She retrieved the laptop case from the chair beside her and slid open the zipper. “Those iced-tea glasses were awfully heavy.”

Her joke caught him off guard. He’d expected a snappy, if not angry retort to his jab.

“I’d like to get this over with,” he explained.

“Look.” She sighed. “It may seem early to you, but I’ve had approximately six hours sleep a night, in two or three separate segments, for the past three months. I’m tired.” She gestured to the laptop. “I have a deadline. I’d like to take a quick run, have a quick bath and try my best to rejuvenate my brain cells before Amelia wakes up again.”

Devin stuffed the laptop inside the case, zipped it up and came to her feet. He stood with her. The light from the chandelier caught her face, and for the first time he noticed dark circles under her eyes.

Up until now, he’d been distracted by the sapphire-blue of her irises. They glowed when she smiled at Amelia, flared when she was angry and turned crystal clear when her brain was working on a problem or coming up with a clever retort to something he’d said.

Right now, they seemed faded, like a misty sky on a southern summer day.

“You okay?” he automatically asked.

She tipped her head, gazing up at him. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“You sure you want to run?” He thought about offering to accompany her again. But he’d been a bit of a cad last time. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was trying to prove. The fact that he had longer, more muscular legs perhaps?

“I’m sure,” she answered.

“You know,” he couldn’t help but point out, “the sooner we find a nanny, the sooner you can get some more sleep.”

She closed her eyes for a split second, her shoulders seeming to droop. He had to check the urge to reach out and steady her.

“I was wrong when I said you were controlling,” she told him.

Progress? He felt hope rise.

“You’re not controlling. You are excruciatingly goal-oriented.”