The tableau had a Madonna-and-child air. Maybe it was just the holidays messing with his head. If he wanted his half-baked plan to work, he needed to keep his head on straight and figure out how to get her on board with helping him.
“How’s Issa doing?”
Mari looked up quickly, as if startled. She held up the empty bottle. “All done with her feeding.”
“I’m surprised you’re still sticking around. Your fans must have given up by now. The coast will be clear back to your room.”
Saying that, he realized he should have mentioned those overzealous royal watchers to Salvatore. Perhaps some private security might be in order. There was a time he didn’t have the funds for things like that, back in the days when he was buried in the debt of school loans, before he’d gone into partnership with a computer-whiz classmate of his.
“Mari? Are you going back to your room?” he repeated.
“I still feel responsible for her.” Mari smoothed a finger along the baby’s chubby cheek. “And the police will want to speak to me. If I’m here, it will move things along faster.”
“You do realize the odds are low that her parents will be found tonight,” he said, laying the groundwork for getting her to stick around.
“Of course, I understand.” She thumbed aside a hint of milk in the corner of the infant’s mouth. “That doesn’t stop me from hoping she’ll have good news soon.”
“You sure seem like a natural with her. Earlier, you said you never babysat.”
She shrugged self-consciously. “I was always busy studying.”
“There were no children in your world at all?” He sat beside her, drawing in the scent of her flowery perfume. Curiosity consumed him, a desperate need to know exactly what flower she smelled like, what she preferred.
“My mother and father don’t have siblings. I’m the only child of only children.”
This was the closest to a real conversation they’d ever exchanged, talk that didn’t involve work or bickering. He couldn’t make a move on her, not with the baby right here in the room. But he could feel her relaxing around him. He wanted more of that, more of her, this exciting woman who kept him on his toes.
What would she do if he casually stretched his arm along the back of the sofa? Her eyes held his and instead of moving, he stayed stock-still, looking back at her, unwilling to risk breaking the connection—
The phone jangled harshly across the room.
Mari jolted. The baby squawked.
And Rowan smiled. This particular moment to get closer to Mari may have ended. But make no mistake, he wasn’t giving up. He finally had a chance to explore the tenacious desire that had been dogging him since he’d first seen her.
Anticipation ramped through him at the thought of persuading her to see this connection through to its natural—and satisfying—conclusion.
Three
Pacing in front of the sitting room window, Mari cradled the baby against her shoulder as Rowan talked with the local police. Sure, the infant had seemed three months old when she’d looked at her, but holding her? Little Issa felt younger, more fragile.
Helpless.
So much about this evening didn’t add up. The child had been abandoned yet she seemed well cared for. Beyond her chubby arms and legs, she had neatly trimmed fingernails and toenails. Her clothes were simple, but clean. She smelled freshly bathed. Could she have been kidnapped as revenge on someone? Growing up, Mari had been constantly warned of the dangers of people who would try to hurt her to get back at her father, as well as people would use her to get close to her father. Trusting anyone had been all but impossible.
She shook off the paranoid thoughts and focused on the little life in her arms. Mari stroked the baby’s impossibly soft cheeks, tapped the dimple in her chin. Did she look like her mother or father? Was she missed? Round chocolate-brown eyes blinked up at her trustingly.
Her heart squeezed tight in her chest in a totally illogical way. She’d only just met the child, for heaven’s sake, and she ached to press a kiss to her forehead.
Mari glanced to the side to see if Rowan had observed her weak moment, but he was in the middle of finishing up his phone conversation with the police.
Did he practice looking so hot? Even in jeans, he owned the room. Her eyes were drawn to the breadth of his shoulders, the flex of muscles in his legs as he shuffled from foot to foot, his loafers expensive but well worn. He exuded power and wealth without waste or conspicuous consumption. How could he be such a good man and so annoying at the same time?
Rowan hung up the phone and turned, catching her studying him. He cocked an eyebrow. She forced herself to stare back innocently, her chin tipping even as her body tingled with awareness.
“What did the police say?” she asked casually, swaying from side to side in a way she’d found the baby liked.
“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