The Child They Didn't Expect

by Yvonne Lindsay

  Ali pulled her head away, her breath coming in rapid gasps, her hands falling to his wrists where she gently forced him to let her go.

  “Ronin, I—” she started.

  He pressed a short kiss to her mouth, fighting the need to make it more persuasive. He knew he could. But that didn’t mean she’d welcome it, or him—especially when she’d been the first to disengage from their embrace.

  “Don’t,” he said gruffly. “No need for an explanation. It’s okay.”

  They were difficult words to enunciate when every cell, every nerve, in his body clamored for their contact to resume. For each wet kiss, for each fervent touch, to progress to its natural conclusion. Ronin forced his recalcitrant libido back under control.

  Ali dipped her head. “I’m sorry.” The words were so quiet he wasn’t even sure he’d heard right. “I’d better go.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I’m not. You’re a beautiful woman, Ali Carter—inside and out. I want to know you better, and I’m prepared to wait if that’s what it takes.”

  How long he could continue to wait might be an issue, he thought as his flesh strained against the confines of his briefs. But then again, that’s what punishing workouts at midnight in his home gym and icy cold showers were for, right?

  She lifted her face and looked at him. “Where are we going with this, Ronin?”

  He’d have thought that was obvious. “I’d like to think we’re getting to know one another.”

  “You’re my client.”

  “And I’d like to be more.” Much more.

  She shook her head. “No. Look, what I said before about Hawaii, about that not being me? I meant it. I’m not normally that person. That’s not to say that I regret it—what we did together was, well, great. But that’s all it was. A holiday fling. A one-off. I’m not in the market for anything else, Ronin. I’ve been hurt before. Badly hurt. I will not put myself through that again.”

  A primitive roar surged within him. He wanted to protect her, to wipe the slate clean of her past hurts, past regrets. He wanted to make her world right. But she had to let him. The ultimate control lay within her.

  “I don’t plan to hurt you, Ali. Anything, everything, but that.”

  She shook her head. “There are things about me you don’t know. I’ve been married before, for starters.”

  “And you aren’t now, which makes getting to know you a great deal simpler, wouldn’t you say?”

  She shook her head. “Don’t joke about this, Ronin. It’s not open to discussion.”

  “I’m sorry. I know firsthand how you feel about infidelity, and if it’s any consolation, I feel the same way. But I’m not prepared to give up on you, Ali Carter. We first met by accident. We were lucky enough to meet again. Some might call it fate, but I don’t believe in that. What I do believe in is what I know, what I can substantiate—that we potentially have something I’ve never had with anyone before. Give us a chance.”

  He studied her carefully. Her lips, still glistening with moisture, were softly swollen from his kiss. Her skin was flushed, her breathing shallow. A pulse leapt at the base of her throat. But her eyes made him draw in a breath and take a moment. While her body showed all the signs of arousal, her eyes still held shadows. Who was it, he thought, who had done such a number on her? Who had hurt her so badly that she could do what he was unable to and put mental strength before physical demand when it came to their fiery attraction?

  She shook her head again, more emphatically this time. “Please respect me on this. Let’s keep our relationship purely business. If you don’t agree, I don’t think I can continue to work for you.”

  He sighed and shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “Okay. Business.” For now, he added silently.

  * * *

  Ali had double-checked the supplies in the kitchen and triple-checked the nursery. Everything was perfect for the baby’s homecoming today. The past few days since their lunch together had been...well, difficult. While Ronin hadn’t put any pressure on her, she could still feel the hunger that rolled off him in waves every time they were together. A hunger that she had to admit she shared. Even though he’d spent more time at his office in the city, they’d still crossed paths a few times, and each time she’d felt every cell in her body go on alert. She didn’t know what was worse. Anticipating their meetings or arriving at the house—like she had today—and finding he wasn’t there.

  At least her role was coming to an end. It was finally okay for the baby to come home, so Ronin had organized to collect his nephew, together with his parents, and bring them all back to his house this afternoon. For the first week the baby was home, Ronin and parents would care for him, and from next week, the rotation of nannies would begin. It had been a big job to pull together in the time they’d had, but it was done—and done to perfection, Ali thought as she swiped an imaginary speck of dust from the top rail of the baby’s crib.

  He wouldn’t be sleeping there any time soon, though, she thought with a smile. While he was still small he’d be in the adorable bassinet she’d found online and had express-shipped here two days ago.

  She hated to admit it, but this job had become a complete labor of love. She’d always managed to maintain a degree of separation during nursery fit outs before. It had been something she’d learned to do out of necessity. It was one thing to pour all your love and expectations for a child into your work—quite another when you got too invested and forgot that the children you worked to care for would never be your own. No, emotional distance was key. But with this job it had been different.

  Maybe it was because of the circumstances of this infant’s birth, or maybe it had more to do with the man who’d become the child’s guardian. Either way, Ali had poured her heart into every last detail. The room was perfect. She took one last glance and then turned to put it, and Ronin Marshall, behind her.

  She was at the top of the main stairs when she heard a car pull up outside. How had someone gotten through the main gates? She wasn’t expecting any deliveries, and to spare herself the turmoil, she had planned to be gone before Ronin and his parents returned with the baby. So who could it be?

  A car door closed, and, after a pause, another. She heard footsteps coming into the front portico. A few seconds later, the door opened to reveal an older, slightly shorter version of Ronin, carrying an infant car seat.

  His face was gray and drawn, his faded blue eyes filled with anxiety.

  “Oh, thank God you’re here!” he said with vehement relief.

  “Mr. Marshall?”

  “Yes,” he answered. “My wife, she collapsed at the hospital as we were leaving with the baby—they’ve taken her into the ER. I have to get back to her, but someone needs to care for my grandson, here.”

  “Ronin was called to fly out urgently just as we arrived at the hospital. He said he’d ring you and see if you could bring the start date forward for the nannies. That’s what you’re waiting here for, isn’t it? For the nanny to arrive? Please say that’s so.”

  Ronin had called her? Ali felt a clutch in her chest. She’d left her phone in her bag at the bottom of the stairs when she’d arrived. Being upstairs, she wouldn’t have heard it ring. The house phone had sounded a few times, but with it not being her home she’d left it unanswered. None of that mattered right now, though, as Ronin’s father appeared increasingly distraught.

  “Don’t worry, Mr. Marshall, I’ll take care of things.”

  He thrust the baby carrier toward her.

  “Thank you. I’d stay, but I really must get back. I just knew this would all be too much for Delia. We’d just gotten to the car when she collapsed. Before they took her into ER she made me promise I’d bring our grandson out here, to his new home. And anyway, I couldn’t wait around the ER with him.”

  “I understand,” Ali said soothingly, even though
inside her nerves were jumping like water droplets on a hot skillet. “He’ll be fine with me for now. You take care on the trip back to town, okay?”

  He looked at her a moment, his eyes stricken. “I will. Thank you. I can see why Ronin speaks so highly of you, and why he was so certain you’d have things under control.”

  He did? A bloom of warmth filled her heart. Ali adjusted the weight of the car seat in her arms and looked down at the tiny life cocooned in there. Her heart flipped over. She’d wanted to avoid this—potentially falling in love with the tiny tot—but one glance and she was done for. Only a couple of weeks old and he’d already lost so much. She ached to cuddle him close and make him feel loved.

  “I will take good care of him,” she promised, her voice infused with all the assurance she was capable of.

  “I’ll be off then.” He was already halfway down the front stairs when he realized he still had a bag filled with baby supplies on his shoulder. “I’d better leave this with you, too. It’s some formula and clothes and other things that Delia put together for his homecoming, as well as the release notes from the hospital.”

  “Thank you. If you could leave it just inside I’ll grab it once I’ve settled him in his bassinet.”

  Ronin’s father’s gaze lingered on his grandson. “Delia so wanted to be here when he came home. When Ronin had to leave us at the hospital and go straight out to the airport she was adamant that we carry on as planned. She didn’t want the baby in the hospital a moment longer than he needed to be. Ronin doesn’t even know his mother’s ill. I hope she’ll be okay.” His voice broke on the words. “She’s got to be.”

  “Mr. Marshall.” Ali placed one hand on his trembling arm. “Your wife is in the best place possible. Don’t you worry about a thing here. I have it all under control, okay? You go and be where you’re most needed. Call the house if you want to check on us, or if you want to let me know how Mrs. Marshall is doing.”

  “I will,” he said, and with a half-hearted attempt at a wave he walked swiftly toward his car.

  It was only once he’d driven away that Ali realized that no one had told her the baby’s name. Not once in the past week and a half with Ronin had he mentioned it, and she’d been too startled to find Ronin’s father on the front steps just now to even think of asking him. What was she supposed to call him? Baby X? Think, she urged her sluggish brain. The solution presented itself almost immediately. Of course, his name would be on the release notes tucked in the diaper bag.

  Ali closed the front door and looked again at the sleeping child. The enormity of what she’d just agreed to do settled over her like a lead cloak as anxiety coiled like a snake in the pit of her belly. It would only be for a few hours, max, she assured herself as she began to ascend the stairs. As soon as baby was settled, she’d be on the phone to the nanny service to see who would be able to start early.

  Her stomach did a nervous flip as the infant squirmed a little—his tiny face screwing up, his mouth twisting—before, to her great relief, he settled again. What would she do if he cried? The logical side of her brain kicked into action. It wasn’t difficult, she tried to assure herself. She knew the basics. Besides, if he was still at risk, they wouldn’t have released him from the hospital today. She’d do whatever needed doing. She’d check his diaper, she’d feed him if he needed feeding, and if none of that worked, well, she’d just hold him.

  Hold him. The thought in itself shouldn’t have made her tremble with anxiety. She’d handled babies before. Her three older sisters had seven kids between them and Ali had been hands-on at every stage of her nieces’ and nephews’ lives. This shouldn’t be any different, she assured herself as she carried the car seat upstairs to the nursery. This shouldn’t be any different at all.

  And yet, when it came to unbuckling the belt that secured him, she was all thumbs.

  “This is ridiculous,” she muttered to herself. “Get your act together.”

  Unsnapping the clip, she eased the straps away from the baby’s tiny body and scooped her hands beneath him, taking extra care to support his head. He was so small, so light—like a doll almost. And yet he was strong and tenacious, as well. He’d fought through a tough delivery and against breathing difficulties to be well enough to get released from hospital. There was no need to be unduly concerned about him. All she needed to do until help arrived was provide him with a safe place to sleep and food to eat. She could do that.

  Ali held his tiny body against her chest as she pulled back the cover on the bassinet. He nestled against her automatically, as if seeking that nurturing care that only a cuddle could bring. It was with great reluctance that she laid him on the pristine white sheet that covered the mattress. His little arms flung out as she released him, startling him awake. She looked for the first time into his blue eyes.

  “There, there,” she soothed, rubbing his chest until his eyes slid closed again.

  Before she pulled the coverlet up, she saw the hospital ID tag that remained on his ankle. His name was right there. Although the surname had become obscured, his first name stood out clearly—Joshua. Tears stung her eyes and she drew in a deep breath to combat the painful wrench that pulled at her from deep inside. Joshua was the name she and Richard had chosen for their firstborn child, if he were to be a boy. Except their firstborn child had never even been conceived.

  It shouldn’t hurt this much, she told herself. Lots of little boys the world over were called Joshua. It was a lovely name, a great name—that’s why she and her ex had chosen it themselves. But somehow, knowing this poor motherless child was named Joshua was her undoing.

  First one tear, then another, slid down her face. She swallowed a gulp of grief for the baby boy she’d never have and forced herself to tuck Joshua into his bassinet, and then she left the room. Outside she leaned against the wall until she could get her emotions under control. This was too hard, too much. She needed to contact the agency and get the appropriate help so she could get out of here right now. She cursed the fact she hadn’t received any of Ronin’s calls and fervently wished she could speak to him right now, but if he was in the air already and on his way to Vietnam it would be hours before he’d land. Besides, even if she reached him, what would she say? That she didn’t want to care for his nephew because the baby reminded her of all she couldn’t have?

  Instead she straightened slowly from the wall, squared her shoulders and silently stepped back into the nursery to check on Joshua. He was still exactly as she’d left him. She needlessly adjusted his covers then activated the baby monitor and left to go downstairs. In the kitchen she activated the monitor’s partner unit and then she delved into her handbag for her phone. Three missed calls and one new message. She listened to the message—it was from Ronin, as she’d expected.

  His warm, deep voice filled her ear, and she told herself it was ridiculous to feel a sense of relief at his tone. There was nothing he could do for her right now. He’d left on business secure in the knowledge that his nephew was being cared for—now it was up to her to make sure that happened. After explaining how long he’d probably be away and asking her to organize at least one of the nannies to start earlier to help his parents, he closed off with, “I’ll call you as soon as I land in Hanoi.”

  Well, she had to be satisfied with that. There was nothing else she could do for now except leave a message on his phone and, given what the family had been through already, to assure him that she had everything under control. She said nothing of his mother’s urgent admission to hospital. It wouldn’t be fair to impart that kind of news in a message. He needed to hear that person-to-person. With a deep sigh, she scrolled through her contacts for the nanny service she’d used and pressed Call.

  Sixty minutes of frustration later, Ali was forced to admit defeat. Ronin’s initial brief on what he wanted in a nanny had been explicit. He wanted people with neonatal care experience and a proven track re
cord as a private nanny in the bargain. He already had the four best candidates for the position lined up to work in rotating twelve-hour shifts, four days on, four days off—starting next week. Not a single one could start any earlier and, given their expertise and the demand for their skills, Ali wasn’t all that surprised. And the backup candidates she’d considered had all accepted other placements.

  Even calls to a private nursing agency had proven fruitless, and she already knew the other agencies she’d used from time to time currently had no one suitable and available on their books.

  A squawk over the monitor had her heart pounding. Joshua was waking. He’d need attention, and there was no one else here but her to give it to him. She flew up the stairs and into the nursery, where his reedy cry built up in tempo. She scooped him up into her arms and began to rock from side to side, humming a tuneless sound in an attempt to soothe him.

  Yes, she’d assured Ronin’s dad that the baby would be all right and that she’d look after things, but that was when she’d thought she’d be able to hand over the responsibility to someone who was far more experienced and capable with an infant than she was herself. She wasn’t in any way as qualified as the nannies Ronin had selected to care for this poor mother-and fatherless babe. But right here, right now? It was she who was left holding the baby.

  Literally.

  Seven

  Ronin disembarked from the plane and strode through the airport, getting through customs and immigration with the weary acceptance of a frequent long-distance traveler. It had never bothered him before, but after four frustratingly endless days it seemed to him that this game was most definitely for someone else. Someone, perhaps, who had less responsibility here at home.