A Mother For His Adopted Son. Lynne Marshall
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plans to retire as soon as I’m ready and willing to take over.” She stood, which hardly made a difference. What was she, five feet, tops? And jumped right in with an explanation. “And, for all I knew, she could’ve been swept away by the beauty of Europe and decided not to come home. To retire on the spot. It could’ve happened.”
Her outlandish cover nearly made him smile. Nearly. But he held firm because he found himself enjoying her flushed cheeks and her mildly flaring nostrils as she explained, her raccoon-painted eyes taking on more of a fawn-ready-to-bolt appearance.
“Which makes it okay that you lied to me?” He wasn’t ready to let her off the hook, though.
She stepped around the counter, taking two steps toward him, never breaking the visual connection, which was surprisingly stimulating. “You came in with a nasty attitude that day and proceeded to make me feel like a novice who couldn’t possibly be of help to you. So I decided not to be any help at all.”
So that’s how she’d read him. For a second he felt like a chump, but she deserved the full story. An explanation for why he’d been that jerk. “I’d just come from watching my son’s enucleation. I needed reassurance he could look normal again.”
Her challenging expression instantly melted into an apologetic peacemaking plea. “Oh.” Those huge eyes immediately watered. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“Dr.—” Judith read his name badge “—Marcus, I’m sorry the two of you got off to a rocky start, I’m also very sorry about your son, but I assure you Andrea is as skilled as they come. And because I’m completely booked up with projects, having just returned from vacation, she’d be happy to help you with your son’s eye prosthesis. I assure you, with her artistic background, she’ll make a perfect match and fit.”
Andrea sent a quick questioning glance toward her grandmother but immediately recovered, as if she’d gotten the clear message to play along. Was she a novice? Sam still wasn’t convinced. She looked so young.
“So, what I’ll need to do—” Andrea used an index finger to lightly scratch the corner of her mouth “—is make an appointment for you to bring in your son. Is he completely healed yet? We shouldn’t take measurements until he is.”
“It’s only been a week, but he’s doing really well.”
“Let’s make it next week, then, to be safe. I’ll need to take photos of his other eye and make a silicone cast of his healed eye socket. After that I’ll make a wax version, which I’ll be able to mold as needed to fit. What’s your son’s name?”
“Danilo, but he goes by Dani.”
She nodded, sincerity oozing out of those huge brown eyes. “What day is good for you?” She brought up a calendar on the computer—back to business—and he fished out his pocket phone, tapping through to his work calendar.
Back and forth they went, politely trying to work out an appointment day and time. His schedule was overbooked, since he’d taken off a week to be with his son after the surgery, which was why he was aggravated that one of his patients was a no-show today and would need to be rescheduled, further keeping him backed up. Yet that was the only reason he’d been able to sneak down here at this moment, which had turned out to be a good thing. Which would all be beside the point if he couldn’t make an appointment.
At least for now, since his return to work, his former foster sister Cat could be Dani’s caregiver during the day. She lived within five miles of him and was a stay-at-home mom who needed the extra cash. Their arrangement worked out for everyone, since she also had two children under the age of five, and Dani loved to play with the other kids. He scratched his head, at a loss.
Why hadn’t he considered his work issue when he’d known Dani would need the prosthetic eye right off? The bigger question was why hadn’t he considered how difficult it would be to become a single father in the first place?
Of course, that hadn’t been his original plan …
Yeah, he was in over his head, but it made no difference, because he was proud and happy to be Dani’s father, no matter how hard and complicated life had become because of it. Add another point to foster Mom’s tally, the kid needed a home. “Do you do house calls, by any chance?”
Andrea dipped her head, thinking for a second. “No. But since I gave you a hard time last week, I’ll make an exception for you, Dr. Marcus.”
All was forgiven. Sweet brown-eyed angel from heaven. “Call me Sam, please,” he said, on a rush of relief. “I really appreciate that.”
Their earlier glowering contest faded to a distant memory when she smiled at him. It was more of a Mona Lisa smile, but it drew his attention to her mouth and he noticed a pair of classic lips with the delicate twin peaks of a Cupid’s bow.
“So how about this day next week, at your house, say, sevenish?”
“Sounds like a plan, Ms….?”
“Rimmer, but please call me Andrea.”
“Are you related to Dr. Rimmer?” The tyrant of Cardiac Surgery?
“Yes. Andrea’s my granddaughter,” Judith spoke up, reminding Sam that Dr. Rimmer was her son. Why he hadn’t made the connection earlier was beyond him.
“I hope you won’t hold that against me,” Andrea said drily, as though reading his thoughts and bearing the weight of her father’s perilous reputation. She glanced sheepishly at her grandmother, a good sign that Andrea cared about her and didn’t want to insult her son, though it seemed clear she knew what Sam’s surprised reaction had been about.
Since they’d skimmed over last week’s argument and had moved on to peace talks, he wouldn’t bring up his multiple grievances about the curmudgeon cardiac surgery department head who wanted to throw his weight around the entire hospital. Instead he dug deep into his bag of tricks and pulled out a smile. Admittedly, since his breakup with Katie, and Dani’s diagnosis, he’d nearly forgotten how, but seeing Andrea’s immediate relieved reaction, her expression brightening and those lovely lips parting into a grin, he was glad he had. Plus he’d meant that smile and it felt pretty damn good.
Because she was the first lady to get him riled up in ages, and he liked how that jacked up his ticker. She’d made him feel nearly human again.
“Next Tuesday, then. Seven. It’s a date, Andrea.”
ANDREA TAPPED ON the white front door of the boxy mid-century modern home in the hills above Glendale. She was about to ring the bell when the door swung open. Admittedly nervous about facing the handsome Dr. Sam Marcus on his turf, she grinned tensely until she saw him with an adorable little boy balanced on his hip and wearing an eye patch, then she relaxed.
“Come in,” he said, seeming more hospitable than she would have imagined considering their first two encounters.
“Hi,” she said, stepping inside onto expensive-looking white tile in the narrow entryway. “This must be Dani.” She moved closer to the little boy, raised her brows and gave a closed-mouth smile. He buried his face in his father’s shoulder. Ack, too much.
“Bashful,” Sam mouthed.
She nodded and pretended to ignore the adorable little person after that, as Sam bypassed the living room and walked her into the more inviting family room. It was large, square, open and with excellent sources of natural light from tall windows nearly covering one entire wall of the boxy ‘50s architecture. As it was late April, the sun stuck around longer and longer, and though his house abutted mixed-tree-covered hills and stood on metal stilts at the front, the angle at this time of day was perfect for maximum light. A thick brown carpet made her want to kick off her shoes and walk barefoot. Not sure what to do next, she set her backpack