Burning Wild (6 page)

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Authors: Christine Feehan

BOOK: Burning Wild
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Jake shook his head. “We weren’t married, but we were having a child.”

“He’s going to be fine. He’s a little early, but he’s very healthy,” Chelsey hastened to assure him.

“How long will he have to stay here?”

Meaning how much time did he have to set things in motion. He had a vague idea what he wanted to do, but no real plan. It was obvious the staff felt sorry for him. His pregnant girlfriend had run off with another man. Shaina was the paparazzi’s dream. She loved the spotlight, and her exploits kept many gossip magazines in print.

The world believed that she’d left Jake brokenhearted, and it suited them both to let that assumption go unchallenged. Now that Shaina was dead, sympathy would surround Jake, and he could use that to his advantage.

“You’ll have to talk to the doctor, but for a preemie, he’s healthy. Maybe a week, but I honestly couldn’t tell you.” Chelsey let out a soft sigh. “Emma really wanted a family. It was so important to her and to Andy, because they didn’t have anyone at all, so they kept saying they would have a big family.”

Jake raked a hand through his hair. He should have his son transported immediately back to a hospital in Texas and return home. This wasn’t his mess to clean up. But he knew he wouldn’t. He had looked into Emma Reynolds’s blue-green eyes and something had opened up in him, something nameless he didn’t understand. Whatever it was, he couldn’t just walk away.

A man approached, and beside Jake, Chelsey straightened, immediately changing her demeanor to a very professional face. The newcomer must be a hospital administrator. Someone had probably recognized Jake and they were sending the big guns to make certain he was comfortable with his son’s treatment.

“You’re burned, Mr. Bannaconni, on your hands and arms. You need to have that taken care of.”

“I didn’t even notice,” Jake said truthfully, but he allowed the hospital staff to lead him away to an examination room.

He sized up the hospital administrator as his burns were treated. Dignified. Sincere. He was fiercely proud of his hospital—Jake could tell that the moment the doctor began showing him around—yet clearly the hospital had little money to bring in modern equipment.

Jake seized the moment, murmuring about a sizable donation for the care his son had received, asking questions about his child, about how long he’d have to stay, about the repercussions of an early birth and what he could do to better help the hospital care for him. And then he managed to turn the conversation to Emma Reynolds and how terrible he felt for her situation. What were her injuries? Did she need special doctors? He would be more than happy to fly in who or what they needed to help.

Dr. John Grogan, head of the hospital, tried to convince Jake that Emma Reynolds wasn’t his responsibility.

Jake looked very grave. “I’m well aware that the rest of the world might think that, but the mother of my child was responsible for Emma’s injuries and the death of her husband. Since apparently Emma has no one else, taking care of bills and making certain she has anything she needs is the least that I can do for her.” He glanced around and lowered his voice. “I’d prefer that no reporters know I’m here or that my son is still here.”

Grogan nodded. “We’re a small hospital, Mr. Bannaconni, but we’re very discreet.”

Jake let out a relieved sigh and slumped a little to show how tired and upset he was. “Please let Emma’s doctors know I’m willing to help out. I need to see my son now, if that’s possible.”

The first step toward inserting himself into Emma’s life was accomplished. He let himself be led to the nursery where he donned a gown, mask and gloves to stare down at the wrinkled little boy who lay naked in the small incubator beneath the glare of the hospital lights.

 

 


HOW
is she today, Chelsey?” Jake asked as the young nurse came down the hallway toward him. “I’ve just come back from seeing my son and thought I’d peek in on her.”

Emma’s room was the first room closest to the nursery. She was pregnant and the OB doctor wanted her nearby in case she began to miscarry after her traumatic ordeal. It was easy enough for Jake to use the excuse that she was so close to his son to look in on her. Though conscious, Emma had been listless and unresponsive to the doctors and nurses. But when he walked in, her blue-green gaze would jump to his face and stay there.

Chelsey sighed. “She doesn’t talk to anyone, Mr. Bannaconni. We’re all a little afraid for her. But I heard your son was doing better. He’s breathing on his own now and it’s been only three days.”

“Yes, he seems much better, although he should be gaining more weight, they tell me.” Jake paused with his hand on Emma’s door. So far no one had ever stopped him from going in. Today he wanted Emma to give the staff her permission to allow him to help her. “I’m going to try to give Emma a reason to live today. You gave me the idea the other day when we talked.”

Chelsey patted his shoulder and this time her smile was flirtatious. “I hope you can find a way to get through to her.”

Jake smiled back, letting his gaze slide over her with a man’s interest. Chelsey’s breath caught in her throat and she gave him a little wave as she sauntered off, her hips swaying more than usual. Jake pushed open the door to Emma’s room and slipped inside.

As he entered he heard Chelsey giggle. “He’s so hot, Anna. My God, when he smiles I think I’m going to orgasm on the spot.”

He glanced at Emma and knew she’d heard Chelsey’s comment. He closed the doors on the laughing nurses and crossed to her side.

Emma held her breath. He was back. She could go far away from the others and not have to face the reality of being completely alone again, not have to think of her beloved Andrew as dead, not have to deal with losing his baby, but then this man would come in and sit down, filling the room, filling her head with the scent and sight of him, compelling her to live again. He forced her back to the surface every time, where there was no escape from the terrible grief that overwhelmed her.

Silently she pleaded for him to go, to just let her be in the fuzzy, disconnected state that protected her from feeling—but once his gaze focused on her, it didn’t leave.

“How are you today, Emma?” He always sounded intimate, talking to her as if they were best friends—more than friends. Closer. He used the pads of his fingertips to stroke back her hair. “Are you feeling any better?”

Each time he touched her, no matter how light, she felt as if electricity arced between them, zapping her alive again, so that the fears and the sorrow were closer than ever. And he held her there, gently but firmly, forcing her to look at her empty life while unimaginable grief poured into her, holding her prisoner.

She didn’t answer him. She never did, just looked up at him mutely, begging him to let her drift back into her safe little cocoon.

Jake dragged a chair to the side of the bed, spun it around and straddled it. “I named the baby this morning. I didn’t ever think much about what to call him, but I wanted to give him a good name, something that he’d be happy with even as an adult. I found a baby book on names in the waiting room.”

She couldn’t look away from his face. His tone was soft and low and very intense, but there was something that was a little off. She couldn’t tell what it was. His eyes never left her face. He reminded her of a leopard with his golden-green eyes and his unblinking, piercing stare, so focused on her there was nowhere to hide.

He leaned forward. “He’s so little, Emma. I swear I could fit him in the palm of my hand. It scares me to think of taking him home when I don’t know the first thing about taking care of a baby. Does it scare you? You’re going to have a baby. Did they tell you that? That the baby is still alive with only you to protect it?”

Her breath caught in her throat and her hands moved to cover her stomach. Was it true? She could feel her heart pound, hear it thundering in her ears. She’d willed herself to die, she’d
wanted
to die, and she would have taken her baby—Andy’s baby—with her. She closed her eyes briefly, afraid she’d heard wrong.

Jake sighed softly and ran his fingers through his hair as if in agitation. “That’s what scares me. There’s only me to parent, to give the baby a good home, and I’m so far from the real deal.” That admission slipped out and his voice rang with truth.

She swallowed—hard. Her throat convulsed. It took effort to part her dried lips and she had to reach for her voice. When it came it was thin and shaky and nearly unrecognizable. “Are you certain? About my baby? Are you certain I didn’t lose it?”

He leaned closer to her. Jake Bannaconni. She’d heard his name spoken in hushed, awed whispers, but she still couldn’t figure out why she knew him. What was there that was so familiar, and why did she feel as if his will held hers?

“Your baby is fine, Emma. The doctor said even with the blood loss, the baby appears to be healthy.” Jake covered her hand with his. “There are no signs that the pregnancy will terminate. You’re going to be a mother.”

Tears burned behind her eyes again. Her baby. Her precious baby was safe. She wasn’t entirely alone and there was a small piece of Andy growing inside of her. “Thank you for telling me about the baby. I was afraid to ask and no one thought to tell me. They only told me about my head, my leg, a million other injuries, and . . .” She trailed off and stared up at the ceiling, blinking, tears welling in her eyes.

“Andrew,” he supplied gently. “I’m sorry, Emma. We both have to live with what happened. And we both have babies to raise by ourselves.” He flashed a small smile. “I have the feeling you’ll be much better at the parenting part of it than I will.”

“You’ll be a good father,” she reassured him absently. “Don’t worry so much.” How in the world was she going to take care of a baby?

Jake picked up Emma’s hand from where it lay quietly under his, his thumb moving along the back of it. His touch was achingly familiar. “Have they said when you can get out of here?”

Emma shook her head. “Where would I go?” The thought of her apartment, her home with Andrew, was too much for her to contemplate. She couldn’t face going back to their home and trying to pack up Andy’s things.

“We’ll deal with it later, when you’re feeling stronger,” he assured. “I called my lawyer and asked him to look into insurance for you and a settlement of some sort. I hope you don’t mind, but I at least wanted to get the ball rolling for you. I know you don’t want to think about money, but it will be important when you have the baby.”

Emma lifted her lashes, allowing her gaze to drift over his face. There was something about him that haunted her, commanded her, drew her like a magnet when she wanted to be left alone, to simply disappear. No one else compelled her as he did. She could simply go inside her mind and stay there, not face life without her beloved Andy. But once this man entered the room, he seemed to steal her will. She knew him. The memory of him nagged at her, yet she couldn’t place him.

She could remember the events leading up to the accident, sitting in the car, so excited, the news of her pregnancy on the tip of her tongue. But she was holding back, determined to wait until they were at the restaurant and she could see Andy’s expression, watch his eyes and his mouth when she revealed they were going to have their first child. He’d died without ever knowing. She hated that. Her gaze flicked again to Jake’s face.

She didn’t remember the crash. She remembered after, when there was pain and fire and Jake staring at her, stopping her from following Andy. His eyes fascinated her, pulled at her, a predator searching for prey. His focused stare made her uncomfortable, yet in some strange way comforted her. Maybe if her head ever stopped throbbing and the doctors backed off the pain medication she could think more clearly, but right now his personality was too strong and she couldn’t think.

“How do I know you? I can’t recall that we’ve ever met, but when I look into your eyes, I feel like I know you.”

“I’m the man who pulled you out of the car.” He looked down and withdrew his hand from hers to rub at his temples, as if he had the same headache she did. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get to your husband. The fire was everywhere.”

She saw burns on his hands and her heart jumped. She reached out and caught his wrists, turning the scorched palms over. “Is this from pulling me out of the car?”

Jake drew back, something inside him shaken from the touch of fingers on his skin. It wasn’t sexual. He responded to women in a sexual way as a rule and he didn’t mind relating to them in a physical way. He controlled women easily when they had a mutual attraction, but this was something altogether different and he didn’t trust the feeling at all. “Yes.” His voice came out gruffer than he intended.

She let out a small sigh. “I’m sorry you were hurt.”

“Emma,” Jake said softly, “what matters is that you and the baby are safe.” He regretted pulling away from her when she’d voluntarily reached out to him.

Chelsey popped her head in the door. “You need anything, Emma?” she asked, but her gaze devoured Jake.

Emma’s face closed down, her eyes going vague. When she didn’t respond, Chelsey frowned and looked at Jake. He rose and patted Emma’s limp hand.

“I’ll get you a few things from your apartment, Emma,” he said deliberately. “I’ll be back this evening.” He nodded toward the hallway and Chelsey followed him out. “I’ll need her key and the address,” he told the nurse.

“I don’t want to get into trouble,” Chelsey said.

Jake stepped closer, leaning down as if to keep their conversation totally private. His voice was low and compelling, but he knew the heat of his body and the scent of his cologne enveloped her. She inhaled and a small shiver of awareness went through her. “I wouldn’t let you get into trouble. Emma has to snap out of this, and if she has a few things familiar to her, it may help. You’re just helping your friend and you saw she didn’t object.”

Chelsey nodded and hurried away, to return with the key and a small piece of paper with the address on it.

“You’re a good friend to Emma,” Jake said as he pocketed the key and quickly walked away before she could change her mind.

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