One Kiss in... Paris: The Billionaire's Bedside Manner / Hired: Cinderella Chef / 72 Hours. Robyn Grady

she said in French.

      Mateo leaned down, hands on knees. “Will they need to cool first?”

      Clairdy put her hands on her hips and nodded solemnly at the oven before she told Eleanor two minutes longer and then the cookies needed to cool.

      Mateo ran a palm down Bailey’s back and whispered, “After the cookies, I’ll take you into town.”

      “Perhaps the girls would like to come.”

      His brows lifted. No doubt. But, “If we take these two, they’ll all want to go.”

      Bailey nodded earnestly, as Clairdy had done a moment ago, then said, “We could hire a bus.”

      He laughed. “Perhaps we could.”

      “How did things go with Nichole this morning?” she asked turning more toward him. Her blue eyes had never looked more vibrant.

      “We worked out an excursion schedule for next year. The older children will go first.”

      Bailey’s chin came down. “But no one will miss out.”

      “Everyone will get a trip,” he assured her.

      Happy with that, she maneuvered in front of him then wrapped his arms around her middle. Her head dropped back against his shoulder as she sighed and took in the industrious scene playing out before them. Eleanor was stepping into a fairy costume; Clairdy was handing her glittering silver wings.

      Bailey snuggled back more. “I like it here.”

      “The climate suits you.” He grazed his lips near her temple. “Brings out the pink in your cheeks.”

      “What about my lips?”

      Mateo’s physical responses climbed to red alert. With the children engrossed in their game, he pulled her around a cozy corner, gathered her snug against him and purposefully slanted his head over hers. She immediately melted against him, making him feel invincible … taller and stronger than that five-hundred-year-old oak. When their lips softly parted, he wanted to forget where they were and kiss her again.

      “It’s only early,” he murmured against her cheek. “Perhaps we should visit home before trekking off for lunch.”

      She dropped a lingering kiss on the side of his mouth. “Maybe we could stay here and eat with the kids.”

      Frowning, he pulled back. “Am I losing my charm?”

      A teasing glint lit her eyes. “Would that bother you?”

      “Only as far as you were concerned.”

      He cupped those pink cheeks and kissed her slowly, deeply, until all the world was only them and this embrace. She might have thought he was only flattering her but his last remark was sincere. Today, that other world—with its busy office and appointments and investments and antiques—wasn’t important. He wanted to think, and feel, only her.

      When his lips drew away a second time, her eyes remained closed. Leaning against the stone wall at her back, she hummed over a dreamy smile.

      “Perhaps we should stay here forever.”

      His stomach slowly twisted. Not because he disagreed but because as outlandish and flippant as her suggestion may be, he was attracted to the idea. As far as he and Bailey were concerned, this trip was supposed to be about nothing more than short-term companionship. Was meant to be about acting on physical attraction. This minute physical attraction was dangerously high … but he was feeling something more. Something new. And he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with it.

      A woman’s voice, emanating from around the corner, brought him back. It was one of the caregivers, the auburn-haired Madame Prideux. Bailey obviously heard too. Her dreamy look evaporated a second before she straightened her blouse and patted away the long bangs from her blushing face.

      “Is she looking for you?” Bailey whispered.

      “No. Eleanor. She wants her to wash up and come to the office.”

      “Is something wrong?”

      Mateo remembered Nichole’s comment about a child leaving.

      “My guess is,” he said, “that this is little Eleanor’s lucky day.”

      They came out from behind the corner. Eleanor was holding Madame Prideux’s hand as they walked together toward the main building. Clairdy sat by herself on a miniature kitchen chair. Mateo felt this little girl’s jumbled feelings as if they were his own.

      “Don’t worry, Clairdy,” Bailey said. “Monsieur says Eleanor isn’t in trouble.”

      Not understanding, Clairdy gave Bailey a blank look, let out a sigh then spoke in French. Bailey’s eyes widened at the words Mama and Papa. Clairdy knew Eleanor wasn’t in trouble. To Clairdy’s mind her friend was being rewarded for being the best little girl at the orphanage.

      Bailey lowered into the second tiny chair and spoke to Mateo. “Is she saying what I think she’s saying?”

      He nodded. “Nichole explained this morning that a couple, who’ve been waiting years, have jumped through the final hoop and obtained consent to adopt.”

      “Eleanor?”

      “It would appear so.”

      They both studied Clairdy watching her friend walk away toward a different tomorrow. And as Mateo’s gut buckled and throat grew thick, he was reminded again of all the reasons he loved coming back. And why he hated it too.

      Bailey gazed down at the little girl who a moment ago had been bubbling with life. Now Clairdy’s tiny jaw was slack and her shoulders were stooped. When she held her tummy and spoke to Mateo, Bailey guessed the ailment. The innocent she was, Clairdy would be happy for Eleanor finding a mother and a father—a mama and a papa—but how could she not also miss her friend? Likely envy her.

      “Does Eleanor get to say goodbye to her friends?” Bailey asked as they escorted a pale Clairdy back to the dorms.

      “I have no doubt.”

      “That’s something at least. Not that I’m unhappy for Eleanor,” Bailey hastened to add. “It just must be so hard on the ones left behind.” She examined Mateo’s intense expression as they walked. “But you know that better than me.”

      “There’ll be someone for Clairdy too one day.”

      She read his thoughts—for them all, I hope—and had to stop herself before she blurted out, I wish it could be me.

      But she’d known this child a couple of days. Even more obvious, she was in no position to think about children in that context and hadn’t before this moment. But the brave way Clairdy held her head as they strolled up the main path brought a stinging mist to Bailey’s eyes. She might have lost her mother but she’d known and loved her for fourteen beautiful years, and, as difficult to understand as he was, her father had never considered putting her up for adoption. Damon Ross cared about his daughter. These past years, he simply hadn’t been able to show it.

      They were all three entering the nurse’s office as Remy showed up, a scuffed football clamped under his arm. When they came out a few minutes later, Remy was still there, waiting to see how Clairdy was. Something older than his years shadowed that little boy’s eyes; he knew she needed a friend more than medicine. Remy said a few words to Mateo—something in French, of course. Mateo nodded and Remy took Clairdy’s hand and led her upstairs to the girls’ dorm to rest.

      They both watched until the pair disappeared around the top balustrade. Bailey let out a pent-up breath. She couldn’t stop thinking about what her mother would’ve done in this situation.

      “We could stay and read her a story,” she suggested and stepped toward the stairs, but Mateo’s hand on her arm held her gently back.

      “She might like to be alone with Remy now.”