Lucas considered that a moment. “That’s what you think the kiss was about—pregnancy hormones?”
“Yes.” But she didn’t sound as if she believed it any more than he did. “That, and I’ve always been a little attracted to you.”
He couldn’t totally suppress that idiotic sound of surprise that escaped his mouth. “You were attracted to me?”
“Definitely.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. In fact, one summer when Marissa and I were fifteen or so, we watched Finn and you skinny-dip at Palmer’s Creek.”
Lucas shook his head. “You did what?”
“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly proud of it, but it’s what estrogen and other raging hormones do to a young woman’s body. Don’t worry. I averted my eyes before I could get a glimpse of full frontal nudity.” She shrugged. “But I did get a mental glimpse of full adolescent lust.”
Still not understanding this, he leaned closer to make sure there was no humor in her eyes. There wasn’t. “Lust for me?” he clarified.
“For you. But when I saw how Marissa reacted—I’m talking she had the serious hots for you—I told my body to look elsewhere.”
It was as if he’d just been given a rewritten version of the history of his life. For one thing, he hadn’t even known Marissa had been interested in him until well after high school. And he’d never noticed Kylie looking at him with anything other than friendly interest. And all of this new information made him wonder—what would he have done if he’d known? Would Kylie and he have somehow found their way to each other? The attraction was certainly there.
The phone rang, interrupting Lucas’s unwanted trip down memory lane. Because there wasn’t a phone in the nursery, he went back down the hall to the kitchen.
“Lucas Creed,” he answered.
“Sgt. Katelyn O’Malley, SAPD.”
Lucas didn’t recognize the caller, but he did recognize that tone. A cop’s tone for official business. Any levity and lust he was feeling evaporated.
“Are you the officer investigating the incident in the birthing center parking lot?” Lucas asked.
“Not exactly. But I think our cases might overlap. I spoke to the detective that you and Sheriff Knight have been dealing with. I understand you’re to meet with Tiffany Smith tomorrow afternoon?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Well, I think you’ll have to change your plans. Ms. Smith was brought into the E.R. at Southeast Hospital about an hour ago.”
Hell. “What happened?”
“Car accident. Or maybe not an accident. We’re waiting on the tox results and some other tests. Looks like there’s forced trauma. This might even have been an attempted homicide.”
Why hadn’t he seen this coming? Why? The moment Sheriff Knight had located the young woman, they should have somehow made her tell them where she was so they could provide her with protection.
“Tiffany Smith is in and out of consciousness, but she’s asking to speak to you, Sheriff Creed. And she also wants to see someone I believe you know—Kylie Monroe.”
That last request didn’t do much to steady Lucas’s nerves. Oh, man. What was going on?
“Ms. Smith says it’s critical that she see you and Ms. Monroe immediately. A life-and-death matter, she says,” Sgt. O’Malley continued. “My advice? Get here soon, because it’s life-and-death for her, too. The doctors aren’t sure she’ll last through the night.”
Chapter Nine
Kylie listened as Lucas finished his phone call. It was the third he’d made since they’d started the forty-five minute drive from the ranch to the Southeast Hospital in San Antonio. The first call had been to his deputy, Will Trapani, who, judging from the one side of the conversation that she had overheard, was still sick with the flu, suffering from chills, fever and other assorted cruddy symptoms.
Will’s description of his ailments had created some get-well, sympathetic remarks from Lucas, but he’d cursed when he’d hung up. Obviously, he’d counted on having the deputy as backup. He couldn’t very well call out his other deputy, Mark Jensen, because that would essentially leave Fall Creek without any police protection.
Will’s flu bug had precipitated a second call to Sheriff Knight, who apparently was planning to meet Lucas and her at the hospital. That was a security measure that Kylie understood because, after all, Knight was a lawman. What she didn’t understand was Lucas’s third call. To Finn. Lucas asked him to go to the hospital, as well.
“Please don’t tell me you expect Finn to be able to return fire if we get into a situation while we’re visiting Tiffany Smith?” she asked.
“I’d rather arm his Dobermans. I’ve seen Finn shoot, or rather attempt to shoot, and it wasn’t a pretty sight.” Lucas slipped his phone back into his pocket. “If there’s medical red tape, I want Finn to cut through it for us. I don’t want you in that hospital any longer than necessary.”
The concern for her safety was loud and clear. And Kylie greatly appreciated it, too. It wasn’t a question of bravery but rather one of survival. If she got hurt, or worse, so would the baby.
But she had to wonder if Lucas’s concern had increased because of that hot kissing session?
Kylie wanted to dismiss what’d happened. Mainly, because it was easier to dismiss it than to try to figure out the consequences.
And there would be consequences.
No doubt about it. Lucas was probably already feeling massive amounts of remorse. Ditto for her. In her mind, he was still Marissa’s husband. Except she darn sure hadn’t been thinking about Marissa when she had been kissing him.
That didn’t lessen the guilt.
In fact, it made it worse.
It was scary that something like physical attraction could temporarily cause them to push aside all those barriers that they’d spent three years erecting. Part of her wanted those barriers back. It was safer that way. But she couldn’t deny that Lucas’s kisses had awakened feelings inside her that she thought she would never have. Not for him. Not for any man.
Kylie pondered that a moment.
And since it seemed too overwhelming and totally unsolvable, she decided to continue to blame it on the pregnancy hormones. Those little suckers had gotten a lot of playing time lately, and she would continue to give them a little more.
“I should have insisted Tiffany Smith go into protective custody,” Lucas mumbled.
It wasn’t his first such mumbling, either. It was the fourth time he’d said something similar since he’d gotten the call from Sgt. O’Malley at SAPD.
“My guess is Tiffany wouldn’t have told you where she was,” Kylie informed him. “After what she’s been through, I doubt she’s the trusting type.”
“I should have pressed her to tell me.”
“And the pressing would have sent her straight into hiding. You said Sheriff Knight thought she sounded afraid. Well, there you go. She wouldn’t have simply put her safety into the hands of strangers.”
Apparently her attempt at reassurance meant nothing because Lucas only grumbled again. Kylie totally understood. Yet another form of guilt, but guilt all the same. It was becoming her forte. She didn’t need to tell him that it would be a while, maybe forever, before the guilt would go away.
“Stay right next to me,” Lucas instructed as he stopped his truck in the parking lot of the hospital. “And don’t make me regret bringing you along.”
As if he’d had a choice about that. Tiffany had apparently made it clear to Sgt. O’Malley that she wanted to speak to both Lucas and her. Kylie could only hope the young woman had information that would stop the kidnappers from coming after her again. Of course, Tiffany could have paid a very high price for simply having that information.
This might even have been an attempted homicide. Lucas had told her that’s what Sgt. O’Malley had relayed to him.
Kylie hated to jump to conclusions because this could have been a botched carjacking or even a bad case of road rage. She prayed t
hat’s all there was to it. While she was at it, she added a prayer for the young woman. Tiffany didn’t deserve this.
They entered through the emergency room, and after Lucas spoke briefly with the nurse at the check-in desk, they were directed to a tall, brunette doctor who was in the nearby hallway. Kylie glanced around and didn’t see either Finn or Sheriff Knight. She also adjusted her purse, in case she needed to get her weapon in a hurry. The hospital appeared safe enough, but she wasn’t about to risk their lives on that appearance.
When they approached the doctor, Lucas pulled back his jacket so she could see the badge clipped to his belt. “I’m Sheriff Lucas Creed. This is Kylie Monroe. We’re here to see Tiffany Smith.”
The doctor wore a nametag that identified her as Shelby Morgan, M.D. She motioned for them to follow her deeper into the hallway so they weren’t right next to the other E.R. patients. “I’m sorry, but you might have made this trip for nothing. Ms. Smith isn’t allowed visitors. She lapsed into a coma about fifteen minutes ago.”
Kylie’s heart sank. Mercy, it was awful news. “Do you think she’ll regain consciousness soon?”
“Hard to say. She has some frontal lobe damage, along with some internal injuries from the accident. It also appears she recently had a difficult childbirth. She has some untreated complications from a botched episiotomy, among other things. She has an infection, a serious one, and that’ll only impede her recovery. If there is a recovery.”
Kylie’s heart sank even further, and any glimmer of hope sank right along with it. “You don’t expect her to make it?” she asked.
The doctor shook her head. “The prognosis isn’t good. We’re trying to locate her family now, but she didn’t give us much information to go on.”
“Tell me about this car accident,” Lucas insisted. The emotion had cooled his voice, but Kylie knew that coolness wasn’t indicative of the frustration, concern and even the anger he was feeling. “What happened?”
“The other sheriff already asked me that.”
“Sheriff Knight?” Kylie questioned.
“Yes. He arrived just as Ms. Smith went into the coma. He’s outside her hospital room. Standing guard, along with the other officer from SAPD.” She paused, studied them with weary eyes. “I suppose the security’s necessary?”
“Could be,” Lucas answered. “It’d help to know what happened to cause the accident.”
“We don’t know much. According to the officer who brought her in, it appears that Ms. Smith was driving in her vehicle when she was run off the road. Her car nose-dived into the Basse Street basin. Ms. Smith couldn’t or wouldn’t say much, but she did tell us…” The doctor looked down at the sheet of notebook paper she held in her hand. “I’m more or less quoting here, ‘I shouldn’t have talked to Kylie Monroe. It’s all a terrible mistake.’”
Because she needed it, Kylie leaned against the wall. “Someone wanted to silence her before she could say anything else to us.”
“That terrible mistake part could refer to the car accident,” Lucas pointed out.
Or maybe Tiffany had meant her conversation at the surrogacy clinic. Had she told someone about that conversation? Or had someone forced her to tell them after the article Kylie had written had been published?
Either way, they were back to square one.
No doubt that article had probably put Tiffany in the hospital. In the end, it might cost the young woman her life.
“I’ll check on Ms. Smith’s tox screens,” Dr. Morgan informed them, heading down the hall toward the elevator. “I’ll let you know what I find out. Oh, and I’ll tell Sheriff Knight that you’re here.”
“Hell,” Lucas said under his breath when the doctor walked away.
Kylie totally agreed with the sentiment. Tiffany’s life was hanging by a thread, and there was nothing they could do about it. Worse, they didn’t seem to be any closer to identifying the culprit.
“This is all my fault,” Lucas grumbled. “It shouldn’t have happened.”
“Funny, I was thinking the same thing. That article—”
“I’m the one who didn’t provide a potential informant with adequate protection. That’s standard law enforcement procedure, and I blew it.”
“Tiffany wouldn’t have needed protection if I hadn’t written that article.”
He stared at her. “Are we vying for some blame championship?”
“No.” Kylie blew out a long breath. “I think we’re tied for that honor.”
Kylie automatically reached out to him. Touched his arm with her fingertips and rubbed lightly. Subconsciously she’d probably meant it to be a comforting gesture, but it suddenly seemed too intimate.
She expected Lucas to back away, both mentally and physically. She also expected herself to back away.
But they stayed put.
Not only that, he reached and caught her shoulders. He looked straight into her eyes. “I’m not going to let them hurt this baby, understand? I’ll do everything within my power to protect you.”
It was a convincing promise. And it didn’t seem to matter that he had no way to back it up. Kylie believed him. Maybe because she wanted to believe him.
She groaned softly, and she was the one to back away. Until all of this had started, she’d managed to suppress her feelings for the baby. Oh, not totally. But she’d certainly been able to make it through an hour or two not thinking about all the things she’d miss by cutting herself out of the baby’s life.
Lucas’s adamant, heartfelt promise melted away all that suppression.
“We should have never kissed,” she told him. “It was a mistake, and it changed things that shouldn’t have been changed.”
He shook his head. “It didn’t feel like a mistake.”
“That’s why it was one.” She groaned. “Lucas, it’s going to be hard enough for me to give up this baby. I can’t—”
Kylie stopped herself, before she could say something they’d both regret. And they would regret it. Because if she were to fall hard for Lucas, then leaving both him and the baby would be next to impossible.
She had to leave.
Though Lucas had kissed her, held her and had just sworn to protect her at all costs, he couldn’t give himself to her. And she couldn’t try to make a relationship work when she knew in her heart that such a relationship would only cause him more pain.
He rolled his shoulders as if trying to work out the fatigue and frustration. “I don’t want to feel this way. But I can’t help myself.”
Kylie nodded. “I understand. Because when you see me, you’ll always think about Marissa.”
His gaze came to hers. “That’s the problem, Kylie. When I see you now, I see you. The mother of my child. A woman. And it’s tearing me apart inside.”
Kylie’s mouth dropped open. “Are you saying—”
“I’m saying that I can’t,” he interrupted. With that, he walked a few steps away.
She understood that, as well. It encompassed a lot. Their past. Their present.
And, no doubt, their future, too.
“I need to concentrate on the case,” she heard him say. “I can’t let my personal feelings get in the way here. It’ll only cause me to lose focus. And if I lose focus, the baby could be hurt.”
“All right,” she said tentatively.
Not because she disagreed. She didn’t. But the problem was how to make themselves focus when they were going through an emotional upheaval. However, Lucas soon proved he hadn’t just made the comment off the cuff. He truly intended to take action.
When he pulled his phone from his pocket, she walked closer until they were side by side. “Who are you calling?” Kylie asked, alarmed.
“SAPD. I want to make sure they keep a guard posted outside Tiffany’s door. Then, I’m calling directory assistance—so I can get the number for Kendrick Windham, the director of the surrogacy clinic. I want to speak to him.”
Kylie hadn’t seen that last one coming. It seemed an almost despera
te act. Of course, they were desperate. Lives on the line and all of that. “You think talking to Windham will actually do any good?”
“Probably not. But I want to hear his reaction when he learns that Tiffany Smith is in the hospital. And that she’s still alive.”
“Alive, barely,” Kylie pointed out. “And in a coma with a serious infection.”
“But Windham doesn’t know that.”
Kylie considered that, and didn’t like where her consideration took her. “A game of cat and mouse,” she mumbled as Lucas made the calls.
When she had been in law enforcement, she’d played a few of those games herself, but she had to wonder who the mouse was in this situation. Did Windham even have a part in any of this? It was a question she couldn’t answer. Especially since her mind kept going back to Cordelia and the hatred she’d seen in the woman’s eyes. If Cordelia had somehow found out about the secret surrogacy, then maybe she would have been desperate enough to stop it.
But that seemed a stretch, even for Cordelia.
“Windham didn’t answer,” Lucas explained, walking back toward her. “I left a message with his answering service.”
Kylie didn’t like the sound of that. “Dare I ask what you said in that message?”
“I simply told him what had happened and that I wanted answers about Tiffany Smith.”
Well, that would certainly stir up a hornets’ nest. Because even if Windham hadn’t had anything to do with Tiffany’s accident, he still had to address the questions of why he’d used an underage surrogate. And why she’d obviously received such shoddy medical care during and after delivery.
“I understand you’re accusing me of a felony or two,” she heard someone say.
She turned toward the man’s voice. So did Lucas. She saw an imposing, dark-haired man making a beeline toward them. He was about six feet tall and wearing perfectly tailored khakis, a cream-colored pullover sweater and an expensive calf-length black cashmere coat. An eraser-size icy diamond winked in his left earlobe.
His stride was confident. Cocky, even. The stride, posture and attire of a man who was accustomed to getting everything he wanted.
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