What would poor little Mollie think, if she could understand the way they were bickering over her?
Max moved away and she grimaced as he surveyed her lounge room. Its appearance had deteriorated somewhat now that Mollie’s gear was piled in the middle of the carpet. Out of the corner of her eye, she noted Max’s brows pull into a frown as he studied the mountain of equipment. There were numerous toys, a collapsible cot, a car seat, pram and playpen, not to mention enough clothes to dress an entire kindergarten.
His gaze also took in the piles of pamphlets and boxes Gemma had ‘filed’ on her sofa. Her computer and more paperwork covered the small dining table.
‘There’ll be much more room when I move the baby’s gear into the bedroom,’ she explained hastily.
Max cracked half a grin. ‘Which bedroom would that be?’
‘M-mine.’
‘How many bedrooms do you have?’
Why her cheeks should flame at such a straightforward question was beyond her. ‘Just—just the one,’ she stammered.
Max stood staring at her with his hands on his hips, shaking his head as if he hadn’t heard her properly. ‘You’re going to put all this gear in that miniature bedroom I just came through?’
‘Some of it,’ she mumbled.
‘You’ll need to buy a smaller bed.’
Gemma wouldn’t give into his provocation by responding to that comment. To her further annoyance, he turned and sauntered around her compact kitchen, then back to the lounge and dining area, silently, grimly inspecting every detail. Her dwelling seemed smaller than ever with his large frame invading the space. Finally, he swivelled back to face her. And for an unnecessarily long moment, his disturbing blue eyes rested on her.
At last he spoke very quietly. ‘It can’t be done, Gemma. You can’t take care of Mollie here in this shoe-box.’
‘Of course I can. Isobel has total faith in me.’
‘Isobel is desperate.’
Gemma told herself she should expect a hurtful jab like this from Max and she resolved not to let him intimidate her. She matched his challenging gaze with a scornful glare. ‘Isobel wasn’t so desperate that she’d risk her baby’s welfare. She has complete trust in my ability to care for Mollie.’
His eyes narrowed as he stared thoughtfully at the toes of his leather riding boots.
‘Why don’t you?’ she challenged.
His head came up slowly, but he didn’t speak.
‘Why don’t you trust me, Max?’
Before he replied, he thrust his hands deep into the pockets of his faded jeans. ‘I’m sure you have good intentions, Gemma. But I keep remembering…’ His Adam’s apple moved up and down rapidly.
When he paused, Gemma rushed to defend herself. ‘I doubt that you’ve noticed, but I’m not a little kid any more.’
This time his mouth curved into a relaxed smile and his amused blue gaze rested on her for an uncomfortable length of time before he spoke. ‘Believe me, kiddo, I’ve noticed how grown-up you look these days.’
No amount of willpower could prevent Gemma’s blushes. She ducked her face behind Mollie’s golden curls.
‘But what I’m remembering is your reaction at the hospital when Mollie was born,’ he continued. ‘You told us all very loudly that you were allergic to babies. You wouldn’t touch her for fear she would break.’
Gemma tried valiantly to suppress a gasp of dismay. ‘Newborn babies don’t count,’ she muttered defensively. ‘Everyone’s nervous about holding them. I love Mollie now.’
‘But you said you were going to wait till she was old enough to—what was it? Take shopping? I think you were planning to teach her how to buy shoes and where to get the very best coffee in town.’
Stunned, Gemma stared at Max. The man had the memory of an elephant! She had only dim recollections of this conversation. How on earth did he retain such insignificant details? He must make a habit of hoarding up ammunition like this to fire when it most hurt.
‘OK, I was scared of Mollie at first,’ she admitted. ‘I’d never been in close contact with such a tiny new baby before, but I—I’ve adjusted. Mollie and I get on famously now.’
At that moment, Mollie wriggled restlessly in Gemma’s arms and uttered a little cry of protest. Gemma stared helplessly at the squirming baby. Just whose side was this kid on? She tried to jiggle Mollie on her hip. She’d seen Isobel do it many times and it always seemed to work.
‘I take it,’ added Max, ‘you’re going to try to play nursemaid and carry on a business as well?’
‘Of course. It shouldn’t be a problem.’ It was the worst possible moment for Mollie to let out an earsplitting wail, but she did. Her little face turned deep pink, her bottom lip wobbled and she sobbed desperately. Feeling totally threatened, Gemma quickly placed the baby on the floor at her feet. To her surprise, Mollie stopped crying almost immediately. She sat there quietly and began to suck her fist.
‘Look at that,’ Gemma beamed, feeling a whole lot better. ‘I won’t have to cart her around every minute of the day. I’ll be able to sit her in her playpen surrounded by toys and get on with my work.’
Max’s expression softened for a moment as he watched his niece, but when his gaze reached Gemma again, he scowled, shook his head and shoved his hands deeper in the pockets of his jeans. ‘I’m not going to allow her to stay here, Gemma.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Not going to allow her? Could she be hearing this? Gemma had always wondered what people meant when they described hackles rising on the backs of their necks. Now she knew.
‘You heard me. I’m not going to abandon my niece.’
‘Abandon her?’ she echoed. ‘How dare you insinuate that leaving her with me is the same as abandoning her?’
‘Don’t take it personally, Gem.’
The relaxed way Max leaned back against her kitchen bench doubled Gemma’s anger.
‘How on earth am I supposed to take it?’
‘This is a family matter. You know the old saying about blood being thicker than water. A friend can’t be expected to take on such responsibility.’
‘For crying out loud, I’m more than a friend,’ Gemma cried. ‘I’m Mollie’s godmother!’ But as the words left her lips, she realised they weren’t much help. This man, this enemy, this ogre—was poor Mollie’s godfather.
‘How on earth are you going to look after Mollie?’ Gemma challenged before Max could respond. ‘You’ve no women on your property and only a handful of ringers. I doubt they’ll be much help.’
‘I’ll hire a nanny, of course. Someone with the very best
