stiffen. Protectiveness pumped through him anew.
He ducked his head toward her. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? We can go back to the suite, dine on the balcony, spend our day off in a decadent haze of food and sunshine.”
She shook her head tightly. “We proceed as planned. For Issa, I will do anything to get the word out about her story, whatever it takes to be sure she has a real family who loves her and appreciates what a gift she is.”
Her ferocity couldn’t be denied—and it stirred the hell out of him. Before he did something crazy like kiss her until they both couldn’t think, he turned to the reporters gathered on the resort’s stone steps.
“No questions today, just a statement,” he said firmly with a smile. “Dr. Mandara and I have had our disagreements in the past, but we share a common goal in our desire...to help people in need. This is the holiday season and a defenseless child landed in our radar, this little girl. How could we look away? We’re working together to care for this baby until her family can be found. If even Mari and I can work together, then maybe there’s hope....”
He winked wryly and laughter rippled through the crowd.
Once they quieted, he continued, “That’s all for now. We have a baby, a conference agenda and holiday shopping to juggle. Thank you and Merry Christmas, everyone.”
Their bodyguards emerged from the crowd on cue and created a circular wall around them as they walked from the resort to the shopping strip.
Mari glanced up at him, her sandals slapping the wooden boardwalk leading to the stores and stalls of the shoreline marketplace. “Are we truly going shopping? I thought men hated shopping.”
“It’s better than hanging out inside eating conference food. I hope you don’t mind. If you’d rather go back...”
“Bite your tongue.” She hip-bumped him as he strode beside her.
“Onward then.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders, tucking her to him as they walked.
She glanced up at him. “Thank you.”
If he dipped his head, he could kiss her, but even though he’d set up this press coverage, he balked at that much exposure. “Thanks for what?”
“For the press conference, and taking the weight of that worry off me. You handled the media so perfectly. I’m envious of your ease, though.” She scrunched her elegant nose. “I wish I had that skill. Running from them hasn’t worked out that well for me.”
“I just hope the statement and all of those photos will help Issa.”
“Why wouldn’t it?”
Helping Interpol gain access to crooks around the world had given him insights into just how selfish, how Machiavellian, people could be. “Think of all the crackpots who will call claiming to know something just to attach themselves to a high-profile happening or hoping to gain access to you even for a short while knowing that DNA tests will later prove them to be frauds.”
“God, I never thought of that,” she gasped, her eyes wide and horrified.
He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, all too aware of how perfectly she fit to his side. “The police are going to be busy sifting through the false leads that come through.”
“That’s why you wanted to wait a day to officially announce we’re fostering her....” she whispered softly to herself as they passed a cluster of street carolers.
“Why did you think I waited?” He saw a whisper of chagrin shimmer in her golden eyes. “Did you think I was buying time to hit on you?”
She lifted a dark eyebrow. “Were you?”
“Maybe.” Definitely.
She looked away, sighing. “Honestly, I’m not sure what I thought. Since I stumbled into your suite with that room-service cart, things have been...crazy. I’ve barely had time to think, things are happening so fast. I just hate to believe anyone would take advantage of this precious baby’s situation for attention or reward money.”
The reality of just how far people would go made his jaw flex. “We’ll wade through them. No one gains access to this child or you until they’ve been completely vetted. We will weed through the false claims and selfish agendas. Meanwhile, she’s safe with us. She turns toward your voice already.”
“You’re nice to say that, but she’s probably just in search of her next bottle.”
“Believe what you want. I know differently.” He’d seen scores of mothers and children file through his clinic—biological and adoptive. Bonds formed with or without a blood connection.
“Are you arguing with me? I thought we were supposed to be getting along now. Isn’t that what you said at the press conference?”
“I’m teasing you. Flirting. There’s a difference.” Unable to resist, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Oh.”
“Relax. I’m not going to hit on you here.” There were far too many cameras for him to be too overt. “Although a longer kiss would certainly give the press something to go wild about. Feed them tidbits and they’ll quit digging for other items.”
Furrows dug into her forehead. “But it feels too much like letting them win.”
“I consider it controlling the PR rather than letting it control me.” He guided her by her shoulders, turning toward a reporter with a smile before walking on. “Think about all the positive publicity you’re racking up for your father.”
“This may have started out to be about keeping the press off my back, but now it’s more about the baby.”
He agreed with her on that account. But the worry on her face reminded him to stay on track with his plan. “This conversation is getting entirely too serious for a day of fun and relaxation.”
“Of course...” She swiped her hand over her forehead, squeezing her eyes closed for an instant before opening them again and smiling. “Who are you shopping for today? For your family?”
“In a sense.”
He stopped in front of a toy store.
Her grin widened, her kissable lips glistening with a hint of gloss. “Are we shopping for Issa?”
“For the kids at my clinic.”
* * *
Toy shopping with Rowan and Issa, like they were a family, tore at Mari’s heart throughout the day. The man who’d left a flower on her pillow and chosen her favorite breakfast was charming. But the man who went shopping for the little patients at his free clinic?
That man was damn near irresistible.
Riding the elevator back up to their suite, she grabbed the brass bar for balance. Her unsteady feet had nothing to do with exhaustion or the jerk of the elevator—and everything to do with the man standing beside her.
Her mind swirled
