To Have the Doctor's Baby (12 page)

 

It was raining when they left the ballroom. Rain was scarce in Las Vegas and Ryleigh loved the sight and sound of it. She missed that from her time on the East Coast.

But not as much as she'd missed having Nick hold her,
feeling his strong arms around her, hearing his heart beat beneath her cheek.

Dancing was an acceptable, rule-following way to do that when they'd missed by a day the chance to be in each other's arms, to make a baby. Unfortunately a missed opportunity didn't stop her from wanting him. And here in the car driving back to the house in the rain, she felt as if his arms were still around her. With his spicy masculine scent and the smell of his skin sneaking inside her, surrounding her, she felt as if he were still touching her everywhere.

Suddenly it was a challenge to draw air into her lungs.

“You okay?” Nick's voice had a husky edge to it.

“Yeah.” She blew out a sigh. “Fine. Why?”

“I can just feel something's bothering you.”

“Not really. Tired, I guess,” she added.

“We're almost home.”

She really was tired. Tired of being the rules police even though she was responsible for putting them in place. She had two choices. She could live under his roof for another month, at which time they would try to make a baby. Or she could move back to her apartment and hope he was willing and available when she was ovulating. Then another thought occurred to her.

She could find someone else to be the father.

When everything in her rebelled at that thought, she scratched it off the list. Somehow she'd find a way to have Nick's baby and work within their previously established guidelines.

Finally he pulled up to the security gates in his housing development and waited for them to open. Then he slowly made all the turns until he'd pulled to a stop in the driveway. The rain had stopped. Lucky her.

She lifted the skirt of her long dress so the wet ground
didn't destroy it as they walked inside. Flipping on light switches in the long entry, they made their way to the kitchen where he put his keys on the built-in desk.

“Do you want a nightcap?” Nick asked. “I've got some brandy. Or wine.”

“No thanks.” She took a bottle of water from the refrigerator and tried to twist off the cap. It wouldn't budge. “Damn it. A person could dehydrate trying to get one of these open. It's like dying of thirst in the desert with water ten feet away.”

The same could be said of her soul, what with Nick so close and yet so far.

She slapped the bottle on the counter. “I didn't want it anyway.”

And then Nick was there, the heat of his body reaching out to her. “I'll do it.”

“Don't bother. I'm going to bed.”

She started by him and he grabbed her arm, stopping her. The unyielding touch made her look up at him.

“Ryleigh—” His rough voice scraped over her skin.

“I really have to go upstairs. Now.”

“Me, too. But—”

Yeah, there was always a but. The buts could get her into a lot of trouble. He pulled the end of his tie and undid the bow, then let the ends dangle. Touching his fingers to the top button on his formal shirt, he twisted, undoing it. After running his fingers through his hair, he slapped his palm on the counter. Frustration vibrated around them as he trapped her in front of him.

“I better go, Nick. Let me go to bed before I—”

“What?” A muscle jerked in his cheek as he stared at her.

“Before I can't go at all.” She tried to move past him on the other side, but he shifted his body to stop her.

“I'm taking you to bed.” His voice was low, husky, the tone firm. His gaze skipped over hers, searching for signs of resistance. He wouldn't find any because she couldn't manage to rally them. Not this time. Not anymore.

Her heart was racing as she stood on tiptoe and gently touched her lips to his. The soft kiss instantly exploded into flames. It was as if the whole night was foreplay, leading up to this moment. He slid his arm around her waist and possessively pressed her against him as he thoroughly ravaged her mouth.

When he pulled back, they were both breathing hard. “We can't—”

She shook her head. “Don't do this to me, Nick. Don't promise like that then back away now—”

“Just saying—not in the kitchen,” he managed, struggling for air.

“Oh.” She smiled and took his hand.

They held on to each other and managed to make it up the stairs. She started to draw him into his room.

“No,” he said. “Yours.”

She was in no mood to argue as he bypassed the master bedroom and pulled her into the guest quarters where she slept. Neither of them had sleeping on their mind.

“Here.” Where no sex had gone before.

His whisper brushed her lips just before he really took possession. And she gave him full and free access, opening to him. With his tongue, he coaxed her into the heat until she was desperate to go up in flames.

Ryleigh backed up a step and frantically reached for the zipper at the back of her dress. Nick turned her and pushed her hands away, doing the task himself.

“You have no idea how much I missed doing that for you.”

Before she could fully grasp the husbandly sentiment,
he pressed his mouth to her neck, shoulder and down her back as the silky material slid to the floor. She was wearing nothing but panties and silver hot-diggity-damn high heels. She stepped out of the dress and turned.

“I like your outfit.” His eyes gleamed with approval and something so sizzling it made her burn all over.

“You have too many clothes on,” she said.

“Easy to fix—”

Ryleigh helped him pull them off because she couldn't wait. That's when she realized that from the second she'd seen him in the tux, she'd wanted him out of it and in her bed. In what was probably a world record for speed, they finally fell to the mattress, wrapped in each other's arms.

He kissed her jaw, her breasts and down her belly. She did the same to him and had the satisfaction of hearing a hiss as he drew in a breath. His sweet revenge followed as his fingers touched her everywhere his mouth had been, then moved lower, between her thighs. The feeling was so electric, when he circled the exquisitely feminine bundle of nerve endings, she arched her back and nearly jumped off the bed.

“Easy, love,” he crooned.

“Oh, Nick, I need you—”

“I know. God, I know—”

“Now. Please,” she begged.

Without another word, he settled himself over her and pushed inside. He filled her perfectly and she accepted him gratefully, closing around him. Then he moved, driving into her while she took her fill. He urged her higher and higher until pleasure exploded through her like the flash and explosion of fireworks. And he was only a heartbeat behind.

He groaned, a long satisfied sound as he went still and
threw back his head. The muscles in his arms bulged and the cords in his neck stood out as release swept through him.

It was a long time later when the magnitude of everything Ryleigh had done sank in. Nick was asleep and had her wrapped in his arms. The feeling of contentment hadn't lasted long when she realized her choices had changed in the blink of an eye, as quick as the sound of a sigh.

She could either stop having sex with Nick.

Or she could stop pretending it was
only
sex.

But she had to pick one.

R
yleigh was still rocking the glow of the Saturday-night fundraiser at work on Monday morning. The tallies were in and it had earned more than any of the previous Children's Medical Charities fundraisers. She had even more money than expected to spend on the kids.

On a personal note, she and Nick had spent the weekend in bed. Practically. She knew it wasn't about sex anymore but wasn't prepared to define exactly what
it
was. There were feelings on her part for sure. For Nick? She was only pretty sure.

Someone had emailed her a picture of her and Nick from Saturday night that was now her monitor's screensaver. It wasn't a bad shot; probably the white dress made her look good. And the way she was staring up at Nick, it was a wonder her computer didn't spontaneously combust.

He was so handsome in his tuxedo and was staring back at her with so much intensity in his expression, as if
she might disappear at any moment and he was trying to hang on with everything he had. Just why she went there wasn't clear, but that was the first thing that popped into her head.

There was a knock on her partially open office door before it was pushed wide. “Ms. Evans?”

“Yes.” She glanced at her desk calendar for her appointment's name. “Nora Cook?”

“Yes.” The trim, attractive woman was in her late fifties and had straight dark brown hair cut in layers that touched her shoulders. Her eyes were light brown behind stylish, square glasses with black frames. She moved into the room and held out her hand. “It's nice to meet you.”

“And you. Please have a seat.”

The other woman took the chair on the left and settled her purse and briefcase on the floor beside her. “Thank you for taking the time to see me.”

“You're the volunteer director for the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation of Las Vegas.”

“Yes.”

That's why Ryleigh had agreed to the meeting. Nick's stepbrother had died of the disease and when the call came in, she couldn't turn down the request for a face-to-face.

“How can I help you?” she asked.

“The simple answer? Money.” Nora shrugged. “There are a lot of CF people in the valley who can't afford medical insurance for their families or lost it along with their employment. We have a one-hundred-thousand-dollar shortfall in our budget. Without those funds children won't have medications, respiratory therapy equipment or educational support and personnel to help them and their families manage the disease. And that's a very important part of keeping kids alive. Where there's life, there's hope. In the last twenty years, research has come up with drugs
and therapies to prolong patients' lives and help these kids grow up. But it takes money.”

Ryleigh was moved, not just by what she said, but the way she said it. And there was a profound sadness etched on the woman's face that tugged at the heart.

“Okay,” she said simply.

Nora blinked. “What?”

“Children's Medical Charities will help you fill your budget gap.”

“Wow. That wasn't even my most persuasive stuff. I came armed with statistics. Now I don't know what to say.”

“How about thank you?” Ryleigh suggested.

“Absolutely. You have no idea how much we appreciate this.”

“If you don't mind my asking,” Ryleigh said, “how did you get involved with the foundation?”

Nora's mouth tightened just a fraction before she answered. “My son had cystic fibrosis.”

“Had?” Ryleigh shook her head. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up painful memories.”

“You don't have to bring them up because they never go away. Not really. I got involved with the organization because after my son died, the grief was crushing. I needed to do something to crush it right back, and it had to be proactive. That was a lot of years ago, not long after Todd passed away.”

Ryleigh's stomach dropped. Nick's stepbrother had CF and his name was Todd. That couldn't possibly be a coincidence. “Do you by any chance know Nick Damian?”

The woman smiled sadly. “I used to be married to his father. Do you know Nick from the hospital?”

“Yes,” Ryleigh agreed. “And I used to be married to him.”

Nora looked a little startled. “So, you and I are members of a small club that includes women formerly married to Damian men, who then went back to their maiden names.”

“I guess we are.”

“The medical field and volunteer activism can be very separate worlds. I haven't seen Nick since his father and I split up.” She pointed to the screensaver. “That's him in the picture, isn't it? Recently?”

“Saturday night.”

“So, you two stayed friends,” Nora said.

More than that,
Ryleigh thought. “Yeah. We did.”

“I'm sure he's a good man. He was such a good kid and really took Todd's death hard.”

“He told me.” Not with words, she thought, but the haunted look on his face when he'd revealed the little he had.

“I tried to tell him it wasn't his fault, but he never quite bought into that.”

“Nick blamed himself?” That was something Ryleigh had never considered.

“Yes. Todd had been in the hospital with a lung infection. He finally came home and seemed to be doing okay. My husband, Alex, Nick's dad, had a company dinner and didn't want to go alone. Nick volunteered to stay with Todd so we could go out.”

“What happened?” Something had or there would be no blame to be assigned.

“Apparently there was a girl Nick liked and he'd been trying to get her attention. It finally happened and she wanted him to come over and help with her math homework. He didn't want to leave, but Todd talked him into it. My son bragged about being wingman to the smartest, most popular guy on campus. He was incredibly proud of
that and grateful to Nick for making sure he was included in social activities. But that night—”

“What?” Ryleigh encouraged.

“I'm sure Todd said he was fine and probably thought he was. He had been so many times before.” Her eyes were bleak, even after all this time. “Nick went to study with the girl. When he got home, Todd was in respiratory distress and couldn't dial 911. Nick did and the paramedics transported him to the hospital. But his heart stopped on the way and they couldn't revive him.”

Ryleigh remembered the little bit Nick had said about the incident, the dark brooding look in his eyes that told her something was very wrong. Now she knew why. He blamed himself for Todd's death. She was afraid part of Nick had died along with him. It certainly explained his heightened sense of responsibility and why he always went when a patient called, no matter what.

“I'm so sorry for your loss.” She sighed. “The words seem so inadequate.”

“They're not. Believe me. It helps to know people care, even after all this time.”

“I'm sorry about you and Nick's father, too. So often a marriage is collateral damage because of the trauma of losing a child.”

“I see that a lot through my work with the foundation,” Nora agreed. “But that's not what happened with me and Nick's dad.”

“No?”

Nora shook her head. “He never loved me.”

“I'm sure that's not true—”

“It is,” she said. “We knew each other as couples when our marriages fell apart. My husband left because of the pressure of a terminally ill child. Alex's wife walked out
because she didn't want to be a wife or mother anymore. I'm sure Nick has told you how his dad fell apart.”

No. He'd never said a word. But things she'd wondered about were starting to fall into place and she wanted to know more. She was afraid if she confessed that the man she'd married had kept this to himself, Nora would stop talking. She shrugged, which didn't exactly make it a lie.

Nora nodded. “Alex drank for a while and took a leave from his job. He couldn't do anything, including being a father to the son who was just as hurt and confused by the situation.”

Ryleigh's heart just ached for Nick and what he must have gone through. “But Alex must have pulled himself together. You married him.”

“I thought he had. It was three years later. We talked to each other because no one else understood. Then he proposed. He wanted to be part of a couple and I had Todd to think about.”

“Probably not the right reasons to get married.”

“Not even close.” She smiled grimly. “He actually told me that he never loved me, although it didn't come as a surprise. It didn't take long for me to know it was a mistake. Alex died when Nick was in medical school. I'm convinced it was a broken heart.”

“That's so sad.”

“Yeah.” Nora pushed her glasses up more securely on her nose. “I always wondered how Nick turned out. With his mother leaving and his father's emotional breakdown, it was such a disturbing experience and he was really just a boy, more sensitive than he let on to anyone. To have lived through that had to affect him.” She sighed. “The reality is that my second husband and I divorced because he simply was incapable of loving anyone, especially me.”

That seemed to be a universal characteristic of the Damian men, Ryleigh thought—although it appeared that his father at least had been capable of great love at one time. It apparently bordered on obsession, but he'd loved his first wife, a fixation that had cost him everything. And Nick had never said a word to her.

Maybe she should have sensed that there was something in his past. Maybe she should have tried harder to get him to talk about it. Instead, she'd walked away. There had to be a reason she was connecting to him again. This time she was older and wiser and knew a relationship needed a foundation. Strong foundations were built on an exchange of information.

This time she was going to try to help him find peace with his past, their past. If she could do that, maybe, just maybe, he could be the man she could count on. Clearly it was something Nick didn't want to talk about, but this time she wasn't taking no for an answer.

 

Nick walked in the house that evening, still concerned about David Negri. The kid was having a rough time with the asthma and playing football. If he was going to handle practice and games, they had to find a way to get the symptoms under control. But the long-term goal had to be preventing lung damage.

David had been his last appointment of the day. Again, the whole family had come into the office. The two brothers and their bantering reminded Nick of his relationship with Todd. Especially when Jonathan backed off because his brother was wheezing. The give and take instantly went from adversarial to supportive. Just like Nick and Todd. The familiar knot of regret and remorse tightened.

He walked into the kitchen where Ryleigh was sprin
kling mozzarella cheese on slices of buttered Italian bread. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She glanced up, then did a double take. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing. Why?”

She never took her gaze from his. “That's not a ‘nothing's wrong' face you've got going on there.”

“I expect to get a call from a patient.” Nick watched her as carefully as she was him. He waited for the hurt and disappointment to take over in her eyes and was kind of surprised when it didn't.

“I made lasagna,” she said.

“Isn't that a lot of work after a long day at the office?”

“I actually threw everything together a couple of weeks ago and stuck it in the freezer for a work night.” Her smile was full of sympathy and understanding. “It's warmed through, so let's eat before you get that call and have to go back out on an empty stomach.”

Ryleigh filled two plates with squares of lasagna and set them on the waiting placemats. Two individual bowls of salad waited. He took one of the bar stools and picked up a fork. She filled two glasses with ice and water from the refrigerator dispenser, then put them down before sitting beside him.

He took a bite. “This is really good.”

“I'm glad you like it.”

They ate in silence for several moments, but it didn't seem quiet. He could almost feel thoughts racing through her head. There was a tension in her, an expectation, as if she was uneasy about something.

Finally she said, “Tell me about the patient who might call.”

The truth was he wanted to talk about it and was glad
she was there. “Teenager with asthma. He wants to play football, but his mom is worried.”

“Oh.” She chewed a bite of flat noodles, sauce and cheese. “The boy from the asthma clinic.”

He should have known she'd remember; there wasn't much she missed. “Anyway, his asthma is kicking up. He had a virus, which may have triggered the first attack, but now the weather is colder and running into the wind can cause hypersensitive airways to constrict. Or there could still be pollen in the air affecting his breathing. And I can't seem to find the right combination of drugs and therapy to break the cycle.”

“You'll figure it out.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you're a legend at Mercy Medical Center,” she said simply.

“That sets a high bar.”

“You don't need a reputation. It's automatic with you.”

“I can't let the disease win.”

She rested her elbow on the counter and rested her cheek in her palm as she studied him. “There's more.”

“How do you know that? And don't blame it on my face.”

“I can just tell.” She reached a hand out and brushed her fingers over his jaw. “You're quiet. Thoughtful. Distracted.”

“Okay. Yes. Yes. And yes.” He set his fork down and wiped his mouth on the paper napkin. “She's a single mom raising two boys. The younger brother idolizes the older one even though he calls him gopher breath.”

“He sounds like a fun, funny kid.” She laughed. “Is that all?”

“No. There was more back-and-forth, equally as
priceless, but that's the one most fit for a lady's delicate sensibilities.”