The Child They Didn't Expect. Yvonne Lindsay

through loud and clear. An icy cold sensation flooded through his veins. Surely this was some kind of nightmare. His beautiful and vibrant baby sister—dead? It couldn’t be true. She’d been the picture of good health, blooming in late pregnancy, when he’d left home three days before. Ronin’s brother-in-law had teased him about potentially missing the birth of his first niece or nephew because he’d been called to troubleshoot for an overseas client, yet again.

      “How, Dad? When?” Shock made his lips stiff and uncooperative as he tried to form the words. “Tell me what happened.”

      “She went into labor. R.J. was driving her to the birthing unit. A drunk driver went through a red light. He hit them broadside, pushed them into a pole. They didn’t stand a chance.”

      His father’s voice cracked with emotion. The enormity of what had happened overwhelmed Ronin, and he felt his eyes burn with tears. As much as his brain screamed at him that this wasn’t happening, logic dictated that this was real, actual, true. And here he was, in Hawaii, far from his family when they needed him most.

      “The baby?” he managed to ask through a throat constricted by the clutch of raw grief.

      “He was born by emergency caesarian. He nearly didn’t make it. CeeCee died during the operation. Her injuries were too great for the doctors to save them both.”

      Amid excoriating pain that threatened to drive him to his knees, Ronin processed the news that he had a nephew and forced himself to grapple with the knowledge that the much-loved, much-anticipated baby was now an orphan. He dragged his thoughts together. “Is Mum all right?”

      “She’s in shock. We both are. I’m worried, Ronin. This isn’t good for her heart. We need you, son.”

      “I’ll be there as soon as I can. I promise.”

      He took some details from his father and then, telling him he’d be in touch as soon as he had flight information, he reluctantly severed the call. Leaning against the cool tile of the wall, he took in several deep breaths. Calm. He needed to be calm and organized and all those things that usually came to him as second nature. It was a tall order when all he wanted to do was weep for the senseless loss his family had just suffered. For the dreams his sister and her husband would never see fulfilled. For the child who would grow up without his parents.

      When he felt he had himself under control, he slipped back into the hotel room and silently gathered his clothing from where he’d scattered it so mindlessly on the floor only a few hours before. He dressed as quickly and quietly as he could and then let himself out of the room with one thing and one thing only on his mind. He had to get home.

      * * *

      The flight back to New Zealand, via Brisbane in Australia, had been undeniably long. He could have waited for a shorter, more direct flight later that day, but he needed to be home now and this was the flight that would get him there first. Ronin had filled the time by making lists of what needed to be done when he arrived home, of people who would need to be contacted, the arrangements made. Through it all his heart ached with a pain that was not as easily compartmentalized as the lists and instructions he’d so assiduously written.

      Finally, after fifteen-plus hours of travel and transit, he was back where he belonged—where he was needed most. He spotted his father’s pale face in the Arrivals Hall the moment he stepped through from Customs. Strong, familiar arms clapped around him in a gesture that reminded him so much of when he was younger. And then he felt the shudder that passed through his father’s body and knew the older man now needed his comfort far, far more than he’d ever needed his father’s.

      “I’m so glad you’re back, son. So glad.” His father’s voice trembled, sounding a hundred years older than he’d been only a few short days before.

      “Me too, Dad. Me too.”

      It was late, after midnight, when they drove from the airport to his parents’ Mission Bay apartment. As they carefully traversed the rain-slicked roads, his father hesitating that extra few seconds as each red light turned to green, Ronin turned his thoughts back to the woman he’d left behind in Hawaii. He’d have to contact the hotel, to leave a message explaining where he’d gone. He’d been so focused on the task of getting home as quickly as possible it hadn’t occurred to him until right now that he’d completely abandoned her.

      When had she said she was traveling home again? He racked his memory but grief and exhaustion proved a barrier to his usually highly proficient brain. He made a mental note to get a message to her as soon as possible. But right now, he thought as they pulled into the underground parking at his parents’ apartment building on Auckland’s waterfront, his family—what was left of it—came first.

      * * *

      A touch of jet lag still weighed on her as Ali pulled up outside her business, Best for Baby. She knew she’d made the right decision to go to Hawaii for a vacation—it had been on her bucket list for years and she’d finally been able to tick it off. But she promised herself she’d be finding an airline carrier that offered direct flights at a more reasonable hour the next time she took the trip—cost be damned.

      Of course it would have been more fun to share the vacation with someone else, but, in lieu of company, Ali had enjoyed the luxury of taking things at her own pace and being at her own beck and call for a change. Establishing her baby-planning business had taken everything out of her these past three years. She was proud of everything she’d accomplished, but it had taken a toll. She’d more than earned her holiday.

      She should have returned reenergized and full of vigor. Instead, she was nursing emotional bruises that, logically, she knew shouldn’t hurt quite as much as they did. It had been one night only. A handful of hours at best. She’d gone into it with no expectations, and yet she felt cheated, as if something potentially special had slipped from her grasp.

      It was ridiculous, she knew. The confused pain she was experiencing was nothing like the pain she’d felt five years before, when her husband had admitted he didn’t love her anymore, or even when he’d admitted to having an affair with the decorator he’d commissioned to redo his offices and to now loving her. But still, it left a sting when a guy sneaked out on a girl after the date night that, for Ali at least, had been the most excellent of all date nights—and especially when she’d broken every single rule in her book by sleeping with him. It had been an unpleasant shock to wake up alone. If he hadn’t planned to see her again, why had he suggested they have breakfast in the morning and then spend her last full day in Hawaii together? Would it have killed him to leave her a message? Anything?

      She gave herself a sharp mental shake. Let it go, Ali, she censured silently. Let it go. She’d suffered far worse and survived. This was a blip on her personal radar—no more, no less—and it was about time she treated it as such. She had to be practical about it. She didn’t want another relationship—ever. Her business now filled the hole in her life that her broken marriage had left behind. Romance wasn’t in the cards for her again. And she was fine with that. She should have known better than to let a little moonlight and a handsome stranger confuse matters. The entire experience now proved to her that she should never break her own rules about getting close to another guy, no matter how strongly she was attracted to him.

      Satisfied she had her head on straight, Ali walked through the front door and called out to her assistant and good friend, Deb, at the front desk. “Good morning! Did you miss me?”

      “Oh my God, yes. I’ve been flat off my feet. I have so much to tell you, but first you must tell me about Hawaii. Is it as beautiful as it looks in pictures?”

      “It certainly is beautiful,” she said with a smile. “Especially the sunsets. Here, let me show you.”

      Ali retrieved her cell phone from her satchel and opened the picture gallery. Together they oohed and ahhed over the shots she’d taken during the past week.

      “Are you sure you didn’t just photograph a postcard or something?” Deb asked dubiously as they lingered over a shot of the beach at sunset.

      Ali