Diamonds are for Sharing. Shirley Jump

He wasn’t always as sensitive as he should be to women’s feelings, but he could tell something was going on here. He just wasn’t quite sure what it was, and Tito beckoned from the door to the bedroom. He hesitated only a moment before he decided she was okay, and he turned and went into the side room to question the babysitter.

      Cari held the baby gently and cooed, rocking the tiny body, until all whimpering quieted. The little eyes closed, long, dark lashes fluttering against rounded cheeks, and then he was still. She kissed his head and hummed softly. It seemed so natural. Her own baby had trained her well, though she didn’t want to think about that. Blocking out the past was a part of accepting the present for her right now. She’d done a lot of time in her own personal agony and she couldn’t live that way forever. But she’d spent much too long trying to avoid all contact with babies, hoping to avoid the pain memories brought with them. Now that she’d been thrust into this situation and forced to deal with it, she found she was in a special sort of heaven and she didn’t even look up when the men came back into the room. She was floating on feelings and ignoring everything else.

      When she heard the woman’s voice she looked up in surprise, but hardly paid attention as the older lady left the room, Tito leaving close behind her. Vaguely, she was aware that this had been the babysitter and that Tito was driving the woman home, but it seemed to have nothing much to do with her enjoyment of this wonderful baby.

      Max watched her for a moment, surprised to see how quickly she’d adapted to a style of nurturing he didn’t remotely understand.

      “So, what do you think of him?” he asked.

      “He’s a duck,” she murmured, smiling wistfully as she hugged him close and rocked him. “A sweet little baby duck. I don’t ever want to put him down.”

      He nodded. “He looks pretty good to me, too. As long as he’s not crying.”

      She flashed a startled look at the tall man beside her. She’d had dealings with a man who was irrationally bothered by a baby crying. It wasn’t a good thing. But she calmed down immediately. After all, what he’d said was probably a common complaint.

      “Who is he?” she asked, stroking the hair on his little head. “What’s the connection?”

      He hesitated, then decided he might as well tell the truth. “He’s my brother’s child,” he said. “At least, that’s the assumption. We’ll find out after DNA testing is done.”

      She drew back. Something didn’t sit well with her. All the sense of well-being brought on by holding this baby seemed to melt away quickly.

      “He’s your brother’s baby and you’ve never seen him before?” She frowned, searching his face for clues.

      He shrugged. “I’ve been in Italy,” he said, as though that explained everything.

      She made a face. “Where’s your brother? Or the baby’s mother, for that matter?”

      “Good question.” He decided to ignore the part about his brother. “We don’t know. She seems to have disappeared. The babysitter said she should have been back days ago.”

      She nodded, taking that in. “So I guess you’re going to call the police?”

      Without missing a beat, he said firmly, “No. Not yet.”

      “But …”

      He moved impatiently. “Listen C.J., this is really none of your affair. I’ve been involved in the search for this baby for weeks now. We’ve finally found him and we’ll do what we think necessary.”

      She shook her head, exasperated. “Why do you keep calling me that?” she asked. “My name is Cari. It’s a fine name and it doesn’t need shortening to C.J.”

      He raised a dark eyebrow. “A little formal, isn’t it? You actually want me to call you Miss Kerry all the time?”

      “No.” He was such an annoying man. “Drop the ‘miss’. I’m not a Southern belle.”

      He looked puzzled. “Let me get this straight. You want to be called by your last name?”

      “Cari isn’t my last name,” she interjected quickly. “I don’t know where you got that idea. It’s my given name. Just plain Cari. And there’s no J involved at all.”

      He shook his head, bewildered by that. “Your name is Celinia Jade Kerry, right?”

      “No.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste at the silly name he was trying to pin on her. “My name is Cari Christensen. That’s been my name for quite some time now. In fact, it’s official, and I’ve got proof. Want to see my driver’s license?”

      He stared into her clear blue eyes for a long moment. She certainly looked like a woman telling the absolute truth. The light began to dawn. Something had been a little off about this entire operation from the start. She hadn’t fit the profile he was expecting. He should have trusted his instincts. And now—what the hell had he done? This was the wrong woman.

      “Uh-oh,” he said at last.

      CHAPTER THREE

      CARI sighed, impatience building ever higher as she hugged the baby to her chest. This date had been strange from the start, but it was getting stranger.

      First this man had turned out to be so incredibly different from what she’d expected. Then there was the Italian element—not to mention the accent. The mother on the phone. Abandoned babies in dirty apartments. An assistant named Tito. If she hadn’t known better, she might think she’d landed in the middle of a scene from a bad B movie and was caught up in some really crazy dialogue. Mara had not forewarned her of all of this.

      “Listen, Randy,” she began, eyes flashing as she prepared to read him the riot act.

      His own eyes widened and his head went back. “Who the hell is Randy?” he demanded.

      Shock jolted through her. This man wasn’t Randy? This man wasn’t the one she’d been waiting for, the one her friend had set her up with? This wasn’t her blind date?

      But of course he wasn’t. Hadn’t she suspected that all along? The scales fell from her eyes—so to speak. This wasn’t Mara’s husband’s cousin after all. And that just about explained everything.

      “Aren’t you Randy Jeffington?” she asked, though by now she knew darn well he wasn’t.

      He shook his head, looking like a man who expected all things in his path to snap into place and had been sorely disappointed once again—a man who was planning to make sure someone paid for this.

      “Never heard of him,” he growled at her.

      “Uh-oh,” she echoed softly, swaying and feeling just a bit unsteady on her feet.

      Suddenly she had a clear and shining picture of a tall, sandy-haired man in glasses carrying a red rose. She’d seen him just as they were leaving the club and she now had an epiphany. That, no doubt, was Randy. Poor guy.

      But something in the back of her mind had known all along, hadn’t it? This handsome figure standing before her was just too good to be true. Or too bad, as the case might be.

      And poor Randy Jeffington. Was he still wandering around the Longhorn Lounge looking for her? Her hand went to her mouth, her eyes huge.

      “Omigosh. We’ve got to go back.”

      He nodded grimly. “You’ve got that right. We’ve got the wrong dates.”

      “There must be a woman named … whatever that weird name you said was … waiting for you back there.”

      “Holding a red rose.”

      “Oh, no.” She grimaced tragically. “Too bad we all picked the same color, isn’t it?”

      He was still glowering at her. “Too bad we didn’t get identities straight from