Dylan’s grin was charmingly shamefaced. ‘I guess it’s not a skill I associate with important, busy surgeons.’
‘How many important, busy surgeons do you know?’
‘Oh, heaps.’
‘Oh?’
Curiosity about her unexpected visitor surfaced. He had shed the leather jacket now and looked…larger, somehow. Well-defined muscles on his bare upper arms suggested he was fit. The tan might mean he worked outdoors. The hair was too wild to fit with a white-collar job and…Good grief, she’d been right to suspect an ear piercing. It wasn’t a gold ring, though. Just a tiny gold stud.
‘So what do you do?’ Jane asked.
‘I’m a nurse.’
The statement was terse. Cut off by a mouthful of food, but Jane was being watched. Those dark blue eyes were on her face. Waiting for her reaction.
He was a male nurse. She was a female surgeon. Was he expecting some kind of put-down? Jane simply nodded.
‘So you and Josh both went into medicine, then. Do you have a specialty area?’
The hesitation was so brief Jane wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been watching for his reaction to her reaction. She saw her words being registered and she saw the wariness leave his eyes and an approving gleam take its place.
And, for some inexplicable reason, she felt like she’d passed a test. Supplied the correct answer. Won a prize, even. A tingle of pleasure made her aware of just how tense and miserable she’d been ever since this man had appeared in her life with his devastating news and his alarming young companion.
‘I love kids,’ Dylan answered when he’d swallowed. ‘I’ve done a fair bit of time in Theatre but I prefer my patients awake. I’ve done everything over the years. Nursing’s a great job to travel with and I’ve got the world’s itchiest feet. I never stay in one place for more than a few months.’
So she’d been right about more than the ear piercing. He was a gypsy. Would he cart Sophie from pillar to post with him?
Jane opened her mouth to tell him how unsuitable a life that would be for a young child and then snapped it shut. It wasn’t her place to criticise. He loved the baby. She was happy with him. He was a nurse and he loved kids and he was Sophie’s uncle. End of story.
Any niggling doubt was erased by looking down to where Sophie was sound asleep in her car seat beside Dylan’s chair.
‘Is she all right, sleeping in there? Doesn’t she need a cot or bassinette or something?’
‘She’ll be fine. I’ll make up a bed with pillows and she can share my bed.’ Dylan was scraping up the last of his scrambled eggs. ‘When I find one, that is.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I came straight to the hospital from the airport. I was going to ask you for a recommendation for accommodation but we didn’t really get that far, did we?’
‘You mean you haven’t got something booked? It’s after 10 p.m.! What have you been doing for the last few hours? I thought you’d be getting yourself sorted. With a hotel and a cot and supplies and so on.’
‘Did you now?’ Dylan’s gaze was steady. ‘You hoped I’d be riding back in on my white charger to rescue you from any responsibility?’
Jane could feel the heat creeping up from her neck to her cheeks. It was exactly what she’d been hoping.
‘Um…how long are you expecting to stay?’
‘As long as it takes.’
‘As long as what takes?’ Dismay enveloped Jane. This was actually a very long way from being sorted.
‘You need time,’ Dylan said calmly. ‘A chance to get used to the idea that you’re a mother. Your only chance to be one, from what you’ve said.’ He pushed his plate away but he was watching Jane with that intense kind of focus he seemed very good at. ‘You never intended having a child and you’re not about to change your mind.’
Jane would have confirmed his statement but he didn’t give her the chance. He kept talking. Quietly. His voice was compelling.
‘If you send us away, we’ll go, but you’ll probably never see Sophie again. You’ll never know what it’s like to hold a baby in your arms and know that she’s yours. That she’s utterly dependent on you and that she’s going to love you in a way that no one else can ever love you. Don’t be in too much of a hurry to break that connection, Jane. It might very well be the only one you ever have.’
He’d called her Jane. In that soft, lilting tone he’d used throughout that extraordinary short speech.
He’d go away, he said. If she chose. He’d go away and take the baby with him.
She wouldn’t have to hear him tell her about the responsibility she should be taking on. She wouldn’t have to feel guilty or contemplate the shattering effect this child could have on her life.
She wouldn’t have to see him sitting here—so out of place in her perfect apartment—with his big, masculine body and his tousled hair. She wouldn’t have to listen to that accent that reminded her of Josh and…and Izzy.
She wouldn’t hear him calling her ‘Jane’ like that. Like he knew her.
Like she mattered.
Jane had to swallow hard. And move. She gathered up the empty plates.
‘Fine,’ she managed to choke out as she stood up. ‘You can stay here tonight.’
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