Million Dollar Baby. Lisa Jackson
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of soap and leather clung to him, overpowering the antiseptic odor that had filtered through the hospital corridors and into the elevator. “But I’ve learned to survive on catnaps. Five hours and it’s all over for me.” He studied her with that intense gaze that made her throat grow tight, but she held her ground as a bell announced they’d landed at ground level. “What about you?”
“Eight—at least. I’m running on empty now.”
He cocked a dubious eyebrow as they walked past the reception area and outside, where the sunlight was bright enough to hurt the eyes. Chandra reached into her purse for her sunglasses and noticed that O’Rourke squinted. The lines near his eyes deepened, adding a rugged edge to his profile. The man was handsome, she’d give him that. Dealing with him would be easier if he were less attractive, she thought.
“That reporter will be back,” he predicted. “He smells a story and isn’t about to leave it alone. You might be careful what you say.”
Though she knew the answer from personal experience, she wanted to hear his side of the story. “Why?”
His lips twisted into a thin line of disapproval and his eyes turned cold. “Words can be misconstrued, taken out of context, turned around.”
“Sounds like the voice of experience talking.”
“Just a warning. For your own good.”
He acted as if he were about to turn away, and Chandra impulsively grabbed the crook of his arm, restraining him. He turned sharply and his gaze landed on her with a force that made her catch her breath. She swallowed against the dryness in her throat and forced the words past her lips. “When can I see the baby? I mean, really see him—hold him.”
She didn’t remove her fingers and was aware of the tensing of his muscles beneath the sleeves of his shirt and jacket. “You want to hold him?”
“Oh, yes!” she cried, her emotion controlling her tongue.
“You feel something special for the child, some sort of bond?” he guessed.
“I…” She crumbled under the intensity of his gaze. “I guess I feel responsible.”
When he waited, for what she knew was further elaboration, she couldn’t help but ramble on. “I mean he was found on my property, in my barn. I can’t help but think that someone wanted me to find him.”
“That you were chosen?” He sounded as if he didn’t believe her, yet he didn’t draw his arm away.
“Yes. No. I mean—I don’t know.” She’d never been so confused in her life. Always she’d been a take-charge kind of individual, afraid of nothing, ready for any challenge. But one tiny newborn and one very intimidating man seemed to have turned her mind to mush. “Look, Doctor, I just want to hold the baby, if it’s okay with you.”
He hesitated, and his voice was a little kinder. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”
“What?” She couldn’t believe he would dissuade her now, after he’d called her to tell her the child had improved and then had let her stick around. But that warming trend had suddenly been reversed.
“Until the Sheriff’s Department sets this matter straight, I think it’s best for you and the child if you stayed away from the hospital until everything’s settled.”
Her hopes, which she had naively pinned on this man, collapsed. “But I thought—”
“I know what you thought,” O’Rourke said. “You thought that since I rescued you from those vultures, loosely called reporters, that I was on your side, that you could get at the kid through me. Well, unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way. Either you’re a relative of the child or you’re not. And I don’t like being used.”
“You called me,” she reminded him, and watched his lips tighten.
“I’ve had second thoughts.”
“To hell with your second thoughts!” Her temper, quickly rising, captured her tongue. “I’m not going to hurt the baby. I’m just someone who cares, Doctor. Someone who would like to offer that poor, abandoned child a little bit of love.”
“Or someone who enjoys all the attention she’s getting?”
“If that was the case, I wouldn’t have tried to throw the reporters out of the hospital, now, would I?”
That stopped him, and whatever he was about to say was kept inside. He stared at her a few minutes, his gaze fairly raking over her, as if he were examining her for flaws. She almost expected a sneer to curl his lip, but he was a little too civilized for outward disdain. “I’m just being straight with you. There’s a lot I don’t know about that baby who’s up in pediatrics, Ms. Hill. And a lot more I don’t know about you. If it were up to me, I’d let you hang around. Based on first impressions, I’m guessing that you do care something for the infant. But I don’t know that, the hospital administration doesn’t know that and Social Services doesn’t know that.”
He turned then, and left her standing in the middle of the parking lot, her mouth nearly dropping open.
* * *
HE DIDN’T UNDERSTAND why he’d come to her rescue in the hospital, only to shoot her down a peg or two.
Instinctively, Dallas knew that she was a different kind of woman than those he’d met. There was something about her that attracted him as well as caused him to be suspicious. She seemed at once strong willed and yet innocent, able to take care of herself and needing something—a man?—to lean upon occasionally.
There had been a desperation in her eyes, a pleading that he hadn’t been able to refuse in the hospital, but here, out in the light of day, she’d looked far from innocent—in fact, he suspected that Ms. Hill could handle herself in just about any situation.
Dallas felt himself drawn to her, like a fly buzzing around a spider’s web. He didn’t know a thing about her, and he was smart enough to realize that she was only interested in him because he was her link to the baby. Yet his stupid male pride fantasized that she might be interested in him—as a man.
“Fool,” he muttered to himself, kicking at a fragment of loose gravel on the asphalt. The sharp-sided rock skidded across the lot, hitting the tire of a low-slung Porche, Dr. Prescott’s latest toy.
He must be getting soft, Dallas decided. Why else would he let a woman get under his skin? Especially a woman who wasn’t being entirely honest with him.
He slid behind the wheel of his truck and flipped on the ignition. What was it about Chandra Hill that had him saying one thing while meaning another? He didn’t want to keep her from the child, and yet he had an obligation to protect the baby’s interests. Hospital policy was very strict about visitors who weren’t relatives.
But the baby needed someone to care about him, and Chandra was willing. If her motives were pure. He couldn’t believe that she was lying, not completely, and yet there was a wariness to her, and she sometimes picked her words carefully, especially when the questions became too personal. But that wasn’t a sin. She was entitled to her private life.
Yet he felt Chandra Hill was holding back, keeping information that he needed to herself. It was a feeling that kept nagging at him whenever he was around her; not that she said anything dishonest. No, it was her omissions that bothered him.
He crammed his truck into gear and watched Chandra haul herself into the cab of a huge red Chevrolet Suburban, the truck that last night he’d thought was a van. Her jeans stretched across taut buttocks and athletic thighs. Her skin was tanned, her straight blond hair streaked by the sun. She looked healthy and vibrant and forthright, and yet she was hiding something. He could feel it.
“All in your mind, O’Rourke,” he told himself as he drove out of the parking lot and toward the center of town. He had hours before his meeting with Brian, so he decided that a stop at the sheriff’s office might clear up a few questions