by Gina Wilkins
Sighing, he covered her hands with his. “This isn’t exactly the way I’d hoped to hear you say this.”
Her mouth twitched with the hint of a smile, but she didn’t let him distract her that easily. “I just want to make sure you’re really okay, Andrew.”
He couldn’t argue with the genuine concern in her liquid emerald eyes. Resigned, he nodded and completed the task, himself, stripping the shirt away. Her intake of breath confirmed his suspicion that he bore a few scrapes and bruises from the fall. She reached out to brush her fingertips very lightly over his left side. Even though she barely touched him, he felt the tenderness of the skin there.
“You have a bad scrape here,” she said, her voice not entirely steady, though she was obviously trying to mask her emotions. “It bled a little. Let me clean it up and put some ointment on it. Do you think the rib is broken?”
“Cracked maybe,” he replied honestly, keeping his tone gentle. “Not the first time I’ve cracked a rib. I’ll be okay, Hannah.”
She kept her eyes on the scrape as she drew a long breath. “I can’t tell you how scared I was when you fell. You just...disappeared in front of my eyes. I was so afraid you were...”
“It was a three-foot drop,” he reminded her again. “I know how to take a fall, which kept me from being seriously hurt. I couldn’t avoid the broken railing or bumping my head on that one rock. I’m just glad I’m the one who fell and not you.”
She moistened her lips. “Usually I hang on to the railing when I climb the stairs these days for safety reasons. I didn’t this evening because it was raining and I crowded close to the awning to stay dry. Maggie was with me and she gave me a hand.”
His stomach clenched again at the thought of what could have happened, but he pushed the images out of his mind. Or tried to. “You should put your feet up again. You’ve had a very long day.”
“No kidding,” she said, pushing a hand through her hair.
“Actually, why don’t you go on to bed,” he suggested. He didn’t like seeing the purple shadows developing beneath her eyes. Today alone she had worked, had a doctor’s appointment, shared the amazing ultrasound experience with him, then found out that someone was targeting her with escalating menace. No wonder she looked wiped-out. She certainly wasn’t ready to discuss the future with him, especially the future he was prepared to suggest to her. “We’ll talk tomorrow, after you’ve rested.”
She took his hand and gave a little tug. “Come with me.”
Both his eyebrows shot up that time. “Um—”
“I want to treat that scrape,” she reminded him. “After that you can go back to Steven’s.”
Carrying his shirt, he accompanied her through her bedroom and into the attached bath. He paid little attention to decor other than to note that the bedroom was tidy, big enough for a queen-size bed and a nightstand in addition to a closet and built-in storage drawers and vanity table, and that the palette was as neutral as the rest of her comfortable, but rather impersonal, home. It occurred to him that it seemed a bit out of character for Hannah to have so little color in her home. True, it was a mobile home with somewhat limited decorating potential, but Shelby had bedecked hers with a riot of colors, while Steven’s place was personalized in the colors of his favorite sports team. He hadn’t been inside Maggie’s place, but he doubted it would be quite so impersonal. He was no shrink, but he’d like to know more about why Hannah had avoided committing to any specific colors in her surroundings.
She took a washcloth from a cabinet and wetted it in the sink, adding a squirt of liquid soap. “I’ll try not to hurt you, but I’d like to clean up some of that dried blood to see if you need a bandage.”
“You won’t hurt me.” Still, he flinched when she pressed the cloth to his skin. “Not pain,” he assured her with a wry chuckle. “It’s cold.”
Hannah looked at him apologetically. “Sorry. Guess I should have let the water warm a bit.”
“It’s fine.” He was actually warming up quickly as she bent over to focus on his bare side. A strand of her hair brushed his stomach and the muscles there contracted instinctively. He shifted his weight on his feet, hoping she didn’t notice that his body was reacting in a wholly male way to her ministrations.
“I don’t think it needs a bandage,” she pronounced after another uncomfortable couple of minutes. “It’s just a scrape on the surface. There’s some swelling and discoloration, though. Maybe you should have an X-ray?”
He shook his head. “Even if the rib is cracked, there’s nothing to be done about it except wait for it to heal. I’ll take some ibuprofen later for the inflammation.”
She turned him around and grumbled about the bruises on his back, but apparently decided there was nothing more she could do for them. Instead, she dug out a bottle of ibuprofen and shook out a couple for him to take. He tossed them into his mouth and swallowed them dry. “Thanks.”
She turned toward the doorway. “I’ll get you a glass of water. Then I’ll lock up behind you after you leave.”
He caught her arm to detain her. She wasn’t going to like what he had to say next. “You won’t have to lock up behind me. I’m not going anywhere tonight.”
* * *
Hannah stared at Andrew for a moment with narrowed eyes, wondering if she had heard him correctly. “What did you say?”
He didn’t look notably discouraged by her tone. “I told Steven I’m sleeping in your guest room tonight—or on your couch if there’s no bed in your guest room. I’m going to run over for clean clothes later, but I’m not leaving you alone here until we figure out who’s been harassing you and put a stop to it.”
She was suddenly intensely aware of him being in her private bath in a way she hadn’t been when she’d focused on his injuries. She moistened her lips before saying, “There’s no need for you to stay here. I’ll lock the doors, and you’ll be right across the road anyway. There’s no reason to believe I’m in any danger. It’s not as though I’ve been physically attacked.”
“What would you call this?” he demanded, motioning vaguely toward the bandage on his face. “I got some bruises and a bump on the head, but what if you had taken that fall?”
Automatically her hand went to her stomach. She’d pictured that possibility too many times—not for fear of what might have happened to her, but to their child. She felt guilty for being relieved Andrew had taken the fall rather than her, even knowing he would risk anything to protect her and the baby. That was just the kind of man he was. She was so very glad he hadn’t been seriously injured.
“I’m not leaving you unprotected until I know you’re safe,” he said flatly. “You can ask me to leave and I will, but I’ll just spend the night sitting on your porch.”
She sighed impatiently. “Fine. I have a spare bedroom at the other end of the trailer, but the bed in there is only a twin size. You’re too tall to fit comfortably on it. I’ll take that bed. You can have mine.”
“I’ll take the guest bed. You stay in your own. You need a good night’s rest.”
Hannah planted her hands on her hips to glare at him. “Are you going to let me win any argument tonight?”
“Well, if you argued that I should share your bed with you, you could probably convince me....”
He couldn’t know how tempting it was for her to do just that. “Um—”
He chuckled, though he looked more weary than genuinely amused. “I’m teasing, Hannah. Get some sleep. We’ll try to figure everything out tomorrow.”
She didn’t know how well she would sleep while her mind whirled with everything awaiting her tomorrow. Andrew, her family, the reality that someone hated her enough to plan these cowardly assaults against her. Not to mention her awareness that Andrew would be sleeping in the guest room only a few yards away. She would probably spend an hour or so wondering if he had only been joking about sharing her bed—and the rest of the night trying to convince herself she’d been right not to follow up on that suggestion.
/> Even splotched with darkening bruises, his bare chest was so appealing that it was all she could do to keep her hands off him. There was no question that he kept himself in excellent condition. He was lean and strong and sleek, the kind of body a woman could happily run her hands over for hours. She knew that from experience.
“There’s no need to look so distressed,” he said, cupping her face between his hands to gaze into her eyes. “I know it’s been a crazy few days, and I know you have to be concerned about what happened tonight, but we’ll sort everything out after you get some rest. I just want to make sure nothing else happens tonight to disturb your sleep. You know you have nothing to worry about from me.”
“I think I told you earlier that I’m not afraid of you,” she murmured, covering his left hand with her right. “It’s myself I don’t trust when you’re around.”
He brushed his lips across hers, just a taste of the kiss she craved. “I can’t deny I’m delighted that I have that effect on you, especially because I feel very much the same way when you’re in the same room with me. But I’m here to take care of you, Hannah. I won’t give you a reason to regret having me here.”
She frowned in response to the words he’d intended as reassuring. “I don’t need anyone taking care of me, Andrew. Not even you.”
He winced. “That didn’t come out exactly the way I intended.”
She shook off his hands, drawing herself up to her full height. “Maybe I’ve made some mistakes—and I guess I can’t blame you for doubting my competence, considering that you always seem to rush to my rescue—but I assure you I can take care of myself and my child. I was the one who ended my travesty of a marriage even when Wade tried to manipulate me into staying with him. Yes, I’m living at the family resort, but I’m doing a job I trained to do—and handling it well, I might add. I live in a trailer, but it’s one I bought and am paying for myself. With the exception of the salary I earn, I take no money from my family.”
“Hannah—”
“And I don’t need you protecting me from myself either,” she continued forcefully. “If I decide I want to kiss you, you don’t need to stop me for my own good!”
He looked suitably cowed as he held up his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you need me to—well, for anything, really.”
She growled low in her throat, as annoyed with herself as with him. Those crazy pregnancy hormones had just kicked in again. And he was still standing there, battered and bare-chested, so determined to protect her, looking so chagrined for having upset her.
Before she was even aware of moving, she had her arms around him, her mouth pressed to his. Despite his promises to exert willpower, Andrew made no effort to push her away. Instead, he gathered her against him, returning the kiss with a heat and fervor that only intensified her own passion. If the embrace caused him any discomfort, he either ignored it or didn’t notice. Just as she was too lost in the deep, hungry kiss to be self-conscious about the new size of her body against him.
Her breasts felt tight and exquisitely tender as she pressed them against his bare skin. She could feel the heat of him even through her top and bra, and she ached to feel his hands, his mouth on them. Was this the result of pregnancy hormones or just the way she always reacted to Andrew’s kisses? Whichever the reason, she craved his touch more than the oxygen she gasped in when he lifted his mouth only long enough to change the angle of the kiss.
He was notably aroused against her thigh. It thrilled her that he still reacted to her this way, still wanted her despite her shape or their situation. He slipped a hand between them, beneath her loose top, cupping one taut breast through her bra. His thumb circled lazily, making her gasp into his mouth.
“Maybe—” She paused to clear her throat. “Maybe I’ll win that argument after all. Stay with me, Andrew.”
“There’s nothing I want more than to spend the night in your bed,” he said, his voice somewhat deeper and rougher than usual. “But I don’t want you to have any regrets.”
Would she regret spending another night with him? Or could she see this as one last indulgence just for herself, before she became responsible full-time for a totally dependent child? She wanted him, he wanted her—they were both unattached adults who could use a little stress relief. “No regrets,” she promised.
His hand slid downward from her breast to the curve of her belly. “You—uh—I mean, it’s okay if we...”
“According to Dr. Power, it’s perfectly safe. Even healthy.”
His lips quirked into a sexy smile even as his eyes darkened. “Good to know. I’ll be careful.”
She slid her hand slowly up his chest, skimming very lightly over the scrapes and bruises. “So will I.”
Drawing her against him again, he murmured against her lips, “Anything you want.”
“You,” she whispered between kisses. “I want you.”
Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he turned with her toward the bedroom.
Chapter Seven
Hannah smelled coffee when she woke, reminding her that she hadn’t spent the night alone. As if she’d needed that reminder, she thought, stretching slowly in the tangled bedclothes. Her body was pleasantly loose and relaxed, a result of great sex and sound sleep. Perhaps there had been some awkwardness at first, and maybe they’d had to be more careful and restrained than they had during that intense, hot, memorable encounter in Dallas, yet last night Andrew had proved that he was just as skilled at being slow and tender, she thought with a reflective sigh. A long and complicated day lay ahead, but at least she was tackling it after a satisfying and restful night.
She dressed quickly in khaki maternity pants and a summery, floral-printed top in shades of purple and cream. She left her dark hair down to her shoulders, applied her usual daytime makeup and slid her feet into leather flip-flops before leaving the bedroom. She needed to look put-together and collected, which meant she didn’t want to be wearing her nightclothes when she faced Andrew over the breakfast table.
The mobile home was laid out with the main area—living room, kitchen and dining room—in the center and bedrooms with en suite baths at each end. Dressed in clean jeans and a blue-and-white-striped collared pullover, evidence that he’d made a quick trip to Steven’s place, Andrew sat at the table with a cup of coffee, frowning down at his phone as he read and answered emails. She hadn’t heard the shower running. Had he bathed in the guest bath here or at Steven’s? Even on a Saturday morning, he seemed to be inundated with messages. She thought again of how difficult it must have been for him to push everything else aside to come here almost the moment he’d found out about her pregnancy.
He glanced up when she appeared and immediately put his phone down, giving her a smile that warmed her blood all over again. His hair was still slightly damp, and he’d slapped a clean bandage over the cut at his temple. A purple bruise spread from beneath the bandage almost to his eye. She’d bet that the other bruises she had discovered on his body during the night had bloomed as colorfully.
“I made coffee,” he said. “Decaf was all I could find in your cupboards, so I’m assuming you’ve cut out caffeine.”
“I have,” she said, moving to pour herself a cup. “Have you had breakfast?”
“Not yet. I thought I’d wait for you. I was going to make omelets, but I wasn’t sure if you have any special dietary requirements.”
She grimaced. “I can’t handle a heavy breakfast right now. I’ve been eating fruit and yogurt and wheat toast. I’d be happy to make something for you, though.”
He shook his head. “Coffee’s good for now.”
She carried her cup to the little table, taking the chair across from him. She should probably eat something, but she had no appetite just then. It occurred to her that this was their first real “morning after,” because she’d all but kicked him out of her hotel room before dawn the one other night they’d spent together. And while there was an awkwardness to this morning, it felt jus
t a little too right to sit at a breakfast table with Andrew. Right enough that it made a small, hidden part of her heart start to yearn for things she would be wiser to resist.
“I glanced in the spare room a few minutes ago,” Andrew commented. “I was surprised to see that with the exception of the twin bed, there’s nothing in there.”
“I just never got around to furnishing that room, because there was no real reason to do so before.” Not to mention that the credit card debts Wade had saddled her with had left her little spare money for furniture, she chose not to add. “Now that I’ll be using the room for a nursery, it’s probably a good thing I have a bare slate to start with.”
“You haven’t bought anything for the baby yet?”
“No, not yet. I was waiting until the final trimester to start shopping.”
“I’ll set up an account for you to use to order what you need online,” he said with a nod. “Or would you rather have cash to purchase locally?”
He must have seen the way she immediately tensed. He spoke quickly before she could. “Sorry, that sounded a little blunt, didn’t it? I tend to get into business mode when numbers are involved. I just want you to know, I fully intend to help support this child. No matter what happens between us in the future, you will never have to worry about my being a deadbeat dad.”
She had no doubt of that. If anything, she worried more about his being too involved, rather than the opposite—if only because she wasn’t sure how she would handle seeing him on a regular basis with her feelings for him so powerful and convoluted.
Because she didn’t want to talk about money—or the future—at that moment, she looked toward the stove. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything to eat? I have eggs, yogurt, fruit.”
He studied her for a moment, then decided to follow her conversational lead, though she supposed he knew as well as she that they were only postponing the inevitable. Again. “I’ll have something at the grill later. I want to get started on the investigation.”
