Spanish Lover

“Poor darling,” Cordelia soothed. “Somebody forgot to burp you. More comfortable now, honey?”

At that moment, a man strode hurriedly into the baby’s room. A tall, dark, very handsome and alluring man, who frowned when he saw the baby in Cordelia’s arms. Cordelia recognized him from the one, brief meeting she had had with him, when he engaged her to do his interiors. Luis Montoya de Cabrera.

He gave her an aloof, appraising glance, asking curtly, “What are you doing?”

Sounding far calmer than she felt, Cordelia said, “I’m Cordelia Dunleigh, your interior—”

He interrupted her imperiously. “I know who you are. I hired you not that long ago. Why are you here, is what I asked.”

“I heard her crying, so I came up to see what I could do to comfort her—”

“How do you know she’s a girl?” he asked, still sounding aloof and very wary.

Cordelia said softly, “I changed her diaper, she was soaking wet, poor baby. Anyway, she looks like a girl, I’d say she’s about five months?”

“Six. You’re not merely an interior designer—you moonlight as a paediatrician?”

Cordelia lifted her chin, refusing to respond to his disdainful mockery. She continued her soft patting of the baby’s back, murmuring soothingly to her, ignoring Luis Montoya completely.

He was astonished. Never before had a woman ignored him the way this young woman was doing now. When he realized she was not going to respond to his taunt, he continued—his tone gentling slightly, “My friend and his wife must’ve gone out. His wife was to take care of my daughter.”

Cordelia held on to her temper with difficulty. What a way to look after a small, helpless baby. As quietly as she could, she said,

“Well, your friend’s wife didn’t burp her, and that is essential after feeding her a bottle. Particularly since she seems small for her age. An un-burped baby is desperately uncomfortable. You’ll forgive me for saying this, but you are reputed to be rich. Why don’t you have a properly qualified nanny for your daughter?”