Just Friends?

‘If you want to get started on the forms I’ll just go and get the details you’ll need.’ He paused at the door. ‘I was just about to get a drink…’

‘Not for me, thanks,’ Izzy said, and then changed her mind. ‘Actually, water would be great.’

‘Would you mind…?’ It was his turn to say it and he gestured to the baby. Izzy went to put out her hands and then laughed.

‘Joking!’ she said, then went over to his sink and thoroughly washed hers. ‘Am I clean enough for you?’

Oh, God, there was an answer there!

And they just both stood there, looking a bit stunned.

Izzy flaming red, Diego biting down on his tongue rather than tell her he’d prefer her dirty.

And thank God for Miss Genevieve or he might just have kissed her face off!

Diego got them both water.

Well, he couldn’t do much with two polystyrene cups and tap water but he did go to the ice dispenser and then had a little chat with himself in his head as he walked back to his office.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He hardly knew her, she was pregnant, and she obviously had major issues.

Why was he acting like a twelve-year-old walking past the underwear department in a department store? Nervous, jumpy, embarrassed, hell, he couldn’t actually fancy her, and even if he did, normally that didn’t pose a problem—he fancied loads of women.

This, though, felt different.

Maybe he felt sorry for her? Diego wondered as he balanced a file under his arm and two cups in one big hand and opened his office door.

But, no, he’d been thinking about her long before Rita had told him what had happened.

Then she looked up from the form she was filling in and smiled, and Diego was tempted to turn round and walk out.

He more than fancied her.

Not liked, not felt sorry for, no. As he washed his hands and took Genevieve from her and sat down behind his desk it wasn’t sympathy that was causing this rather awkward reaction.

Diego was used to women.

Beautiful women.

Ordinary women.

Postnatal women.

Pregnant women were regular visitors to his unit—often he walked a mum-to-be around his unit, telling her what to expect once her baby was born.

He was more than used to women, yet not one, not one single one, had ever had this effect on him.

‘How is Toby doing?’ Izzy looked up from the forms and Diego made a wobbly gesture with one hand.

‘Can I have a peek?’ Izzy signed off her name and then reached for her water. ‘I’m done.’

‘Sure,’ Diego said. ‘I’ll put this one down and take you over—we’ve moved him.’

Genevieve was sleeping now, and Izzy walked with him to the nursery. It was a far more relaxed atmosphere there.

There were about eight babies, all in clear cribs and dressed in their own clothes, the parents more relaxed and, Izzy noticed, everyone had a smile when Diego walked in and put Genevieve back in her cot.

He was certainly popular, Izzy thought as they head back out to the busy main floor of NICU.