Beverly Hills Dragons- The Complete Collection Page 23

  “Of course.” He touched her arm. “We had already talked about you moving in here, and I’m sure that was a very enticing benefit for you. You won’t have any room or board, and of course it makes your job as my assistant much easier. So don’t worry about it. You can still live here. It’s not as though there isn’t plenty of room.”

  Her heart crumpled in on itself at the realization that this was all about money for him. She shouldn’t have expected anything else from him. “I see.”

  “It’ll be fine,” he assured her. “I can tell you that I sure didn’t expect to have a child. But once you get a real nanny in here, then it’ll all be better. And of course, make sure you can get one who wants to be a live-in as well. It wouldn’t make much sense to have my assistant living here but not a nanny.” He rubbed his stomach and headed for the kitchen. “Is there anything to eat?”

  Courtney resisted the urge to pick up the vase on the coffee table and chuck it at him. He was so oblivious. Her shoulders sagged. She didn’t really expect him to understand; that wasn’t realistic. But she wondered if all of his time on movie sets had made him forget what real life was actually like.

  “I don’t know. I’m going to bed.” Any other time, Courtney might have gone into the kitchen with him, unable to get any rest until she knew for certain that he didn’t need her anymore. But there was no reason the man couldn’t make himself a damn sandwich, and she was too tired to even make one for herself.

  Upstairs, she cracked open the door at the end of the hall. It had been a large and luxurious guest bedroom, completely decked out with dark wood furniture and its own private bath. But the king-sized bed was unused, as the room’s occupant only took up a tiny corner of the space in a little white crib.

  Courtney crept across the lush carpet, careful not to make a sound as she checked on the tiny, sleeping form of Amanda. She was a gorgeous little thing, with soft cheeks and the rosiest little lips Courtney had ever seen. She might not have admitted it to anyone else, but despite the stress of everything, Courtney had been falling in love with her throughout the course of the day. The child was a challenge unlike anything she had ever encountered before, but it wasn’t one Courtney was ready to give up on yet.

  Slipping to the room next door, a random one that Courtney had chosen as her own for the moment, Courtney washed her face and changed into her pajamas. She was so tired, and she looked forward to slipping between the soft sheets. But as soon as her head hit the pillow, her mind started reeling once again.

  Even though she knew Amanda was sleeping soundly, she couldn’t help but listen constantly for the baby to wake up and start crying again. Her muscles were tense as she thought of it, knowing she would need to be ready to jump up at a moment’s notice. Somehow, she had missed ordering a baby monitor, and that was on her list of things to be delivered the next day. In fact, there were quite a few things still on that list. Courtney didn’t like to think that the baby had anything less than what she needed, and she vowed to remedy that as soon as she got up in the morning.

  Courtney rolled over, pulling the blankets up and forcing her eyes shut. She knew she needed her sleep, but it was as though the knowledge of that need was making her too anxious to sleep. Pulling in a deep breath, she searched for some peaceful thought or fantasy that she could focus on. Usually, this involved her finally going back to school. She would excel in all of her classes and graduate with honors. A prestigious law firm would be glad to take her on, and they would soon promote her to partner. After that, there was nothing to stop her from starting her own firm.

  Instead, though, her mind insisted on reverting to the past, bringing up all those long, sleepless nights in various foster homes. Someone had given up Amanda, missing out on the opportunity to be her mother. Granted, she had left the child with the father, and it wasn’t as though the baby was going to be stuck in the system as Courtney had been.

  Still, she deeply felt a hole in her heart knowing she’d never have a family of her own. Even if she eventually settled down, married and had children, she would always know that her parents weren’t around to share in her joys and sorrows. She would never be able to call her mother in the middle of the night and ask for advice on how to get the baby through an illness. Her father would never get to hold his grandchild and tell her how beautiful she was.

  A tear leaked through her eyelashes and soaked into the pillow. Stop it, Courtney, she chastised herself. You’re tougher than this, and it’s time to get over it. She rolled to her other side and forced herself to sleep while she could.

  Chapter Six

  Blane turned around to ask Courtney if she was going to make a sandwich as well, but she was already gone. He had never known her to disappear that fast unless he’d sent her off on a mission, and he paused for a moment in the kitchen as he tried to absorb it. “That baby must really have worn her out.”

  He pulled out sliced turkey, pepper jack cheese, a jar of mayo, and a bottle of mustard. Not one to just have a simple sandwich, he also grabbed the lettuce, a tomato, and some pickles. Piled on top of the artisan bread that Courtney always made sure to keep stocked in the pantry—even though Blane had no idea where she got it from—he had one hell of a sandwich in front of him. He ate it quickly, knowing that he should get to bed as well. It had been a long day, but it wasn’t long enough that he couldn’t sit down with a beer in front of the television for a moment.

  He settled into the leather sofa, looking forward to a little relaxation time. The late-night news was on when he flicked on the set. Blane was just about to change it when he realized they were talking about him.

  “The rumors have been spreading today about Blane Vinson,” said the reporter, a woman wearing too much red lipstick and shoulder pads that you could land a plane on. “The rising star, most recently seen in Destiny of Hearts, was attacked on the set of his new movie today.”

  Somehow, someone had managed to get footage of the security guards dragging Kimberly Dunn out of the studio gates. The station played this while the anchorwoman narrated. “Here, you’re seeing the former president of the Blane Vinson Fan Club, who snuck onto the set of the movie and reportedly attacked the actor.”

  Blane ran his hands down over his face. “What the hell?” he mumbled. “Do these people just follow me around all the time or something?”

  “This comes on the heels of the news that Mr. Vinson has a child,” the reporter added, confirming his fears. “The details aren’t known just yet, but stay tuned. Channel Eight news will bring them to you just as soon as they become available.”

  “Shit.” Blane turned off the television and downed the rest of his beer. He couldn’t sneeze without the entire country handing him a tissue. Most of the time, it was fine. He didn’t care if his fans were talking about what actress he had gone on a date with or that he had a different haircut. Somehow, though, this was different. It gave him an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach that he didn’t like.

  For a moment, Blane considered going for a flight. It wouldn’t be so hard to go upstairs and spread his wings on the balcony. If he went high enough, he could avoid most of the lights of the city. Blane had been very careful not to let anyone see him in his dragon form. There were some actors who were willing to do that for a little bit of pay, thinking it would jumpstart their careers. But Blane knew that acting while shifted was about the same as doing porn. If you did it once, it would haunt you for the rest of your career. Morphing into a dragon was a very intimate thing, and he didn’t need footage of that all over the news. Especially not right now.

  Just as he was about to go into the kitchen for a second beer, Blane heard an odd noise from somewhere in the house. He paused, trying to decipher what it was until he realized it was the baby. Instinctively, Blane jogged up the stairs, moving down the hall until he located the door that the crying was coming from. His hearing was excellent, even while wearing his human shape, and it only took a moment.

  Opening the door, Blane was surp
rised to see that a crib had been set up in the corner. It looked odd there amidst the expensive furniture some decorator he’d hired had brought in. Without turning on the light, Blane crossed the room and lifted the baby out of her tiny bed.

  “Hi, there,” he whispered awkwardly. “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t know what to do. But it sounds like Courtney has been taking care of you.”

  Her bright eyes shining even in the darkness, Amanda settled into his arms and calmed somewhat. She still fidgeted restlessly, though.

  “You’ve been lucky up until this point. Courtney knows how to do everything. Me, on the other hand? I don’t know jack.” Blane considered finding his assistant and getting her back up. He sure didn’t know what to do with the baby, after all. But having to manage on his own that day had made him think a lot about what she did for him. He could at least give it a try.

  Blane carried Amanda downstairs. “It’s too bad you’re not old enough to eat turkey sandwiches. I’m good at making those.” He headed back into the kitchen, all thoughts of that second beer disappearing.

  * * *

  It was after noon when Blane awoke. His neck hurt from being at such an awkward angle on the couch, and his feet were cold. He pulled a chenille afghan down from the back of the couch, rearranged the throw pillow, and attempted to get back to sleep.

  But the banging and heavy footsteps coming from upstairs weren’t going to let him slip back to dreamland anytime soon. He sat up and rubbed his eyes as Courtney came flying down the staircase, her hair a tangled mess. “Blane!” she yelled. “The baby’s gone!”

  “What?” he squinted, his eyelids heavy and sore from a lack of quality sleep. “Oh, no she’s not.”

  “I just checked her room,” Courtney insisted, pushing her thick locks back with one hand. “She’s not in her crib, and it’s not like she could have just rolled out. I looked through the whole room, just in case, but she isn’t there!”

  The panic on Courtney’s face was pitiful, especially since Blane knew the truth. It was enhanced by the fact that she wasn’t wearing any makeup. Blane had never seen her without it before, and he noticed the natural, dewy glow of her skin. “She’s fine. She’s right there.” He pointed across the room, almost behind where Courtney stood, to a bassinet decorated in white eyelet lace. “And you might want to keep it down. She’s finally getting a good nap in.”

  Courtney turned around and slowly walked toward the bassinet, peering inside with wonder. Her dark eyes turned to Blane, and then back to the baby. “You got her up?”

  “Well, she got me up, to be honest. But yeah, we’ve been hanging out today.” Blane had managed to slip upstairs long enough to change into an old t-shirt and some sweatpants, so at least he could be comfortable while he caught a few catnaps on the couch. Other than that, it had been all about Amanda.

  He crossed the room to look down at her. She was sleeping so peacefully, with no indication of the howling wails she could send up when she was upset. It still mystified him that he could have a child, but the sharp spikes that had erupted from Amanda’s forehead when she had been particularly angry at about three in the morning told him that she was definitely his.

  “And what about this?” Courtney fingered the frothy lace of the bassinet. “I didn’t order this. I was going to get one today.”

  “I had it delivered this morning,” Blane explained, still not taking his eyes off the child. “I got a few other things, too. I found the diapers and wipes and all the bottles, but I also got some blankets and burp cloths. And a car seat.” He thought about it for a moment, trying to remember what else he had done, but the lack of sleep was clouding his mind. “And I know it’s a little early, but I got a high chair, too.”

  Courtney’s pink lips were open in awe, and she continued to look from him to the baby and back again. “Really? You did all that?”

  Blane shrugged. “Sure. Why not? It needed to be done.” When Amanda had arrived on the doorstep the day before, he hadn’t known the first thing to do. But once he had been left alone with her—or at least he might as well have been, since Courtney was asleep—he had realized that he had to step up and do something. “Calling and ordering things isn’t all that hard. I imagine it’s a lot easier than if I had to actually take her to the store with me.”

  Courtney nodded, but then her eyes widened as they landed on the clock on the wall. “It’s almost two in the afternoon! You were supposed to be on the set hours ago!”

  Blane laughed. He couldn’t help himself.

  The dark look she shot him told him that she didn’t get the humor. “This isn’t funny, Blane! It’s serious!”

  “Okay,” he admitted, trying to settle himself down. But he started laughing all over again. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! You look like you want to hit me, and I don’t blame you. But you’ve got to admit it’s at least a little bit funny. You’re always the organized one. You’re always the one dragging me out of bed and shoving me out the door. But here you are at two in the afternoon in your pajamas, wondering where the baby is and trying to figure out where the new furniture came from. It’s a nice change of pace, if you ask me.”

  Shocked, Courtney looked down at herself. The silk camisole clung closely to her breasts and exposed the last inch of her flat stomach before the waistband of the matching tap shorts began. The outfit was no doubt comfortable to sleep in, but it didn’t leave much to the imagination. Her face reddened perceptibly. “I, um, I just grabbed what was clean at home…”

  “Don’t worry about it. Hell, go back to bed if you want to. I’ve got this. I think I might go make some eggs while she’s asleep. Of course, she’ll probably wake up while I’m in the middle of it, but then I guess I’ll just teach her how to cook.” He smiled, surprised that he liked the idea of teaching something to a small child. Amanda was too young to actually learn any skills like that yet, but he was finding that his fatherly instincts were kicking in. They were also a lot stronger than he ever could have imagined.

  “You don’t need to do that. You’ve got to get dressed and get to work. I’ve got everything covered.” Courtney tried to push past him to the kitchen. “I’ll get some coffee going for you. I’m so sorry I slept in.”

  Blane laid a hand on her arm, turning her around. With the sight of her face flushed and her hair wild, his inner dragon shot a wave of heat through his core. “Courtney, you slept in because I could tell you needed it. I tried to wake you up earlier, when I couldn’t find any socks for her and her feet seemed cold. But you were dead to the world, and I knew you’d already had a busy day. I took your phone, and I unplugged the alarm clock.”

  What he didn’t say was that as she slept, he’d never seen her face looking so serene. In the two years she’d been working for him, Blane hadn’t seen Courtney do anything but work. She was either on the phone or running an errand, tracking down the right pair of pants that Blane needed for a movie premier or making arrangements for a new gardener when the former one retired. It showed him a new side of her, one that he thought had probably been hidden for far too long. What was the real Courtney like? Not the one that was a celebrity assistant, but the one with her own dreams and interests? But then Blane realized he’d stood over her bed for far too long, and he shouldn’t have been in there in the first place. He made sure she wouldn’t be disturbed and left, ready to face the day on his own.

  But the peaceful Courtney was nowhere to be found that afternoon. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, and she no longer seemed to care that she was so scantily clad in front of him. Her jaw hardened as she looked up at him. “You what?”

  “It’s okay,” he assured her. “I’ve already called Cameron and everything. They’re just going to shoot some different scenes today. It changes up his schedule a little bit, but he can make a few adjustments for his star.” She shot daggers at him and took a deep breath. “Don’t look at me like that!” he pleaded. “Everyone needs a sick day every now and then.”

  Courtney’s gaze
was murderous. “How dare you stop me from doing my job? Every single day, it’s been up to me to make sure things are taken care of for you. I do everything. Who gave you the right to say I just don’t have to do it today?” Her chest heaved under the thin layer of silk.

  Blane forced his eyes to stay level with hers. He hadn’t thought it would be a big deal to have her living there in his house, but already, he was questioning that decision. She was so warm and so close, and the way her breasts pushed against the delicate fabric made it difficult for him to concentrate on the matter at hand. “Why are you so pissed? I would have thought you’d be happy. You got to sleep in for a change instead of dragging my ass out of bed and pushing me out the door.”

  “Because that’s my job!” she gritted out through her teeth. She took a step forward and poked him in the chest. “You don’t get to make decisions for me.”

  Blane had been in a pretty good mood, despite the fact he’d only gotten a few scattered hours of sleep. He had been proud of himself for taking at least some part in Amanda’s life, even though he had yet to figure out who the mother was. But that good mood had quickly dissipated into something else. “Okay. First of all, don’t do that.”

  “What? This?” She poked him in the chest again. “You think you’re so special because you changed a diaper or picked out a car seat? Well good for you, Blane Vinson, but you don’t have to go acting like you’re God’s greatest gift to fatherhood. Oh no, I’m sorry. That’s what you do. You act.”

  “I said stop that.” Blane felt a deep heat forming in the pit of his chest again, a coal that threatened to turn into a flame. “I’m not acting like anything. I thought I was being nice.”