A Daddy For Christmas. Alison Roberts
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“They’re just arriving outside the hotel.” He closed the three feet between them. “They’re on their way up to take her.”
“That’s it?” Her arms tightened around Issa. “She’ll be gone minutes from now? Did they say where they will be sending her? I have connections of my own. Maybe I can help.”
His blue eyes were compassionate, weary. “You and I both already know what will happen to her. She will be sent to a local orphanage while the police use their limited resources to look into her past, along with all the other cases and other abandoned kids they have in their stacks of files to investigate. Tough to hear, I realize. But that’s how it is. We do what we can, when we can.”
“I understand.” That didn’t stop the frustration or the need to change things for this innocent child in her arms and all the children living in poverty in her country.
He scooped the baby from her before she could protest. “But that’s not how it has to be today. We can do something this time.”
“What do you mean?” She crossed her empty arms over her chest, hope niggling at her that Rowan had a reasonable solution.
“We only have a few more minutes before they arrive so I need to make this quick.” He hefted the baby onto his shoulder and rubbed her back in small, hypnotic circles. “I think we should offer to watch Issa.”
Thank heaven he was holding the child because he’d stunned Mari numb. She watched his hand smoothing along the baby’s back and tried to gather her thoughts. “Um, what did you say?”
“We’re both clearly qualified and capable adults.” His voice reverberated in soothing waves. “It would be in the best interest of the child, a great Christmas message of goodwill, for us to keep her.”
Keep her?
Mari’s legs folded out from under her and she sank to the edge of the leather sofa. She couldn’t have heard him right. She’d let her attraction to him distract her. “What did you say?”
He sat beside her, his thigh pressing warm and solid against hers. “We can have temporary custody of her, just for a couple of weeks to give the police a chance to find out if she has biological relatives able to care for her.”
“Have you lost your mind?” Or maybe she had lost hers because she was actually tempted by his crazy plan.
“Not that I know of.”
She pressed the back of her wrist to her forehead, stunned that he was serious. Concerns cycled through her head about work and the hoopla of a media circus. “This is a big decision for both of us, something that should be thought over carefully.”
“In medicine I have to think fast. I don’t always have the luxury of a slow and steady scientific exam,” he said, with a wry twist to his lips. “Years of going with my gut have honed my instincts, and my instincts say this is the right thing to do.”
Her mind settled on his words and while she never would have gotten to that point on her own, the thought of this baby staying with him rather than in some institution was appealing. “So you’ll be her temporary guardian?”
“Our case is more powerful if we offer to do this as a partnership. Both of us.” His deep bass and logic drew her in. “Think of the positive PR you’ll receive. Your father’s press corps will be all over this philanthropic act of yours, which should take some pressure off you at the holidays,” he offered, so logically she could almost believe him.
“It isn’t as simple as that. The press can twist things, rumors will start about both of us.” What if they thought it was her baby? She squeezed her eyes closed and bolted off the sofa. “I need more time.”
The buzzer rang at the door. Her heart went into her throat.
She heard Rowan follow her. Felt the heat of him at her back. Felt the urgency.
“Issa doesn’t have time, Mari. You need to decide if you’ll do this. Decide to commit now.”
She turned sharply to find him standing so close the three of them made a little family circle. “But you could take her on your own—”
“Maybe the authorities would accept that. But maybe not. We should lead with our strongest case. For her.” He cradled the baby’s head. “We didn’t ask for this, but we’re here.” Fine lines fanned from the corners of his eyes, attesting to years of worry and long hours in the sun. “We may disagree on a lot of things, but we’re people who help.”
“You’re guilt-tripping me,” she accused in the small space between them, her words crackling like small snaps of electricity. And the guilt was working. Her concerns about gossip felt absolutely pathetic in light of the plight of this baby.
As much as she gave Rowan hell about his computer inventions, she knew all about his humanitarian work at the charity clinic. He devoted his life to helping others. He had good qualities underneath that arrogant charm.
“Well, people like us who help in high-stakes situations learn to use whatever means are at our disposal.” He half smiled, creasing the lines deeper. “Is it working?”
Those lines from worry and work were real. She might disapprove of his methods, but she couldn’t question his motivations, his altruistic spirit. Seeing him deftly rock the baby to sleep ended any argument. For this one time at least, she was on his team.
For Issa.
“Open the door and you’ll find out.”
* * *
Three hours later, Mari watched Rowan close the hotel door after the police. Stacks of paperwork rested on the table, making it official. She and Rowan had temporary custody of the baby while the police investigated further and tried to track down the employee who’d walked away from the cart.
Issa slept in her infant seat, secure for now.
Mari sighed in relief, slumping in exhaustion back onto the sofa. She’d done it. She’d played the princess card and all but demanded the police obey her “request” to care for the baby until Christmas—less than two weeks away—or until more information could be found about Issa’s parents. She’d agreed to care for the child with Rowan Boothe, a doctor who’d saved countless young lives. The police had seemed relieved to have the problem resolved so easily. They’d taken photos of the baby and prints. They would look into the matter, but their faces said they didn’t hold out much hope of finding answers.
Maybe she should hire a private detective to look deeper than the police. Except it was almost midnight now. Any other plans would have to wait until morning.
Rowan rested a hand on Mari’s shoulder. “Would you get my medical bag so I can do a more thorough checkup? It’s in the bedroom by my shaving kit. I’d like to listen to her heart.”
He squeezed her shoulder once, deliciously so, until her mouth dried right up from that simple touch.
“Medical bag.” She shot to her feet. “Right, of course.”
She was too tired and too unsettled to fight off the sensual allure of him right now. She stepped into Rowan’s bedroom, her eyes drawn to