His Heir, Her Honor (3 page)

She scrambled for something to say and a way to get out. Fast. “No one can fault your dedication. I know well how many days you've worked longer shifts when we needed you. Now if you'll excuse me—”

The younger woman stopped her with a light touch to the arm. “I should explain. Carlos—Dr. Medina—and I have been going out for the past few weeks. We've been careful to keep it under wraps.” She adjusted one of the dozen frames on Wanda's desk. “He really hates how intrusive the media can be, so we're waiting for the perfect time for a controlled press release.”

No worries about steeling a breath. Nancy Wolcott had knocked Lilah into next year without even trying. Carlos, of course, hadn't said a word about it.

And they'd been dating for weeks, not days, not a onetime outing over coffee. But a relationship that needed a freaking press release.

Lilah bit back bile. “I hadn't heard.”

“I wanted to keep it quiet, too. I know he has a reputation for keeping relationships light but I think this might be headed somewhere.” Nancy laughed nervously, seemingly oblivious to the fact she was
gushing. “Perhaps he kept his distance before, back when he had to maintain his royal background. But now that everything's out in the open about his Medina name, he's free to pursue anyone he wants.”

Hearing the infatuation in Nancy's voice, Lilah wanted to hate her, to dismiss her like the royalty groupies who'd come out of the woodwork lately. She longed to find fault in someone who'd captured Carlos's interest when a night of sex with her hadn't moved him in even a passing way.

And yet she couldn't be catty. Nancy didn't know about that night with Carlos. No one did.

Furthermore, of every unattached female on staff, this one seemed least likely to be a gold digger or fame seeker. As a part of her job, Lilah knew the history of each employee. Nancy Wolcott was a nice person who very obviously had stars in her eyes over the new man in her life. Who could blame her?

Perhaps a woman who already had Carlos's child swimming around in utero.

A cold ache gelling inside her, Lilah tuned in to the rest of Nancy's lovelorn ramblings.

“I know I'm probably jumping the gun here, but he's such a gorgeous, moody man. A woman can't help but want to touch those inner depths.” Nancy pressed a hand to her heart, her eyes fluttering closed as she inhaled.

Lilah wanted to give the woman a good swift kick in her unrealistic expectations about Carlos Medina. Even when he'd dated in the past, she'd seen how emotionally detached the man could be, something that hadn't changed one bit since the whole “son of a deposed monarch” revelation.

Not that she was surprised. There was no such thing
as a fairy-tale ending. Libraries labeled it fiction for a reason. She'd seen firsthand with her parents how quickly love soured, how easy it was for a woman to turn into a pathetic moony-eyed doormat.

Her father had used his job as a Hollywood agent to seduce countless wannabe starlets. To this day his wife—Lilah's mother—did her level best to ignore the indiscretions that messed with her perception of happily ever after with her hunky, rich dream man. On occasion, the bimbo of the month set her eyes on a ring or got angry when the contracts didn't flow in and would confront the Mrs., forcing her to face her husband's infidelities.

A fight would ensue. Tears would flow. He would offer up jewelry or a romantic getaway to “reconnect” and all would be forgiven until the next time when they repeated the same dysfunctional cycle all over again—leaving Lilah with two drawers jam-packed full of tourist T-shirts brought home by her lovey-dovey parents. In fact, her parents were on one of their make-up cruises now, and once they returned she would have to tell them about the baby.

About Carlos?

Listening to Nancy detail her evening with Carlos at the symphony, Lilah had to accept that the woman wasn't blowing anything out of proportion. He really had asked her out on honest-to-God dates. Not that Lilah had entertained dreams of such with him. But damn it, they had slept together. They had been friends before that. And while he wasn't the warm fuzzy kind, she deserved better from him than the way he'd treated her since their one-night stand.

She definitely deserved better than what she'd experienced in his office a few short minutes ago.

Nancy eyed his door warily. “I hope he's not in a bad mood after your confrontation.”

Shock jolted her already ragged nerves. Nancy couldn't possibly know about the baby. Had someone been outside the door listening? Wanda, perhaps?

As she calmed down enough to look at Nancy's curious face, she realized the woman was just that—curious. She wasn't shocked or mad, none of the reactions that would be normal if she'd heard rumors that her new “boyfriend” had fathered a child with someone else. “I assume you're referring to the incident in the men's locker room.”

“I'm sorry.” Nancy pulled up straighter, fidgeting with her logo buttons until they were all cockeyed. “I shouldn't have said anything. I didn't mean to be so chatty.”

Lilah eased between her and the exit. “I'm truly curious how you heard this quickly. Please, be frank.”

Nancy winced. “I heard in the cafeteria. The buzz is pretty intense as people try to figure out what he did to make you that angry. Bets are being taken for possible reasons.”

“And what would those guesses be?”

She nibbled her lip, hesitating for a moment before continuing warily. “Most think you're upset because he blew off that board meeting earlier this week. Others wonder if you're freaking out over him taking on too many pro bono cases. For what it's worth, my money's on the latter. He's such a bighearted man under that gruff exterior.”

Lilah gripped the bobby pins in her pocket so tight
they would probably leave holes in her fingers. “Hope you didn't bet the bank on that because you'll lose your life's savings.”

If the hospital rumor mill was already churning over one confrontation—granted, a pretty theatrical one—she hated to think how soon her own personal life would be fodder for cafeteria gossip. Good God, she would have to be so much more careful to protect her child's privacy. For the first time it really sunk in that she was carrying a royal child, a person who would be dogged by the press for a lifetime.

Would the news of her child fit on the same press release as Carlos's new girlfriend?

Panic roiled. So much for her decision to opt for an even-keeled “wait and see” attitude. She'd been fooling herself. Her visceral reaction to this woman made it clear too many emotions were involved already.

She needed to keep on fighting rather than letting him roll over her. She would not let her child be hurt by Carlos. She would shield this precious life as best she could from the pain of a father's neglect.

The click of a turning doorknob snapped her attention back to the reception area a second before Carlos's office door opened, the man of the hour filling the frame with his broad shoulders. A flash of surprise raced across his dark eyes.

Anger, frustration and, hell yes, hurt chased through her. Quickly, she stifled the urge to vent the steam building inside her. She'd already made a large enough scene for one day, and she didn't intend to let Carlos know just how deeply he'd wounded her.

That didn't mean she had to balk at making him squirm.

Lilah flicked her loose hair, hair mussed by him during their out-of-control kisses, over her shoulder. “Hello again, Dr. Medina. I was just talking to your new girlfriend.”

T
he shots just kept coming today.

Carlos looked from one woman to the other. How much had Lilah said before he interrupted? Apparently not much since Nancy appeared blessedly oblivious. She was a nice person he'd gone out with a couple of times in hopes of erasing Lilah from his memory.

Nancy was everything he wanted in his personal life. She was intelligent, witty, with common interests and made no demands on his emotions. She should have been perfect for him, except she left him cold. Rather than helping him move on from that colossal mistake, the presence of his “girlfriend” reminded him of just how much every woman paled alongside Lilah.

He'd been planning to break things off with Nancy tonight, even before today's shocking revelation. Continuing to see her when he had unresolved issues
with Lilah wasn't fair. Damn shame he hadn't spoken to Nancy a day earlier.

The new radiologist looked from Carlos to Lilah and back again, confusion stamped on her face. “I don't mean to interrupt if you two need to talk business. I can always come back later for our dinner date.”

Carlos nodded. “That would be best.”

“All righty.” She arched up on her toes as if to give him a quick kiss, then paused.

Either she realized such a public display of affection would be inappropriate in the workplace—or she saw Carlos's scowl. Regardless, the woman got the message and pulled away fast.

He caught Lilah's raised eyebrow and added, “Actually, I have an appointment I need to take care of as soon as I check on my patient.”

He'd contacted his doctor and the lab about checking his sperm count. He already felt certain of the outcome, but he needed to confirm for Lilah's sake.

And if by some fluke he could father children? Then he would tuck aside his reservations about the way she unsettled his world and launch an immediate campaign to win her over. No half measures, he would be all in, 24/7, until they settled things between them once and for all.

Turning away from Nancy, toward Lilah, he took in her tumbled hair, remembered how it got that way, felt the inevitable kick to his balance. “We will be talking again tomorrow.”

 

Leaving the hospital lab, Carlos walked down the corridor back to his office in a daze. It had been a helluva day. He'd started out operating on a child who reminded
him too much of himself, a child caught in the crossfire of war. Before he'd found even five minutes to regain his footing, Lilah had swept aside his shower curtain. Now, his day had ended with the surprise revelation from his own doctor. Not definitive results, by any means, but there was a very slim chance he could father children.

Even the possibility rocked him to the core. He needed time to hole up in his office and plan his next move.

He rounded the corner. Nancy waited beside the door, shuffling from foot to foot while she texted on her cell phone. Apparently she'd been busy while he was gone. She'd changed from her work clothes into a dress—a silky sort of thing for a nice dinner out.

There was no way he could sit through dinner waiting for the right opening to break things off. He needed to make his position clear now. It was the only fair thing to do for Nancy and Lilah.

“Nancy, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting.”

“No need to apologize.” She tucked her cell phone into her tiny black bag. “I was just telling my best friend about our date tonight.”

He winced. “About that.” He pushed open his office door. “Let's step into my office so we can talk.”

“Oh, um, it's too late in the evening, isn't it?” She scrunched her nose and stayed in the hall. “You need to cancel. I understand. We can go out tomorrow instead. Or how about I cook you dinner—”

“Nancy,” he cut her ramble short as gently as possible. “I'm afraid I've given you the wrong impression. This isn't something we should discuss in the hall.”

She chewed her lip for a second before smiling, too brightly. She charged into the office ahead of him. He
felt bad for misleading her. He'd made a mess of his personal life. He couldn't change the past, but starting now, he could make things right.

As he followed, he decided no more hesitation. No more avoidance. Just as he needed to be clear with Nancy now, he should have settled things with Lilah before.

He wouldn't make the same mistake again. As soon as he finished this confrontation with Nancy, he would go straight to Lilah's—tonight, not tomorrow—and tell her the results of his lab test.

 

Standing in the open doorway to her penthouse condo, Lilah wished she'd checked the peephole first. But then why hadn't the doorman rang to let her know Carlos was on his way up? Even royalty shouldn't be given a free pass into her building.

Granted, she wouldn't have sent Carlos away, but she would have liked a second to prepare herself before facing him again.

Corridor sconces bathed him in a halogen glow as he waited. Moisture from the light rain clung to his hair and glinted on the hint of silver at his temples. Too easily, she could envision him damp from his shower earlier. Except now he wore clothes. His long trench was open, revealing his gray suit, red tie trekking down his chest the way her fingers itched to mimic.

The hall echoed with intimate silence, everyone else tucked in for the night inside their units in the restored waterfront building. Carlos had been here in the past for informal gatherings, drop-ins and dinner parties, but always with others. Never alone.

Totally alone. Like now.

She gripped the brass doorknob tighter. “I thought you said we would be speaking tomorrow.”

The scent of the salty outdoor air clung to him, teasing her nose.

“My appointment took care of itself faster than I expected.” Palm flattened to the door frame, he looked past her shoulder into her condo. “We should step inside.”

Even fully covered in silky sleep pants and matching green paisley top, she was too aware of the nighttime, her PJs and
him.
“It's polite to ask to be invited in rather than demand.”

His jaw flexed with irritation. “Let's stop with the word games. We have important business to discuss.”

Of course, he was right. She just resented that he'd caught her unawares, dictating the time and manner of their meeting. “Come inside, then. But don't get too comfortable. It's been a long—”
disappointing
“—day. I'm tired.”

Careful to step well clear of him, she pressed her back against the hall rather than risk an accidental brush of her body and his. His uneven gait thudded against the freshly restored hardwood floors as he walked deeper into her condominium. She loved her two-bedroom haven full of character from the whitewashed brick walls to the soaring ceiling with exposed beams and a loft office. A wall of windows revealed the twinkling lights of the Tacoma skyline, historic Foss Waterway and a fog-ringed mountain in the distance.

Shrugging out of his trench coat, Carlos stopped just shy of her burgundy sofa, half in, half out of her place, much like he kept himself from committing to any people, emotions, relationships. “About Nancy—”

She cut him off with the wave of her hand. “I don't care who you date.” And maybe if she kept saying it often enough, she would believe it. “That's your business and has nothing to do with us. We were never a couple. You and I have nothing more to say to each other outside of hospital business until after the paternity test.”

“Nancy and I are not an item, never were,” he ignored her final jab, sticking to the point he seemed determined to press. “We had a couple of casual dates, and I'd already decided to break things off before today.”

“How convenient, but still not relevant.” She padded closer to him, her bare feet whispering along the cool, bare flooring. “If that's all you came to say, then we're done.”

She pointed to the door.

He flung aside his trench to rest on the back of a striped chair and clasped her wrist in a big but gentle grip. Silently, slowly,
deliberately,
he folded her arm back against her chest, which brought him closer to her. His eyes turned smoky with intensity….

And focused on her mouth.

Her heart somersaulted in her chest. “Don't even go there, Carlos,” she warned, but didn't pull away. “Any urge to kiss you evaporated once you refused to believe me about the pregnancy.”

Teasing his thumb along her speeding pulse, he stilled her again with his eyes. “I came here to tell you that I'm willing to entertain the possibility this could be my baby.”

The sensual tug, the raspy allure of his callused fingers on her skin sidetracked her, delaying her brain from absorbing his words for three, needy heartbeats.

Then awareness faded from her body as his words
penetrated, followed by realization of the reason for his surprise visit. She leaned nearer, her breasts so close to his chest a simple deep inhale could skim her tingling nipples against him.

She kept her breathing shallow, even as she lowered her voice into a husky whisper sure to heat his exposed neck. “Got a sperm count check, did you? That was quick.”

A fleeting dry smile twitched his mouth. “It helps having connections in the medical world.”

Confirmation of her suspicion didn't make her feel one bit better. He wasn't here because he had a change-of-heart decision to trust her word. He'd gotten his proof. While she understood on an intellectual, practical level, she was currently feeling anything but sensible.

Let alone amenable.

“How nice for you.” She wrenched her wrist from his grip, wrapping her arms around herself and stalking to the window wall. “What a shock it must have been that you still have swimmers.”

“How nice that you find my medical history so amusing.”

“I don't find any of this at all funny. Particularly your insinuations about my honesty earlier.” She half looked back at him over her shoulder. “Have you let your new girlfriend know?”

Ouch, she hadn't meant to bring up the whole Nancy issue again and sound—God forbid—jealous. She looked away quickly before he could see any betraying emotions on her face.

His footsteps echoed behind her, closer, the sound and feel of him too familiar. “I told you already.” He
stroked back her hair from her ear. “I broke things off with her.”

Goose bumps rose on her skin, twinkling boat lights on the water blurring as everything faded but the sound of his breathing, the light skim of his fingers. Good God, his surgeon hands had such a capacity for minute movements, meticulous attentiveness until he turned even an inch of her shoulder into a volatile erogenous zone.

“Well, she should know you can still—”

Her words hitched up short on her next breath, heat flooding through her body and pooling low. The crisp scent of him—night air and ocean breeze—drew nearer, stronger, until she flattened her hand against the cool windowpane to steady herself.

He cupped her shoulders in broad, careful hands and turned her to face him. “She does not need to be informed.”

Did that mean they weren't sleeping together or that he'd been more careful? She tried not to care about the answer, hating that he had such power over her feelings. The way her temperature spiked when she simply looked at him, the sensation of the room shrinking to just the two of them. All too easily she could lose sight of how important it was to keep her head clear.

Shifting her focus from herself to her child, she asked, “What did the doctor have to say?”

His fingers slid down the length of her arms before he tucked his hands into his trouser pockets. “I can give you the lengthy technobabble about motility and counts if you wish. But while chances are very low I can father a child,” he swallowed hard, “the chance does exist.”

That simple slow swallow spoke emotional volumes
from such an aloof man. Sympathy for him stirred against her will. What a shocker this day must have been for him on a number of levels, which didn't excuse the way he'd betrayed their friendship over the past few weeks with his aloof behavior. But still, the hurt and disappointment eased at having him backtrack. Now, finally, they could make plans for their baby.

She chewed her lip, tasting toothpaste from her earlier attempt to brush away the persistent memory of his kiss. “I realize this must be a big surprise for you—”

“My feelings are irrelevant,” he charged over her, his face set again in a mask she'd seen him don during especially taxing surgeries. “I spoke with a GYN colleague and we can have a chorionic villus sampling done in your twelfth to fourteenth week of pregnancy to determine paternity.”

An early paternity test? He
still
doubted her? So much for sympathetic leanings on her part.

Anger starched up her spine again vertebrae by vertebrae. “Fine. You've said what you came here for—”

“Actually, I haven't finished.”

“Well, good for you. However, I've had more than enough of your company for one day.”

“That's my point. Today hasn't gone well for either of us. And regardless of how that test comes out, we're going to be tied to each other, whether through the pregnancy or through work. I'm assuming you have no intention of changing jobs and neither do I.”

“That hasn't stopped you from being a jerk since December.” She jabbed him in the chest with her pointer. “Other people—”
like Nancy
“—may be willing to put up with your moodiness because you were a hospital
legend even before you turned out to be some kind of royalty, but I happen to think that excuses nothing.”

“You're absolutely correct on all counts.” His angular face creased with the first smile she'd seen from him in so long, longer than she could remember. The power of it was so much stronger than it should be.

Her arm fell to her side. “Pardon me?”

“You heard me.” He stroked back a lock of her hair then withdrew his hand before she could object. “You're right. I've been a—what did you say earlier?—a jackass.”