Oh? At the thought of him being around to witness her struggles and her ineptitude, her skin prickled. But, seeing as how she’d requested his support and he’d supplied it, she could hardly protest. ‘I read you were a workaholic.’
‘That was before I became a father,’ he said, glancing at Josh, who was banging a spoon on the tray of his high chair, his expression softening a fraction. ‘I intend to get to know my son. Everything he is and everything he does. Nothing is more important.’
He meant it too, Georgie thought, her resentment morphing into wistfulness as she watched Finn watching his son with an intensity and interest she’d
never had from either of her parents. It was silly and slightly shameful to be jealous of a six-month-old, but there it was.
‘You’ll need to show me what to do,’ he added, sliding his gaze back to her, the lingering warmth in his eyes easing some of the numbness that filled so much of her.
‘You’re asking me for advice?’ she said with a quick glance at the extensive baby kit he’d somehow masterfully amassed.
‘You have a head start on me.’
‘Not much of one.’
‘Yes, well, I know nothing. Before last night I’d never been this close to a baby, let alone had to take care of one.’
Slightly taken aback by his frank admission, because in her experience rare was the man who confessed he needed help, although she supposed that, unlike many men of her acquaintance, Finn had nothing to prove, she asked, ‘So where did all this come from?’
‘My COO’s off on maternity leave. I called her and she sent me a list of essentials. And that’s it.’
It was strangely reassuring to know that she wasn’t the only one at sea. ‘Well, I’ll try.’
‘OK, then,’ he said, flashing her a sudden smile that lit up his whole face and momentarily dazzled her. ‘Let’s do this.’
* * *
An hour later, Finn found himself in Josh’s room, grappling with the concept of a wriggly, giggly child, a nappy that needed changing and not enough hands.
How could such a simple thing be so difficult? Georgie had told him what to do before heading off for a bath and it hadn’t seemed that complicated, yet he’d been at it for ten minutes now with no success. His company tax returns were easier to get a handle on than this.
Nevertheless, there was absolutely nothing he’d rather be doing. One of the many reasons it was taking so long and proving so tricky was because he kept being distracted by his son. He’d only just managed to lay him flat when he’d found himself transfixed by the curve of his right eyebrow for a good thirty seconds, by which point Josh had kicked several crucial pieces of equipment to the floor and they’d had to start all over again.
At least Georgie had left him to it and wasn’t around to witness his rare incompetence and his even rarer sentimental fascination with another human being. With any luck she had no idea either of how her brief but disturbing foray into his bedroom last night had affected him. In she’d barged, all stunningly fired up one moment and then staring at him as if she wanted to gobble him up the next. He’d caught a flash of hunger in her eyes and heard the breathlessness of her voice, and a reciprocal burst of hot, dizzying desire had shot through him. After she’d left he’d had to take another shower, a cold one, and he had the feeling that he’d be taking many more if his response to how she’d looked walking into the kitchen this morning, all warm and flushed and tousled, was anything to go by.
Finally achieving the impossible and sticking the nappy tabs in the right places and then somehow managing to guide two wriggling legs back into a pair of tiny trousers, Finn lifted Josh off the table. As he did so their eyes met and held, and as they stared at each other, stock still and fascinated, he felt something deep inside him twist. The physical similarities he and his son shared were startling. He hadn’t resembled either Alice or Jim at all. And suddenly he wondered, did he look like either or both of his biological parents? Did he have his father’s nose? His mother’s eyes? A grandparent’s mouth? Would he recognise them if he ever had the chance to meet them? Would they have the same connection he felt with Josh?
Would he ever find the answers he sought?
‘How did you get on?’ said Georgie, coming into what was now the nursery and snapping him out of his impossibly frustrating thoughts.
‘It’s harder than it looks.’
‘You’ll get the hang of it. If I can, anyone can.’
Hmm. ‘Did you want something?’
‘The rest of my things have just arrived. I was wondering if you’d like to see the photos of Josh that I took while we were in hospital.’
‘I would.’
She took a couple of steps towards him until she was closer—too close—and shifted her glance from him to Josh. ‘He looks so like you,’ she said, her voice filled with warmth and softness.
He took a step back, his pulse skipping a beat. ‘Yes.’
‘Maybe we could compare pictures. Of both of you as newborns.’
Impossible. There weren’t any of him at that age. When going through his father’s attic he’d found a few photos of himself at six months old, and endless photos of himself older than Josh was now, but none younger, which he’d wondered about until he’d found the certificate of his adoption and it all made sense. ‘Another time.’