“We thought it would be best to wait for you to get back and decide.” Jan looked everywhere but at him, embarrassment evident in the way her feet shifted on the linoleum floor.
“Wait…what?” Her words finally made sense in his jet-lagged brain. “Foster carer?”
“I believe it was arranged before they found you. They tried to contact your parents too but couldn’t get a relative to take the baby and she’s ready to go home so…”
“You needed the bed,” he finished.
“You know how it is,” Jan said, relief flooding through her voice. The situation was so much more awkward because they were colleagues.
“Well, I’m here now. I’ll let the foster carer know she can go home.” Adam strode into the room. “You can’t take her.”
“Who are you?” The blonde woman looked up long enough to address him before her gaze was again captured by the bundle of pink that shared his gene pool.
He faltered for a second, not expecting the foster carer to look so young or for his gaze to linger over her black high heeled boots. Now was definitely not the time to notice how the height of her footwear accentuated slim legs or how her wavy blonde hair looked as soft and springy as candyfloss.
“I’m the baby’s uncle, she’s coming home with me.” Adam’s tone was proprietary and overbearing but his heart was shredded so badly his normal compassion had taken temporary leave.
“I’m waiting for the social worker to arrive so the baby can be discharged. She’s the one who decided that the baby needed to go into foster care, take your argument up with her.” She spoke without looking at him. Adam wasn’t accustomed to being dismissed so quickly, most women seemed only too keen to fall at his feet and do his bidding.
“When the social worker arrives, I’ll tell her the same thing. The baby is coming with me.” Adam leaned a hip against the baby’s incubator, setting himself up for a fight.
“Okay.” The foster carer nodded, one finger stroking the baby’s impossibly smooth cheek, then her head snapped up. “You said you’re the baby’s relative?”
“Her uncle.”
Her cool blue eyes met his. “Then it’s a shame you weren’t around to help your sister when she needed her family.”
Adam pulled a hand through his hair, shocked at the vehemence in her tone. Up until that point, she had been cool but very polite. “I’ve been away.”
There was nothing he wanted more than to turn back the clock, stay in Seacrest and not leave for the aid mission it had taken him years to plan, but he hadn’t known Kate had relapsed. He still found it difficult to believe his sister had put drugs before her unborn child.
The blonde’s gaze took in his old t-shirt, frayed shorts and ended with his tattered flip-flops. “So I see.”
Adam’s already limited patience took a direct hit. Who did she think she was to judge him? He’d flown halfway round the world, practically non-stop, as soon as he received the message letting him know his baby sister was in a coma. By the time he was back in the country, it was too late. Kate was dead and a baby he hadn’t even known existed had been born by emergency caesarean section.
“Look, Miss ...” He paused, waiting for her to give her name. Her blue eyes were faintly accusatory now but she didn’t speak. “It doesn’t matter where I’ve been. All that matters is that I’m here now and ready to do the right thing for the baby.”
She folded her arms and faced him, long, wavy blonde hair falling over her shoulders, her feet planted slightly apart. “And what would that be?”
“I told you.” Adam sucked in a breath, forcing himself to keep his voice low and calm. “I’m taking her with me.”
She reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, the only visible sign that she was in the least bit affected by their conversation. “I’ve been asked to care for the baby whilst a decision is made for her future. You can’t just turn up and take over.”
“I think I can.” Adam tore his gaze away from the woman and leaned forward as the baby let out a sharp squeal.
Concentrating on the monitor the baby was hooked up to became harder when the woman also bent over the incubator, bringing a faintly floral scent that reminded him of long summer days and laughter.
The baby’s little body jerked violently and the machine beeped furiously. He looked around the special care baby unit, panic squeezing his heart. “Nurse!”
“It stops very quickly.” The blonde laid a hand on his arm.
Adam straightened as two paediatric nurses hurried over and allowed his clinical side to take over. “Baby Reynolds had a small convulsion together with an elevated heart rate. How often is this happening?”
“Approximately seven to eight times a day, slightly less often at night. They last only seconds.”