Dylan and the Baby Doctor

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“Why are you here? What’s happened?” she demanded, standing toe-to-toe with him.

He put his hands on her shoulders. “Shh,” he soothed. “It’s okay. Nothing’s happened. I just came over to relieve Lizzy for a bit. She said she’d sent you up to take a bath. When you didn’t come back down, I thought I’d better check on you.”

“Are you sure that’s all?” she asked, still shaky.

“That’s all. I swear it. If we find out something, I’ll tell you,” he promised, his gaze locked with hers. “I won’t hide anything.”

“Even if it’s bad?” she insisted.

He nodded. “Even if it’s bad.”

She believed him. There was something in his expression, something in the way he held her that made her believe that Dylan Delacourt would never lie to her. She had the feeling he was the kind of man who told the unvarnished truth, even when it was painful. She found that reassuring.

“Sorry I overreacted,” she apologized.

“Sorry I intruded on your bath,” he said, though the glimmer in his eyes suggested otherwise.

Disconcerted by the attraction that was totally inappropriate given the circumstances, Kelsey backed up a step. Dylan allowed his hands to fall away from her shoulders. She almost regretted that, but she faced him squarely.

“You look like hell,” she observed. His cheeks were shadowed with the beginnings of a beard. He looked exhausted. “Give me a minute to get some clothes on and I’ll fix breakfast. You can tell me what you did all night.”

“Take your time. I’ll cook,” he said. “Have you got eggs and bacon? Scrambled okay?”

“Just toast for me.”

“You need the protein,” he said decisively and headed for the stairs.

Kelsey stared after him. She’d never had anyone around who showed the slightest inclination to take care of her. After all, she was a cool, competent doctor. Everyone knew she was the caregiver. Dylan apparently hadn’t caught on to that yet. But he would, she thought with a sigh. For now, though, it was rather nice to take a few extra minutes dressing and know that when she got downstairs breakfast would be waiting.

Even if she wasn’t hungry. Even if she had no intention of eating it.

Well, that was sweet, Delacourt, Dylan thought to himself as he marched back downstairs. Ogle the woman in her bath, why don’t you? But he hadn’t been able to tear his gaze away. Kelsey was an attractive woman and that baggy T-shirt and shorts he’d seen her wearing earlier had done nothing to enhance her natural beauty. Out of those, with all of her on display, so to speak, it was evident that she was a sensual, voluptuous woman. What man wouldn’t look?

One who was concentrating on his job, he retorted mentally.

Kelsey James was a single mom whose boy was missing, not a potential pickup in some bar, he scolded himself as he went through her refrigerator, collecting eggs, bacon and butter. He found a pitcher of fresh orange juice and took that out, as well. By the time Kelsey joined him, he had breakfast on the table and his libido firmly in check.

That didn’t mean he didn’t cast a surreptitious gaze over her—just to make sure she was handling things okay, he assured himself. There were shadows under her eyes and her complexion was pale, but beyond that she appeared to be in control.

“Sorry about losing it for a minute upstairs,” she said.

“Don’t apologize. You’re entitled to lose it every once in a while.”

She glanced toward the phone, her expression forlorn. “Why doesn’t he call back?”

“He will.”

“The waiting is the worst. I’m used to being in charge, to being decisive. I make things better. I don’t just sit around waiting.”

“Always?” Dylan asked skeptically. “Aren’t there times when even you can’t control the rate at which a patient responds to treatment? Haven’t you ever told a parent they just need to sit tight and wait?”

She frowned. “Okay, yes. I guess the difference is that I know how long it’s likely to take for a medicine to kick in. I expect the delays. With this…” She shrugged, her expression helpless. “I don’t know anything.”

“What would you tell the parent of a sick child?”

“To be patient. To have faith. Pray.”

“Don’t you think maybe the same thing applies now?” he suggested.

Her expression brightened ever so slightly. “Yes. I suppose you’re right. Patience and faith,” she reiterated, as if he’d just given her a new mantra to recite. “Patience and faith.”

She gazed at him then. “Thanks.”

“Kelsey, let’s establish a couple of ground rules. No more thanks. No more apologies. Deal?”

She nodded, started to say something, then cut herself off. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

He grinned. “Caught yourself, huh? That’s a start.”

“How do you stand it?” she asked then.

Dylan wasn’t sure what she was asking. “What?”

“Searching for a missing kid?”

He hesitated. He didn’t want to lie to her, but for some reason he also didn’t want her to lose confidence in him. Funny, when a few hours ago he would have given anything not to be involved in this case.

“I don’t do it often,” he said, choosing his words with care. “I usually prefer to turn this sort of case over to another private investigator.”

“Why?”

“It’s not my area of specialty, that’s all.”

She seemed shaken by that, just as he’d feared. “Then why did you agree to help?”

“Because I was here and it’s best to get started immediately in a situation like this. There wasn’t time to get another private eye in here.” He leveled a look straight into her eyes, regretting the doubts that he had put there. “I won’t let you down, Kelsey.”

She kept her eyes locked with his, then nodded. “I know. Is that why you seemed so—I don’t know—reluctant last night?”

So she had noticed that, had she? He’d have to remember that she was good at reading people. She probably had to do that a lot with kids who couldn’t—or wouldn’t—describe what was going on with them. He realized now that he wouldn’t be able to hide anything from her.

Because he didn’t want to get into the other reason for his reluctance, he took the easy way out and said, “Yes, that’s exactly why.” He rocked back in his chair. “But I’m in this now, Kelsey. We’re going to find Bobby and bring him home.”