Mathilda reached out and squeezed Laila’s shoulder. “I would greatly appreciate it if you could keep this to yourself.”

  “Of course,” Laila said, still reeling from the shock of not being hollered at. “It’s none of my business anyway.”

  “You’re a good one,” Mathilda said gratefully, and gave her another squeeze.

  Bewildered, Laila just nodded and hurried away. At least, she thought to herself as the conversation replayed in her brain, shock had warded off the panic attack. The earlier restlessness was gone, and she mostly just felt tired and dazed.

  Maybe she was finally ready for that nap after all.

  8

  Before leaving New York, Marc had instructed his assistant to download the prospectuses of every company worth acquiring in the next year. It was the kind of deep research he rarely had time for anymore, and now, out here on the open ocean, he finally found himself with enough time on his hands to really get down into the nitty-gritty of acquisition.

  He was clicking through his notes on a company in Vietnam with some interesting ideas around social networking when his door burst open.

  “Hiding away, are we?” his mother chided as she strode into his room without knocking. She hefted Grayson higher on her shoulder, the better to lean in. “Big important man in here making deals, aye? I hope you treat the rest of your employees better than you treat that nanny of yours, Marcus, otherwise I’m going to wonder where I went wrong bringing you up. I had to order that poor girl to hand over the bairn and go take a nap. She may be a full-time nanny, but that doesn’t mean she’s not entitled to breaks, you know!”

  “Nanny?” he repeated stupidly. It took his brain several moments to realize that the person she was talking about was Laila. He felt a bit addled for not putting it together more quickly. Where did he think his mum had gotten Grayson from if not from Laila?

  Strange how he’d already stopped thinking of her as an employee. He thought of her as… Well, things he didn’t want to go over with his mother in the room, giving him that look. And that was probably his first mistake. He’d been letting his attraction to Laila cloud their relationship. It was good to have this reminder that she was his employee, first and foremost. It would be unethical of him to have any sort of relationship with her, and these feelings he had started to develop were completely inappropriate.

  He just wished that it hadn’t taken his mother’s skillful tongue lashing to remind him of this fact.

  “Mum,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and feeling for all the world like a schoolboy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “How’s Da?”

  As it always did, questioning her about his father’s health effectively knocked aside any other concern—a useful trick he’d learned for getting her off the warpath. She blinked and drew herself up a little straighter. “Do you mean how is your ill father faring after the two of you behaved like beasts at breakfast this morning?”

  Marc held his tongue, even though the urge to defend himself was overwhelming. “I am sorry that I left so abruptly,” he said, even though he really wasn’t that sorry at all. Not about that, anyway. He was deeply sorry for snapping at Laila…but thankfully, his mother didn’t know about that.

  His mother narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t buying it; he knew this based on years of experience. But for whatever reason, she decided to let it go. “I wanted to show you something,” she said.

  “And what is that?” Marc asked warily.

  She turned Grayson around in her arms and held him straight out. “Ready, lad?”

  As if to answer, the baby kicked his feet in the air.

  “Whee!” his mother trilled and spun the baby around in a circle above her head. Grayson let out a crazy belly laugh.

  Marc’s mouth fell open.

  Grayson had been nominally in his care for a few days now, but he hadn’t heard him laugh once. He hadn’t realized it could be such a sweet sound.

  His mother spun the baby around again and again, to the baby’s continuing delight, until finally she held him tight. “Ach, I’m sorry wee lad, me arms are about to give out.”

  She settled into the leather chair across from Marc’s desk with a sigh. Grayson patted the armrest with an inquisitive frown, as if trying to discern its secrets. Which made Marc wonder something. “Mum, do babies remember?”

  His mother raised her eyebrows. “Well, I know that I don’t, but me memory isn’t what it used to be. Do you remember being a baby?” she asked in return.

  Marc shook his head. “Of course not, but I wasn’t sure if that was true of everyone or just me.”

  “Nay, lad, I am pretty certain they do not remember. Maybe from two years old, but nothing from when they’re this wee.”

  He nodded and then asked the question that had been weighing on him from the moment Laila showed up at his door. “So what do you do when a baby this small loses his parents? He’s got no memories of Remy and Kendra, and what would I even tell him if he asked me about them? That his father and I stole a tray of fruit cups from the university cafeteria?”

  “Eejit.” His mother sighed.

  “Right? That’s what I have to offer of his father, Mum. And what about his mother? What do I tell him, that I’ve only seen pictures? Grayson, your mother had a pretty smile? I didn’t even know her. It’s not enough for a child to hold on to. Nothing to give him a sense of his family’s history or his place in the world.” He leaned forward and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Surely his biological family could give him more to go on than that. That’s why I have my lawyers looking for them. I just think he would be better off with someone who can tell him more about his parents than what country club they belonged to.”

  His mother was trying not to frown. Her mouth flattened into a thin line, and he knew that she didn’t agree with him in the slightest but didn’t want to tell him what to do. His mother always believed that he should be allowed to make his own mistakes, and he was forever grateful to her for that.

  Rather than answer, she lifted Grayson up over her head again and he broke out into his wide, gummy smile. “I believe the little lad has a tooth coming in,” she cooed. “You’re being so brave about it too. Such a braw lad.”

  Marc couldn’t help but smile too. Seeing the baby happy certainly helped lighten his mood, but it didn’t change anything about Marc’s desire to find the boy’s blood family. They’d have photographs, memories, stories to share. And more than that, they’d know how to give the boy a real home—one where he could thrive. He wanted Grayson to keep smiling and laughing all the while he grew up, and he wouldn’t do that living with Marc. Bloody hell, he was barely home, he was notorious for having nothing in his fridge, and he even had to re-home houseplants because he’d neglected their care. “I had a woman named Philippa clean for me last year, Mum,” he told her, feeling the need to further justify his position. “It was last summer, and I wanted to have a small garden out on the balcony, but I could never find the time to take care of it. Everything died and Phillipa was so upset that she quit. She quit because she was horrified at how I neglected a garden. What would I do with a baby?”

  “Are you sure she quit over the garden, lad?” his mother deadpanned. “And not the state of your trousers?”

  “I’m serious,” Marc blurted. “Da has a point. I’ve never been the type to have kids.”

  His mother’s face clouded. “If you’re talking about that poor girl from university…”

  “Aye, of course I’m talking about Jocelyn,” Marc said with a sigh. “It all comes back to that, eh? If things had worked out differently, I could have a seven-year-old right now.”

  “The two of you weren’t even together,” his mother reiterated, half to herself.

  Marc nodded. “That’s right, but I was going to do the right thing. I’m not sure if she would have agreed to marry me, but I would have offered. When she miscarried…” He shook his head. “Mum, what type of person is happy about a miscarriage?”

  His mother sighed at this. “Marcus, there’s no denying your da was disappointed in you over that. We both were, but I’ve let it go. You’ve proven to me what kind of man you are, but your da, I dinnae ken why but he just can’t leave it be.”

  “Because he sees it as proof of every bad thing he’s ever thought of me,” Marc spat. “It doesn’t matter what I do, he’s still going to believe I’m the same irresponsible brat I was at uni.” Marc shook his head and wondered if his father was really wrong, all things considered.

  Look at how he’d treated Laila this morning.

  Grayson kicked his legs and let out an indignant squawk. “Ach, I bet the poor lad is hungry,” his mother said, sounding grateful for a reason to change the subject. “I’ll fetch him a bottle.”

  “The formula is in Laila’s room,” Marc said with a sigh.

  His mother gave him the same look she had given him when she first stormed into the room. “She’s having a well-deserved rest.”

  He nodded obediently. “I won’t ask her to do it,” he promised. “I can take care of getting him fed. You go check on Da.” He licked his lips. “I owe her an apology anyway.”

  “D’ya now?” his mother deadpanned.

  “Aye, that I do. I snapped at her earlier and she didn’t deserve it. I feel like a right git.”

  His mother chuckled softly and reached out to pat his cheek, just a little harder than necessary. “You be nice to that one,” she said again. “She’s something special, and you’re lucky she was available on such short notice. You hit the jackpot, my lad, d’ya ken?”

  “Aye.”

  His mother patted his cheek again, more roughly this time. “I mean it, Marcus, I have a sixth sense about these things. And I can tell there’s something between you two. Even if you’re too bloody stubborn to see it.”

  He ducked his head and took Grayson without a word because, aye, his mum was right.

  There was something there. He was attracted to Laila, probably more attracted to her than any other woman in recent memory. But attraction was not the issue here. If Laila were a girl he’d met at a bar or maybe even a bookstore, attraction would be everything. But she wasn’t. He’d hired her for a job, which put them in an extremely delicate place.

  And it was more than just his personal code of ethics at stake here. There was also the small matter of all that had gone wrong the last time he’d mixed business with pleasure.

  His mother had been very careful not to mention Sabine just now. But the ghost of that relationship—and how it had all gone so very wrong in the end—lurked in the corner, waiting to spring out the moment he let his guard down.

  Mixing a personal relationship into a business one had almost sabotaged the career he’d worked so hard to build. And he wasn’t about to make that same mistake with Laila.

  But he still was going to give her the rest of the day off. She deserved that, at least. After promising his mother over and over again that yes, he really was going to leave Laila be, she took her leave out of the back stairwell that connected to the outer deck. “Your da is probably out on the main deck,” she explained. “And between you and me, I could use a little sunshine before I see him again.”

  Marc stifled a laugh. “Better you than me,” he told her with a quick kiss to her cheek. “I’ve got my own fussy baby to care for.” He bounced Grayson in his arms. “Shall we find you some food? This way, then.” He strode across his office to open the door to the inner hallway.

  Laila dropped her hand back down again. “Oh, I was just about to knock,” she gasped. Then looked at Grayson in his arms and went as pale as a sheet.

  9

  “Hullo, there.” She knew that Marc was talking to her, but she could hardly hear him over the thump of panicked blood rushing in her ears. Or the din of grumpy sounding babbling and gurgling that Grayson was making now that he’d seen her.

  She held her arms out. “He’s hungry!” she explained to Marc as she tried to shush her charge. “Your mother offered to give me a break,” she tried to explain. “I know that it’s my job to care for him and that’s what you pay me for and everything, so I’m sorry for letting someone else take charge of him. I really shouldn’t have—”

  “Laila.” Marc’s fingers dusted across her arm. “I know what happened. Me mum was just here and explained everything. You didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, I would have been surprised if you’d been able to talk her out of it—my mum’s not one to back down once she’s set her mind on something.” He paused for a moment and watched Grayson calm down thanks to her shushing. “I’m not upset you needed a moment to yourself,” he said quietly. She looked up at him, but he avoided her eyes, keeping them trained on the baby in her arms as he continued. “If anything, I feel ashamed for not offering you one prior to now. Tending to a bairn day in and day out is a lot to handle—and you’ve been thrown into a strange place and an unusual situation on top of that. There’s nothing wrong with needing a wee bit of time to center yourself now and again. Being in the middle of the ocean can be incredibly claustrophobic.”

  Laila’s breath left her lungs in a rush. “Yes, that’s true. I wouldn’t think so, because there’s all this open space and sky but—”

  “But you can’t leave this small patch you’re stuck on.” Marc grinned ruefully. “I really do need to bloody sell this thing once this is over. I’m becoming less and less of a fan of the water, and you already know how much of a fan I was to begin with.”

  She smiled gratefully at him.

  He stretched his arms over his head. “And then there’s the small matter of who you’re trapped here with,” he went on. “They’re my family and I love them, but they’re too much for me at times. It’s not an accident that I live in New York City while most of them are back in Aberdeen, you know. You don’t even have the luxury of a shared history with them that includes happy memories of not wanting to run screaming from the room.”

  Laila tried valiantly to keep from laughing at this and failed.

  Marc grinned at her and stepped out of the doorway, then rested his hand on her shoulder. “The lad is hungry. Shall we walk toward the nearest bottle?”

  Grayson was starting to squirm again. “That’s a good idea,” Laila said faintly. Marc was acting much differently than he had this morning. From the way he kept looking at her and then darting his eyes away, it felt like he wanted to maybe clear the air between them.

  But there was the small matter of a grumbling infant to attend to first.

  She bounced Grayson all the way down to her stateroom, promising him as much food as he could handle if he could just make it the last few feet without dissolving into full-on sobs. Once inside, Marc held out his arms, and she handed him over and hurried to prepare the bottle. “His diaper is probably loaded too,” she fretted. “And since he’d already pissed off, I may as well deal with that now while the water heats up his bottle.”

  “How can I help?” Marc asked her as she wrestled Grayson onto the changing table.

  She told him how to test the water against his wrist, and then add two scoops of the formula. “Cover the little hole first,” she warned him as he made to shake the bottle to mix the water and powder together. “Otherwise everything is going to have little white spots on it, including you.”

  “Fair play,” Marc chuckled and did as instructed.

  Once she’d wrestled a new diaper onto the now furious Grayson, Marc handed her the bottle. “There now,” she told the baby as he latched on to the bottle. “Everything is okay, see? I promised you food and you have food.”

  Marc watched her sway as she fed the baby for a moment. “Would you like to take him up to the deck and get some sunshine?” he asked her.

  “That sounds lovely,” she agreed. “Just grab that little hat for him from over there,” she said, gesturing with a nod. “His skin can’t take too much direct sunlight.”

  “Does he need anything else?” Marc looked around the room. “Uh, his dummy? Pacifier, rather?”

  “That’s not a bad idea; he’s usually sleepy after he eats.” The fact that Marc seemed to want to spend time with Grayson, and was so concerned about seeing to his comfort, made her happy.

  And the fact that he was spending time with her in the process was definitely a nice bonus.

  Marc held the bottle steady while she got Grayson’s hat in place. Marc then carried the pacifier like it was a holy relic as they made their way up to the main deck. He helped her swing her legs into a deck chair without disturbing Grayson’s meal, and hovered close, watching them intently. Laila was acutely aware of how near to her he was. She could smell the hint of soap left on his sun-warmed skin, and she was close enough to see the spiral pattern of whiskers on his face. They glinted a burnished red-gold, and she wondered if his Scottish roots would be even more apparent if he ever let his beard grow in.

  Marc turned his face to hers, and she caught her breath. He was near enough that she’d only need to cross the space of a few centimeters to brush her lips against his.

  He seemed to be thinking the same thing, because his gaze dropped to her mouth, where it lingered hungrily for a moment.

  Then he visibly pulled himself together and leaned back in his chair. For a bit, the only sound was the water washing up against the side of the boat and the slurping noises of Grayson hungrily at work on his bottle. Finally, Marc looked away a moment and seemed to gather his courage. “I was a beast to you this morning,” he blurted out.

  Laila opened her mouth to object, and then found that she couldn’t because, honestly, he was right.

  “I am sorry for the way I’ve been acting. There’s no excuse for it.”

  Some of the tightness that had gripped her chest since this morning started to loosen. “It’s fine. Thank you for saying that, but I understand. I imagine a big family can drive you up the wall at times.”