Austen picked up Jared’s cane and held it out to him.
“Thanks.”
“They think Dad’s going to be okay,” Austen said. “Dr. Howell is keeping him overnight in ICU to monitor him. They’ll run some tests tomorrow to determine if the diagnosis of a blocked artery is correct.”
Dora patted Jared’s hand that held his cane. “Thank you, dear, for offering your help. If Dr. Howell is right about Walt’s condition, they’ll send him to St. Joseph’s in Denver for some sort of surgical procedure.”
“What can I do to help, Mrs. Summers?” Jared asked.
“You can take Paige home with you and make sure she gets a good night’s rest. Her father is worried about her and the baby. He’ll do much better knowing that you’re taking care of his little girl.” Dora smiled at Jared and then at Paige, who leaned her head on Jared’s shoulder. “My Walt is so old-fashioned.”
“Dad just can’t get used to the idea that modern women can take care of themselves,” Austen said.
“Sometimes we all need a little taking care of, you know.” Dora sighed. “I’ve rather enjoyed having a strong man to lean on from time to time.”
Jared squeezed Paige’s shoulder. “Well, honey, will you let me take you home?”
Paige was torn between her desire to stay at her mother’s side, standing vigil over her father, and the certain knowledge that by going with Jared she would do her father more good than if she stayed here at the hospital and caused him to worry about her.
“Yes, I’ll let you take me home,” she said. “But you have to promise to bring me back to the hospital first thing in the morning.”
“I promise.”
“Go on,” Dora told them. “Austen will stay here with me, and if I need you, he’ll call.”
Paige hugged her mother and then her brother. “If there’s any change in Daddy’s condition—”
“I’ll call you immediately,” Austin assured her.
“Get your coat and wrap up good and tight. I know it’s freezing out there,” Dora told Paige, then turned to Jared. “Take care of her. For—for her daddy.”
* * *
The mantel clock in the living room struck eleven o’clock. Paige sat curled up on the larger of the two sofas that were arranged in front of the fireplace. Jared handed her a cup of warm milk, laced with a dash of cinnamon. Curling up her nose, she frowned when she accepted his offering.
“You did sprinkle cinnamon on it, didn’t you?” She glanced down at the cup she held.
“Just as you requested.” Jared knelt beside the sofa, lifted Paige’s feet, one at a time, and removed her shoes. “Drink it all and then I’ll put you to bed.”
Paige shivered. The cup trembled in her shaky hand.
“Are you cold?” he asked. Before she could reply, he removed the navy afghan from the back of the other sofa and draped it around Paige’s hips, covering her from waist to toes. “Is that better, honey?”
“Yes, fine, thank you.” She sipped the warm milk. Disgusting. Totally disgusting, even with the dash of cinnamon.
Jared eased down beside her, hooked the curved handle of his cane across the back of the sofa and stretched his arm around Paige’s shoulders.
She took another sip of the warm milk, then set it on the end table. “I’ll finish it later.” Laying her head on Jared’s shoulder, she cuddled against him. “Thank you. You’ve been very good to me tonight. I appreciate it.”
He cupped her chin in his hand. “Ah, honey, don’t you know how easy it is for me to be good to you? All I want is for you to let me take care of you and Angela.”
She cried softly, quietly, while Jared held her in his arms, soothing her with his gentle touch. He asked nothing more of her than to allow him to take care of her—her and their unborn child. And despite her own inner strength and independent nature, Paige was glad that she wasn’t alone. Glad that she had someone to lean on, someone to take care of her, if only for this one night.
But what about all the days and nights ahead? She had planned to raise her child alone with her parents’ help and support. And her mother had offered to baby-sit until the baby was old enough for play school. Paige hated the idea of leaving her baby with strangers, but to be honest, she hated the idea of leaving her baby with anyone.
Now she was five-and-a-half months pregnant and facing motherhood alone. No husband to love her. And no child-care assistance from her mother for quite some time, if her father’s health deteriorated. The last thing on earth she wanted was to be a burden to her parents.
Paige couldn’t let her pride stand in her way. Not now. She needed someone to be there for her, and Jared was more than willing. She’d be a fool not to accept his offer and move in with him.
Living with him didn’t mean she had to marry him, although marrying him would solve her immediate problems. But could she marry him without love and risk not only their future, but their child’s future, as well?
Her eyelids drooped. She yawned. Jared kissed her forehead.
“Come on, Mommy, let me put you to bed before you fall asleep here on the couch.” He retrieved his cane, stood and braced himself, putting most of his weight on his uninjured leg. Reaching down, he grasped her hand and pulled her off the sofa. The navy afghan fell to the floor. Stepping over it, she slipped her arm around Jared’s waist.
Before exiting the living room, Paige picked up her bag from the coffee table and draped it over her shoulder. When they reached the second-floor landing, she halted.
“I don’t want to be alone,” she told him. “I’d like to stay with you. I need you to hold me. Just hold me.”
Jared sucked in a chest-tightening breath, pulled her into his arms and held her. His big, strong arms trembled ever so slightly.
He led her into his bedroom and sat her down on the edge of his bed. “I’ll get you something to sleep in.” He rummaged around in a dresser drawer until he found a pair of cotton flannel pajamas he’d never worn. He couldn’t even remember what he was doing with them. Maybe someone had given them to him as a gift.
He tossed the green-and-blue plaid top to Paige. “Here, honey, put this on.” He draped the bottoms over his arm and headed toward the bathroom. “Take your time.”
Fifteen minutes later when he returned, freshly shaved, barefoot and wearing only his flannel pajama bottoms, he found her sitting on top of the covers, her back to the headboard. She held something in her hand. As he neared the bed, he realized that she was looking at some photographs.
“What have you got there?” He sat down on the edge of the bed, leaned his cane against the nightstand and propelled himself upward to sit beside her.
Her hands trembled as she held out the pictures, offering them to him. “They’re the sonogram pictures. I’ve been carrying them around in my purse for six weeks.” Guilt overwhelmed her. These were the first pictures of their daughter, and she had selfishly kept them to herself. He had every right to be upset with her for not sharing them with him before tonight.
“The sonogram pictures of Angela?” he asked.
He stared at Paige, but his gaze wasn’t the accusatory glare she had dreaded. Instead it was a look of tenderness—a look of love. Did Jared love their baby?
Jared’s hand shook when he took the pictures from her. He studied each snapshot, turning them in every direction. He blew out a long, deep breath. “Whew! It’s amazing, isn’t it? There she is, not even fully developed inside you, but she’s already a baby girl. Our baby girl.”
“Oh, Jared.” Paige caressed his cheek. “I’m sorry that I haven’t already shown you these pictures. I had no right to keep them from you. It’s just that I—I—”
“It’s all right, honey. You’re showing them to me now.”
After looking at the fuzzy black-and-white pictures of his daughter for quite some time, Jared finally laid the sonogram photographs in a neat little stack on the nightstand, then turned and pulled Paige into his arms. She quivered with soft, silent sobs as she mel
ted against him, allowing her body to dissolve into his. He held her, gently soothing her.
Jared loves our baby. Jared loves our baby. She repeated the words over and over until they became a litany. If Jared could love Angela, he could love Angela’s mother, couldn’t he? It wasn’t that Jared was incapable of love, it was simply that he had no idea what love was. He probably didn’t realize how deep and profound his feelings for their child were.
“Jared?”
“Hmm-mmm?” He kissed her cheek and nuzzled her ear.
“Thank you.”
“For what, honey?”
“For caring about me and Angela.” Closing her eyes, she sighed.
Jared held her in his arms until she fell asleep, then he eased her under the covers and pulled her close to him again. Didn’t she know, he wondered, that he couldn’t help caring about her and Angela? It wasn’t that he wanted to care so damn much, he just couldn’t help himself. Paige Summers had to be the easiest person in the world to— To what? To want? To need? To care about?
And Angela. The precious little girl he and Paige had created one wild, reckless night. Oh, he cared about his daughter, all right. He couldn’t even begin to describe the way he felt about his child. She was a part of him. Blood of his blood. Bone of his bone. But she was also a part of Paige. Beautiful, smart, funny, endearing, adorable Paige. Being Paige’s child made Angela all the more special.
Why don’t you admit it? he asked himself. You love your little girl! Maybe you’ve never loved another soul as long as you’ve lived, but you love the child growing inside Paige’s body.
He laid a possessive hand over Paige’s belly. In the silent darkness of night, with Paige sleeping in his arms and his daughter fluttering softly against his palm, Jared whispered, “I love you, my little Angela.”
Chapter Ten
Jared woke as the first faint glimmer of morning light painted the dark sky with streaks of pink and lavender. Gray shadows of towering trees danced on the windowpanes. Rousing languidly, he scratched his chest and yawned. He felt a warm, sweet weight against his back and remembered that Paige had spent the night.
Easing over onto his back, he laid his arm across the top of her pillow and glanced at her. How could any one woman be so damned beautiful? Groaning softly, she cuddled to him, lifted her hand and laid it on his stomach. Every muscle in his body tensed. Every nerve tingled with awareness.
He wanted to make love to her. Slowly, tenderly caressing every inch of her lush body. He had wanted her last night, but it hadn’t been the right time. She had needed his strength, not his passion, and he had tried his best to comfort and support her.
Turning his head so that he could look at her, drink his fill of her while she was unaware of his scrutiny, Jared watched Paige while she slept. She rested against him, safe, secure, trusting him completely. She was so young, so lovely, and yet such a complicated woman. By comparison, most of the accomplished, sophisticated women who were a part of his world were simple to understand. Like him, they weighted people’s worth, as they did everything else, in dollars and cents.
He had never had room in his life for sentimentality or romance, and certainly not love. But Paige seemed to treasure the concepts that he had always scorned.
Be tough. Get them before they get you. Show them who’s boss. Men don’t cry. Love is for fools. His father had instilled those ideas in Jared’s head long ago. Rules to live by.
His father had died rich, powerful and unloved. A man whose marriage was a farce, he had sought pleasure in other women’s beds. Larry Montgomery had smoked too much, drunk too much and lived too hard. And when he died, not even his own son had shed a tear.
Is that what you want? Jared asked himself. To wind up like your father?
Paige stretched her arms over her head, arched her back and yawned. Her eyelids fluttered. As she gazed up through barely open slits, her vision not quite focused, she smiled when she saw Jared looking down at her.
“Good morning.” Reaching up, she slipped her arms around his neck and drew his head down for a quick kiss.
He rubbed her nose with his. “It’s barely daylight. You should be sleeping.”
“I don’t want to waste any more time sleeping.” She ran her hand over his shoulder and down his arm, caressing his hard, tense muscles. “I’ve missed you.” Gliding her fingertips across his chest, she teased his tiny male nipples, bringing them to attention.
Jared sucked in his breath. “I’ve missed you, too, honey. You’ll never know how much.”
“Show me.” Her voice was syrupy slow and smooth, tinged with just a hint of her mother’s Southern drawl. “Show me how much you’ve missed me.”
Jared whipped the covers to the foot of the bed and surveyed her long, slim, naked legs, her narrow feet and her honey-pink toenails. Rising up and over her, he bridged her hips with his legs, bracing himself on his knees. She lay beneath him, pliant, patient and pulsating, as she gazed longingly into his eyes.
She had never known what true passion was until she met Jared. This never-ending, gut-wrenching need. This insatiable hunger. This deep, all-consuming desire to love and be loved.
Jared was the most magnificent man she’d ever seen. Big, lean and powerful. And totally male to the very marrow of his bones. Her soft feminine body yearned for the hard masculinity of his. Her female scent, her inviting stare, her aroused sighs sent a message his body could not ignore.
He undid the top button of the baggy flannel pajama shirt she wore. Paige smiled. He undid the second button. She opened her mouth on a silent moan. He undid the third. She licked her bottom lip. He undid the fourth and final button. She quivered.
He lifted the sides of the shirt, separating them and exposing her breasts. Her chest rose and fell with each heated breath, keeping time with the rapid beat of her heart. He caressed her throat. Leisurely stroking her collarbones, he teased her with quick forays across the tops of her breasts, dipping his finger in the deep crevice between.
Arching her back, she lifted up, straining toward his touch. Cupping her breasts, he lowered his head and kissed first one shoulder and then her other. She shivered and sighed.
Easing his hand down her stomach, he pressed his palm against her lace-covered mound. She bucked, pressing her body intimately against his fondling hand. He tormented her with his hands and mouth, petting her without ever giving her what she wanted, what she was panting for.
Her nipples puckered into tight, aching points. Her full breasts throbbed. The core of her femininity tightened and released in a tingling, staccato rhythm.
“Please, Jared. Please,” she begged.
“Please what?”
“Touch me.”
He delved his finger between her breasts and licked the hollow of her throat. “I am touching you.”
She squirmed beneath him, lifting her hips and rubbing herself against him. “You know what I want.”
He lowered his head to her breast at the same time he slipped his fingers inside her panties. When he laved her nipple with his tongue and massaged her intimately, she cried out from the exquisite, torturous pleasure.
Getting out of bed, he manacled her ankles and slid her across the bed until her hips rested on the edge. He slipped her panties off her body, then divested himself of the flannel pajama bottoms. Approaching her, naked and trembling with the force of his desire, Jared spread her thighs apart and raised her legs to straddle his shoulders.
“Tell me what you want?” Cupping her hips, he lifted her up and into him, stopping just short of entering her.
“I want you inside me. Now.” She reached for him, but he brushed her hand aside. “Please.”
“Yes.” He plunged into her. “Now!”
She gasped, amazed anew by the fullness, the power, the incredible completeness of his possession. In the days they had spent apart, her hunger for him had only increased. She wanted him now more than ever before, wanted him as she had never wanted anyone else.
Embe
dding himself deep within her, he dug his toes into the bedside rug, ignoring the pain in his ankle. He tightened his leg muscles and clutched her hips.
And then the mating dance began, savage in its intensity, wanton in its maneuvers, pure animal passion by its very nature. As he pounded into her, her desire spiraled higher and higher. With each forceful lunge, he brought her closer and closer to the pinnacle.
Their earth-shattering releases came simultaneously. Jared cried out when his hit him, the strong, masculine cry of a conqueror who had been conquered. Moaning deep in her throat, Paige panted as wave after wave of fulfillment claimed her.
Jared drew her up off the bed and into his arms, his mouth taking hers in a greedy, hungry kiss, devouring her with his passion. She clung to him, her body fluid and boneless, as the aftershocks echoed through her.
Their bodies still joined, their arms linked around each other, Jared and Paige tumbled onto the bed. They lay together in sated silence, exchanging languid caresses as they drifted off to sleep.
Waking first an hour later, Paige showered, dressed in the clothes she’d worn yesterday and went downstairs to the kitchen. She called her mom’s cell phone. Learning that her father had spent a restful night and had already been taken for tests, she felt a great sense of relief. Her father was going to be all right. She would not allow herself to believe otherwise.
Using his cane, Jared entered the kitchen just as Paige flipped the last pancake off the grill. Coming up behind her, he eased one arm around her waist and patted her tummy.
“How are my girls this morning?” He nuzzled Paige’s neck.
“We’re hungry.” Hoisting the plate of pancakes over her head, she pivoted around, stood on tiptoe and planted a kiss on his lips. “Here, take these and go sit down. Angela and I are starving for pancakes with maple syrup.”
While they ate, Paige gave Jared a report on her father’s condition. “Regardless of what the tests show, I have no doubt that Dr. Howell will send Daddy to Denver.”
“I’ll have my plane standing by,” Jared said.
Nine Months Part 3 (36 Hours) Page 2
