“It’s just so sweet.” Freddie’s eyelashes were spiky and her eyes swam as she looked up at him. He thought for a moment—an uncomfortable moment—that it would be easy to drown in those eyes.

“Yeah, it’s great.” He let out a careful breath. She was his cousin, he reminded himself. Well, a kind of cousin. And she was hardly more than a kid. “I, ah, don’t have a handkerchief or anything.”

“It’s all right.” Freddie felt a drop roll down her cheek, but she didn’t mind. After all, these were the very best kind of tears. “Do you ever think about having babies?” she asked with disarming candor.

“Having—” Nick would have stepped back then, way back, but the family was crowding him in. “No,” he said firmly, and made himself look away from her damp, glowing face. “No way.”

“I do.” She sighed and let her head rest against his arm.

Mikhail was whispering something to Sydney that had her nodding and wiping away tears. Behind Freddie, Natasha shifted Katie in her arms and turned to her husband. He had one hand on Freddie’s shoulder, and his sleeping son lay curved on his own.

“Every one is a miracle.”

He bent his head to kiss her damp cheeks. “Just say the word anytime you decide you’d like another miracle of our own.”

“I am a man blessed.” Yuri grabbed the closest body. It happened to be Bess’s, and she found herself whirled in a circle. “Two grandsons. Now three granddaughters.” He tossed Bess up. She came down laughing, gripping his shoulders.

“Congratulations.” She pleased him enormously by kissing him firmly on the mouth. “Grandpapa.”

“It’s a good day.” He reached in his pocket. “Have a cigar.”

CHAPTER TEN

Rosalie considered herself an excellent judge of people, and she had already decided Bess was one strange lady. But she kept coming back.

Sure, the money was good, Rosalie thought as she sat drinking a diet soda in Bess’s basement office. And for a woman with a retirement plan, that had to be number one. Yet it was more than making an extra buck that kept her taking the trip up and across town several days each week. More, too, that kept her hanging around after they finished what Bess liked to call ‘consulting sessions.’

Rosalie was human enough to get a charge out of being connected, however remotely, to the entertainment world. She couldn’t deny that she’d been excited, awed and impressed when she watched a couple of tapings.

But there was another factor, a much more basic one. Rosalie enjoyed Bess’s company.

Besides being a strange lady, Bess had class. Rosalie didn’t figure a person had to possess class to recognize it in another. Class wasn’t just a matter of pedigree—though she’d discovered Bess had one. It was more than having an old lady in the DAR, or an old man in Who’s Who. It was hazier than that. Though Rosalie couldn’t quite come up with the terms she wanted, she had recognized in Bess those rare and often nebulous qualities, grace and compassion.