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CHAPTER TWO

AS WHITNEY AND HER DAD left his office, Cyn caught his arm. “They need you in the conference room right now.”

“But I’m still working with the Andreas brothers—”

“The exact words Roger said were, ‘The Mahoney case is going to hell in a ham sandwich. The very second Gerry is out of his meeting we need him in here.’”

Whitney’s dad faced her. “Will you be okay?”

She forced a smile. “Yes. You go on. When the Andreas brothers are through with their little powwow, I’ll have you paged if we need you.”

“Thanks.” He kissed her cheek, slid the duffel and diaper bag onto her shoulder, turned and raced away from her.

Walking to her office, Whitney looked down at Gino. Sucking a green-and-brown camouflage-print pacifier, he peered up at her. Luminous dark eyes met hers. Her heart stumbled in her chest. Layla’s pale-blue eyes had been a combination of her father’s sky blue eyes and Whitney’s gray blue. Her hair had been yellow. Baby-fine. Wispy. Whitney had never been able to get a clip to hold and she’d become one of those moms who used multicolored cloth hair bands to decorate her baby’s head.

Her chest tightened. She’d give everything she had, everything she owned, every day of the rest of her life, for even one more chance to touch that wispy hair.

Gino spat out his pacifier and began to cry. Whitney set the baby carrier on the small floral-print sofa in the right-hand corner of her office.

“Don’t cry, sweetie,” she said automatically and her throat closed. Her chest tightened. Caring for a baby was something like riding a bike. Unfortunately, all the remembered skills also brought back memories of the baby she’d lost—

The nights she’d walked the floor when Layla was colicky. Her first birthday party when the abundance of guests had scared her. Bathing her, cuddling her, loving her.

Being her mom.

Don’t cry, sweetie.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to pull herself together, but Gino cried all the harder.

She sat on the sofa, lifted him from the carrier and cuddled him against her chest. Sobbing in earnest now, the little boy buried his face in her neck.

He smelled like baby lotion and felt as soft as feathers from an angel’s wings. She closed her eyes again, weakened by longings for her own baby. Remembering treasured events. The plans they’d had for Layla’s future. The mom she’d wanted to be.

Shaking with sorrow, she pushed at those memories, trying to get them out of her head. But they wouldn’t budge. Instead, they arched in her brain like a rainbow of photos, a cacophony of happy sounds. Baby giggles. Toddler laughs. First words. Mama. Da Da. Nanna. Pap Pap. Kitty.

She knew it was the sweet baby scents that caused her total recall. So she grabbed a blanket from the diaper bag and laid it on the sofa, then placed Gino on top, putting three feet of distance between them.

She swallowed. The memories receded. Her shaking subsided. The thumping of her heart slowed.

The little boy blinked at her.

“I know you’re probably scared,” she said, talking to him as if he were an adult because she couldn’t risk the baby talk that she knew would soothe him. “I know my mom was very good to you the past few days, but I’ll bet you miss your own mama …” She swallowed. Miss didn’t even halfway describe the feelings of loss this baby must feel. Even though he probably didn’t understand that his parents were dead, her heart broke because she did understand. She knew exactly what it felt like to lose the two people closest to her. He was alone. Scared. And wanted his mom. Or someone to make him feel safe again.

In three long years, she hadn’t felt safe. Everything she believed had been tossed in the air and come down in pieces the day her husband had committed suicide and killed their baby with him.

As she checked Gino’s diaper to see if that was why he was crying, a rush of memories of Layla flooded her brain again. Except this time they weren’t happy. This time, she heard her baby crying, calling for her, and suddenly she was face to face with her worst fear. The fear that morphed into guilt. The guilt her therapist had told her was pointless.

No one knew if Burn had deliberately put Layla into the car with him when he’d decided to kill himself by sitting in the vehicle while the garage filled with carbon monoxide. Speculation was that he’d put Layla into her car seat to go somewhere, but when he’d gotten behind the wheel he just couldn’t force himself out into the world. He’d sat in their garage long enough for the fumes to begin to get to him and was soon mentally too far gone to remember he had the baby with him.

That explanation had soothed everyone but Whitney. If everyone accepted that Burn’s depression and mounting mental illness were reason enough to forget he had their child in his car, then shouldn’t she have realized he was too sick to care for her baby?

Layla.

Why hadn’t she recognized Burn’s growing troubles?

Why hadn’t she protected her baby?

What had been so important in those months that she’d missed all the signs that Burn was tumbling over the edge?

Tears filled her eyes as Gino began to cry, drawing her back to the present. She wanted to cuddle him, to love him, but her memories of Layla were still morphing into memories of Burn’s suicide, Layla’s death and the horrible, horrible feelings of guilt.

She couldn’t deal with the guilt.

She changed Gino’s diaper but rather than hold him, she returned him to the baby carrier. He looked at her with sad dark eyes.

She blinked back tears, hoping for his sake that the trouble she had holding him was only temporary. It wasn’t his fault her family had died. Plus, Missy had wanted her to care for this little guy—

Remembering the envelope her dad had given her, she rose from the sofa to retrieve it from her jacket pocket. After fumbling with the seal, she pulled out the slim sheet of white stationery. Pacing in front of her sofa, she read …

Whitney …

It’s funny to be writing this because I don’t think you’ll ever read it. Actually, I hope you never do read it. But we’re having wills drawn up today and we have a baby. Plans have to be made for who will care for Gino just in case something happens. Stephone said he wanted Darius to have custody, but I didn’t think that was such a good idea. I know Darius will never marry and that means Gino will never have a mom. But I also recognized I couldn’t talk Stephone out of naming Darius as guardian. All I could do was suggest making you co-guardian. So that’s what we did. If something happens to me and Stephone, Darius will be Gino’s dad and you will be Gino’s mom.

Love him, Whitney. I’m not sure Darius knows how. Missy

Whitney swallowed and sank to the couch. The note was short and to the point. A mother’s simple plea. Love her baby. Because she wasn’t sure his older brother knew how to love. Hadn’t she already guessed that?

She glanced at Gino. The baby blinked at her dubiously. This little boy had gone from his parents’ home in Greece to Whitney’s parents’ home, and now he was being passed to her. It had undoubtedly frightened Gino to be passed from one set of strangers to the next. He had to get into a stable environment. She had to get him into a stable environment. Without her, there was no guarantee Gino wouldn’t be raised by nannies or at boarding school. Worse, there was no one to prevent Darius from seeing Gino more as a vote at a director’s meetings than as a baby.

She had to do this. She had to be a part of this little boy’s life. She had to care for him. She had to love him.

She popped the pacifier into Gino’s mouth again. “This has been a rough couple of days for you. But you’re safe now. I’m going to take good care of you.”

An arrow sliced into her heart. How could she promise she’d take good care of this little boy when she hadn’t even been able to protect her own child from her husband … the baby’s father?

Darius gave himself another minute to collect himself, then stepped into the hall and instructed the receptionist to let Attorney Ross know he was ready.

Pacing the rich red Oriental rug, he waited for Ross to return. When the side door opened, he spun toward it to see only Whitney enter. She held Gino in the basket-like carrier. A big duffel bag and a diaper bag were slung over her shoulder.

“I know I said I could begin working for you today, but I just realized there’s no one to care for Gino. Plus, I have no baby things at my home,” she announced casually as she stepped inside. “No crib, no high chair, no swing or rocker.”

Darius’s male senses perked up. Probably because he and Whitney were alone for the first time. He caught the scent of her perfume on the air, noticed her legs were long and shapely.

“I was thinking I should probably make arrangements to get all of that shipped to my apartment.”

Darius almost said, “Sure,” if only because his immediate reaction was to give her anything she wanted. But that was his attraction talking, agreeing so she’d like him. He had to resist that. He wanted this little boy in his life. He also needed Whitney to teach him how to be a father. The only way he could see that working out would be for her and the baby to live with him—at least for the first few weeks.

“I’ve been thinking about this deal and I’m not sure either one or the other of us taking him is the right thing to do.”

She blinked at him. “You want to leave him at a hotel?”

He chuckled, hoping she was joking. Surely she couldn’t think he was that inept. “No. I’m saying we need a plan.”

“We’ll hammer out an agreement of some sort eventually. But he needs somewhere to stay tonight. It’s already close to five and neither one of us owns a crib. We should also hire a nanny.” She caught his gaze. “Unless you’ve got baby experience I don’t know about.”

Heat whipped through him. This attraction wasn’t going to be easy to ignore. But he was a very strong man. “Actually, I’m going to need a little help getting accustomed to him.”

She turned away, fiddled with something in the diaper bag. “We both will in the beginning.”

Rats. She wasn’t getting what he was driving at. He didn’t want her to know just how baby-stupid he was, and he couldn’t tell her without putting himself at a disadvantage. He wasn’t accustomed to negotiating from anything less than a position of strength. But sometimes the best way to win an argument was to use the element of surprise. Just come right out and propose the ridiculous.

“Or we could live together.”

She spun to face him. “What?”

“Look, I inherited my father’s estate on Montauk. There’s a house big enough that we wouldn’t even have to run into each other. This way we’d both see the baby every day and we could discuss any issue that came up the minute it came up.”

She didn’t say anything. Darius wasn’t sure if he’d taken her so much by surprise that she was speechless or if his suggestion was so ridiculous she didn’t know how to respond. So he pushed on.

“It doesn’t have to be forever. Only the first few weeks. That way the little guy wouldn’t be shuffled from one of us to the other before he got to know either of us. Plus, we’d have servants. We wouldn’t be doing this on our own.”

Whitney surprised him by saying, “How many servants?”

He shrugged. “Well, if I remember correctly there are several maids. My dad also always had a cook. And an estate manager, Mrs. Tucker.”

Her expression went from strained to thoughtful to sort of happily surprised. Victory surged through him. But she hadn’t actually consented. The battle wasn’t over yet. He needed a deal sealer. Something that would put her totally on his side.

On impulse, he walked over to her and glanced down at the baby carrier. The brown-eyed boy blinked up at him over his pacifier.

“He’s cute.”

“He’s very cute.” She paused for a heartbeat then said, “Do you want to hold him?”

“Yeah. That’d be great.” How hard could it be? Not only was he trying to get on Whitney’s good side, but he had to be a dad to this kid. There was no time like the present to begin learning how.

She set the carrier on her father’s black leather sofa, unbuckled the strap that held Gino in and lifted him in front of her. Eye-to-eye with the baby, she said, “Gino, I’m giving you to your big brother.”

Darius laughed. “Was that an introduction?”

“No. That was me preparing him to be taken by a stranger.”

“He’ll know?”

Her gaze met his over the baby’s dark head. “Of course, he’ll know.”

Her eyes were the most wonderful color of gray-blue. A sort of sexy, yet innocent shade that sparked his attraction to life again. Something sharp and sweet stabbed him in his middle. He was wishing that he didn’t need her so he could follow this compelling urge he had to pursue her, when she presented Gino to him and fear immediately knocked every other thought out of his brain.

But before he had a chance to panic over his first-ever attempt at holding a baby, his hand brushed Whitney’s as she gave him the baby and pinpricks of awareness lit up his skin. He’d never felt an attraction this strong, this gripping. A warning stirred in his brain, but Whitney let go and suddenly Darius was supporting Gino’s full weight.

“Whoa!” He bobbled him a bit before he got control. “He’s heavier than I thought.”

Whitney smiled slightly. “Yes. Most six-month-olds aren’t quite that … sturdy.”

Feeling painfully awkward, but determined to get the hang of this, Darius laughed uncomfortably. “We are a family of big eaters.”

She looked away.

Not sure if she was totally disinterested in him and his family or uncomfortable at being so close to him, Darius casually said, “How about if we swing by your apartment and gather some things so we can spend the weekend in Montauk? My dad and Missy might have only popped by the house for a few weeks a year, but after Gino was born they had to have created a nursery. So at least he’ll have somewhere to sleep tonight. That way you can take a look around the place and see that I’m right. The house is big enough that we could live together for a few weeks without getting in each other’s way.”

Whitney’s skin pricked with fear, trepidation and possibility. She couldn’t picture herself alone with Gino tonight. Well, actually, she could. She saw herself paralyzed with grief as he lay in the crib sobbing. Darius’s suggestion that they spend the weekend together would have been the answer to a prayer, except he wouldn’t be any better with Gino than she was.

Of course, he had staff and eventually they’d hire a nanny.

Still, it could take weeks to hire someone. Especially since they had to find someone willing to go back and forth between her Soho loft and Darius’s estate. If they didn’t have a nanny tonight, there would be no hiding the fact that she was having trouble being around the little boy. Trouble holding him. Trouble smelling him. Trouble just being in the same room.

Of course, if she had a breakdown in front of Darius it might be bad for her, but it would be good for Gino, because at least there’d be someone to pick up the ball. No matter how inexperienced. With a few quick baby lessons she could probably turn Darius into a moderately competent caregiver.

As if to confirm that idea, Darius jiggled Gino on his arm, as he cooed and gooed at him, and Gino playfully slapped his face. They liked each other. They almost appeared to have some kind of natural family bond.

Blessed relief swelled through her. It wasn’t a perfect idea, but it was better than her being alone with Gino. In the name of teaching Darius how to do his part for the little boy, she could hand over most of the tasks that might cause her to burst into tears.

Plus he had staff. Gino would be surrounded by people who could care for him until they found a nanny. And if Whitney played it right, she wouldn’t even have to have a panic attack to get assistance. Gino was so adorable, every maid, cook and butler would want a turn at holding him, feeding him, rocking him to sleep.

She sucked in a breath, caught Darius’s gaze, and said, “Okay. We’ll spend the weekend at your house.”

He smiled at her, reminding her of the other teeny, tiny thing she’d forgotten to add into the equation. They were attracted. And about to live together.

Luckily, his house was huge. And she wasn’t stupid. She’d keep a cool head and everything would be fine.

CHAPTER THREE

ON THE DRIVE OUT TO Montauk, Darius called ahead to let the staff know they would be arriving.

Clicking off his call, he faced Whitney. “There’s a nursery.”

“Really? That’s great.”

“Yes. My father and Missy had been staying at the house when they were in the accident.”

Sadness tiptoed through her at the loss of her friend, but she focused on the job she had to do for Missy. “So there wouldn’t happen to be a nanny?”

“No. Their nanny was a young woman from Greece. She went home immediately after the funerals.”

“Too bad.”

He shrugged. “Not really. I’m sure we can easily hire someone.”

Whitney smiled noncommittally, then her gaze fell to Gino who was asleep in his car seat. She should have started Darius’s baby lessons the minute they got into the limo. She knew what to do and his hands could be the hands that carried out her instructions tonight. But now Gino was asleep and probably wouldn’t awaken until they arrived. And when he awakened, he’d be crying. Then Darius would see her struggle and fumble.

Sucking in a soft breath, she told herself not to borrow trouble. Everything would work out if she just kept a cool head.

The limo pulled up to an iron gate and the driver used a combination on a keypad to open it. As they drove up the wide, circular drive to get to the enormous house, Whitney’s heart kicked into overdrive. With bare tree branches blowing in the January breeze the estate had a cold, deserted feel to it. An ominous mood that almost made her shiver. And definitely made her wonder if this was the right choice. Darius Andreas was a stranger and she’d agreed to live with him.

Whitney unbuckled Gino as the driver opened the door. He helped her out and Darius stepped out behind her, then reached inside for the baby.

Refusing to panic or let her imagination run wild over the cold, empty feeling that surrounded her, Whitney followed him to the front door, where he hit a few buttons on a hidden security panel, then opened the door.

They walked onto white marble tile in the echoing foyer. A curved stairway led the way to the second floor. A huge crystal chandelier awakened with light when Darius hit the switch as an older woman wearing a tidy black suit walked into the foyer to greet them.

“This is Mrs. Tucker,” Darius said, turning to Whitney then Mrs. Tucker with a smile. “Mrs. T, this is Whitney. She’s Gerard Ross’s daughter.”

Mrs. Tucker nodded once. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

Whitney returned her smile. Though her parents hadn’t had servants while she was growing up, and she herself had never had anything more than a cleaning service, her parents now had a full staff for their home on Park Avenue. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too, Mrs. Tucker.”

“You’re in the guest suite in the right wing upstairs. Geoffrey will get your bags from the limo.”

“Thank you.”

Mrs. Tucker turned to leave, but a thought struck Whitney and she stopped her. “Where’s the nursery?”

“In the left wing beside the master suite and Mr. Andreas.”

“Will the nanny also be beside the nursery?”

“Yes, ma’am. The nanny’s quarters are on one side. Mr. Andreas’s are on the other.”

That just didn’t sit right. Not because of the unexpected jealousy that slithered through her at the thought of another woman being a door or two away from Darius’s bedroom, but because she felt as if she were being eased out. She hadn’t questioned Darius talking her into living at the house in Montauk. Her fears had actually caused her to be relieved he’d thought of it. But now that he’d assigned her to a room across the house from the nursery, suspicions rose in her. He wanted the baby at his house, wanted her at the other side of the mansion. What was he up to?

“Why am I not near the nursery?”

Holding Gino in the baby carrier, Darius stepped forward, caught her arm and directed her to the stairway as Mrs. Tucker scrambled away, obviously glad Darius would field the question.

“I thought you’d prefer privacy, particularly since Mrs. Tucker has agreed to sleep in the nanny’s room to help with Gino until we get a regular nanny.”

He sounded sincere, genuine. But this was a skilled negotiator, a smart businessman, a charming man. And her fears about caring for Gino had blinded her to the way he’d been calling the shots. That ended here. That ended now.

“Isn’t there another suite close to the nursery?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I’d like that one, then.”

Darius stopped walking. His black onyx eyes snared hers, she was sure, in a show of strength, ready to meet her challenge. But within seconds the expression in his dark orbs shifted from serious to sensuous.

As if he only now realized how close they were standing beside each other on the stairs, he pulled in a breath. Tension rose up, shimmering through her. This man was attracted to her. There was no better aphrodisiac for a woman than the realization that a powerful, sexy man wanted her.

Her.

And she’d just insisted she be in a room closer to the nursery, closer to him.

She almost told him to forget about her request for a room change, but knew that if she did he’d realize it was because of their attraction. She also remembered it was her responsibility to love Gino and maybe even to protect him from overbearing Darius, and by God, she intended to. If that meant she needed to be close to him too, she’d handle it.

She smiled, hoping to appear to be a woman who hadn’t even been slightly affected by the way he’d looked at her. “I take my responsibilities seriously, Darius. Though I’m glad Gino will be close to the nanny we hire, I want to be close too. The will says we share custody. I was given a job. I intend to do it.”

His serious eyes suddenly filled with mischief that sent her pulse scrambling. “So you want to be across the hall—” he smiled “—from me?”

She stared into his sexy dark eyes with every nerve ending in her body humming and the blood in her veins virtually singing. Her voice squeaked when she said, “Yes.”

“So be it. I’ll have Mrs. Tucker tell Geoffrey to put your things in the room across the hall from mine.”

With that he pulled out his cell phone, turned and walked up the stairs. Whitney nearly collapsed on the stairway. She heard him speaking on the phone, instructing someone to ready the room across the hall from his, and guessed he was talking to Mrs. Tucker. She hastily climbed the stairs with shaky legs and followed Darius to the nursery. But two steps inside the door, she froze.

A mobile over the cherrywood crib zapped her back in time. She could have been standing in Layla’s nursery. The colors of the wall were different, but most of the furniture and lots of the toys were the same. So were the scents.

Darius carried the baby inside. “I think he needs a change. I’d offer to do it,” he smiled engagingly, “but I’ve never changed a diaper in my entire life.”

Smothered by thoughts of her baby, Whitney couldn’t get her legs to move or her mouth to form words. Memories rolled through her mind. In perfect Technicolor she saw the vision of Layla standing up in her crib, holding the bars, crying for her mother. She remembered the Christmas gifts she had bought and hidden in the closet as if little Layla would somehow know to look for them. It had been almost a year before she had been able to clear out the nursery, if only because she couldn’t step inside without crumbling.

But Darius didn’t seem to notice her paralysis. Pulling Gino out of the baby carrier, he said, “I’d be happy to do it, though, if you want to teach me.”

Whitney cleared her throat. “Sure.” Relief swamped her. For as much as she didn’t want Darius taking over Gino’s life, with her grief perilously close to the surface she simply couldn’t handle touching Gino right now. Whether she liked it or not, take-charge Darius was saving her.

She glanced around until she saw the changing table. She pointed at it. “Take him over there.”

Darius carried the sleepy baby to the changing table.

Whitney frowned. “We left the diaper bag in the car.”

“Geoffrey will get it. But there should already be diapers here somewhere. I told the staff to make sure the nursery was stocked.” With one hand holding Gino in place on the table, he opened the doors of the cupboard beneath it. “Ah. There they are.” He reached in and pulled one out with a smile. “The staff is very efficient.”

She took a cautious step to the changing table. “So I see.”

“Now what?”

Forcing back the memories, she pulled in a slow, cleansing breath. Her grief subsiding, she strolled closer. “Unsnap his pajamas and slide him out.”

He unsnapped the one-piece pajamas but was a little rough in getting Gino’s arm out. She laid her hand on top of his. “Gentler.”

“Okay.” He peeked over at her and smiled stupidly. “His skin is soft, like velvet.”

She remembered thinking that very thing the first time she held Layla and swallowed back the grief, pushed back the memory of the nurse laying her brand-new baby girl into her arms. “I know.”

When Gino was out of his pajamas and wearing only his diaper, Whitney pointed at the tabs of his diaper and said, “Yank on those to open the diaper.”

He yanked on the tabs and to everyone’s joy, the diaper was only wet.

Darius said, “Whew.”

Whitney couldn’t help it. She laughed. “Okay, toss that in the container beside the changing table.” She motioned to the available diaper pail. “Slide another diaper under him, fasten the tabs, put him into clean pajamas and you’re done.”

Darius followed her instructions, needing another reminder about being gentle with Gino’s little arms and legs as he tucked them into pajamas. But again he only smiled when she told him.

Her suspicions about Darius came tumbling back. He was too nice. Too eager. Once again she wondered if he wasn’t trying to edge her out. “I’m surprised you want to learn all this.”

He caught her gaze. “Gino is my family now.”

“Oh. So you’re really getting into the daddy thing?” Her voice dripped with skepticism as she asked the question, but she couldn’t help it. A single man—a single rich man—who wanted to care for a baby was more than an anomaly. It was downright weird.

“My dad didn’t have a lot of time for me.” He peered over at her. “Or my brothers, and I don’t want that to happen to Gino. If I’m to be his male influence, I want to do my end of the duties.”

“So you’re going to learn how to do everything? ”

To her surprise, he wasn’t insulted. He laughed. “Hey, I just changed a diaper. I think my commitment has been proven.”

Not even close. Particularly since she didn’t understand why he was making such a hands-on commitment.

Sure, he didn’t want Gino to grow up without a dad. She got it. But there was more here. Her lawyer’s instincts had gone from suspicious to downright positive there was something here she was missing.

“Okay, then tomorrow morning, we’ll hit the ground running with your baby lessons.”

He laughed, but Whitney wasn’t kidding. Not just because she was afraid to touch Gino too much, but because she wanted to push Darius to the wall, give him so much baby time he would own up to what was really going on.

When the baby was dressed, Darius pulled him off the table and gave him a quick hug and kissed his cheek. “Good night, little guy.”

Then he handed the baby to Whitney. Preoccupied with his motives, she didn’t realize what he was about to do and had to scramble to catch Gino.

But the second the yawning baby was in her arms, the feel of his ultra-soft pajamas and smooth skin kicked her back in time again. Especially, when she brought Gino to her and hugged him. The second the little boy was snuggled against her, sadness overwhelmed her. The hollow, empty feeling of loss. Echoes of Layla’s giggles rolled through her brain. Memories of her lifeless body haunted her.

She pulled Gino away from her shoulder and swallowed. Then, for Darius’s benefit, she offered the baby a wobbly smile. “Good night, Gino,” she whispered hoarsely, hoping Darius didn’t notice she was trembling.

Because she wanted to cry. She missed her baby. She yearned for the life she’d lost. Was that so bad? So hard to understand?

She stopped. No. That wasn’t so bad. Or so difficult to comprehend. In fact, the smart way to handle her situation with Gino might be to tell Darius about Layla and Burn. She didn’t want his sympathy, but it was clear now that she would have difficulty getting adjusted to caring for a baby. Soon Darius would notice. It would be better to get the story out in the open and solicit his help than to have him see her stumble and question her ability to care for his little brother.

But tonight wasn’t the night for that conversation. With his motives now in question, she knew she had to wait a bit, see what he was up to before she bared her soul. If he was trying to get the baby away from her, she didn’t want to hand him over on a silver platter. She’d wait. See if he didn’t tip his hand or, alternatively, convince her that his motives were good.

Once the baby was in bed, Darius caught Whitney’s arm and turned her to the door. “It’s late. I’ll show you to your room then we can have dinner.”

Exhausted, confused and aching for privacy, she woodenly said, “I’m too tired for dinner.”