Page 88 of The Baby-whisperer and the Brute
“I know where it is, but I haven’t really paid much attention to what’s in the bottles because I don’t really drink. Did you want me to get something for you?”
He nodded. Placing a hand on each side of my waist, he slid me from his lap to the floor.
“There are a bunch of bottles of Dom Perignon down there and some Cristal too. Take your pick. Teetotaler or not, we’re going to have at least one toast. If you don’t mind getting that and putting it on some ice to chill, I have an errand to run.”
He got out of bed and headed for his enormous walk-in closet.
“An errand?” I asked with concern. “Are you sure you’re strong enough for that? You haven’t left the house since you got home from New York.”
He turned around and gave me a brilliant smile. “I feel strong enough toliftthe house. With one hand.”
At my threatening glare, he laughed. “I’ll take the elevator down to the garage and walk slow. That sound okay, Nurse Angelina?”
Marginally comforted, I turned and walked to the bedroom door, giving him a flirtatious glance back over my shoulder. “See that youdo, or I’ll have to force you back into the bed and strap you down.”
“Oooh. I can’t wait.”
Feeling as if I floated down the staircase instead of walking, I retrieved a bottle of champagne from the basement wine cellar and carried it into the kitchen where I plunged it into an ice bucket before launching a search for champagne flutes.
I was on the top step of the stepladder, reaching into a high cabinet when the security alarm went off.
The girls.
They must have finished their movie and started playing. It had been a long time since they’d tried to leave the house without permission, but maybe their time in New York had undone some of the good habits I’d instilled in them.
I checked the home map readout on the electronic security panel in the kitchen. A tiny red light blinked in the location of the front door. Calling their names, I walked quickly to the grand foyer to stop the girls from leaving.
“Skyla… Claire… you know you’re not supposed to open the door without asking first.”
When I stepped into the foyer, I stopped short at the sight of not two mischievous little imps butthreepeople standing together just inside the front door.
Skyla. Claire. And their mother.
I recognized Anouk instantly from her pictures. No one had told me she was coming to visit the girls. Maybe it was a surprise?
“Mommy’s here,” Claire announced.
“That’s why we opened the door, Angelina,” Skyla said reasonably. “It’s okay to let Mommy in, isn’t it?”
Anouk Reece set a hand atop each of her daughters’ heads and curved her lips into the least friendly smile I had ever seen. She stared straight at me as she answered for me.
“Of course it’s okay, darlings,” she purred. “I live here.”
All the breath left my body. The shock was so great I couldn’t even compose myself enough to come up with a standard greeting.
All I could manage was a weak, “What?”
Anouk’s cold smile grew even more feral. “I live here. Thisismy family’s house, after all.”
Only then did I notice the suitcases clustered around Anouk’s feet. Glancing out the open door I saw several more sitting on the front porch.
“You’re… moving in?”
A black hole formed in my chest, its dizzying force swallowing my heart and lungs. It was making a play for all the strength I had in my body, weakening my knees.
“Are you going to live with us now, Mommy?” Claire asked, tugging on the hem of her mother’s designer dress.
Anouk gripped her daughter’s tiny wrist, breaking her grip. “You mustn’t pull on this darling,” she snapped. “It’s a Stella McCartney couture.”
