fight the holidays. Apparently, Christmas was a lousy time for job placement.

  They’d had lunch—sandwiches ordered from the local deli—and Kate had taken a couple of long breaks to relieve Tina and bond with the baby. Only her quality time didn’t seem very effective. Through the closed office door, he’d heard Kate’s voice as she struggled to amuse the baby. The last effort, which included a bout of baby giggles and another of tears, was followed by silence. Nap time had evidently arrived, allowing Kate to return to her office and her phone.

  “Coral Lampiere, please.” Hearing only one side of the conversation, Ben easily imagined the other, which was obviously frustrating to Kate. She doodled on a pad as she listened, frowning.

  “So you have no idea when she’ll return? She didn’t tell you—” Interrupted, Kate pushed away a lock of red hair from her eyes and tried again. “It just seems strange that there’s no information—” Once again, she stopped midsentence. “Okay, I see. Thanks.”

  She hung up the phone and glared at it. “Happy holidays to you, too, you—” She stopped herself and looked up at Ben. “I’m usually not this volatile.” She laughed. “That’s what I told Amanda when her diaper bag got caught in the elevator! What a day. What a week. What a—” She stopped herself again. “You don’t want to hear.”

  Ben looked up from the computer screen with a smile. “I think I get the point. Christmas is playing havoc with your business.”

  “Not to mention my life.” She sighed. “Which impacts on my business.”

  There seemed to be a sense of humor hidden behind her problems, he thought.

  “I thought this last call would lead to an easy appointment. It was a sure thing. Carol, who now calls herself Coral—is an old friend, or at least an acquaintance. She owns Sky-High Spa, and she made a verbal commitment to me to restaff through ESS. She wanted to hire immediately, and now she’s gone. Out of town. Just like Amanda’s baby-sitter—they’re leaving me in droves!”

  “I’m sure it has nothing to do with you personally.”

  “Lord, I hope not. But I really hate missing that spa job. The place is a very popular spot, or so I hear. Do you belong to a workout club?”

  “Me?” Ben laughed. “No, I’m not into aerobics. Don’t have a leotard,” he added with a grin.

  “I suppose there’re plenty of gyms in Denver where men can wear sweats,” she retorted. “Sky-High Spa is for women, but I haven’t even been inside yet.”

  “She’s your old friend—”

  “Acquaintance,” Kate corrected.

  “And you’ve never been to the spa that you’re staffing for her?”

  “I closed the deal over lunch—or thought I did. So much for friendship.”

  “And for workout spas,” he said as he leaned back, his long legs stretched in front of him. He’d taken off the leather jacket, slung it over a chair and rolled up the sleeves of his dark flannel shirt. As if drawn by a magnet, her eyes focused on his forearms—sleek, smooth and muscular. Not satisfied with that view, she slid her gaze up to his shoulders and then to the sturdy column of his neck. It was obvious that Ben Blackeagle was in great shape.

  “I bet you work out, though,” she persisted. God, what was the matter with her, prying into his life and asking about his exercises? She sounded like a teenager with overactive hormones.

  “I’m a runner of sorts.”

  She knew it!

  “And I lift weights at home sometimes.”

  Kate smiled in satisfaction, particularly pleased that he didn’t seem irritated with her nosiness.

  But the conversation was at a standstill, and she couldn’t think of anything else to say. The room seemed very small, and Ben was very large. And close to her. She could see the slow, rhythmic movement of his chest as he breathed in and out. The afternoon sun gleamed on his black hair and coppery skin. He regarded her with one eyebrow raised, waiting for her to go on.

  She couldn’t. Something inside of her was going crazy, and Kate was having real trouble controlling it. What could she possibly be thinking, letting her imagination go so wild? She decided to stop the feelings before they got out of hand.

  “Tina,” she called, getting up and walking to the office door.

  As she disappeared, Ben watched, amused. A woman of impulse, he decided, who was definitely flustered. He let his mind dwell on her as she went through the door—the look of her, the shape of her. Damned good on both counts.

  When she returned, she was businesslike. Whatever he thought he’d seen in her look must have been imagined, Ben decided.

  “How’s it going?” she asked casually.

  “Almost done.”

  She sat behind her desk. “I have a feeling we made a good choice with Eagle Security. Is yours a family business?”

  “Hardly. I grew up on the reservation. No superhighway there.”

  “What kind of Indian—I mean Native American—are you?” She stumbled a little but recovered. “That is, what tribe, if it’s not a rude question.”

  “Not at all. I get asked all the time, and I’m proud to answer. My father was Arapaho, my mother Cheyenne and Irish.”

  “That’s so—exotic,” she said, feeling a little ridiculous. But she’d never met anyone of Native American heritage. “Cheyenne and Arapaho…”

  “You left out the Irish part. Don’t you think that’s exotic?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “Just kidding, Kate.” He looked at her with amusement in his dark eyes. “Now, if you have the time, I’ll show you how I’ve protected the computer system, the new way to log on and off and a few other changes. You might want to write some of this down.”

  “All of it,” she said. “Remember, I’m not any good at computer stuff—”

  “Yet,” he finished for her. “Soon you will be. Now sit here and let me show you what I’ve done.”

  As instructed, she sat at the terminal with Ben standing behind her, teacher and student. Yet it was much more than that. This was no classroom, and Ben Blackeagle was not an ordinary teacher. Not ordinary at all.

  As he leaned forward, his chest grazed her hair. She was very aware of him, so much so that she found it hard to concentrate on the screen and kept making mistakes.

  “Damn, how did I get back to the menu?” she asked, turning to look at him. “I meant to go to the next page,” she added, trying to catch her breath. She never should have turned around, not in these close quarters. She warned herself to keep looking straight at the screen, mistake or no mistake.

  “You hit F2 instead of F10.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Now I—”

  “F10 again,” he told her. “Remember?”

  “Yes, I’ve got it,” she said. But she didn’t “get it” at all; she was going nowhere. But each time she messed up, he was there to correct her, often moving her hand away and showing her the keys to strike with his long, lean fingers, urging her to make notes.

  She did. In a feeble handwriting, telling herself that the tenseness she felt was the result of the peril they’d experienced just a few hours before. Didn’t sharing a common danger heighten feelings between two people, bind them in some way?

  She made another mistake and the screen went blank. “I’ve lost everything,” she said, willing herself not to turn around and look at him but to concentrate on the screen—blank though it was—instead. She sat silently, feeling the warmth of his breath on her neck.

  “Remember the command?”

  She looked at her notes. “Co
ntrol Q?”

  “Right,” he said encouragingly.

  She tried the combination. Nothing happened. “Major mistake this time,” she said.

  “It’s my fault. I wasn’t paying attention,” he added. Which was the truth. He’d been watching but not concentrating, mesmerized instead by the scent of her, a faint whiff of an unidentifiable perfume. It filled his nostrils and was damned disconcerting. Add to that the graceful movement of her wrists, the faint click of her nails on the keys and that crazy red hair. A few shiny strands had come loose from her chignon and curled against the creamy skin of her neck as she bent forward over the keyboard. It was a very nice neck, Ben mused. Pale and silky looking.

  For one rash and improbable moment he wondered what would happen if he bent down and kissed it, ran his tongue lightly across the soft skin. Then he smiled wryly. Not enough sleep and too much excitement during the morning must have gotten to him.

  He pushed aside his fantasy with a sharp reprimand to remember his rule: never mix business with the pursuit of women. Those were very separate, although both important, components of his life.

  During his reverie, he’d automatically corrected her mistake and returned the document to the screen. She was working away on it, doing better, according to her exclamations.

  “I’m getting, it, Ben. Look, I saved, sent the document to the printer and exited—the right way.” She turned toward him and flashed a proud smile.

  The smile lit her eyes and brightened her face. She was pleased with herself, and the look of satisfaction was appealing and beguiling to him. He returned the smile and came damned close to giving her a congratulatory hug, which was definitely not part of the agenda.

  Instead, he straightened up, reminding himself that he wasn’t going to get involved. “Keep on working,” he said, a shade too brusquely. “I’ll go out and get Tina caught up on the changes. Shouldn’t take long.”

  She turned back to the keyboard. What had passed between them in that momentary flash when she looked back at him? Nothing but her imagination, Kate told herself. Or maybe he’d seen something in her eyes, an invitation that he’d reacted against. She never should have turned around again. It had made her too vulnerable.

  KATE WAS ON A ROLL, concentrating mightily and achieving all the goals Ben had set up for her without thinking about him at all. Except a few times. She went straight through until five o’clock, when Tina appeared in the doorway with Amanda in her arms.

  “I’m checking out, Kate. Ben’s finished with me. He’s taking care of a few glitches. And, as you can see, our baby’s awake.”

  “Okay, I’m done here, too. Thanks for your help, Tina.” She exited the computer and got up. “Maybe tomorrow will be easier,” she said hopefully, taking Amanda from Tina’s arms.

  “Got a baby-sitter yet?”

  “Nope, but I’ll make some more calls before I leave the office. Any ideas?”

  “Not a one. And don’t look at me.”

  “Of course not. You and I both have to work. But what about your sisters?”

  “Two in school, two working. Sorry.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll find someone.”

  “I hope so.” Tina headed for the door and then turned back for a parting shot. “In case you haven’t noticed, the baby’s wet.”

  “I noticed. See you tomorrow.” Holding Amanda at arm’s length, she grabbed the diaper bag from behind Tina’s desk—where Ben was bent over the terminal—and headed for the rest room.

  “Ready to leave?” he asked.

  “Nope. Just changing the baby. I plan to be around for another hour or so.”

  “Good,” he called after her. “That’ll give me time to run through these programs again before I shut down for the night.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Kate told him.

  She was glad he’d be staying. Even though it was just after five o’clock, an early-winter darkness had fallen, and Kate didn’t like the feeling of being alone. She hurried down the hall into the rest room, where she changed Amanda with the usual amount of awkwardness.

  At least she’d discovered disposable diapers with self-adhesive tabs and no longer poked herself—or Amanda—with safety pins. But she still had problems. Amanda kicked and bucked and squirmed more than usual, and Kate had to hold on to keep her from falling off the narrow ledge between the sink and the paper towel dispenser that served as a changing counter.

  “It’s not ideal, I know, Amanda. But it has to do for now, so be a good girl and stop kicking.”

  As usual, the advice had no effect. “I admit I’m no good at this motherhood bit so you have to be patient with me, and I’ll do the same for you—or try to.” Amanda blew her bangs out of her eyes as she leaned over, attempting to fasten the snaps on Amanda’s overalls. “Someone should invent another solution to this, maybe an outside zipper. Hey, that’s not a bad idea.”

  Amanda looked up at her with a pout that turned to a smile and Kate planted a kiss on her fat pink cheek. “I know it’s tough on you, too. Poor baby, you deserve a better mom.”

  “Ma-ma,” Amanda responded.

  Kate shook her head as she picked up the baby and went back down the hall toward her office. The elevators were quiet. Everyone had left on time—for parties or shopping, she imagined. Or a nice cozy dinner.

  Dinner! She had nothing at home to eat, not even a jar of baby food. “Sorry, Amanda,” she murmured. “We’ll have to stop by the grocery store on the way home.” She couldn’t seem to get it together—diapers, bottles, baby food, baby-sitters….

  Ben had shut down Tina’s system and was in Kate’s office, his eyes fixed on the computer screen.

  “Finding any problems?”

  “Nope. You’re secure. But this billing program’s a mess. Who set it up?”

  “I have no idea,” she replied.

  “There’re lots of easier ways to do it.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d consider—”

  “Nope. Security only. But I can suggest a couple of people—and there’s an excellent manual—”

  Kate shook her head. “Human beings work better for me.”

  “Well, this human’s all finished here.”

  “You’re ready to leave?” She tried to keep panic out of her voice.

  “Unless you have some other problems….”

  “None that I know of.”

  “I don’t anticipate any in the future.” He unwound himself from the chair. “Because I do good work,” he added with a lazy smile that was full of assurance.

  Kate made a quick decision. “Then let’s close up. I can make my other calls from home tonight.” She’d suddenly realized that she didn’t want to be left alone in the building. “Now where’d I put that snowsuit?” As she looked around, the baby squirmed in her arms with the backward jackknife that she seemed so fond of. “I wish she wouldn’t do that. She’s strong for her size, and one of these days she’s going to bolt right out of my arms.”

  “Babies know how to dominate and take advantage,” Ben agreed, holding out his arms to the baby.

  He hadn’t meant to do that. He’d meant to put on his jacket and leave, but Kate seemed so awkward and inept around the kid, something made him reach out. “Come here, Mandy. I’ll hold you while your mother—uh, Kate, gets your snowsuit.”

  “Da-da,” Amanda gurgled. “Da-da-da-da.”

  “Not on your life,” he said with a laugh, taking the baby expertly in his grasp and then tossing her into the air.

  Amanda laughed hysterically and let out another stream of da-das. With the baby occupied, Kate made a dash for the outer office and came back with the snowsuit. She dreaded trying to stick pudgy little legs that went as soft as cooked spaghetti into the pant legs. Maybe Ben would attempt it for her, she thought. If he was as good at clothing them as he was at playing with them….

  She wondered where he got the skills. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine a wife and kids, not for a guy who stayed out all night on “special projec
ts.” But you never knew.

  He’d positioned Amanda on his ankle and was playing some kind of horsey game, holding her hands and bouncing her on his foot. Amanda gurgled with delight. Kate leaned against the door, watching and wondering again how he knew so much about children. There was no point in asking; she’d never see him again. But she was curious.

  “Toss me the snowsuit,” he ordered. “I can get her into it.”

  With relief, Kate complied and stood by as he cajoled Amanda into the suit in what she considered record time. He was too good; she had to ask. “How come it’s so easy for you?”

  “Lots of practice with younger brothers and sisters. But don’t look at me,” he added quickly. “My child-care days are over.”

  Kate shook her head. “Why do you and Tina both think I’m trying to rope you into baby-sitting?”

  “Can’t imagine.” He pulled up the hood of Amanda’s snowsuit and looked up at Kate with a glint in his eye.

  “Well, I’m not. Tonight I’m getting on the phone and finding a suitable person for the job.” She gathered her take-home work, baby-sitter and child-care lists and stuffed everything into her briefcase.

  He pulled on his jacket. “I’ll walk you ladies to your car. Night comes quickly in winter.”

  “I’d appreciate that.” The dark outside was thick and unwelcoming, and she was glad to have company at least as far as her car. She slipped on her coat and picked up Amanda’s diaper bag and scattered toys. Finally ready, she held out her arms for the baby. “I can put her into the stroller,” she offered.

  Amanda’s mouth closed in a tight little circle, lower lip stuck out. “No,” she said, clutching at Ben’s collar.

  “I’d better carry her,” he said. “It’ll make things simpler.”

  Kate turned out the light and locked the office door. Simpler? Would her life ever be simple again?

  The air outside hit them like an icy knife. Kate tied Amanda’s hood securely and pulled up the collar of her coat. “Aren’t you cold?” she asked Ben, who was bareheaded and gloveless.