gaze roamed the small sleeping form, those rosebud lips, that button nose, and his heart swelled and dropped. Some things you simply couldn’t shrug off.
After flexing his fingers, he slid a firm grip around the unharnessed car seat’s handle.
“I’ll bring her to the police station.” His voice was hushed now. He didn’t want to wake her and maybe have her cry. “They can call Child Services.”
“But they could take ages to collect her.”
“I only know a baby doesn’t sleep forever and I don’t carry spare diapers around in my breast pocket.”
Red quietly searched around the foot of the blanket. “There’s a bottle here,” she said, “some formula and a few diapers, too.”
“The officers at the local precinct will be most appreciative.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “I’m sure they’ll be eternally grateful.”
Zack narrowed his eyes at her. What was she after? He was a businessman, for Pete’s sake, not a babysitter—no matter how cute the kid.
The driver adjusted his rearview mirror. “Should I drop you two lovebirds off at a café so you can nut this out?”
“We’re not lovebirds.” Zack gripped the carrier’s handle more tightly while Red held his gaze for an interminably long moment before surprising him yet again. Her slim nostrils flared, her delicate chin lifted a notch.
Then she reached out and her hand closed over his.
The sensation of her palm pressing, fingers brushing, sent his thoughts and pulse leaping. In an instant he became intensely aware of her scent, subtle and citrus, and the fact that her left hand bore no rings. The idea she might be unattached—available—hijacked and toyed with his mind.
When her fingers moved enough to scoop beneath his, her nails teased his palm and a jet of heat, like the initial burst of a flame, licked a hot path through his veins. Pleasant. Tempting. His runaway thoughts bubbled with all kinds of possibilities that had nothing to do with a baby, except, perhaps, the making of one.
“You go on,” she said as her fingers wrapped around the carrier’s handle and his reluctantly eased away. “I’ll take her back inside with me. I can’t stand to think of her waiting in a police station. Who knows what types might be lurking around.”
Zack opened his mouth to argue. Red had a flight to catch. But in truth he couldn’t disagree about the police station; not the best environment for an infant who’d need attention once she woke. And the instinct that rarely failed him said this woman was competent and trustworthy. The baby would be in good hands until the proper authorities stepped in. After that…
At the twinge beneath his ribs, Zack set his jaw and squared his shoulders.
After that, no doubt the mother would show up, all teary but relieved, and the family would have a good story to share at the kid’s twenty-first.
But, for now, Red needed a hand to battle the snow and get them both inside.
He shifted. “I’ll help you back in.”
“No need.”
Before he could insist, she’d opened her door. Standing with her overnight case in one hand, she waved in the direction of the hotel entrance with the other. Zack glanced out the back window. Through swirls of snow, a uniformed bellman was striding over, monster umbrella fending off the inclement weather.
James Dirkins, the current owner of this hotel, had refused his first offer on behalf of Harrison Hotels, but at this moment Zack was more determined than ever. When he snared the deal, bought this hotel, his first priority would be to cover that forecourt. Such a basic thing. No wonder occupancy was down.
After handing her luggage to the bellman, Red slid out the carrier. She had the good grace to flash a quick smile goodbye before the bellman shut the door and Zack watched them shrink then vanish into the white.
“So, you going to the airport, pal?”
Gaze still on the drifts, Zack murmured, “A private address.”
“You want me to guess?”
But Zack wasn’t listening.
Red…
He didn’t even know her name.
“You could buy your own cab the way the meter’s clicking over,” the driver said. “Not that I’ll complain.”
Zack’s ears pricked, his stomach jumped and he sat straighter. Was that the wind he heard gusting outside or a baby’s cry?
Squeezing his eyes shut, he counted to three but, wouldn’t you know, the urge only grew. Wasn’t often Zack Harrison felt cornered. Beaten. But now he groaned, whipped out his wallet, dropped a bill over onto the front seat and told the driver, “Wait here. As long as it takes. I’ll be back.”
Trinity Matthews knew precisely what she’d gotten herself into.
Hours of waiting—and worrying—in a city where she knew no one; the naturopath she’d met and interviewed today for Story didn’t count. And yet as she moved over the polished marble floor, heading for the hotel’s sweeping timber reception desk with the baby carrier weighing on her arm, Trinity couldn’t regret her decision.
Child Services did their best, but lines were long and resources low. At one time, she’d applied for a job in the department but personal experience with the system, as well as insight into herself, said she’d never cut it. So many neglected or abandoned children…She’d want to take home every one.
Glancing down, Trinity studied the sleeping baby and raw emotion gripped and thickened in her throat. Nobody asked to be tossed away. Nobody deserved to be, certainly not this little angel. If, in fact, abandonment were the case.
The echoing slap of footfalls on marble came from behind. Trinity pivoted around. The man from the cab—the one with those incredible midnight eyes, that velvet smooth baritone and a smile that seemed strangely familiar—was jogging up toward her, dodging patrons and hotel staff, overcoat tails flapping behind. As he pulled up, a lock of dark hair fell over his brow and his broad shoulders rolled back as he drew in a deep breath. For a moment, Trinity felt a little out of breath herself. From head to foot, and everywhere in between, what an outstanding example of the male species. And there it was again…that niggle that whispered she knew him.
And maybe shouldn’t trust him.
Then he introduced himself and the pieces of that puzzle all fell magically into place.
“I forgot to introduce myself,” he said with a lopsided grin. “Zackery Harrison.”
Trinity’s eyes widened at the same time her stomach muscles clutched. Of course! Standing in the brighter light, who could dispute that dynamite build, the Hollywood looks, that authoritative air? In person, Mr. Harrison was indeed criminally sexy. From all she’d read, Trinity also knew he was a greedy, self-serving jerk.
But she wouldn’t call him out on that here, now. This was neither
