Troy sat on the sofa beside his wife, the wiry computer mogul sliding an arm around Hillary’s shoulders. “I’m glad we were able to resolve the issue so quickly.”
Yet it felt like she’d spent a lifetime with Rowan and the baby.
Hillary settled into her husband’s arm. “Mari, did Rowan tell you the tip that helped us put the pieces together came from the press coverage you brought in?”
“No, not that I remember.” Although he might have said something and she missed it. Since she’d heard Issa was leaving, Mari had been in a fog.
“Thanks to the huge interest your name inspired, we were contacted by a nurse whose story sounded legit. We showed her the composite sketch we’d pieced together from the different camera angles.” Hillary rambled on, filling the tense silence. “She identified the woman as a patient she’d helped through delivery. From there, the rest of the pieces came together. She never would have heard about this if not for you and Rowan. You orchestrated this perfectly, Mari.”
“With your help. Rowan is lucky to have such great friends.”
And with those words she realized she didn’t have people to reach out to in a crisis. She had work acquaintances, and she had family members she kept at arm’s length. She spent her life focused on her lab. She’d sealed herself off from the world, running from meaningful relationships as surely as she ran from the press. Shutting herself away from her parents’ disapproval—her father wanting her to assume her role of princess, her mother encouraging her to be a rebellious child embracing a universe beyond. Ultimately she’d disappointed them both. Rowan and this baby were her first deep connections in so long….
And it was tearing her apart to say goodbye to them.
She didn’t want this pain. She wanted her safe world back. The quiet and order of her research lab, where she could quantify results and predict outcomes.
The buzzer sounded again and Mari bit her lip to keep from shouting in denial. Damn it, she would stay in control. She would see this through in a calm manner, do nothing to upset Issa.
Even though every cell in her cried out in denial.
* * *
Rowan watched helplessly as Mari passed the baby over to her relatives—a couple he’d made damn sure to investigate to the fullest. He’d relocated orphans countless times in his life and he’d always been careful, felt the weight of responsibility.
Never had that weight felt this heavy on his shoulders.
He studied the couple, in their fifties, the husband in a crisp linen suit, the wife in a colorful dress with a matching headscarf. The aunt took Issa from Mari’s arms while the uncle held a diaper bag.
Mari twisted her hands in front of her, clearly resisting the temptation to yank the baby back. “She likes to be held close, but facing outward so she can see what’s going on. And you have to burp her after every ounce of formula or she spits up. She likes music—”
Her voice cracked.
The aunt placed a hand on her arm. “Thank you for taking such good care of little Issa, Princess. If we had known about our niece’s intentions, we would have volunteered to take Issa immediately. But when a young mother assures you she is fine, who would ever think to step in and offer to take her child? Trust us though, we will shower her with love. We will make sure she always knows you have been her guardian angel….”
With teary eyes, Mari nodded, but said nothing.
Troy stepped into the awkward silence. “My wife and I will escort you to your car through a back entrance to be sure the press doesn’t overrun you.”
Thank God, Troy quickly ushered them out before this hellish farewell tore them all in half. Rowan stole one last look at the baby’s sweet chubby-cheeked face, swallowed hard and turned to Mari. No doubt she needed him more now.
The second the door closed behind the Donavans, Mari’s legs folded.
She sank into the rocking chair again, nearly doubled over as she gulped in air. Her lovely face tensed with pain as she bit her lower lip. “Rowan, I don’t think,” she gasped, “I can’t…I can’t give my presentation this afternoon.”
He understood the feeling. Rowan hooked his arm around her shoulders. “I’ll call the conference coordinator. I’ll tell them you’re sick.”
“But I’m never sick.” She looked up at him with bemused eyes, bright with unshed tears. “I never bow out at work. What’s wrong with me?”
“You’re grieving.” So was he. Something about this child was different, maybe because of the role she’d played in bringing Mari to him. Maybe because of the Christmas season. Or perhaps simply because the little tyke had slipped past the defenses he worked so hard to keep in place as he faced year after year of treating bone-crushing poverty and sickness. “You’re human.”
“I only knew her a few days. She’s not my child….” Mari pressed a hand to her chest, rubbing a wound no less deep for not being visible. “I shouldn’t be this upset.”
“You loved her—you still do.” He shifted around to kneel in front of her, stroking her face, giving Mari comfort—a welcome distraction when he needed it most. “That’s clear to anyone who saw you with her.”
“I know, damn it.” She blinked back tears. “I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to feel any of this. I just need…this.”
Mari grabbed his shirt front, twisted her fist in the fabric and yanked him toward her as she fell into him. Rowan absorbed their fall with his body, his shoulders meeting the thick carpet. Mari blanketed him, her mouth meeting his with a frenzy and intensity there was no denying. She’d found an outlet for her grief and he was damn well ready to help her with that. They both needed this.
Needed an outlet for all the frustrated emotions roaring through the room.
She wriggled her hips erotically against his ready arousal. A moan of pleasure slipped from her lips as she nipped his ear. There was no need to be silent any longer. Their suite was empty. Too empty. Their first encounter had been focused on staying quiet, in control as they discovered each other for the first time.
Tonight, control didn’t exist.
He pushed those thoughts away and focused on Mari, on making sure she was every bit as turned on as he was. He gathered the hem of her dress and bunched it until he found the sweet curve of her bottom. He guided her against him, met her with a rolling rhythm of his own, a synchronicity they’d discovered together last night.