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ALL the ornate boardroom doors that Matt Patterson had faced hadn’t been as intimidating as the ordinary brown door before him.
Dysart Adoption Agency.
His chest tightened. His palms began to sweat. His mouth went dry.
Still, he never shirked a responsibility. He opened the door and walked inside.
Wood-paneled walls, an empty reception desk and a soft powder scent greeted him. So did the sound of a baby’s laughter. High-pitched and filled with joy, the little-girl giggles and squeals of delight rolled up the hall.
Nine chances out of ten that was his baby.
His baby.
Man, this was going to put a cramp in his love life.
And his traveling.
And his staff.
Good God! The housekeeper, Mrs. McHenry, would have a fit when she discovered they were going to have to add a nursery and a nanny to his already-busy household.
He followed the sound of the giggles to an office at the end of a short hall. Her back to him, a slim woman held a baby in the crook of her arm. Her glossy chestnut-brown hair was swept up in a neat, professional chignon and her red dress rode her curves like an Italian sports car took the turns at Le Mans.
His eyebrows rose. “Somehow I’d always pictured the women who worked at adoption agencies as gray-haired old maids in tacky white blouses.”
The baby stopped laughing. The woman at the window spun around.
For the first time Matt could remember, he was speechless.
Huge round brown eyes dominated her face. High cheekbones showcased a pert and proper nose and full, lush lips.
“Can I help you?”
He walked in slowly, his interest piqued. She was exactly the kind of woman he wined and dined, seduced and then left with the gift of a diamond bracelet. But before he could open his mouth to flirt, the baby in her arms squawked. Bella. Oswald and Ginny’s daughter. His, because he’d agreed to be godfather to his ex-wife’s baby.
Sadness stole over him. This time last week Ginny had called to make dinner plans for when he returned to Boston. Now she and Oswald were gone. He’d never again see Ginny’s pretty smile or hear Oswald’s goofy laugh. He’d lost the ex-wife he loved and her new husband, who had become a good friend.
Bella screeched again. The woman looked at the baby, then gasped slightly as her gaze jerked back to him. “I’m Claire Kincaid, Bella’s caseworker. Are you Matt Patterson?”
Shoving his hands into the pants pockets of his handmade suit, he ambled into the room. “Yes.”
“My God. In four days, Bella’s hardly responded to anybody. She doesn’t even cry. She eats and sleeps and laughs when I tickle her. But you’re the first person she’s spoken to.”
“Spoken to? Sounded like a squawk to me.”
She laughed. “Squawking is how babies talk.”
Her pretty brown eyes glittered with humor and his gut tightened. She was incredibly beautiful.
“She knows me.” He paused. “A bit.”
“Because you’re a friend of her parents?”
He nodded and took another cautious step toward the woman and Bella. Dark-haired, blue-eyed Bella strained toward him, reaching for him to take her.
Surprised, he jerked back.
Claire Kincaid’s smile faded. “She wants you.”
“Yes. And I fully intend to care for her but I—” He paused, sucked in a breath. His instincts insisted he should flirt with the beautiful woman. His brain, however, reminded him this wasn’t a pleasure trip and he’d better get his head in the game. Somehow or another he’d ended up with a baby and he didn’t have a clue what to do with her. “I can’t hold her.”
“Excuse me?”
He pulled his hands from his pants pockets and raised them in a gesture of total helplessness. “I don’t know how.”
She took a step toward him. “It’s really quite simple.”
Her sweet and polite voice matched her nearly perfect face and sent tingly warmth through him. But when she stepped toward him, offering the little girl, he backed up again.
She frowned. “This child is yours.”
“And I will take care of her. Next week.” He shook his head. “No. That doesn’t work for me, either. I have to go to Texas for some family reunion thing—”
The woman holding Bella stopped him with a wave of her hand. “I don’t care if you’re the king of the world and you have to hold court. Bella is yours now.” She smoothed a hand down the baby’s back. “Besides, there’s nothing to be afraid of. She’s such a sweetie that caring for her will come naturally.” She held the baby out to him, and again, Bella strained toward him.
His nervous system rattled like the old-fashioned ticker at the New York Stock Exchange. He’d known for four days that his ex-wife was dead and he was to be Bella’s guardian, and he hadn’t panicked. He’d handled it the same way he handled everything in his life. He took it one step at a time. But with the baby in front of him, it all suddenly became very real. For the next eighteen years, this child was his. He’d have to raise her. Get her through toddler years and preschool, then elementary school, middle school—teen years.
“I—” He wanted to take her. He really did. But this was Ginny and Oswald’s baby. A baby who deserved to be loved and pampered. He hadn’t loved or pampered anybody in—well, ever. That’s why he’d lost Ginny. He wasn’t the pampering, wine and roses, long walks on the beach and talks all night kind of guy. Worse, the people who might be able to help him—his staff—were all out of town.
“Really. I can’t take her now. I’ve been in London for three weeks. When I heard about Bella, I came home early. But I’d dismissed my household staff for the six weeks I was supposed to be away. They’re in places like Aruba taking a much-needed break. Even if I called them home, they wouldn’t get back before Friday. And I,” he said, pressing his hand against his chest, “have absolutely no idea how to care for a baby.”
“You don’t have nieces or nephews?”
He winced. “No, but even if I did, let’s just say I’m not much of a family man.”
Though Claire straightened as if she were about to rain down the fire of hell upon him, she protectively rubbed her hand along Bella’s back, soothing her. “You agreed to parent a child when you have absolutely no idea of how?”
“I
