The Billionaire's Christmas Baby

But Brent was forging on, trying to make sense of what was happening. Focusing on the near target.

‘Mr Grayland had to ask you to be quiet?’ he demanded.

‘He’s talking of my confidentiality agreement,’ she told him, still staring at the floor. ‘He doesn’t wish me to talk of what’s happened outside this room.’

‘Or inside either,’ Max snapped and amazingly Brent came to her defence.

‘Miss Raye is required to report anything that happens in this hotel to me. But of course the confidentiality agreement extends to me as well. I’d like Miss Raye to leave. She has work to be getting on with, and as a cleaner she can hardly be of any use to you.’

‘But you don’t have a babysitter for me.’

‘No, sir.’

‘And Miss Raye knows how to care for babies.’

Brent sent her an uncertain glance. He wasn’t sure where to go with this. ‘Is this true, Miss Raye?’

‘Please...’ She needed to get out of here. She spoke directly to her boss. ‘I’m at the end of a double shift. If you’ll excuse me...’

‘But you do know about babies?’

Did she know about babies? It was practically the only thing she did know. But now wasn’t the time for hollow laughter. Be invisible. Disappear.

‘She does,’ Max said, suddenly softening. ‘She washed her and fed her.’

‘Miss Raye?’ Brent reacted with shock. ‘That’s not in your list of duties. Our insurance doesn’t cover...’

‘Damn your insurance.’ Max’s anger flared again, but once again he turned to Sunny. Who was still desperately looking at the floor. ‘Miss Raye, you obviously know how to care for a baby. She’s sleeping now. You’re at the end of a double shift? You must be tired.’ He gazed around the suite and she could almost see cogs whirring. ‘This living room has a massive settee. Your manager... Mr...’ He looked in query at Brent.

‘Cottee,’ Brent told him smoothly. ‘Brent Cottee.’

‘Thank you. Mr Cottee can no doubt send up nightwear, toothbrush, anything you need to stay the night. My bedroom has an en suite bathroom so you can be separate. Mr Cottee, I’m prepared to pay full babysitting services for the night, doubled, plus the same amount to Miss Raye personally.’ He looked uncertainly back at the pram but forged on, plan in place. ‘This could suit.’

‘Suit who?’ Sunny muttered.

‘Suit me,’ Max said smoothly. This obviously wasn’t a man who let objections trouble his path. ‘I can’t believe money wouldn’t be useful at this time of the year.’

Was he kidding? Of course it would. It’d be glorious.

And the alternative? By the time she got home it’d be midnight and she was due to start work again at eight. Gran and Pa wouldn’t even realise she hadn’t come home.

‘The insurance...’ Brent bleated but it was a weak bleat. He looked almost hopeful.

‘I’ll sign a waiver,’ Max told him. ‘Miss Raye might not have childcare credentials but I’ve seen enough to know I want her.’

‘You’re on duty again tomorrow?’ Brent demanded.

‘Yes, sir, at eight.’

He nodded. ‘Then it seems satisfactory.’ The fact that she’d just done a double shift, that she could well be up all night with a newborn and she had to work tomorrow seemed to worry neither of them. But then she thought...double money. A double shift today, payment for a double shift tonight and then tomorrow’s shift... She could almost pay for Tom’s tooth to be capped with that. Tom was working all summer to pay his uni fees but the money wouldn’t stretch to dentistry.

And baby Phoebe was asleep. With luck, it’d be just a couple of quick feeds during the night.

So... She had her back to the wall but she also had Max Grayland at her mercy.

She could try.

So she tilted her chin and met his gaze square-on.

‘I agree,’ she told him. ‘On one more condition.’

‘Which is?’

‘I need the biggest, fanciest box of cherry liqueur chocolates that money can buy, gift-wrapped and delivered here before I leave work tomorrow. If you can find me those, we have a deal.’

‘You’re kidding,’ Max said, astounded.

‘Miss Raye...’ A hissed warning from Brent.

But she ignored him. Tomorrow night would be crazy. Christmas Eve would be in full swing before she got home. She’d have cooking, gift-wrapping, hugging, greeting, chaos... And Gran was expecting her chocolates.

‘That or nothing,’ she told him and Max met her look. A muscle twitched at the side of his mouth. For a moment she even saw a twinkle. Laughter?

‘They’re that important?’

‘That or nothing,’ she repeated and the twitch turned into a smile.

It transformed his face. She’d thought he seemed harsh, autocratic, bleak, but suddenly he was laughing at her...no, with her, she thought, because his smile seemed almost kind. His gaze was still on hers, holding her, blocking out the rest of the world.

Oh, my... It was enough to take a girl’s breath away.

Actually, it had taken her breath away. She needed to find herself a nice, quiet place and remember how to get it back.

But Max had moved on. He turned to Brent. ‘Mr Cottee? Cherry liqueur chocolates?’

‘I’m sure Miss Raye doesn’t mean it,’ Brent said.

Sunny opened her mouth to retort but she didn’t need to. Max got in before her.

‘Miss Raye doesn’t have to explain,’ Max said smoothly. ‘It’s me who requires it. The biggest, fanciest box of cherry liqueur chocolates money can buy, delivered to this suite before Miss Raye finishes work tomorrow.’

At least this was easy. This hotel seemingly had links to every service industry in town. The cost would be high but Brent knew enough not to quibble. ‘Yes, sir. We can do that.’

‘And a qualified child carer to take over from Miss Raye in the morning.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Brent said and maybe Max heard the uncertainty in Brent’s voice or maybe he didn’t. Sunny did, but she wasn’t saying anything. Tomorrow’s worries were for Max, not for her.

‘Then that’s settled,’ Max said smoothly. He glanced at his watch. ‘I have a conference call coming in from New York in five minutes. I’ll work from my bedroom. Miss Raye, you can use the separate bathroom out here, the kitchenette and anything you need from room service. Mr Cottee will no doubt organise it. I’ll see you in the morning.’