The Billionaire's Bedside Manner (15 page)

Mateo headed for the cab stand.

Better that things had turned out the way they did.

Alex was on his tail. The sun was lying low, getting ready to set. The air was muggy. Stifling. Mateo was a whisker from ripping off his shirt.

“So admit it.”

Mateo looked at Alex, striding beside him. “Admit what?”

“That you were wrong.”

“Just did.”

“To
her.
”

“Sure. I suppose I could kick it off with something like… ‘Hey, Bailey, I was wondering if you could ever forgive me for being the world's biggest jerk.'”

Alex tugged his ear. “That's a start.”

Mateo confessed, “I found that message and—” What felt
like a sharpened pencil drove into his temple. Growling, he waved off the rest. “Ah, forget it.”

But Alex wasn't letting him off. “And what?”

Mateo stopped and studied his feet. His heart.

“And suddenly…I felt as if I had nothing. Was nothing. It's weird. I have so much. Too damn much. But where it counts…” He shut his eyes.
Oh God.
“I'm empty.”

“You don't have to be.”

Mateo's jaw shifted as his stomach sank more. “I never knew my biological parents.”

Alex rested his hand on his friend's shoulder. “You'd make a great father.”

“Bailey said that to me once.”

“She's a wise lady.”

“And I'm a jackass.”

“Not usually but in this instance…”

Mateo looked over. Alex was grinning.

He would've liked to smile back but he shrugged instead. “How do I fix this? What on earth do I say?”

“The sixty-four million dollar question.” Alex flagged down a cab. “The truth is always a good place to start.”

“J
ust shout if it's a bad time to drop in.”

Knowing that voice, feeling her heart instantly crash against her ribs, Bailey gathered herself in record time and turned to face her attractive, uninvited guest.

“Okay,” she said, devoid of emotion. “It's a bad time to drop in.”

She angled back to climb her building's first flight of stairs. Mateo Celeca was right there beside her, his arms out, offering to carry her grocery bags.

“I'll help with those,” he said.

Ignoring him, she kept climbing.

“Nice complex,” he said when they reached the first landing.

She leveled him a glare—
Go away!
—and went on walking.

“Nat said you handed in notice at the real estate agency,” he said.

She groaned and kept walking. “Whatever it is you've come to say, please, just say it.”

“I thought we could catch a coffee some place.”

“Thank you. No.”

She tackled the last of the stairs and crossed to her apartment's front door.

“Bailey, I want to say I'm sorry.”

His words hit her so hard she lost her breath. But apologies didn't make a difference in how she felt. She bolstered her resolve.

“Terrific.” She placed her bags on the ground, found her key and fit it in the lock. “Goodbye.”

“Also, I need to mention I was an idiot. I made assumptions and I shouldn't have.”

She bent to retrieve the bags, but he'd collected them and was already moving around her and inside. Her tongue burned to let loose and tell him to get out before she called security. But why not let him see how she lived now? He might need all his “stuff” but she certainly did not. Cozy suited her just fine.

“A bit different from what you're used to,” she said as he slid the bags on the modest kitchenette counter.

His brows knitted, he cast a glance around. “It's, ah, very clean.”

Then, as if she'd invited him to stay, he pulled out a stool. Not happening. Since speaking with her father—making amends there—she'd progressed by leaps and bounds this last week. New place, new job and new life on the way. She wasn't prepared to take a backward step now. She would not let her past feelings for Mateo hoodwink her into thinking for a moment “this” was anything other than over.

“I understand you must feel bad about what you said and even worse about how you acted. You should. But you've said
sorry. Hell, I'll even accept the apology. Now,” she fanned the door open, “have a nice life.”

Not quite a smile, his mouth tugged to one side. “You don't mean that.”

“Actually, I don't. But
I wish you nothing but happiness
would've been even harder to believe.”

A muscle leapt to life in his cheek as he pushed to his feet. By the time he'd strolled over, Bailey's pulse had climbed so high, she swore it hit a bell. But he didn't sweep her up into his arms and carry her away. He didn't even try to crowd her back against the wall and kiss her. He merely closed the door, then gestured for her to take a seat.

Holding her ground, Bailey crossed her arms.

“It's over, Mateo. I can spell it out for you if you like, but other than that, if you don't mind I have things to—”

She'd reached to turn the door handle. In an instant, his hot hand had covered hers and her gaze jumped to his, his face set and passionate. God help her, he'd never looked more handsome.

“Bailey, what we shared is a long way from over.”

Wrenching back, she moved well away. She didn't need to get that close to him. Didn't need to smell his musky scent. Feel that animal heat.

“Do you think that little of me?” She asked. “
Turn on the charm and she'll forget how I suggested she could be bought.
Dr. Celeca, you could be the richest, most powerful, best looking man in the world and it wouldn't make a scrap of difference as to how I feel about you now.”

“I understand.”

She looked at him sideways then blinked.

“Well…
good.
”

“From the moment we met,” he said, “I made assumptions. I was hard on you, suspicious. Not because of Mama and
Emilio. I'm sure I believed you on both counts near to the start.”

“So you made me feel like a felon because it rains on Tuesdays?”

A smile curved his lips as he prowled two steps nearer.

“I was hard on you because you made me look at myself. Not the doctor or investor or benefactor. At the
stripped down
me with absolutely nothing to hide behind. And,
Dio buono,
that scared me like you wouldn't believe.”

Breathing shallow, she rotated away.
I don't want to hear this. It won't make a difference.

“Before I met you,” he went on, “I knew what I wanted. Success. Security. If I had somewhere solid where I felt I belonged, I had everything I needed. But all the possessions in the world could never be enough because what I need can't be bought.”

She shrugged. “Take a bow.”

An arm wound around her waist but not firmly enough. She maneuvered out and held up both hands.

“This has gone on long enough. I'd like to say we could be friends but—”

“Dammit, Bailey, I want more than your friendship.”

He hadn't raised his voice but something in the timbre set her nerves jangling and her blood racing even faster.

“I know what you want,” she said. “But I'm happy the way I am. There are goals I want to accomplish and I want to achieve them my way.”

“There's no room for
our
way?” he asked.

She thought of her father's admission—of how her mother hadn't wanted his help when she'd needed it most—and a sliver of doubt pierced her armor.

“I've thought long and hard about this,” Mateo said, coming close again. “The way I see it, this is about trust. I needed to trust you. Now you need to trust me.”

She huffed and stepped back. “Sorry. Tried that.”

“And I let you down.”

“Damn right you did.”

“But love is about forgiveness.”

“No one mentioned
love.
” At least he hadn't.

“I have something for you.”

She lifted her brows at his change of subject. She guessed what his something was.

“I'm not interested in your big diamond ring, Mateo.”

“It's not a ring. I only hope you like it enough.” He reached into his trouser pocket and retrieved something small and gold.

Bailey's heart pounded as she gazed down at the Eiffel Tower trinket nestled in the palm of his hand. She couldn't help it. Her eyes misted over and she suddenly felt so weak…so
vulnerable.

“France was only a week out of our lives.”

“The most important week,” he said. “The week we fell in love. I love you, Bailey. You loved me then. I'm here because I need to know…do you love me still?”

She searched his eyes…searched her heart. The truth wasn't that simple.

“I don't know,” she said.

“Because I made a mistake.” Before she could answer, he went on. “An unbelievably huge mistake.” Pressing her lips together, she nodded. “Your father made mistakes too. You've made mistakes.”

“I don't know that I can forgive you that one.”

“I understand.” He stepped nearer. “I do.” His palm trailed her cheek, her chin. “I'd do anything to take it back.”

She closed her eyes to shut out the bitter sting and ache of emotion. “I never wanted your money.”

“I always wanted you.” A light kiss dropped on the side
of her mouth. “Marry me, Bailey. Be my wife. I need you in my life and you need me. Every day. Every night.”

“Because you love me.”

He groaned against her lips. “So much.”

“And because…”

His hand covered hers and the charm. “Because…?”

Overcome with emotion, finally beaten and glad of it, she gazed into his eyes and admitted.

“Because I love you.”

His eyes flashed a heartbeat before his mouth lowered and captured hers.

She was helpless to deny the pleasure, couldn't stop herself from pressing in. As one palm cradled the back of her head and his steaming hard body curled over hers, Bailey could only cling to his shoulder, grateful tears squeezing from her eyes, heart filled to overflowing.

When his lips reluctantly left hers, her head was spinning. But his smile, so close, and his hands, so warm, left her wonderfully anchored.

“Marry me,” he whispered.

Another tear slid down her cheek as she took a breath and surrendered. “Yes, Mateo,” she murmured. “I'll marry you. I want to be your wife.”

A tingling wave of desire and contentment spiraled through her as the man she couldn't help but adore—the soul mate she couldn't help but trust in—kissed her once more. Bailey held on, smiling…belonging…believing…

All the world lay in the palm of their hands.

M
ateo had decided this should be a surprise. Bailey argued; everyone liked to be given at least some notice before guests drop by. When he pulled up outside Ville Laube's Chapelle and Madame Garnier's face lit with amazement, then a group of children edged forward, he laughed and, leaning over, snatched a kiss from his beautiful bride's cheek.

“You see,” he said. “Sometimes it's good to be caught off guard.”

“I know someone who's going to be a little more than that.”

But they'd already agreed. Mateo would give Remy his gift in private. There were other bombshells to drop first.

As the new Dr. and Mrs. Celeca moved forward and the crowd of kids grew larger, someone in the tower rang the bell. Nichole Garnier was one of the first to meet them. Holding her face, she looked lost for words.

Mateo kissed both Madame's cheeks.

“I don't understand,” Nichole started. “We only said goodbye. How long are you staying?”

“A while.” He and Bailey shared a look.
A long while.

Mateo was about to explain when he caught sight of Remy, standing by the side, one mitten cupping his brow.

“Remy!” Mateo called out. “Come say hello.”

By now children were racing around them, hugging their guests' legs and singing as if school was out for a year.

Laughing too, Madame demanded to know. “Tell me! What are you doing here?”

“Bailey and I have decided to move to France permanently. There's still a mountain of forms to fill out and sign, but—”

“Mon dieu.”
Madame interrupted.
“Here?”

“Actually, over there.”

When he waved toward his cottage, Nichole failed to catch her yelp of delight.

Clairdy was there dancing around, first like a ballerina then a break dancer. Laughing, Bailey crouched down beside her little friend. “Do you understand, Clairdy?”

Nichole ran a hand over the little girl's head and spoke in French. Up to speed now, Clairdy's eyes sparkled before she cartwheeled away and back again. She was telling the other children.
Monsieur and Mademoiselle are married and living here with us!

Remy must have heard; he came running up, full speed. Mateo bent to catch his hare. The momentum swung them both halfway around. After the commotion settled enough, Mateo drew Remy away, out of others' earshot.

“I have some other news, Remy.” He held the boy's hand and continued to speak in French. “Bailey and I would like you to live with us.”

But Remy didn't react the way Mateo had hoped. His face filled with uncertainty and his wide eyes darted first right
then left. Frowning, Mateo shifted. He hadn't explained properly.

“Remy, if you want me to be your father…” He inhaled deeply and said the words he'd held back for too long. “I'd like you to be my son.”

But the boy's expression furrowed more. He looked as if he'd been given the biggest gift under the tree but for some reason couldn't open it.

With a knuckle, Mateo gently tipped up his chin. “What's wrong?”

“Monsieur, I cannot go.” The boy held a hand out to where his friend stood dancing with the others. “I cannot leave Clairdy behind.”

“You want Clairdy to come with us?” Mateo smiled. “To be your sister?”

“She will be good,” Remy promised. “She won't talk too much. I'll tell her.”

Mateo chuckled. “We've already thought about your Clairdy. If she'd like to join our little family, we'd love to have her.”

Remy gave a
yip!
then raced off to tell Clairdy the good news while Mateo raveled his wonderful wife into his arms.

“I'm thinking we need a dog. How about a Labradoodle?”

Bailey wrapped her arms around his neck and stole a kiss. “You remembered?”

“Why don't we name him after your father?”

“Damon the Labradoodle?” She nodded. “I like it. He can keep you and Remy company while you work on the cottage.”

“Yes. Another couple of rooms.”

“A cubbyhouse out back.”

Letting out a breath, he took in his surroundings…the majesty of the Chapelle surround by a pile of noisy children. “How strange that I should end up back here.”

“I think it's perfect. Well,
almost
perfect.” She stroked his cheek and spoke earnestly. “Mateo, now I have a surprise for you.”

She tilted her chin over his shoulder.

A man was walking up and for a moment Mateo thought he knew him…the hawkish nose, those kind, light gray eyes. Something unique about the way he walked. Mateo's mind wound back, further and faster. Absently he touched the scar on one side of his lip then shook his head slowly.

It couldn't be.

The name came out a threadbare croak.
“Henri?”

Upon him now, the man hugged him tight and then Mateo knew for certain. His childhood friend who had left all those years ago. Mateo never thought they'd see each other again.

“You are the same,” Henri said, laughing and clapping Mateo's shoulder.

Beaming, Mateo brushed the top of Henri's head. “You're taller!”

Henri's gaze hooked onto Bailey, her hands clasped under her chin. He exclaimed, “This is the lady we have to thank for finding and bringing us here.”

Mateo pinned Bailey with a curious look.

You did this?

Looking set to burst, she nodded. Now Mateo was the one lost for words.

“I hear you're married, Mateo. And after marriage,” Henri said, “comes children. I'm afraid you have some catching up to do.” Henri stepped aside. A woman with three children stood behind him. “My wife, Talli. These three rascals belong to us.”

The rascals, introduced as Mimi, Luc and Andre, asked if they could play then ran off to join in the other children's games while Nichole rushed inside to have more settings
placed for lunch. While Talli and Bailey chatted, Mateo and Henri caught up. Henri lived many miles from the Chapelle. His adoptive father had died and his adoptive mother married again. Change of name, a few changes of address. It made sense that Mateo's search for him had come up empty.

“Until Nichole and your beautiful wife put their heads together. They left no stone unturned.”

Mateo explained about Ernesto, his move to Australia and how he'd decided to give up his practice there to live and enjoy a simpler life here.

When Nichole called everyone in for lunch, Mateo held Bailey back.

“I have never been so surprised,” he told her as he brought her close and searched her adoring eyes. “Thank you.” And then he kissed her with all that his body and soul could give.

When their lips softly parted, he kept her near. He couldn't put into words how much he loved her. How her love had saved him.

Smiling, he shrugged. “You have given me
everything.
”

Bailey's heart glistened in her eyes as she replied in French, “Then,
mon amour,
we are even.”