Sherryl Woods - Dylan and the Baby Doctor

Dylan tried to reconcile the image she was painting with the woman seated across from him. He couldn’t. Even in her shorts and T-shirt, her feet in sandals, she radiated both inner beauty and confidence. Her hair framed her face with the sort of tousled curls a man’s fingers just itched to untangle. She had a scattering of freckles across her nose, but otherwise her complexion was near perfect. And those eyes—a man could sink in their glittering sea-green depths and go down for the third time happy. A sudden rush of heat told him he needed to avoid spending too much time gazing into those eyes.

“If you two were such a mismatch, how did you wind up together?”

“I don’t know,” she said with apparent bemusement. “Somehow we just clicked. Not overnight. It took a few weeks, but suddenly everything changed. Then things moved very quickly. We got married, moved into an old Coral Gables house that had great history and lousy plumbing and then Bobby came along. I was doing my residency in pediatrics by then.”

“Sounds stressful. Was your husband a big help around the house?”

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Paul? You have to be kidding. The only thing he did was hire a nanny, then race off to the office. I don’t know what you know about being a resident in a trauma center, but the hours are hell. Paul’s were worse. Into the office before the market opened to get a jump on things, out with clients after Wall Street closed to celebrate the victories or solidify the relationship.”

Dylan thought back to Kit’s complaints about his work habits. More than once, she had accused him of being an absent husband and father. It sounded as if in the James marriage the two of them had shared the blame.

As if she sensed his disapproval, Kelsey said, “We did the best we could.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you did,” he said perfectly aware of the note of sarcasm that had crept into his voice.

Bright patches of color flamed in her cheeks. “You don’t approve of me, do you, Mr. Delacourt?”

Dylan was surprised that she had called him on it. So the lady had a temper, after all. And good instincts. Maybe that could work to his advantage. He’d rather have her fighting mad than docile and defeated. He deliberately shrugged. “It’s not my job to judge you,” he said, careful to imply that he did just the same. “All I care about is finding Bobby.”

After an instant’s hesitation, she nodded. “Good. Then we can agree on that, at least.”

He bit back his amusement at the tart tone. “You don’t approve of me, either, do you, doctor?”

“Honestly?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t care what sort of foul-tempered beast you are. All I care about are results. You find my son and you will earn my undying devotion.”

Dylan studied her thoughtfully. “Now there’s a thought to make a man’s heart go pitter-patter.”

“Anything to motivate you,” she retorted just as dryly.

For the first time in what had been a very grim couple of hours, Dylan actually found something to laugh about.

“You and I are going to make a helluva team, doc.”

Startled, she stared. “A team?”

He nodded. “From now on, you and I are going to stick together like glue.”

It was the only way he could think of to be sure she didn’t do something crazy to get her son back.

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