even think about that, she told herself angrily. How dare her body react in a favorable way toward this man? He was slime. He was lower than slime. He was the single cell creature fifteen million years away from evolving into slime.
“I need to talk to you about the baby.” He gestured to the nursery behind them. “I…” He released her. “I want to know what Lucy had. I asked at the desk, but because she already signed the adoption papers they’re not giving out information.”
He looked tired, Kelly thought irrelevantly. Shadows pooled under impossibly blue eyes. Malone blue, she’d heard a couple of nurses saying a while back. Yeah, he was good-looking. So what? He was still slime.
“I don’t understand why anything about the baby is important to you, Mr. Malone,” Kelly said crisply. “Once you sign the release forms, the child ceases to be your responsibility.”
“That’s the thing,” he said. “I haven’t signed them. I’m not sure I can.”
Kelly didn’t know if she would have been more surprised if he’d started yapping like a poodle. She felt her mouth drop open, but she couldn’t seem to pull her jaw back into place. “What?”
Tanner glanced over his shoulder, then waved toward the corridor. “Is there somewhere we can go to talk for a minute? I’m sorry if I seem out of it, but I haven’t had much sleep in the past few weeks. Between the hours I’ve been working and thinking about the baby, I’ve been pacing more than I’ve been sleeping.”
She pressed her lips together. Tanner Malone had to be playing some kind of game. A man in his position would never consent to raise a child alone. Still, he’d captured her attention, so she decided to hear him out.
“There are a couple of consultation rooms just down here,” she said, leading the way.
They turned left at the nurse’s station and paused as Kelly checked the first room. It was unoccupied. She entered, then waited for Tanner to follow her before closing the door.
The room was small, maybe eight by eight, with a desk and three chairs. She moved around Tanner and settled into the single chair behind the desk, then motioned for him to take one of the remaining seats. He glanced at it, then shook his head and paced from the door to the wall. It took him all of three steps.
“The thing is, I know it’s crazy,” he began, not looking at her, but instead staring at the floor. “The hospital is adding a new wing.”
The comment seemed irrelevant until Kelly remembered that Tanner Malone owned the company building the wing. Construction had been going on for months. “Actually, I’ve noticed that.”
“Really?”
He glanced at her, and she was again caught up in the realization that his eyes were really a very deep blue. Forget it, she told herself firmly. Ignore the man, listen to the words.
“Then you probably know that my company is in charge of the construction. It’s a huge project, involving thousands of man-hours, not to mention dozens of subcontractors. I’d been working twelve, fourteen-hour days. Then the funding got stalled.”
Kelly nodded. For a time it seemed that the new wing wasn’t going to open as planned but Ryan Malone, Tanner’s brother, had pulled off a miracle.
“Now we’re playing catch-up,” Tanner continued. “I rarely see my house. We’re going to make the September first deadline for the dedication, but it’s going to be tight. So I don’t have time for a child in my life. Certainly not a baby.”
Kelly leaned back against the chair and worked hard to keep her face impassive. So he hadn’t been asking about the child at all, she thought grimly. He only wanted to talk to her so that he could explain his case to someone—anyone. He wanted to make excuses. She waited for the anger to return, but it was gone—transformed into a sadness she wasn’t sure she could explain.
There were so many hopeful couples wanting to adopt infants. Baby Ames would be placed with a loving family. She might grow up with every advantage. It was probably best for everyone. Kelly drew in a breath. If only she could let this go. Why was this one child getting to her?
“I can’t do it,” Tanner said.
“Mr. Malone, you don’t have to explain this to me, and frankly I’m not interested in your reasons for giving up your child for adoption.”
“But that’s my point,” he said. “I can’t do it. I can’t give him up.” He pulled a thick sheath of papers from his back pocket and dropped them on the desk. “Lucy and I talked about this and we both agreed it was the best thing. She’s got a job waiting for her in L.A. and I’ve got a busy life here. Adoption made sense.”
Kelly picked up the sheets and flipped through them. Lucy had carefully signed away all her rights to the child, but the space for Tanner’s signature was blank.
“What do you think?” he asked.
She glanced up and saw that Tanner had braced his hands on the back of one of the chairs and leaned toward her. His thick, dark hair fell over his forehead. He wasn’t the usual kind of man who populated her day. Most of them were other doctors or husbands of patients. She saw more suits than jeans and workshirts. Tanner might own Malone Construction but he obviously didn’t mind getting his hands dirty. She could see scars on his fingers, and there were thick muscles bulging in his upper arms and chest. She nearly matched him in height, but he had to outweigh her by forty pounds, all of them muscle.
“What do I think about what?” she asked.
“What should I do? Should I sign the papers?”
“I can’t answer that for you. We’re talking about a child, Mr. Malone. This isn’t a decision to be made lightly. Your daughter’s future is at stake.”
His eyes widened and a grin split his face. If she’d thought he was good-looking before, he was amazingly handsome now. That smile could cause a woman to stumble at fifty paces, she thought refusing to soften toward him.
“A girl!” He sank into the chair, then rubbed his eyes. “Damn. Like I know anything about women.”
“You know enough to get one of them pregnant.” Kelly regretted the words as soon as they passed her lips. She sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”
“Don’t apologize. You’ve got a point.” He leaned forward. “Is she okay? Ten fingers and toes?”
Kelly smiled. “She’s perfect. A real beauty. Her Apgar score was a nine at one minute and a ten at five minutes.” When Tanner looked blank, Kelly explained. “We check newborns for several characteristics right after birth. Their heart rate, whether they are crying, moving around, that sort of thing. Your daughter scored very high. There’s every indication that she’s healthy and normal.”
“A girl,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “Jeez. I feel like that changes everything, but I’m not sure it does.” He looked at her. “Tell me that the adoption is the best thing. Tell me that I have no business trying to raise a kid on my own. When would I find the time? Tell me I don’t know the first thing about babies or children.”
“No one can make that decision but you, Mr. Malone.”
Tanner
