by Cat Schield
“I don’t know anything about being a father,” he said, speaking more to himself than to her.
“And I don’t know anything about being a mother.” Tears filled her eyes. “I guess neither one of us is ready to be a parent.” She lifted her hand to wipe away the moisture trickling down her cheek, then cried out and clutched at her injured wrist.
“Are you okay?” Oliver asked, stepping forward, unsure how to take away her pain.
“I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I’m sure this has all been a lot to take in. I don’t expect anything from you. You can be as involved as you wish, or I’ll disappear out of your life. I just thought you deserve to know so you could make a decision.”
It stung that she’d presumed he was the sort of man who fails to step up and take responsibility. Yet could he blame her? He sure wasn’t acting like someone she could count on. What was wrong with him? He’d searched all over New York for her. Now that he’d found her and discovered that things between them were more complicated than he’d anticipated, all he wanted to do was flee.
Fresh tears poured from her eyes. “Damn. I’m a mess.”
Most women looked terrible when they cried, but Sammi’s misery only enhanced her fragility and awakened his desire to protect her. Before Oliver could assure her that she was perfectly within her rights to feel upset over her circumstances, a tall man clad in a white coat bearing the hospital’s logo entered the room.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Guzman.” The doctor gave her a comforting smile. “I understand you’ve taken quite a fall.”
Oliver stepped back, offering Sammi some privacy. Her gaze flicked his way, and he glimpsed anxiety in her eyes. No doubt she’d expect him to bolt. It was the perfect opportunity for him to run off, leaving her to cope with the situation all on her own. Did he really need a whole new set of responsibilities? Wasn’t there enough chaos in his personal life with his father’s reappearance?
Anger flared as thoughts of Vernon Lowell consumed him once more. Deciding what he needed was some fresh air to clear his mind, Oliver headed for the exit. Ten minutes later, back under control, he returned to the curtained area where Sammi had been and discovered she was gone. His first reaction was panic. Had he lost her again so soon? The backpack in his hands calmed him. He had her information in his grasp.
And as he went in search of a nurse who could explain where she’d been taken, Oliver realized that whether or not she was pregnant with his child, he didn’t intend to let her escape until he was ready to let her go.
* * *
Sammi wasn’t surprised when Oliver slipped out after the doctor arrived. After all, she’d given him permission to leave the entire situation in her hands. Therefore, she was quite surprised when, after a round of tests, including an MRI and a wrist X-ray, she was wheeled into a private room and he was waiting for her.
“I thought you’d gone,” she said, relief overwhelming her. She reined in her wayward emotions and concentrated on evening out her breathing. She couldn’t presume he’d stuck around because he cared about her even a little. They’d slept together once.
“I just stepped out to give you some privacy, and while I was gone, they took you away for testing.” He set her backpack on the rolling table beside her. “How are you feeling?”
She noticing that although his gaze had only briefly touched on her midsection, he didn’t ask about the baby. No doubt it would be easier on him if the accident had caused her to miscarry. Sammi shook off the uncharitable thought, reminding herself that he hadn’t taken the opportunity to bolt.
“My head hurts, and I’m nauseated,” she explained, “but they said that’s normal for someone who has a concussion.”
“They want to keep you overnight,” he said, his gaze flicking toward the doorway, as if he wished he could use it. “Is there someone I should call and let them know where you are?”
Celeste popped into Sammi’s mind, but she immediately shook her head. She wasn’t done being angry with her mother for suggesting Sammi terminate her pregnancy. “There’s no one.”
A frown puckered Oliver’s brow, indicating he didn’t believe her, but Sammi kept her expression resolute. It wasn’t as if she could count on her mother to rush over and smother her with concern.
“You need someone to keep an eye on you for the next couple days,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. “Concussions are nothing to take lightly.”
Sammi recalled the argument between her and Celeste. If she intended to follow through on her intention to quit modeling and move into a less expensive apartment, soon enough she’d be on her own.
“I’ll be fine.” She was proud of her confidence, even as she dreaded the battle that awaited her at home.
Oliver shook his head. “I don’t accept that.”
Even as she bristled at his bossy attitude, a knot unraveled inside her chest. For a brief moment she leaned into the feeling. What would it be like to have someone take care of her for a change? Someone who liberated her from all her worries and woes. Who lifted the burden of responsibility from her shoulders?
Feeling her resolve weaken, Sammi shook away the tempting thoughts. Her fingers crept over her abdomen and the lifelong responsibility that grew inside her. Despite the doubts about motherhood that she’d shared with Oliver earlier, Sammi was ready for the challenge.
“I don’t think you have a choice but to accept it,” she said, struggling to stay strong while her head pounded and her muscles screamed protests at her slightest move.
“Why are you being so difficult when all I want to do is make sure you’re okay?” he countered, sounding put out.
His concern sent electricity jolting through her. The energy blast momentarily vanquished her aches and pains.
“I’m not being difficult.”
Oliver crossed powerful arms over his chest and glared. “I disagree.”
“You’re not asking me what I need,” she said, “but telling me what you think I should do. And I already have enough people in my life doing that.”
They glared at each other for several seconds before Oliver blew out a breath and moved to stand beside the bed. His tone gentled as he said, “You came to me, remember?”
“And if I hadn’t, we never would’ve met again.” There was the crux of her fear. Not once over the last six weeks had he reached out to her. If she’d never become pregnant and gone to his apartment, she never would’ve seen him again.
“I had your name wrong. The bar was so loud. I thought you said Suzi. You knew who I was, and I never made an effort to get your full name.”
His closed expression left her wondering if the lapse had been intentional. After all, she knew a bunch of models he’d hooked up with in the past. Maybe she’d just been the latest in a long line of one-night-stands.
“Why did you run off without waking me that morning?” he continued.
“I don’t have a good answer.”
She wasn’t about to tell him that she’d dreaded facing an awkward morning-after good-bye.
He reached out and dragged a chair over, settling into it without releasing her from the fierce grip of his gaze. “How about you give me a mediocre answer then.”
She raised her right hand and fluttered it as if waving away his question. “What happened between us...” Her cheeks burned. “I was embarrassed.”
“Because we slept together?”
“I don’t make a habit of going home with men I’ve just met.
“We weren’t exactly strangers.” A speculative light sparked in his blue eyes. “You said we’d worked together once.”
“You didn’t remember me.”
“I don’t remember much about those days,” he admitted. “So that explains why you left the next morning. Why did you stay the night?”
She bit down on her tongue to stop herself from admitting that she’d once had
a huge crush on him. Nor did she want to explain that she hadn’t wanted to go home and deal with her mother.
“I thought you were into me, and I was definitely into you.”
“I was.” He shifted backward in his chair, unmoved by her conciliatory half smile. “It wasn’t a line when I said I found you fascinating.”
Sammi considered him for a long moment before venturing, “But now I’m pregnant.”
“You are.” His neutral expression made her shiver.
“And that is a complication you’d probably rather avoid.”
“Don’t assume anything about me.”
“I’m sorry.” The apology leaped to her lips automatically. She stared out the window, avoiding his stern gaze. “Between the pregnancy hormones and everything that’s been happening, I’m feeling overwhelmed.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Her lips quivered as she tried for a brave smile. “I think the last time we were together I might’ve mentioned I was looking at a career change. Well, that’s going to happen a lot faster now that I’m pregnant.”
“What are planning to do?”
“I know I have to move out of my apartment.” She dabbed at fresh tears as she recalled her mother’s dismay. “I can’t really afford it if I’m not working.”
“Do you have somewhere to go?”
“Not at the moment. I need to give notice, so I have thirty days to figure it out.”
“Do you have someone who can help you? What about your parents?”
“There’s only my mom. She’s my manager and doesn’t want me to stop modeling. We had a huge fight about it before I came looking for you.”
“What about your dad?”
“I have no idea who he is.” She blamed her concussion for that revelation. “My mom was pregnant with me when she emigrated from the Philippines and never talks about him.” Weariness rolled over her. “Dammit.” Fresh tears formed and rolled down her cheeks. “I’m not usually like this.”
“You’ve been through a lot today.” He offered her a box of tissues. “What can I do to help?”
As much as she wanted Oliver to be someone she could count on, Sammi knew that wasn’t realistic. Once upon a time his drug habit had landed him in rehab, or so went the gossip after he’d quit modeling. And although rumors indicated that he’d been sober ever since, it was a well-known fact that, between his exacting demands and short fuse, he was a difficult photographer to work with. She doubted the man was any easier to know.
“Nothing,” she said, recognizing that she had to do this on her own. “I appreciate your offer, but I’ll be okay.”
“I don’t doubt that.” He paused while she blew her nose, interrupting him. “But at the moment you’re in the hospital under observation.”
“It’s nothing serious,” she said, her thoughts focusing on the tiny life beating inside her. “The doctor just wants to observe me for a few hours. I’ll be out of here in no time. You really don’t have to stick around.”
“Stop trying to get rid of me.”
Her resolve weakened as he lowered his hand over hers and squeezed. At the gentle contact, her body lit up like a Broadway marquee. Longing surged through her, forcing Sammi to fight the impulse to grab his shirt and draw him close. Her pounding headache and sore muscles faded from her awareness. She could only stare at his soft lips and remember how she’d been swept away by his demanding kisses. A new ache began inside her that had nothing to do with the spill she’d taken. She wanted this man so badly it stole her breath.
“You don’t need to worry about me,” she insisted weakly, shifting her hand away before she said or did something to betray herself.
“I’m afraid it’s a little too late for that.”
Four
The sky brightened outside the hospital room window from indigo to lavender as Oliver sat beside Sammi and watched over her dozing form. Although the only obvious damage caused by her fall was her wrapped wrist, her skin’s ashen tone worried him. In the six weeks since he’d last seen her, Sammi had gone from vibrant to fragile. He’d photographed numerous pregnant celebrities and they’d all glowed with good health and joy. In contrast, Sammi looked as if she’d been stretched to the point of breaking by exhaustion and stress. Her pale listlessness alarmed him. Regardless of whether she was carrying his child, he found his concern for her on the rise. From the first moment he’d set eyes on her, she engaged his interest. Nothing had happened since to change that.
But with his father’s reappearance and the turmoil his trial and likely conviction would cause over the next several months, was this really a good time for Oliver to allow himself to be distracted by someone whose life was equally messed up? He didn’t even know if the baby was his. The situation could get ugly if he inserted himself into her life and then the ex-boyfriend reentered the picture.
On the other hand, if he was the father, with his family history Oliver was certain to be a terrible parent. Work kept him traveling a large chunk of the year. No doubt the absences would screw up his kid, and he’d come to resent Oliver the same way Oliver had resented Vernon. The cycle of neglect was doomed to be repeated.
Was he really going to be that guy? The one who bailed when things got hard? Why not? Thanks to his father, Oliver had been running from meaningful relationships all his life. From his earliest childhood, rejection was the kiss of death. Every time he’d tried to connect with his father and been dismissed, Oliver had withdrawn behind sneers and acted out to demonstrate his contempt. Yet isolating himself brought no happiness.
Oliver glanced toward Sammi and realized her eyes were opened and fixed on his face. Lightning shot through him at the mixture of joy and relief he glimpsed in the depths of her dark brown eyes. She glanced away, but that didn’t stop his heart from pounding.
Maybe it was time for a change.
“You’re still here,” she murmured, glancing at the clock on the wall. “I’ve been here all night?”
“The doctor wanted to keep you under observation. You can leave as soon as you feel able.”
“I’d really like to go as soon as possible.”
“I have a car standing by to take you home.”
“You really don’t—”
“Need to help,” he interrupted, nodding. “So you’ve said, but I feel responsible for you.”
An hour later, the doctor checked her over and she was discharged. Ignoring her continued protests, Oliver wheeled her through the hospital and the glass doors at the entrance to where a black town car sat waiting at the curb.
“Where to?” the driver asked after he’d settled behind the wheel.
Oliver peered at Sammi’s profile and marveled at the way his perspective had been transformed. Twenty-four hours earlier, he’d been a self-absorbed bachelor obsessing about the past and the drama surrounding his family. He never imagined that reconnecting with Sammi would present him with a whole new set of challenges or that he’d be looking forward to what the future had in store.
“I think he wants to know your address,” Oliver prompted.
Sammi gripped her backpack tightly and stared ahead for several long seconds as if grappling with exposing her private information to him. Oliver waited her out with barely restrained impatience, pondering all he learned about her today and anticipating how much more waited to be discovered. At long last, she gave an elaborate sigh and offered up her address.
When the car stopped at the curb in front of her apartment building, Oliver saw Sammi set her hand on the door handle and caught her arm to forestall her. She shot him a confused look while the driver came around to open her door.
“I’m going to escort you all the way to your door,” he explained.
“You don’t need to,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”
Oliver shook his head. “Maybe eventually, but not at the moment.�
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She opened her mouth as if to argue, but no protest emerged. Oliver noted her stiff posture and wondered if it was because of her bruises or her unhappiness with his insistence on aiding her. A moment later he got his answer as she slid away from him toward the open door, wincing as she pivoted on the seat and set one foot onto the sidewalk.
Although she displayed a great deal of fortitude during the walk toward the building, she wavered once they entered the lobby. Oliver offered her his arm, and she sighed as she took it. They made their way toward the elevator in silence. When the doors opened, she tried to wave him off, but Oliver shook his head. He’d promised to deliver her safely to her apartment, and that’s what he was going to do. They rode in silence to the tenth floor while he kept a close watch on her pale features and she acted as if he didn’t exist. Once they arrived at her floor, she refused his help and made her way down the hall toward her apartment.
“Thank you,” she said, unlocking the door and opening it just wide enough for her slim body to slide through. Once she was inside, she turned to face him. “I’m home.”
Seeing that she intended to leave him stranded in the hall, Oliver set his hand on the door above her head and regarded her with raised eyebrows. “The doctor said someone should stay with you for the next forty-eight hours. So, I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re going to be completely okay.”
“I’m going to be fine,” she promised, looking vexed that she lacked the strength to shut the door in his face. “You don’t need to stay.”
He leaned forward and snagged her gaze. “Oh, but I do.”
“Seriously, I’m fine.”
She held firm for several seconds until a strident female voice came at them like an attacking cat from deeper in the apartment.
“Well, it’s about time you got home. Where the hell have you been?”
Sammi’s eyes widened in alarm as she glanced back over her shoulder. An older, shorter version of Sammi had appeared. The woman was borderline gaunt in a sleeveless zebra turtleneck paired with black trousers and ankle boots. She was dressed like a trendy twentysomething despite being in her midforties. Oliver guessed this was Sammi’s mother.
