Wasn’t the little boy hers, then?

Nate stared at the child, stunned, and then he looked at Gemma. There were similarities, he thought. Woman and boy were both dark-haired and pale-skinned. They looked like mother and son. But…maybe there were stronger similarities between the child and what he remembered of Fiona.

And the girl herself reminded him of Fiona. Though there were marked differences. Fiona had been almost ethereal in her beauty. She’d dressed with flamboyance and skill-and considerable expense-and he’d never seen her without make-up.

This girl looked as if she didn’t know what make-up was. And her clothes…! Her clothes wouldn’t be welcome at a welfare shop, he thought. They were dreadful.

But he could still see the resemblance-both to Fiona and to the little boy by her side.

And he remembered what the little boy had said. ‘Gemma, I’m thirsty.’ Not ‘Mummy, I’m thirsty.’

‘This is Fiona’s child?’

‘Good guess.’

‘You don’t want me to take him, too?’ It was a harsh snap and she blinked. And then she smiled. Her arm came out and she hugged the little boy to her.

‘No fear. Fiona was Cady’s birth mother but I’ve been mother to him for over two years now. Cady and I are a team.’

They were, too. Woman and child against the world. He stared at them both and they stared back-and again he felt his gut twist in a recognition of…

Of what? Of something. And he didn’t know what the hell it was.

He took a grip on himself. Sort of. ‘You’re not prepared to take on a second?’

‘No.’

‘You’d better explain.’

Her chin jutted. ‘I don’t see why I need to.’

Heck, she couldn’t just leave. She couldn’t. What was she proposing-that she just set down the baby and walk away? The prospect made him feel dizzy. His world was tipping on its axis and he cautiously placed his hands flat down on the desk as if righting himself.

‘I… Please.’ Once more he forced his voice to steady. ‘No, of course you don’t need to. But…but I need to know. Everything.’