her skin a healthy pink, and her blue eyes gazed back unfocused at Olivia.
The pink blanket Andrea was wrapped in was clean, and she wore a pretty pink woollen suit beneath, plus a matching hat that hid the colour of her hair. If she had any!
‘You’re going to get too hot in all this wool, aren’t you, poppet?’ Olivia spoke gently to the baby even as she eased herself up out of the chair to lie Andrea down on the thickly carpeted floor and began slowly unwrapping her.
Almost like a Christmas present—except a baby was the very last thing Olivia wanted, for Christmas or at any other time!
The hair beneath the woollen hat, Olivia discovered a few seconds later, was a startling black. Exactly like her father’s, she realised with a disapproving tightening of her mouth.
She wasn’t a prude, by any means—in her career it was best not to be! But Shelley had looked no older than twenty at most—possibly even younger than that—and Ethan Sherbourne, although very attractive in a devilish sort of way, and obviously physically fit, was a man in his early forties. And, from the little Shelley had said before her abrupt departure, the relationship between the two of them had been so fleeting the young girl had been doubtful that Ethan Sherbourne would even remember her!
To Olivia this whole situation seemed just so irresponsible. It was also one that could easily have been avoided. In her opinion, Ethan Sherbourne, with his obvious maturity, should have been the one to avoid it!
Selfish, Olivia instantly decided. Totally lacking in thought for anyone but himself and his own pleasure. He lived here, in sumptuous luxury, with a harem of women at his beck and call, while a young girl like Shelley, obviously not in the same financial bracket at all, by the look of her worn clothing, was left to bring up her child—and Ethan Sherbourne’s!—completely on her own. It was men like him who—
‘She had already disappeared by the time I got downstairs.’ A disgruntled Ethan Sherbourne strode forcefully into the apartment, slamming the door behind him.
‘Why didn’t you just follow her back to her home?’ Olivia reasoned—it was what she had expected him to do, after all.
‘For the simple reason that I have no idea where she lives!’ He scowled darkly at Olivia as she stood up with the baby held in her arms, now minus her blanket, hat and woollen outer suit. The pink Babygro that she wore beneath was slightly too large for her. ‘How old do you think she is?’ Ethan frowned.
Olivia raised blonde brows, already disgusted enough by the fact that he had no idea where Shelley lived without this too! ‘Don’t you know?’ After all, if the relationship had been as fleeting as Shelley had implied it was, then it shouldn’t be too difficult for Ethan Sherbourne to take a guess at his daughter’s age!
‘I would hardly have asked if I already knew, now, would I?’ he snapped, moving to the array of drinks that stood on the side dresser, pouring out a large measure of whisky into one of the glasses and taking a large swallow before holding the decanter up in invitation to Olivia.
‘No, thank you,’ she refused coldly; she didn’t think his getting drunk was going to help the situation at all!
‘Suit yourself.’ He shrugged before downing the rest of the whisky in the glass. ‘At a guess, I would say she’s somewhere between two and four months old,’ he decided.
Perhaps not so fleeting a relationship, after all. Certainly not the one-night-stand that Olivia had been imagining. ‘Her name is Andrea,’ she bit out caustically. ‘And I would agree—she’s about three months old.’
Ethan’s mouth twisted scornfully. ‘In your expert opinion?’
Olivia drew in a sharp breath at his insulting tone. ‘Now, look, Mr Sherbourne—’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, call me Ethan,’ he retorted impatiently. ‘After all, with Shelley’s abrupt departure, we seem to have been left joint custodians of a very young baby!’
‘We most certainly have not!’ Olivia walked determinedly across the room, putting the baby firmly into Ethan’s arms. ‘In her mother’s absence, Andrea is one hundred per cent your responsibility.’ She stepped back pointedly. ‘And, as such, I think you should be aware of the fact that Andrea needs her nappy changed,’ she added with satisfaction. ‘It’s probably the reason she’s so upset,’ she guessed shrewdly.
Ethan raised the tiny baby slightly, his nose wrinkling with distaste at the obvious aroma that came up to greet him.
‘I presume her nappies are in the bag—along with her food.’ Olivia moved to pick up the shoulder-bag Shelley had dropped earlier, unzipping it to find everything in there that baby Andrea would need for an indefinite stay: several changes of clothes, uncountable nappies, and enough formula and bottles to feed her for a week. ‘Here.’ She handed Ethan one of the tiny disposable nappies, wipes, and barrier cream, and was completely unsympathetic as he tried to balance those as well as hold the baby.
Dark brown eyes opened wide. ‘You expect me to change Andrea’s nappy?’ he said with obvious disbelief.
‘I don’t expect you to do anything,’ Olivia assured him lightly. ‘But I think Shelley does!’
Ethan gave up all pretence of holding on to the things she had just handed him, dropping them—but fortunately not the baby!—onto the carpeted floor. ‘Well, let me inform you—and Shelley too, if she were here—’
‘I think that’s probably the appropriate word—if Shelley were here,’ Olivia said sweetly. ‘Which she isn’t. Which only leaves you—’
‘And you,’ he pounced quickly.
‘No way.’ Olivia shook her head decisively. ‘Shelley obviously believes you are more than capable of caring for Andrea.’ Although in the same circumstances Olivia didn’t believe she would have been so positive! ‘I suggest you start fulfilling that belief by changing the baby’s nappy.’
Those dark brown eyes looked at her suspiciously. ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’ he finally said slowly.
When it came to the distressing circumstances of Shelley being put in a position where she didn’t know where else to turn to for help—no. But the fact that this arrogant Casanova had finally been given his comeuppance—yes, she was enjoying that!
Ethan Sherbourne was everything Olivia disliked in a man: arrogant, self-satisfied, too good-looking for his own and everyone else’s good. And on today’s evidence—totally amoral.
‘What I happen to think about this situation isn’t important,’ she dismissed. ‘Making the baby comfortable is, however. I’ll just get a towel from the bathroom for you to lie her down on.’ Which she did with no trouble whatsoever—the lay-out to this apartment was exactly the same as her own on the floor below. ‘There.’ She doubled the dark blue towel, placing it on the floor before looking expectantly at Ethan Sherbourne.
His cheeks were flushed as he scowled back at her darkly. ‘I am not—’ The baby began to cry once again. ‘Maybe I am,’ he muttered between clenched teeth, before moving down onto his knees and lying the baby gently down on the towel. ‘How do I get into this thing?’ He pulled ineffectually at the Babygro, turning the baby from side to side in his effort to find an opening.
‘There
