To Have the Doctor's Baby (10 page)

“I feel like the Paul Revere of the technology age. Instead of the British, it was a warning that my eggs are coming.”

“Well, one hopes it's not plural.” He moved farther into the room and rested a hip on the corner of her desk. “That could mean twins.”

“Yikes.”

“No kidding.” He folded his arms over his chest and looked down at her. “So, they must have a reason for giving you some lead time on this.”

“Yeah. But I'm not sure what it is. Any ideas?”

The gleam that stole into his eyes said he had a few sexy ones. “It's probably about planning.”

“In what way?”

He lifted one broad shoulder. “I suppose it would be good to know if you were traveling.”

“Right.” She nodded; then a thought occurred to her. “Are you leaving town?”

“I wasn't planning to. Unless you came with me.” One corner of his mouth quirked up. “Maybe an exotic getaway would increase the chances of success.”

She blinked up at him. That would require him to take time off, so this couldn't possibly be the same man who fought tooth and nail to work when he could hardly stand. Clearly he was teasing her, but she could play the “what if” game to make him happy.

“Exotic.” She tapped her lip thoughtfully. “I suppose climbing Mount Kilimanjaro would make my eggs quiver with excitement.”

“What about Antarctica? Huddling together for warmth could be just the ticket.”

She shivered and it wasn't just the idea of that level of
cold. It was thoughts of pressing her body to his and how easily that would work to warm her. This was getting interesting.

“Maybe a tropical island,” she suggested. “Tahiti. Fiji. Bora Bora. Or Palau?”

One dark eyebrow arched suggestively. “Do you have a bikini?”

“Yes.”

He nodded, pretending to consider that in a completely clinical way. “I could definitely picture a beach venue having a measure of success.”

“So you think a bikini would help the boys get their game on?”

“It wouldn't be easy, mind you.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “But I'm sure they'd rally.”

“Good to know.”

“What about practice makes perfect?” he suggested.

“You're such a guy.”

And that brought her straight to what she now thought of as the “kitchen kiss.” He'd told her she wasn't hard on the eyes and he'd acted instinctively when he kissed her. He
was
a guy. No question that sharing a house with him was blurring the lines of their agreement, but her goal was to have a baby, not a relationship. She had to keep her eyes on the prize.

He leaned over to look at what was on her computer screen. “So, what are you working on?”

“The gala. I just got an email with the final menu after firming up the head count.”

“It's never firm,” he warned. “People have a way of not showing up.”

“I'm aware of that. So is she.”

“Who?” he asked. “Candy Garrett.”

“Again—who?”

“She's a chef, the recent winner of a TV reality competition, born and raised here in Las Vegas. The series generated a lot of press because of issues between the contestants and Candy's personal story that earned her the public's sympathy and approval. She was hired here in town by one of the Strip resorts. I got her to donate her time to do the food for my event.”

“Must have been your charm.”

“Oh, please.” She didn't believe that for a second. “It had nothing to do with me.”

“Then how did you talk her into it?”

“All I did was mention Children's Medical Charities. That's where her personal story comes in. Her little girl was born at Mercy Medical Center and she had a heart defect. The hospital had just received equipment to do pediatric echocardiograms from CMC—to the tune of several hundred thousand dollars.”

He nodded. “The latest technology is far more sophisticated and has better resolution. That makes it easier to see what's wrong.”

“And because of it, the doctors were able to diagnose and repair her daughter's problem before it turned into a major health threat.”

“So she directly benefited from the charity and wants to give back,” he said.

“Exactly. And because she was a TV personality, a lot of people are interested in the gala who wouldn't have been. It's publicity we can really use.”

“Good.”

“Even better?” She grinned up at him. “She's pregnant again.”

“Wonder if
she
went to Bora Bora,” he said.

“I wouldn't know. But you can ask her yourself at the event. I can introduce you.”

“You could.” He hesitated half a second, then added, “If I was going.”

She knew he made generous donations but felt the event itself was all show, no substance. If something wasn't directly involved in patient diagnosis and treatment, it was a waste of his time. “I thought you'd make an exception for this fundraiser.”

“You thought wrong.”

She got the message loud and clear. Just because he was helping her have a baby, that didn't mean she should expect anything else. Very soon she would be able to manage gratitude for the warning, but not right this second. As much as she'd like to play “what if,” she'd had a front-row seat to how easily that could lead to “if onlys.”

If only she'd been enough for him.

If only he'd loved her.

Refusing to play the first time around would have saved her the pain of regret, but one thing she'd never be sorry about: She'd come out of the relationship with a boundless respect for Nick Damian. There was no doubt in her mind that his passion, dedication and commitment to doing the right thing were qualities she wanted her child to have. He was still the best man she knew and the one she wanted to father her baby.

She looked up at him and smiled, pretty sure her hurt feelings didn't show. Practice had made her perfect in putting on a facade. “So, three days. Do we have a date?”

“I'll put it on the calendar.”

N
ick wasn't exactly sure how Ryleigh had talked him into going shopping early Saturday morning. Well, technically he knew. Her car was in for routine maintenance and he felt guilty for raining on her parade the night before. She'd done a pretty good job of hiding her disappointment about him not going to her big event. If he didn't know her so well, the professional face might have fooled him. But he did know her and felt as if he'd kicked a kitten. In the rain. An eager, enthusiastic kitten just trying her best to do a good job.

That made him feel like crap.

He'd volunteered to be her chauffeur because she needed a ride to the mall and now he was going shopping.

Really?

The Fashion Show Mall was so far off his radar, he'd had to put the address in his car's GPS before she got in. Although now Ry was happily telling him where to go.
They were on the 15 Freeway going north, away from Henderson, when she noticed the highlighted route on the dashboard and turned up the volume.

“Get off on Spring Mountain Road,” she said, about two seconds before the female voice on the GPS echoed her directions. Ryleigh stared at him. He could feel it.

“What? You don't trust me?”

“A second opinion,” he said. “In the medical field it happens all the time.”

“That's low, Damian. That really hurts.” Her voice held a whole lot of teasing. “I can't believe you would doubt my directional capabilities to, arguably, the best mall in Las Vegas.”

“What about that new one in CityCenter?” he asked, trying to deflect her.

“Crystals? It's fabulous. And expensive. But Fashion Show has great stuff at prices that aren't equivalent to buying a car or house. And you're changing the subject,” she accused.

“Me?”

“Yeah.” She huffed out a breath. “I can't believe you would doubt that I could get us here. That's like saying I have no estrogen.”

He knew that wasn't true. She was all woman and knew how to use it. Otherwise he'd have let her rent a car while he stayed home to watch college football on his big, flat-screen TV.

“At the first light, turn left,” she directed, just before the GPS chick said in point-something miles turn left on Fashion Show Drive.

When he glanced at the passenger seat, Ryleigh was grinning at him.

“I feel like I'm getting double-teamed,” he grumbled.

When he pulled into the tiered, covered parking
structure, the mechanical female voice said, “Lost satellite reception.”

“Thank God.”

“Goes double for me,” Ryleigh said. “If you go up to the second floor, we can park by the entrance to Nordstrom.”

“Is that good?”

She made that sound women do that's part surprise and part exasperation that a man would not know something so important. “Strategically speaking and purely from a shopping perspective, this level is coveted by women across the Las Vegas Valley. Chick fights have been known to break out over parking spaces here.”

“Really?”

“No. At least not that I'm aware of.” She glanced over. “And it made you think about something else besides missing football.”

“That was mean.”

“And don't you forget it,” she warned.

Not likely. Apparently she knew him pretty well, too.

He pulled into an empty space not far from the second-story walkway that connected the covered parking structure to the shopping center. Fortunately he hadn't cut off a car and no one was waiting in ambush as they exited his SUV.

As they walked side by side to the upscale department store's entrance, their hands brushed more than once. Each time he fought back the urge to link his fingers with hers. Each time the fight made him edgier.

“You know,” he said, “it's not like you to wait until the last minute to get something you need.”

“Last minute?” She glanced up at him with a what's-your-deal expression.

“Yeah.” Must have been something in his tone. He
opened the heavy, glass store door and let her precede him inside. “You've known about this thing since right after you started your new job at Mercy Medical Center.”

“It's a week from today,” she pointed out. “And I've had a thing or two on my mind. Next Friday would have been last minute. Actually, next Saturday would have been worse because of the things that come up on the big day. So, I think a week out is not bad, as shopping time frames go.”

“Okay. If you say so. And really, how hard can it be?” he asked, trying for optimism.

“So speaks the man who would only need to go into a tuxedo shop and rent a suit.”

“I actually own a tux.”

“That's right. I'd forgotten.”

He let the door close behind him and looked around. If he'd stepped onto an alien planet it couldn't have looked more foreign to him. Snappy outfits all put together on faceless forms and displays of women's accessories were everywhere. Overhead lighting was as state-of-the-art as any surgery room he'd ever seen. Earth-tone marble paths led to the different departments on the floor and strains of piano music drifted in the air.

Ryleigh looked up at him. “Are you all right? You look pale.”

“Fine.”

“Okay. Follow me.”

He didn't have a choice. The maze of racks with hangers and headless mannequins wearing sweaters and belts were disorienting. He couldn't find his way around here if the trail was marked with neon lights
and
a GPS.

Ryleigh dragged him to an area with shiny dresses made out of silky material. The sign on the wall said After Five, so he figured it was the right place. Like a woman
obsessed she found a rack, then evaluated each dress in her size, one by one. The first time she pulled one out, a saleswoman appeared. It was like magic.

“Hi. My name is Lisa.” The short, attractive brunette smiled. “May I start a dressing room for you?”

“That would be great,” Ryleigh said.

“I'll take this and you keep on looking.”

While the woman was gone, Ryleigh found five more possibilities and handed them to him one by one. Each weighed hardly anything, but together they were surprisingly heavy. She wasn't that big. He was no expert, but he didn't think any of these dresses had much material in them. The mass of beads and sequins gave him a whole new respect for the density of female formal attire.

Ryleigh examined every dress in the department. “Okay, that's a start.”

“Really? Just a start?”

“It's not like buying scrubs in small, medium and large.”

“I knew that.”

“Right.” She patted his arm. “I need to try them on now. See how they fit.”

Lisa appeared and took the dresses from him. “There are chairs by the escalator if you'd like to sit. Or there's one here in case your wife wants an opinion or approval.”

She wasn't his wife anymore because he'd lost her approval a long time ago, Nick thought. But he was here to make up for disappointing her.

“I'll just sit here,” he told the woman.

That was a mistake, as it turned out. A few minutes of calm was annihilated when Ryleigh walked out for a full-body look. The mirror had two wings so that she could see herself from the front, right and left. That was three sides of her body too many for his peace of mind.

“What do you think?” she asked.

It was a floor-length strapless purplish-colored dress in some kind of shiny silk that whispered when she moved. Over her breasts and across her midriff there was crisscrossing material that outlined her body from chest to hip, then flared out.

“Nick?”

“Hmm?”

“Do I look like a big eggplant in this?”

He was having trouble forming a coherent thought and unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. Answering her question was a challenge, but he'd do his best.

He cleared his throat. “I've only seen eggplant in parmesan form, so I couldn't really say.”

She gave him a look. “Don't be so literal. Do you like it on me?”

“Yes.” Enough to peel it off her slowly, and that was the highest compliment he could think of. And one best kept to himself.

She turned and gave the dress a critical assessment. “I'll put it in the maybes.”

Then she lifted the long skirt and disappeared. He had just enough time for a few deep breaths to bring down his blood pressure before she was back, this time in black lace. It was another strapless number with a full, ruffle-tiered skirt that stopped just above her knees, flirty and fascinating.

“What do you think?”

That he could get her out of this one even faster than the last. “It's fine.”

She met his gaze and there was irony in hers. “Seriously? Fine is the best you can do?”

No. He could do better, but Lisa would probably call
security and have them booted from the store or arrested. Or both. “I like it.”

“Wow. There's high praise.”

“It's the best I can do. If you wanted girlfriend input, you should have brought Avery with you.”

“I would have, but she's busy today.”

“Doing what?”

“Actually, your friend Spencer Stone is pretty much making her life hell these days.”

Good. If Nick had to be in hell, it was good to have company. “What's he doing?”

“Something about a piece of equipment he wants for the Cardiac Care Unit.”

“So Avery should just okay the expenditure. She's the hospital controller.”

Ryleigh pulled at the strapless top of the dress. “And she has to account for all those things. It's a big decision, but he's really pushing. So she had to work on Saturday.”

“Lucky her,” he said.

Ryleigh laughed as she turned away. The third time she came back, he was glad this was a public place or he'd have been a goner. The dress was white with crystals accenting the waist. Long sleeves and a high neck covered a lot of her, but that was no relief to his senses. She turned from side to side, trying to see the back. He had a full on view of her back, from neck to waist.

His mouth went dry. Sometimes it was what you couldn't see that tortured a guy the most. The thing was, he'd seen every single square inch of her skin. He knew what it felt like and he'd tasted her everywhere. Seeing her like this made him ache in places he never had before.

“I think this is the one,” she said.

Of course. Because his luck wasn't that good.

“Looks nice,” he managed.

“That's no better than fine.” She turned to him. “Really? Do you like it?”

“Yeah.”

More than she would ever know.

“I have silver heels that would be great. And a matching evening bag.” Turning back to the mirror, she surveyed herself and thought out loud. “It's comfortable. Fits good.”

There was an understatement. The material molded to her body like a second skin. She looked like sin in silk and he wanted to be involved in the sin, buried in her silk.

She walked over to him and looked down. “You know, I've been teasing you mercilessly since we left the house, but I really appreciate you coming with me today.”

“What are friends for?” he said as casually as possible.

“I really hope you mean that, because I have another favor to ask.”

He groaned and barely managed to keep it inside. She had a way of pleading her case when all his defenses were in the dumper. “What?”

“This fundraiser really has my nerves in a twist. And that's the reason I decided to shop for a new dress.”

“I admit I'm not the sharpest scalpel in the O.R., but I'm not sure what one has to do with the other.”

“I just feel if I look good, I won't be as nervous that night.” She twisted her hands together.

“That dress should do the trick. You look—” He shrugged, at a loss for words. “Beautiful.”

“Really?”

“You're fishing for compliments now.”

“Yeah. Because this fundraiser is a very big deal—personally and professionally.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“You can come with me.” Her eyes were pleading. “I know you hate this kind of stuff. But your physical support on the actual night of the actual event would really help me out.”

“I'm not sure what I can do,” he said.

“Just be there to catch me in case I fall. It doesn't seem like much, but it would really mean a lot to me.”

He looked in her brown eyes, saw the way she caught her full bottom lip between her teeth. She was a vision in white, an angel who put her heart and soul into the job of raising money for children's charities. How could he turn her down?

“Okay.”

Her eyes went wide. “You'll come to the gala?”

“If it's that important to you. Yeah, I'll go.”

“Thank you, Nick.” She bent and gave him a hug and it was almost worth the price he paid.

That was the second time he'd said yes when every survival instinct he had told him to run the other way. This not being able to say no to her was different, a little new.

And a lot troubling.

 

Nick was in his office, checking out the patient lab results that Margo had put on his desk. He had one more patient to see before he stopped by the hospital, then went home to Ryleigh.

Home to Ryleigh.

The whole idea of it cracked open a deep yearning inside him. And how stupid was that? How much longer would this arrangement last? The answer was simple. Until she got pregnant.

Her fertile window had opened a couple days ago, but she'd put in some late nights working on the quickly
upcoming fundraiser. No sex had taken place, much to his disappointment. Over coffee that morning they'd agreed that tonight was the night. His body went hot and hard at the thought. He needed her and that thought leaked through to everything he did.

Even shopping. Especially shopping. After buying her dress, they'd walked around the mall. There was a shop with children's stuff—clothes, cribs, bedding with bears. Her eyes had gone tender and full of longing. She'd looked the same way at babies in strollers and kids toddling the aisles. It made him determined to give her one of her own. Besides his promise to do that, part of his motivation was selfish.