HOW TO: Hide a Baby, Book #1

• Marriage of Convenience
• Secret Baby Romance
• Steamy
• Workplace Romance

Six sexy Italian-American brothers, ready to win their soul mates. The Salvatore Brothers will charm, tempt, seduce … or even wed and bed.

They’ll do whatever it takes to find their bride. And when they say whatever it takes, they mean absolutely anything!
There’s something about Grace…

Luc Salvatore can’t quite put his finger on what it is about his assistant, Grace Barnes, but something doesn’t add up. Is it the mousey hair that looks a bit too mousey? The glasses that swamp her delicate features and don’t seem to have corrective lenses? Or the strangely elusive fiancé whose name she struggles to remember? Or maybe it’s the fact that she’s one of the few women he’s never been able to win over, no matter how hard he’s tried. But he wants to try.

Despite that, when a stranger drops a baby on his desk (not his!), Grace is the first person he turns to. And the lies begin, one stacking on the other. Are they engaged? Married? Just employee/employer? It depends on whether you ask the police, Child Protective Service, or their family, all of whom want to take the baby Luc is attempting to protect.

The Great Lie
Day 1: And the games begin . . .

Grace Barnes stood in front of the door that read Luciano Salvatore, President, and took a deep breath. She could do it. Sure she could. All she had to do was knock. The man on the other side of the door would say, “Come in.” She’d open the door, step into the office and her deception would begin. After that, she only had to keep her job with this man for one year and she’d receive the financing necessary to start her own business. What could be easier?

She shoved her tinted glasses higher on the bridge of her nose, checked to ensure not a single hair escaped the prim knot at the nape of her neck and tugged at the mud brown skirt and sweater threatening to engulf her. All right, she was ready. She lifted her fist to knock, but before she could, the door swung open.

And that’s when she saw him for the first time. In that instant, she realized how badly she’d misjudged Dom Salvatore and how foolish she’d been not to give him credit for knowing his son. He’d warned her. Oh, he’d definitely warned her. Every assistant Luc hired fell in love with him and ended up making a mess of the work situation. But she’d thought Dom had exaggerated.

He hadn’t.

Luc Salvatore was the most gorgeous man she’d ever set eyes on. High, aristocratic cheekbones and a square cleft chin complemented a striking, masculine face. Thick, dark brown hair fell in careless waves across his forehead, emphasizing eyes that held her with almost hypnotic power. He filled the doorway, and unable to help herself, she took several hasty steps backward.

“Well, well.” He folded his arms across his broad chest and leaned against the jamb. “Who have we here?” Although he didn’t have his father’s Italian accent, she caught a similar underlying lilt to his deep, husky voice. It brought to mind exotic climes and sultry nights, fragrant breezes and slow embraces.

“I’m . . . I’m Grace Barnes.” To her horror, she sounded almost timid. This would never do. What was wrong with her?

Slowly he straightened and walked toward her. She froze, not daring to speak, not daring to so much as move. For some inexplicable reason her heart pounded and it became a struggle to draw breath. Think of Baby Dream Toys, she told herself. Think of Mom planning for the day we’d open our own business.

Utilizing every ounce of control she possessed, she held out a hand. “I’m Grace Barnes,” she repeated in a cool, strong voice. “Your father hired me as your new assistant.” To her relief, her fingers were rock steady.
He took her hand and shook it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Barnes. Or is it Mrs.?” He released her right hand and lifted her left, studying the glittering diamond decorating her finger. “Ms. Barnes. Spoken for, but not yet taken. Our loss is . . .” He tilted his head to one side and lifted an eyebrow. “Whose gain?”

She froze, gazing up at him, staring into eyes that made her think of hot, liquid gold. She prayed her tinted eyeglasses concealed her panic. She hadn’t anticipated the question and she should have. “Will . . . William,” she replied, picking the first name to pop into her head.
His mouth curved, his expression wickedly amused. “Our loss is Will-William’s gain. Come into my office. Let’s get acquainted. Would you care for a drink? Coffee, tea? I even have freshly squeezed orange juice.”

She followed him, struggling to gather her composure. “Nothing, thank you,” she said, once again affecting a calm, collected attitude.

“Sit down.” He waved a hand in the direction of the chair across from his desk. “I assume my father told you I was out of the country during the interview process.”

“He did, yes.”

He took a seat and fixed the full power of his attention on her. Heaven help her, but she’d never met a man who exuded so much sheer masculine energy. “Explain something, Ms. Barnes. Why did my father choose you from all the other applicants?”

She didn’t dare tell him the truth. Dom had specifically asked she not mention they’d met through Salvatore Enterprise’s annual young entrepreneur contest, a contest designed to help young businesspeople start their own companies. She’d hoped to win first prize—a monetary award that would have enabled her to open Baby Dream Toys. Unfortunately, she’d placed third, a mixed blessing. Though her prize wasn’t sufficient to open her shop, it had, fortuitously, brought her to Dom’s attention and given her the opportunity to fulfill her dream, if in a rather roundabout manner.

“I gather from what your father said you’ve had trouble keeping your assistants,” she finally replied. She didn’t bother to add that the problem kept Dom from fully retiring, a situation he was determined to correct. “He felt it wouldn’t be an issue with me.”

Luc’s eyes narrowed. “Really? And why is that?”

“Because I’m serious about my work.”

And because if she kept her job as Luc’s assistant for one year—and unlike his previous assistants, maintained a strictly professional relationship—she’d be given the necessary financing to start her own business. There wasn’t a chance she’d fall for Luc’s charms and sacrifice her dream. Not a chance.

Luc inclined his head. “Let’s hope so.” He leaned back in his chair. “Tell me more about yourself.”

She complied, hesitantly outlining the resumé resting on his desk. And the entire time he watched her. He watched the way she spoke and the movement of her hands when she made a point. He scanned her tightly controlled hair and her face, obscured by the huge tinted lenses of her glasses. Even the prim manner in which she sat, with her back ruler straight and trim ankles crossed, didn’t escape his attention.

She wondered if he saw through her disguise, whether or not he realized she’d tinted her blond hair with a temporary drab-brown rinse, or dressed in oversized, unattractive clothes. Or that her tinted glasses held nonprescription lenses. And what about the engagement ring? It rode her finger, an unfamiliar weight as well as an uncomfortable fabrication. She stirred uneasily. For a minister’s daughter, duplicity came hard.

But she wanted to attain her dream. She wanted it more than anything in the world. And this temporary deception would get it for her.

“So,” she concluded her recital, “I worked there for one year before your father offered me this job.” With nothing left to say, she fell silent.

He didn’t comment, simply completed his perusal, his odd golden eyes narrowed in thought, as though analyzing something that didn’t quite add up. Grace sat perfectly still through it all. This was it. If she lost her cool now, she’d blow the chance of a lifetime. She regarded him steadily, knowing if she hoped to work for this man, she’d need to maintain a very careful façade.

At long last he nodded. “Welcome aboard, Ms. Barnes. As usual, Papà’s shown excellent judgment. Let me show you to your desk.” He stood and led the way into the outer office. “Here’s your new home. Have a seat.”
He held out her chair with such natural, unconscious ease, she knew it must come from long ingrained habit.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Get familiar with the setting, take some time to explore the office area, have a cup of coffee or tea, and report to me in an hour. Then we’ll go over office procedure. I’ll explain how we do things around here and run through your duties. Though in all honesty, there’s only one thing I expect from you.”

She eyed him warily. “Which is?”

He grinned. “Whatever I say.”

She stared at him uncertainly. He was a difficult man to nail down, serious one minute, teasing the next. Add to that an abundance of looks and intelligence, and it added up to a potent package. Worst of all, he possessed one final trait that would be the most difficult to deal with—a wicked sense of humor. No wonder women fell like ninepins. Was it possible his charm was an unconscious part of his personality, that he didn’t even realize all those women had lost their hearts to him? Time would tell.

Meanwhile, she could think of only one way to deal with him. “‘Whatever you say’ isn’t in my job description,” she announced in her most businesslike voice. “You’ll have to be more specific than that, Mr. Salvatore.”
His eyes glittered with laughter. “I’ll see what I can do. Oh, and one more thing.”

He circled her desk, standing directly behind her. She felt his hand brush her spine, following the row of buttons to the nape of her neck. It felt as though he touched her with a live wire. She started from her chair, but he pressed her gently back into her seat.

“Hold still, cara mia,” he ordered. “Just for a moment.”
With a final glancing touch, he released her. Crossing to the front of the desk, he looked down, a crooked smile curving his mouth. She gazed up at him, once again captured by those strange golden eyes.

“What were you doing?” she demanded.

“I was doing you a favor. Your button had come unfastened.” His voice lowered. “And I thought you looked like the sort of woman who isn’t comfortable unless she’s all buttoned up.” Without another word, he returned to his office and gently closed the door.
And that would set the pattern for their relationship, she realized with a sudden flash of intuition. She’d play the role of the stoic professional, and he’d be unable to resist pricking her composure, teasing a less than professional response from her.

Releasing her breath in a long sigh, Grace stared at the calendar centered on the desk. One year stretched before her in a string of endless days. Three hundred and sixty-five days, to be precise. It seemed a lifetime. Without giving herself time to consider, she opened the desk drawer and shoved through the paraphernalia cluttered inside until she found a bright red marker. With great deliberation, and even greater satisfaction, she slashed a big, fat X through the first day of her year-long sentence.

And in that instant Grace realized what she’d set herself up for . . . and just how long and difficult the next year would be.