His Secret Baby. Marie Ferrarella

about that, he upbraided himself. He would be out of her life before that happened, not settling in for good.

      If a part of him yearned for love and family, well, he would have to bank it down. He knew what he was signing on for when he volunteered for this kind of work. There wasn’t going to be a happy ending for him after two hours, when the credits rolled. This was real life and it was gritty.

      When he reached Eve’s room, he heard voices coming from inside. Specifically, a male voice. Was that her doctor?

      The moment he opened the door, Adam knew the small, trim, older man, dressed in tan slacks and a dark blue sports jacket, was not a doctor. Doctors were given to scrubs and lab coats, not expensive suits he was fairly certain came from a high-end shop. Despite the unseasonably warm weather, the man wore a tie. The tidy Van Dyke gray beard he sported made him look old enough to be her grandfather. But Adam knew she didn’t have one.

      Who was this man?

      Adam cleared his throat, crossed the threshold and gave the door a little push with his elbow, closing it behind him. When Eve looked his way, he said, “Hi.”

      Everything inside of her lit up before she could tell it not to. Why didn’t she know better?

      “Hi,” she answered. Her eyes strayed toward the bouquet. There were at least a dozen and a half roses swaddled in green and white tissue paper with sprigs of baby’s breath tucked in between the blossoms. “Are those for me?” Eve prodded when Adam made no effort to give her the bouquet.

      “Well, they’re not for me,” the man on the other side of her bed observed. “For one thing, this young man had no way of knowing that I would be here.”

      “They’re for you,” Adam murmured, feeling damn awkward as he almost thrust the bouquet at her. This was a bad idea, he thought. He should have realized that she’d have company. She was far too outgoing a woman not to.

      “They’re lovely,” she said, inhaling deeply. They were the fragrant kind, her favorite type of roses.

      Adam could feel steely gray eyes regarding him for a long moment, obviously assessing him.

      “And you are?” Eve’s dapper companion finally asked as he passed the man while crossing to the sink. Opening the cabinet below, Adam took out a pink pitcher and filled it with water, then brought it over to Eve. Only once he deposited the bouquet, stripped of its tissue paper, into the pitcher and placed it on her table did he answer the man’s question. “Adam. Adam Smythe.”

      The look on the older man’s gaunt face seemed to say that he knew better. “Of course you are,” he said with the air of man humoring someone of far less mental acuity. “Well, Adam Smith—”

      “Smythe,” Adam corrected, giving it the standard British pronunciation.

      “Sorry, Smythe,” the older man amended, “I’m Josiah Turner.”

      Adam’s eyes widened and he looked at Eve. “That’s Josiah Turner?”

      Until that moment, she’d forgotten that she’d referred to Josiah as the man she was currently involved with. Eve pressed her lips together. “I was in labor. I didn’t know what I was saying.”

      Josiah’s voice warmed as he turned toward Eve. “I’ve known Eve since she was a little girl. I’d bring my dogs in to be treated by her father and Eve would be there, soaking up everything her father did like a sponge. I knew she’d be a good veterinarian even then.” The steely eyes narrowed as Josiah shifted his focus back to him. “And how do you know her?”

      Adam had no idea how much or how little Eve wanted him to admit, so he kept the narrative vague. “I met her when she came into my bookstore in Santa Barbara. She was looking to buy a first edition Mark Twain for her father. I had an original copy of A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court. Just yesterday I ran into her again.” Adam looked at Eve. “Small world.”

      Josiah obviously had another take on the events. “You were stalking her?”

      The accusation, politely worded, stunned Adam. “No,” he denied vehemently. Who was this man?

      Josiah didn’t seem particularly convinced or contrite. Instead, his shoulders shifted in what constituted a minor shrug.

      “My mistake.” However, he gave no indication that he was ready to move on to another topic. “So you both just happen to transplant yourselves to the same city—or are you here on a visit, Adam?”

      Adam felt as if he was being subtly grilled. “I relocated my shop.”

      “Interesting,” Josiah commented. “And what is your shop called?”

      “New Again,” Adam told him.

      Josiah nodded. “I must look you up when I get the chance. As it happens, I like first editions myself. Of course,” he slanted a glance toward Eve, and Adam noted that the older man’s look softened considerably as he did so, “I’m old enough to have been around for a great many of these books when they were first editions.”

      “You’re not that old, Josiah,” Eve insisted with a warm smile.

      The man leaned forward and patted her hand. “You have no idea how old I really am, my dear. It’s a state secret—and I intend to keep it that way.” He took her hand in his. “Since you have a visitor, I’ll take my leave now. But I’ll be back tonight. Call me if there’s anything special I can bring you when I return.” He kissed her hand, then released it as he straightened. The smile on his face vanished as he regarded Adam. “Adam,” he acknowledged with a nod of his head, and with that, moving with considerable grace and agility, Josiah Turner made his way to the door.

      Adam watched the door close behind the man. “That’s quite a character. Is he a relative?”

      “In name only.” When Adam looked at her quizzically, she explained, “When I was a little girl, I thought he was my father’s uncle so I called him my great-uncle. He’s a very sweet man. He had a daughter, but she’s married and living out of the country. England, I think. I’m the only ‘family’ he has, if you don’t count Lucas.”

      “Lucas?”

      “His driver. Actually, Lucas is more of an assistant slash companion, although I doubt Josiah would call him that.”

      “How did he know you were in the hospital?” Adam asked, rearranging the roses so that they were more even. He had a thing about symmetry.

      “I forgot he had an appointment this morning,” she said ruefully. “Annual shots for his Doberman, Edgar. When he found Vera there instead of me, he asked her where I was and she told him that Brooklyn arrived early. He brought the baby a present.” She’d assumed that the old man would, but she hadn’t been prepared for what the gift turned out to be. She glanced down at the card Josiah had brought. “I’ve got to find a way to make him take it back.”

      Eve didn’t strike him as the type to refuse a gift. Doing so would most likely offend the man and that didn’t seem like something she would be willing to do.

      “Why? What is it?”

      Instead of telling him, Eve took the card out of its envelope and opened it. She held up what had been tucked inside the card.

      Taking it from her, he turned it around. It was a check. A rather large check. Adam looked at her incredulously. “He gave you a check for twenty thousand dollars?”

      What kind of man just hands over a check for that amount of money?

      She nodded, taking the check and putting it back into its envelope. For now, she put it into the drawer of her side table. It made her uneasy just looking at it. “It’s the tuition to an exclusive nursery school,” she told him. “He told me he had a friend who could get her placed near the top of the waiting list.”

      Adam looked at her sharply.