nodded and gave them. ‘I don’t have any paper.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll remember them.’
* * *
When the doctor arrived, a mere thirty minutes later to Flora’s relief, she was dreading having to explain, especially if there was a language problem.
There wasn’t and he seemed to have a full grasp of Jamie’s medical history.
A very short time later, and after a thorough examination of the by now cranky baby, he confirmed that the baby did have a mild fever and diagnosed a virus...basically a cold.
‘And his heart?’
‘No problem there that I can detect. When is his next appointment?’
‘Six months’ time.’
‘Well, you are in good hands and this young man has a fine set of lungs. I knew Bruno, a good man, tragic, so tragic.’
Flora, her throat thick with emotion and unshed tears, nodded.
‘So the analgesic syrup four-to-six hourly, keep him cool and lots of fluids, any problems, you know where I am.’ He glanced towards the sitting room where Ivo, who had not accompanied him into the nursery, was waiting. ‘Or at least Ivo does. Those of us who know him were pleased to hear about his engagement and I am even more pleased now I have met you.’ His charring smirk faded as he added, ‘Ivo has few friends but those who are would die for him. He pretends he doesn’t care but he—well, I don’t have to tell you this, do I? Have you known him long?’
Blinking at this extraordinary endorsement and realising that nothing he’d said had surprised her, Flora shook her head. She already knew that Ivo’s mask of toughness, and coldness, hid deep feelings, but she also knew that he’d never share those feelings, or at least not with her. ‘No.’
‘Well, it doesn’t take long, does it, when you meet the right one?’
‘No, it doesn’t.’ Flora said the words quickly because she didn’t want to think about them too hard.
Quickly, but not quick enough to stop the flood, the relentless stream of images that began to flicker across her retina.
She blinked, her jaw tight as she struggled to halt the slide show. It felt as if a tug of war were going on in her head. She was pulling one way and...truth was pulling the other.
She couldn’t have fallen in love; she hadn’t put Ivo on a pedestal; she wasn’t blind to his faults. She didn’t even like him a lot of the time. She was just getting carried away by the great sex.
‘So, everything good?’
She started guiltily and swung around, the rope of plait that hung down her back whipping around a moment after she did, landing with a thump over one shoulder.
She saluted him with the bottle of baby medicine in her hand. ‘Yes.’ Jamie, lying in the crib, chose that moment to give a cranky cry. ‘He has a cold.’
‘Let me.’
She watched as he bent over the crib, lifting the sobbing baby with the sort of care normally reserved for an unexploded bomb, his expression fierce concentration as he arranged the baby against one broad shoulder and began to pat his back gently. The sight of Ivo cradling his tiny nephew made her smile despite the hand squeezing her heart.
One day he would have babies of his own; crazily the thought made her want to cry.
He glanced across, a look of self-conscious enquiry drifting over his face when he saw Flora standing there staring. ‘Am I doing it wrong or something?’
Flora swallowed the lump in her throat. How crazy to get choked up, but the sight of this big tough man being so gentle with the baby scored a direct hit on her tender heart.
‘No, you’re doing it perfectly,’ she said, grabbing the first thing to hand, which was a baby blanket. She began to fold it as though her life depended on perfectly aligned creases. ‘You know, you’re welcome in Skye any time. You should be part of Jamie’s life.’
Even before she heard his steely, ‘I intend to be,’ Flora sensed the change in the atmosphere. Maybe Jamie did too because he gave another whimper as Ivo laid him carefully down in the crib.
He watched Flora drag a chair over to the crib. They’d found mind-numbing passion together, and it was the thought of losing that and nothing else that had made him react to the idea of her vanishing back to Skye. That, after all, was the plan. Flora was to vanish out of his life, out of Jamie’s life.
Was he being fair to Jamie?
A child needed a female influence and not just one supplied by nannies. There was no doubt that Flora was utterly devoted to the baby. He shook his head; in some ways his grandfather’s plan was simpler.
Simple because Salvatore is losing his mind. The real question is: are you, Ivo?
He took a deep breath. He really needed to show her what an excellent life Jamie could have without her. It shouldn’t be that hard. He’d show her the glossy brochure of the really excellent school he’d picked out for Jamie, Ivo decided.
What’s the betting she disapproves of boarding schools?
‘He might take a while to settle.’
‘You planning on spending the night there?’ Ivo pointed to the lift doors at the end of the room, the ones that led to nannies on tap. ‘Or are you going to take some help?’
She pushed away a frivolous mental image of nannies lining up to slide down a pole like firemen, white frilly aprons fluttering, and started to shake her head.
‘Look, I know you have strong feelings on the subject.’ As she did on everything. ‘But there is help there ready and waiting if you change your mind. I know I’m probably wasting my breath, but you have nothing to prove. Everyone can see you put the baby above everything else.’ How many men would see that as a problem? An image of some future lover being jealous of Jamie drew his dark brows together in a frown.
‘But you can accept help. You don’t have to be a wonder woman or too tired and worn down to do fun things with the baby.’
Was he telling her that she looked worn down or she wasn’t fun, or both?
‘Or I could help?’ he heard himself say.
The offer made her smile. ‘Do you know one end of a nappy from the other?’ she asked, ignoring the fact that a few weeks back she hadn’t either. It was quite nice to feel superior for once. ‘Stick to what you’re good at.’
‘I’m good in bed, or so someone told me not so long ago.’
The blush on the outside was visible but it was the heat deep down inside that was more of a problem for Flora, who brought her lashes down in a protective shield, but not before Ivo had seen the aching longing reflected in the blue depths.
Inhaling through his flared nostrils, he fought to leash his libido. In another woman he might
