Cinderella's Secret Agent. Ingrid WeaverЧитать онлайн книгу.
“Because I didn’t name Delilah after you just to manipulate you into feeling responsible, and I sure wasn’t looking for money—”
“Maggie, I never thought you were like that,” he said. “I feel privileged to be part of Delilah’s life. Believe me, what you’ve given me is far more valuable than anything I could offer you.”
How did he always know exactly the right thing to say? she wondered. “Thanks, Del.”
“I’m the one who should be thanking you. I do a lot of traveling because of my work, so I don’t see much of my nephews and nieces back in Missouri. I’m only in New York temporarily, too, but while I’m here, I’d really like the chance to be Delilah’s honorary uncle. And your friend.”
The roller coaster did another dip and swirl. A friend? Maggie thought. A friend was safe. And a man friend who was only here temporarily was even safer.
What was she worried about? Why was she fighting him? She wasn’t in danger of falling into the same trap with Del that she had with Alan. She wasn’t going to start mistaking her dreams for the real thing. This was a different situation altogether. Yes, it was.
“Thanks, Del,” she said softly. “I can use all the friends I can get.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he returned her smile. “All right. Since your hands are full, how about if I put that crib together before I go?”
“Well…”
“Trust me, I’m good at putting things together. Or would you rather have me do the dishes instead?”
“No. Really. They don’t matter.”
“You’re right. I think having someplace for Delilah to sleep tonight is the priority.” Before she could voice another objection, he switched on a lamp and crossed the room. After a cursory inspection of the parts of the crib, he laid the pieces out on the floor and opened the small plastic package that contained the necessary hardware. “Do you have a screwdriver?”
“In the drawer beside the stove.”
It was probably only a trick of the lighting combined with the pesky moisture that kept filling her eyes, she decided. Yet as Del progressed with his task, Maggie couldn’t help noticing how the lingering dampness on his shirt and pants reflected the lamplight with a gleam that was almost metallic, almost like…like armor. Shining armor.
Maggie pressed her cheek against the top of Delilah’s wispy curls, unsure whether to laugh or cry.
Chapter 4
“These pictures are great, Del! Oh, look at this one. You caught the way Delilah wrinkles her nose.” Maggie tilted her head, smiling as she examined the photograph.
“She takes a good picture.”
“Well, so do you. Literally, I mean. You have a real knack with that camera of yours.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
She looked at the next one. “Ooh, she’s blowing a bubble here.”
He folded his arms on the back of the rocking chair and leaned forward to look over her shoulder. “Yeah. That’s a cute one, isn’t it?”
“They’re all cute,” she said. “Each and every one. It’s weird, isn’t it? If I want to look at her, all I need to do is walk into the bedroom and glance down at the crib, but I can’t get enough of these pictures.”
“That’s understandable. She’s changed a lot since you brought her home.”
“You’re not kidding. Two weeks old today, and she’s already gained ten ounces,” she said proudly, shuffling through the stack of photographs. “Wait a minute. Where’s the picture I took?”
“Which one was that?”
She twisted around to look at him. “The one with you holding Delilah.”
He hesitated a beat, then shrugged. “I guess it didn’t turn out.”
“Darn. That happened on the last two rolls, too.”
“My camera can be temperamental sometimes.”
“That’s downright…chivalrous of you to say, Del,” Maggie said, her lips quirking. “But I guess photography isn’t one of my talents.”
“Well, you’re doing a great job with Delilah.”
“That’s not a job, that’s a joy.” She turned back to look at the photographs, starting through them again. “And speaking of joy, can you believe she’s still asleep? That’s almost two hours.”
“A new record?”
“You bet.”
“What about you, Maggie? Did you manage to get any sleep last night?”
“Sure. I think.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders, squeezing the muscles above her collarbone in a gentle massage. “You think?”
At the feel of his long fingers working the stiffness from her shoulders, she groaned. “Oh, that feels good.”
“Why don’t you have a nap while I’m here? I can see to Delilah when she wakes up.”
She sighed, dropping her chin to her chest. “I don’t think you can, Del.”
“You taught me how to change her diaper. I believe I finally got the hang of those little sticky tabs now.”
“Mmm.”
He found a knot at the side of her neck and pressed firmly with his thumbs. “Is that better?”
“Mmm.” She exhaled slowly. He had wonderful hands, large yet gentle, thoroughly masculine. And he’d been adept when it came to manipulating the tiny fastenings of Delilah’s clothing—his fingers were remarkably nimble. “You wouldn’t have any trouble changing Delilah’s diaper, but there are some things you can’t do for her.”
“I’m a quick study. If you show me how—”
“Del,” she interrupted with a smile. She gestured toward her bosom. “You don’t have the equipment.”
He stilled for a moment, then chuckled and resumed the massage. “You got me there.”
“This feels heavenly,” she said, rolling her head.
“Part of the trouble with staying up all night is getting overtired. Your brain is too wound up to let your body relax and get the rest it needs.”
“You sound as if you’ve had your share of sleepless nights.”
He rubbed the heels of his hands in slow circles at the top of her spine. “A few.”
“What do you do to relax?”
“I exercise to work off tension.”
“Ugh.”
“With me, though, it’s coffee rather than a baby that keeps me awake.”
“Mmm, coffee,” she murmured. She leaned forward in the chair to give him better access to her back. “I have a vague memory of what coffee was like. I haven’t had any since last year. When I first got pregnant it made me nauseous. Now I can’t have it since the caffeine makes Delilah edgy. I’d be happy to make you some, though, as long as I can stand over the pot and inhale.”
“Don’t bother, Maggie. You should be relaxing while you can.”
She couldn’t argue with that, and she didn’t really want to. This impromptu back rub was bliss. It was because of those surplus hormones in her system, she decided, but she couldn’t recall feeling so sensitive to a friendly touch before. Del hadn’t touched her often, but each time he did, it had a strange effect. Today it