Heart of the Raven (4 page)

The bell rang again. He shook his head and hurried out of the room, down the stairs. He glanced out the glass panel next to the door.

Eva. Holding a baby.

H
eath yanked open the door. His gaze went to the bundle in Eva's arms then to her face. Her eyes were blank, her hair straggly, her freckles prominent.

“Come in,” he urged her, picking up the diaper bag she'd set on the ground beside her. He looked over her shoulder and spotted her car. He hadn't heard her drive up, he'd been so soundly asleep.

He guided her toward the living room. She sat down gingerly. He took a seat beside her and waited, knowing he couldn't push her for information but wanting to yell at her,
Where have you been? Why did you worry me like that?

“It's a boy,” she said.

A tornado of emotion spun through him, fast and furious, destroying the walls of resistance built months
ago, obliterating uncertainty in one gigantic whirl. A boy. A son.

“Do you want to hold him?” Eva asked solemnly.

“Yes.” He rubbed his hands on his thighs then reached for the baby. The blanket fell away from his face and Heath looked at his son for the first time. He wriggled, pursed his lips and arched his back but didn't open his eyes. He had dark hair, a sweet pink face. Heath's eyes blurred as he dragged a finger lightly down his son's face. “He's perfect.” He reached to take Eva's hand. “Thank you.”

She stared at him for a long time, then she lifted her chin. “Do you want him?”

“Of course I want him. I've told you so all along.”

“I mean—” she pulled her hand free “—do you want to keep him yourself? Forever?”

His heart slammed against his sternum. “What?”

“If you do, I'll leave him here with you.”

“Why?”

“Do you or don't you?”

Heath tried to make sense of what she was doing. Why would she offer such a thing? Postpartum depression? If so, undoubtedly she would be back to claim her child.

But in the meantime, no one else would have his son. “I do,” he said simply.

“How much is he worth to you?”

Shock ripped through Heath. She was selling him? He didn't know her at all. He realized he
never
knew her.

My son is worth everything.
How could he place a dollar value on his own child? “I can write you a check for ten thousand right now. If you want more, you'll have to wait until the bank opens on Monday.”

“I'll take it.”

He hesitated. So little? She knew he could afford much more than that.

Something wasn't right. But when he looked at his son, the thought fled. “Will you sign a letter agreeing to my assuming full legal custody of him?”

“Sure, why not?”

He started to put his son in Eva's arms while he tended to business but realized he couldn't let go of him. “Come up to my office. We'll draft an agreement.”

He dictated the note as she typed it, her hands shaking, then they both signed it. He wrote out the check and gave it to her.

“You'd better not stop payment on this or I'll take him back,” she said coldly. “I only have to claim severe postpartum depression. Everyone will understand that.”

He was more concerned that the document wouldn't hold up in court. “Did you give him a name?”

“No.”

“When was he born?”

“Yesterday.”

“Yesterday? Shouldn't he still be in the hospital?”

“No.” She started to leave the room, her face ashen, legs wobbly.

“Eva,” he said, touching her shoulder. “You need to rest. Stay here. Sleep for a while. Have something to eat.”

“I can't.” Her eyes shifted to the baby, then she ducked her head and hurried out of the office and down the stairs. She flung open the front door and raced out.

“Wait!” he called, but she didn't stop. He tucked the
blanket more tightly around his son and followed her into the yard. “Where can I contact you?”

“There's a bottle in the diaper bag. You just have to warm it.” She got in her car and slammed the door, then she was gone.

He stood there until he could no longer hear her engine, then he walked back into the house. The baby made a noise. Heath pulled the blanket from his face and stood in the foyer staring at him. His son. His second chance.

He leaned over and kissed his tiny forehead. He felt dizzy, almost nauseated. He made his way into the living room and sat down to stare at the boy. Soon he started to fuss, then whimper, then cry. Heath dug through the diaper bag in search of a bottle.

He cried in earnest now. Heath didn't know whether to heat the tiny bottle in the microwave or—

He decided to run hot water into a bowl. It might take longer but it couldn't melt the nipple or anything.

While he waited for the bottle to warm, he walked the kitchen floor, whispering soothing words, holding his son close, bouncing him lightly. His cries got louder. Heath tested the milk. Not warm yet. He ran more hot water, then picked up the telephone. He glanced at the business card sitting on his kitchen counter.

Five-fifteen in the morning, he noticed as the phone was ringing. Would she mind?

“Hello?” she said, her voice layered with sleep, but trying not to show it.

“Cassie?” he said above the baby's cries.

“Heath? Is that—?”

“It's my son. Can you come over?”

 

Cassie waited anxiously at Heath's front door. The usual silence surrounded the house. No sound of a baby crying. No birds singing in the early dawn.

She prepared herself for meeting Eva, for being polite to the woman who'd caused Heath grief and worry on top of what he already lived with.

She prepared herself, too, for the fact she wouldn't see him after this. The issue was closed. She hadn't even had a chance to find the baby herself, to solve the case, to show him, frankly, how good she was at her job. She should be glad it was over. She
was
glad it was over, for Heath's sake, but he would be completely involved in his new life now.

Maybe Eva would even agree to marry him, and they could live together as a family. The baby deserved that opportunity. Eva should give it a chance.

The front door opened. His arms were empty. He should be smiling. He wasn't smiling.

“Thank you for coming,” he said, gesturing her in.

Cassie stepped across the threshold and into the foyer. The lights were on in the living room but Cassie saw no signs of the redheaded Eva.

“Where's the baby?”

“Asleep. In his basket.”

He led her toward the living room. She spotted a wicker bassinet on the coffee table.

“And Eva?”

“Gone.”

“Where?”

“I don't know.”

Cassie bent over the bassinet, saw that it was lined
with yellow gingham. “You don't— Oh! Oh, how sweet.” He was wrapped in a blue blanket, his tiny face barely visible. Her heart melted. She'd felt a bond with him from the moment she knew of his existence, her concern for his welfare her priority. Seeing him in person cemented everything.

She straightened. “What do you mean you don't know where she is?”

“She sold him to me for ten thousand dollars, then she left.”

It took her a second to comprehend what he'd just told her. “Seriously?”

“Signed, sealed and delivered.”

She sat on the sofa but kept her hand on the basket as Heath related what happened.

“What do you think?” she asked. “It sounds like she was emotional.”

“Definitely. But there are all kinds of emotions, Cassie. I can't pretend to know what she was feeling. I only know the truth of what's here in front of me—my son. He needs me to take care of him now, no matter what happens in the future.”

She looked into the bassinet as the baby stirred. “Yes. First things first.”

“I doubt the paper she signed will hold up in court.”

“I doubt it, too. But it's a start. You need to have him checked by a pediatrician. You need his birth certificate as soon as it's available. And he needs a name.” The baby's eyes opened. Cassie smiled at him. “You need a name, don't you, sweet pea?”

Heath lifted the baby out of the basket. “Daniel. Daniel Patrick.”

“That's nice. Is there some significance?”

“My father's name—before he turned hippie and started calling himself Journey.”

“You're the product of hippies?” Cassie laughed.

He didn't react, just stared at her for a few seconds, but she couldn't figure out why.

“It's the truth,” he said finally. “My mother calls herself Crystal. They live on a commune in New Hampshire.”

“Did you grow up there?”

“Yeah. I couldn't wait to go away to college.”

There was fondness in his voice, though, indicating he might have resented his upbringing then but not now.

“They're into macrobiotic diets,” he added.

“That's grains and vegetables, isn't it?”

“It's cardboard.”

She smiled. “I like steak.”

“Me, too. And ordering in.”

Daniel started to fuss. Cassie clenched her hands. She wanted to hold him, but Heath hadn't offered, so she leaned close and sang. “The itsy bitsy spider—”

“Don't.”

Startled at his vehement tone, Cassie sat back. The baby wailed. “Don't what?”

“Sing.” He bounced Daniel.

“Why not? Babies love singing. It calms them.”

“I don't have to explain myself.” He tried to shush the baby, who had worked up a full head of steam.

Cassie wondered about Heath's sanity. Or was he just stressed over everything that had just happened? “Maybe he's hungry,” she offered.

“He had a bottle right before you got here.”

“Maybe he needs a diaper change. Do you want me
to check?” When he didn't answer, she looked straight at him. He's afraid to trust me, she realized. He's probably afraid to trust anyone. “I'll take good care of him,” she said gently.

He stared at her for at least ten seconds. “Yeah. Okay.”

The exchange was a little awkward, but soon Daniel was settled in her arms like he belonged there.

Like he belonged there.

Cassie didn't question the feeling. She blinked back tears as love for this total stranger flooded her. This helpless little boy whose mother abandoned him and whose father wanted to do the right thing, but who needed to open up his heart and soul again. Learn to laugh and live life. Go back into the world. Daniel should not grow up a hermit, just because his father chose to be one.

“Do you have diapers?” she asked.

“In the nursery. Follow me.” He led her across the foyer into a yellow bedroom so bright and sunny that it seemed like something out of a fantasy, not a room in this gloomy house.

“This is nice,” she said. “Did Eva help you put the room together?”

“No. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

She set Daniel on the changing table. Careful not to disturb his cord she changed a very wet diaper for a dry one, then wrapped him up again. Still he fussed. She tucked him against her chest and swung back and forth. His cries grew quieter, then they stopped. He'd fallen asleep.

Heath had hovered over them like the protective father he was. “Where'd you learn about taking care of babies?”

“Here and there.”

“Baby-sitting?”

“In a manner of speaking. I spent a lot of time in foster homes. There were always babies to be tended.”

She felt his gaze intensify but ignored it. She'd never wanted sympathy for what she'd gone through. It was done. She'd moved on. So instead she sat in the rocking chair, satisfying her need to hold Daniel while also keeping him asleep with the motion. She looked around the room. “Do you have everything he needs?”

“Except formula. Eva brought ten bottles altogether, so I'm okay until the stores open. I'll have someone deliver it.”

He'd gotten too used to doing that, she realized. Letting the world come to him. It wasn't a good example for his son.

Plus he wouldn't let her sing to him.

“I need to hire a nanny,” he said, crouching in front of her.

“I imagine you do.”

“I could use your help finding one.”

“Me?” What did she know about hiring a nanny? “There are agencies for that. I can do background checks on the candidates, if you want, additional to the ones the agency does.”

“That would be great.” He rested a hand on Daniel's tiny body. “In the meantime, though, would you stay here and help me with him?”

“You know how to take care of a baby.”

He met her gaze. “I know he needs to be fed and changed and bathed. I've already fed him one bottle, but
there's more to baby care than heating up some formula and popping a bottle in his mouth.”

She looked into Daniel's innocent face. She would move heaven and earth for him. She wanted a home where he would thrive not just survive. She wanted to see that he got one, but she already had a dangerous and foolish attraction to Heath, and he had more problems than she wanted to take on.

And then there was the other issue, the big one—there was no way she could spend the night. He would know….

“I can't,” she said. “I'm sorry. I just can't.”

A
little while later, Cassie glanced at her watch as she unlocked her office door and stepped inside. Only ten o'clock. It seemed like hours later. She was still shaking from leaving Heath like that. Leaving Daniel. She'd wanted to stay. She couldn't stay. She'd never been so torn.

“Jamey?” she called. His car was parked outside.

“In my office,” he shouted.

She wandered down the hall and propped a shoulder against James Paladin's doorjamb. He wore khakis and a plaid shirt, the sleeves rolled up a few turns. His dark brown hair looked wet from a shower, his eyes friendly and inquisitive. “Here we are on another Saturday morning. No rest for the weary,” he said with a half smile and gesturing to the pile of paperwork on his desktop. “Did
you know when you took this job you would never get a day off?”

“Did you ever have a day off when you were a bounty hunter?” she parried.

“Touché. Anyway, thanks for coming in so quickly.”

She took a seat opposite his desk. “No problem. I was out and about anyway. Why'd you call? What's going on?”

“I got a call from Sam Remington.”

Sam was one of the big bosses, one of the three original owners of ARC Security & Investigations. He worked out of the LosAngeles branch. The fourth owner, Quinn Gerard, was her immediate supervisor, but Quinn was on a case out of town. “New case?” she asked.

“Sort of. For you, though, not me.”

“Why didn't Sam call me directly?”

“He did. He said your phone was turned off.”

Oh. Right. She'd turned it off until she got back into the city, figuring she would check messages later, not wanting to talk to Heath. Jamey had called the minute she'd turned it back on and asked her to meet him at the office.

“Anyway, here's the deal,” he said. “Sam's wife—”

“The good Senator Dana Sterling.”

“Yeah, well, Dana is friends with your newest client, Heath Raven.”

“Really?” She wondered how that happened? Obviously before he imprisoned himself. It struck her then what was going on. “No.” She sprang out of her chair, shook her head several times. “I am not playing nanny for Mr. Raven.”

“Apparently you are. Orders from the boss.”

“He went over my head,” she said in disbelief. “I told him no and he went over my head. That…that—” She couldn't come up with a word to finish her thought. How dare he put her on the spot like that?

Okay. He wants to be play hard ball, she'll play with him. She would protect his baby, protect him from a mother cruel enough to run away, leaving the father wondering and waiting for days and then abandoning them both, but she also would cushion Daniel from a father who didn't have any joy to give to a child. Cassie had lived without joy. She would make sure Daniel didn't, at least for as long as she was living in that house.

Jamey leaned forward. “I've seen that look before, Cass.”

“What look is that?” She stuffed her hands in her pockets, avoiding making eye contact.

“Mutinous. He's the client. He's paying the bill. You need to rein in.”

“I'll do what I'm expected to do. He won't have any complaints about that. Someone needs to protect that baby.”

He came up beside her. “Be careful, Cass. You can't save the whole world.”

“What does that mean?”

“You're a crusader, and sometimes that's a good thing. But you could end up hurt if you don't win this battle.”

“You're an expert on me now?”

“Yeah. I think I am. Something wrong with that?”

They stood almost toe to toe. It wasn't a confrontational moment but a revealing one. Cassie knew her own strengths and weaknesses, her own virtues and flaws.

“No,” she said at last. “One of these days we'll have a little chat about you. I've got you pegged, too.”

He laughed. “I'm sure you have. Listen, give me a call if there's anything I can do. Or if you need a shoulder to cry on. Or if Mr. Raven needs medical attention.”

She punched him lightly on the shoulder, grinned, then grabbed her briefcase. He laid a hand on her arm as she started to walk past him.

“Some people can't be saved, Cass,” he said, more serious than he'd been until then.

His words sent a chill through her. He'd seen too deeply into her. She was already a little obsessed with Heath, which was why she'd made herself leave. She recognized the signs, even though she'd never felt that way before, although maybe some of her obsession was that Heath came with a baby, a big lure for her.

“Keep in touch,” he said.

“I will.”

She felt his gaze on her, his concern, as she left the office. He and Quinn were like brothers to her instead of co-worker and boss.

But brothers were often overprotective for little reason, too. Not that she'd had any experience with brothers, but she'd heard it was true. Still, it was nice having people looking out for her.

 

Heath yanked open the front door for Cassie as she reached it.

“You pulled rank,” she all but yelled at him over Daniel's wails. “You pulled rank!”

“I'm taking care of my son the best way I know how.” Damn but she was glorious. Color in her face, fire
in her eyes. She'd laughed earlier when he'd told her about his hippie parents, and he'd been startled by how the sound had affected him, lightening his dark world. But this Cassie, this furious Cassie, turned him on.

“I didn't know hermits enjoyed such lofty company,” she said, her eyes going to Danny constantly. He knew she wanted to hold him, to soothe his crying. “Senator Sterling is a friend of yours?”

“She and I go way back. And I'll use whatever contacts I need to if it helps my son.”

“You act like I'm a miracle worker— How long has he been crying like that?” she asked, exasperated.

He had her. “An hour. He doesn't want a bottle.”

“Did you buy pacifiers?” She reached for the baby. He gave him up much more willingly than the other time. He couldn't take another minute of the noise.

“No.”

“We need some. You can get the stuff out of my car. Please.” She tossed him her keys.

He decided the
please
was an afterthought to him as a client, not a man. He didn't want to be treated as a client. The natural Cassie brought life into his house. The investigator Cassie would be too cool, too competent.

“I doubt I can do anything different with Daniel, but I can give you a break, anyway,” she said grudgingly.

He relaxed. Just having her there made a difference.

He folded his fingers around her keys. Get her stuff. To do that he would have to walk across the yard to the oak tree where her car was parked in the shade. He looked at the car, then at Cassie. He'd told her it was his choice to stay inside his house and that was true, but he'd gotten used to it, too.

“Lock it when you're done, okay?” Then she walked into the house, leaving him on his own.

Don't think about it. Just do it. Just do it.

Heath walked away then out the front door, not slowing for a second. He never took his eyes off her car. It was there, at the end of a long tunnel.
Focus. Focus. Keep your eyes on the car, on the goal. One step at a time. One victory at a time.

He tried to judge whether he could carry everything in one trip and decided he could. He hefted the briefcase, suitcase and garment bag, locked the car, then walked steadily but quickly back to the house, shut the door with his foot and resisted leaning against it. He just kept moving, up the stairs, down the hall, into the guest room. He dropped her suitcase on the bed and hung the garment bag in the closet, then he checked the adjoining bathroom. Towels, washcloth, soap, shampoo. Okay. She probably brought everything else she needed.

He hurried downstairs. She hadn't emerged from Daniel's room by the time he was done. The quiet opened up his mind again. No more distractions, just the realization of what he'd accomplished. He'd gone beyond the porch. He'd walked a hundred feet. And he was still breathing, although his skin was damp and his mouth dry.

Too early for a bourbon and water? he wondered. Yeah. Way too early.

He went to the nursery instead and stepped quietly in. The rocking chair moved rhythmically.

Peace came over Heath in a rush, a soft place to land after so many years of chaos. He made himself inhale the feeling the way a woman put her face into a bou
quet of roses, savoring, committing it to memory. He brushed his hand over his son's head, over the downy hair, the baby-warm skin. Daniel's dark blue eyes shifted sightlessly toward Heath. He sucked on Cassie's little finger like a pacifier.

She'd gotten him to stop crying almost instantly, he realized. He'd been too intent on going to the car to pay complete attention, but now he realized it hadn't taken her more than a minute to calm Daniel.

Cassie looked directly into Heath's eyes; her mouth widened into a leisurely smile—or was it a triumphant one? Damn but she would be nice to wake up with in the morning, all warm and sleepy, stretching her body under the sheet until it pulled away from her naked—

“Are you mad?” she asked, adjusting Daniel, sitting up a little more.

What kind of look had he had on his face? He'd wanted to kiss her, but to her he'd looked mad? Just as well, he decided. It was a complication they didn't need. “I'm not mad. Why would you think that?”

“You looked…I don't know. You looked upset.”

“No.” He held out his hands to take his son. “Thank you for quieting him.”

“My pleasure.” She stretched, just like he'd imagined she would, her long body arching, her nipples pressing against the fabric covering them.

A smart man—a man who learned from lessons gone wrong—wouldn't notice such things, but he apparently hadn't learned his lesson. He ached to take her breasts in his hands, to feel the hardness of her nipples and the softness of her flesh, to bury his face against her skin.

“Are you okay?” she asked, standing, crossing her arms as if she knew his thoughts. Her whole mood had changed. She didn't seem angry anymore. Maybe calming Daniel had done the same thing for her.

“I'm fine.”

“You got everything from my car?”

He nodded.

“How'd it feel?”

“Like you brought enough to stay a week.”

“I mean—” She stopped. “Another topic that's off-limits. Okay.”

“The pediatrician was here while you were gone,” he said, changing the subject altogether. “He said Daniel is in fine shape.”

“Must be nice to have your kind of connections. I don't know any doctors who make house calls these days.”

“We've been friends for years.” Jake Mercer had been Kyle's pediatrician, too. Heath had designed a house for Jake and his wife. Although Heath was known principally for his skyscrapers, he occasionally designed a house for someone special. “He wants to see Daniel in a week. Sooner if we have any problems.”

“Will you try to go to his office?”

“That's my plan.” They walked out of the room together but stopped outside the door and looked at each other.

“Where are we headed?” she asked.

“Damned if I know.”

“Well, maybe I should unpack.”

“Your room is upstairs, second door on the right.”
Across from mine.

She started up the stairs, but stopped. “I apologize for losing my temper.”

“No need to apologize. It was an honest reaction. I like honesty.”

“I felt like a kid on my first job, having the boss order me like that.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't know any other way to get you back here. I need you.”

Her entire demeanor changed. Magic words, apparently. It was only the truth.

“I'll unpack. Do we have groceries or should I go get some? I could fix steaks for dinner.”

Except for when his parents visited, no one ever made him dinner. He had guests over now and then, but he ordered in or sometimes they brought food. But having someone else in his kitchen, sharing the space, cleaning up together—it had been so long. “I've got steaks in the freezer. I called my parents to tell them the news,” he added as she reached the top of the stairs. “I expect they'll be out to visit at some point.”

“Maybe they could stay for a while, and you wouldn't need a nanny.”

“I don't plan to make them that comfortable.”

Cassie laughed as she walked away. The sound echoed in his big, empty house, filling it, lightening the gloom again. He looked at Daniel, who was still asleep in his arms. “I'm going to have to be very careful,” he whispered to his son. “She could be a hard habit to break. Have to be careful for her sake, too, don't you think? Or is that egotistical?” Was it? He thought he saw mutual interest, but maybe not. He had no doubt that Daniel was the draw for her, but maybe him, too, a little?

He resisted the temptation to follow her up the stairs, to talk to her while she put things away. He wondered about her life in foster care. Why had she been put there? Was the experience good or bad? Why had she chosen to become a private investigator? Was it tied to her past somehow?

Would she even answer those kinds of questions? He'd hired her to do a job. Anything beyond that—like fixing dinner, which he'd never expected her to do—was a bonus. He shouldn't do anything to risk her quitting before he got some of the legal issues dealt with and a nanny in place. If she got mad enough, she would find a way to quit, no matter what her boss said.

A nanny. He didn't want someone else living full-time in his house with him, but could he manage having only daytime help? Would Daniel be the kind of baby to sleep most of the night or be up?

It was something Heath needed to know before he hired someone, or even started interviewing. That could take a few days, at least.