“I agree.”
As they scrambled to their feet, it occurred to Zady that this was her last chance. She could run away, cling to good judgment, play it safe.
When Nick’s hand cupped hers, she got lost in his dark eyes. She meant to claim him, as he’d already claimed a part of her.
Why should Scottish women have all the fun?
* * *
IF SHE PUSHED HIM AWAY, Nick wasn’t sure how he’d handle it. Zady’s velvet skin and the perfume of her hair suffused him. They’d been building to this moment since he’d glimpsed her across that bleak courtyard at the motel, and his need for her had grown until he couldn’t imagine wanting any other woman.
In his bedroom, he slowed their pace, gripping her wrists when she started to undress. “Let’s enjoy this,” he said. “We have all afternoon.”
“Yes.” But she seemed uncertain about what came next. What kind of man had that boyfriend of hers been, anyway?
The kind who’d cheated on his wife, and then cheated on Zady, too, Nick thought. A manipulator and, obviously, a complete fool.
He unbuttoned her blouse, uncovering a sprinkling of freckles. Kneeling as she sat on the bed, he unfastened her bra, revealing her tantalizing breasts.
She seemed to be holding her breath as he took each pink nipple between his lips and teased it until she groaned. Zady’s hands slid down his back, and she buried her face in his hair, inhaling him.
Together, they eased onto the bed. The pressure of her fingers as she unsnapped his jeans gave Nick a heady sense of lightness. He couldn’t believe how lovely she was. Every perception he’d had of her intensified as he viewed Zady in a fresh glow.
She’d brought him to the edge of a place he’d never been before. Then they leaped over it, together.
* * *
THE REALITY OF NICK, his intensity and his honest caring, swept away the last of Zady’s defenses. She was probably crazy, but so what? She’d discovered a love that obliterated the memory of her childish infatuation with Dwayne. Nick was a real man, not an emotional con artist.
She yielded to her desires—the desires he’d awakened. She hadn’t suspected that pleasure could roll through her in waves, intensifying, ebbing, then surging to greater heights as he thrust into her. She ached for this to last forever.
Just when it seemed that it might, he drove into her, gasping, and she reached an impossible peak. Her cries mingled with Nick’s as they fused. Lights swirled around them in a cloud of stars and galaxies.
He lay atop her, breathing hard. Eventually, to her regret, he rolled to the side. “That was—” he swallowed “—unbelievable.”
“For me, too.” As she snuggled against him, Zady tried not to think about the future or anything other than this moment. It was pure and perfect.
* * *
THEY COOKED PASTA mixed with scrambled eggs and onions for dinner, and ate it with a salad. The plain meal tasted better than it had any right to.
Neither of them spoke of changing their situation. That wasn’t necessary since they already shared a house. Zady figured they’d continue to sleep separately, to set an example for Caleb. Stolen moments together would be all the sweeter.
Did she dare hope that she might someday be his little boy’s stepmother and that their temporary family might become permanent? No sense pushing her luck by suggesting too much too soon.
It was nearly 11:00 p.m. when Rod and Karen brought Caleb home. They’d stayed at Disneyland to watch the fireworks, they explained. The two Adams girls excitedly described what fun they’d had.
After they left, Caleb stumbled off to put on his pajamas without protest, his head nodding as Zady helped him brush his teeth. She could have sworn he fell asleep in Nick’s arms before he even reached his bed.
Tomorrow, he and Nick would reconnect with the Carrigans, while this household adjusted to its new dynamics. They’d be a threesome—with her and Nick much more than merely housemates. A new world stretched before her.
True to her resolve, Zady didn’t dwell on that. Curling on the sofa beside Nick to watch a movie, she was content simply to be here and now.
* * *
SPREADSHEETS, SERIOUSLY? Nick glared at his computer. He’d been primed to expect many things from Fightin’ Sam, the crusading pediatrician, in preparation for tomorrow’s face-off, but this analysis of patient flow, distribution of existing personnel in offices and so on—page after page—set his head spinning.
Not in a good way, either. Nothing like yesterday with Zady.
He’d longed for a repeat after Caleb went to bed, but the movie they’d watched, Don Juan DeMarco, had proved less erotic than he’d anticipated when he chose it. Completely absorbing, however.
Nick stared across the kitchen toward the living room, where he could hear Caleb crashing toys into each other. Zady’s soft-voiced offer to play a game met with a shouted rejection.
Perhaps it was exhaustion from the Disneyland outing that fueled Caleb’s bad temper this morning. Also, he was missing his little playmate more than they’d expected, despite how often the pair had squabbled.
Zady and Nick had explained in advance that Linda was only a guest here and was about to return home. Also, they’d promised to arrange a playdate with her soon. Apparently that wasn’t enough for a three-year-old.
Nick mulled over the idea of whisking the boy off early and stopping somewhere en route to the Carrigans’ house. The Fullerton Arboretum might be open now.
He was looking up the website when his cell rang. Nick flinched. He wasn’t on call for deliveries. Please don’t let it be... He picked it up.
The readout read, Grandma Elaine.
Determined to be positive, he answered, “Hi, Elaine. Would you like us to come early? Caleb can’t wait to see you.”
“I’m sorry.” Why didn’t she sound sorry, then? “Bennie’s not feeling well. This isn’t a good day.”
“What does his doctor say?” Nick demanded.
“I beg your pardon?” She spoke slowly, as if confused.
He refused to be put off easily. “If he’s too unwell to have his grandson pop in, that could be cause for concern. I’ll tell you what. I’ll bring Caleb over to spend half an hour with you, and I’ll discuss Bennie’s situation with him. Perhaps we can call his doctor about adjusting his medication.”
A couple of dry coughs provided Elaine a breather to cook up a reply, or so Nick assumed. “That won’t work.” She pronounced the words deliberately, as if reciting them. “Let me talk to my grandson. I’ll reassure him.”
Nick considered arguing, but he’d never won yet with Elaine. Instead, he chose a compromise. “Fine. Let’s figure out how to set up a visual connection so he can see your face.”
“And so you can listen in?” she responded. “I’ll talk to Caleb privately. We’ve been very accommodating to your arrangements, Nicholas. It’s the least you can do.”
This was her idea of accommodating? Nevertheless, she was an old lady—well, not that old, at sixty-four, but people aged differently. “If you insist, but I believe you’re shortchanging him.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
Judge, jury and executioner, Nick thought grimly. At the entrance to the living room, he exchanged a meaningful glance with Zady, who rolled her eyes at the unspoken bad news. “Caleb,” he said aloud, “Grandma Elaine wants to talk to you.”
The little boy jumped up and snatched the phone from his hand. “Hi, Grandma. I went to Disneyland!”
There was a pause. Then Caleb said, “Okay,” and took the phone to his room.
“What’s going on?” Zady asked when they were alone.
Nick explained about Bennie being under the weather and Elaine’s demand to speak privately with her grandson. “I have no idea what she’s telling him
and I don’t like this secrecy.”
“Neither do I.” Her mouth pressed into a thin line.
Nick was glad she didn’t criticize his handling of the interaction, because his temper was close to the boiling point. He didn’t want to aim it at her, though.
And Elaine, as usual, was out of reach.
* * *
ZADY’S INSTINCTS URGED HER to prod Nick into action. However, how he chose to parent his son was a delicate matter. Besides, what action could he take? The Carrigans weren’t under his command.
When Caleb closed his door, apparently following instructions, she was glad that Nick promptly reopened it. A moment later, she heard the little boy say, “Okay, Grandma. I love you and Grandpa.”
He emerged and went straight to his toys, ignoring the grown-ups. In an admirable attempt at a neutral tone, Nick asked, “What did Grandma say?”
“She said I’d be okay here with Zady.”
Why me? Zady wondered.
She could hear the frustration in Nick’s next question. “Did you talk to Grandpa?”
Caleb shook his head. “Grandpa’s sick.”
“But Grandma isn’t.” Zady knew she ought to stay out of this, but Elaine’s comment had put her in the middle of it. “I don’t understand why your grandparents won’t move heaven and earth to see you. They’re supposed to love you.”
“And you’re s’posed to love Linda!” Jumping up, Caleb fled to his room.
“I shouldn’t have spoken,” Zady conceded.
“No, you shouldn’t.” More gently, Nick said, “Taking care of my son is my responsibility.”
I was hoping it was partly mine now. “All right.”
“After lunch, I’ll drive him to the arboretum. He ought to enjoy that, and it’ll take his mind off things. First, I’d better finish plowing through the stuff Samantha Forrest sent.”
They should be coping with Caleb as a couple, Zady thought. After everything they’d shared, it hurt to find they were as far apart as ever. One step forward and one step back—or was it two steps?
She retreated to her room and the hunky Scottish hero with the missing shirt. Despite his sexual prowess and heroic nature, however, he made a poor substitute for the man whose company she craved.
Chapter Seventeen
Marching along the hospital’s fifth floor toward the executive suite with a small knot of doctors, Nick was conscious of the glances cast in their direction by other staff members. Maybe he should have followed his instincts and stayed home with Caleb.
His son had enjoyed yesterday’s outing. “It’s like a movie!” he’d cried as they strolled through a rain forest section of the arboretum, snapping pictures. At home that night, he’d been worn out, and so had Nick. Zady had exclaimed over their photos but otherwise seemed subdued.
Nick appreciated how much losing Linda must hurt, but Caleb was suffering from his little friend’s absence, too. The boy needed attention after the mischief Elaine had pulled.
Nick had considered calling the Carrigans today to demand an explanation, but it might be smarter to let the matter drop. If Elaine wanted to see them, she could take the initiative. Meanwhile, three-year-olds lived mostly in the present. Without reminders, the Carrigans might slip to the back of his mind. While unfortunate, that would be preferable to this turmoil.
He’d rejected the temptation to let Caleb skip preschool and day care today. It was important to anchor the boy in his routine, and there’d been a pile of laundry to wash and grocery shopping to do. Plus, Nick’s absence at this confab risked antagonizing his colleagues.
They’d rallied earlier in Samantha’s pediatrics office, which had been empty for the lunch hour. She’d warned them of a range of eventualities, from her husband calling security to throw them out—unlikely—to being granted the opportunity to present a formal proposal. Setting aside a floor of the Porvamm for nonurology staff was their minimum, she’d declared.
And the maximum? Well, that was the same as the minimum, apparently.
Now, their fearless leader, her blond mane flowing behind her, strode along the corridor. With their white coats billowing in a self-made breeze, Jack and Adrienne and Jared sped in her wake, followed by Nick and a couple of pediatricians.
They marched into the executive suite’s reception area. From a previous visit, Nick knew that the staff attorney occupied one of the inner offices, with the larger one assigned to Mark. Since it was lunchtime, he expected the administration secretary to be away, but there she sat, greeting them calmly.
“Dr. Rayburn’s expecting you,” she said. “Go on in.”
He had been expecting his wife, Nick recalled. But the secretary didn’t bat an eye about the reinforcements.
He found out why a moment later. Mark Rayburn, who rose from his desk with a smile, wasn’t the only doctor awaiting them.
From nearby seats uncoiled three men: Cole Rattigan, the urology director; Owen Tartikoff, head of the fertility program; and Marshall.
Was this an ambush? Nick wondered. It sure looked like one.
* * *
THAT MORNING, THE HOUSE had echoed with Linda’s absence. Rising in the predawn dimness, Zady had started to skirt the cot en route to her bathroom before realizing it was no longer there. The temporary bed was stored in the closet, the sheets washed and folded away.
No matter how strongly she believed she’d done the right thing, she missed her little girl. If only she could hold another child in her arms.
But without Linda present, Caleb had refused to let her hug him or fix his breakfast. Nick had done it—only fair, since he had Mondays off—but Zady was acutely aware of being reduced to overnight babysitter.
Not entirely, though, she gathered from Nick’s sympathetic smile. The glow from that smile remained until she arrived at the office, where Marshall requested she reschedule his early-afternoon appointments. He had a couple of important meetings, he explained.
She had to bite her tongue to refrain from asking if they concerned Nick. That would be disloyal—but wasn’t she being disloyal to Marshall by withholding information that might affect his program?
At lunchtime, Zady declined an invitation to accompany her fellow nurses to the cafeteria. Tension about the scene playing out in the administrator’s office left her with little appetite.
In the break room, she was staring morosely at her chicken sandwich when her cell rang. It was, she saw, the hospital’s day care center.
“Zady Moore,” she answered.
“Thank goodness I reached you. This is Maureen Arthur.” The director of the center sounded hoarse. “Is Caleb Davis with you by any chance?”
Worry darkened her vision. “No. Isn’t he supposed to be there for lunch?” Nick had said he intended to stick to the boy’s regular schedule.
“The van driver from the preschool checked him in on time, but nobody’s seen him since,” came the reply. “He should have joined his playgroup, but he’s not there or in the restroom. I called Dr. Davis, but his phone went straight to voice mail.”
Zady couldn’t breathe. She loved that little boy. This couldn’t possibly be happening.
* * *
“I ACCEPT MY share of blame for all the drama.” Built like a linebacker, Mark Rayburn had no trouble dominating his office’s conference table, around which the opposing groups had gathered. “If I hadn’t brushed aside your concerns, this wouldn’t have been necessary.”
“One can hardly call it necessary.” Owen Tartikoff’s sardonic tone indicated his amusement as much as his disagreement. But then, having trumped the dissidents, he and his fellows had every reason to feel smug, Nick mused. “A simple email would have sufficed.”
“We’re way past the email stage,” Samantha growled. She and Owen had had a few run-ins in the past, Nick had heard,
although she wasn’t directly involved in the fertility program.
“We have a, well, I guess you’d call it a compromise to propose,” Mark said. “I’ll let Dr. Davis—Dr. Marshall Davis—explain, since he suggested it.”
All heads turned toward Nick’s cousin. Rather than smirk at being singled out, Marshall folded his hands on the table and regarded them earnestly. “Until now, we hadn’t formally assessed the amount of office space that will be freed up here, so I’ve done that.”
“What is there to assess?” Samantha demanded.
“First of all, the urology program plans to concentrate our doctors in the Adams Building,” Marshall said. “That means we’ll be vacating three suites here.”
That was their compromise? Nick wasn’t impressed, and judging by the glowers of his cohorts, they shared his reaction.
Samantha voiced their skepticism. “Three more suites won’t cut it.”
“No, but they’ll help,” her husband replied. “After reviewing Marshall’s figures, Cole, Owen and I agree that the urology staff should be assigned one and a half floors in the new building, with the remaining half a floor allocated to other specialties.”
“Which floor?” his wife demanded. Because of the distribution of labs and other support services, the floors contained varying amounts of available space.
“We’re still finalizing the layout. Let’s wait until May to make that determination,” Cole said. “I assure you, we’ll be fair.”
From the stiffening of Samantha’s spine, Nick gathered that she’d prefer to argue. So would he, but they had no chance to regroup or confer. Across the table from him, Adrienne said, “Sounds okay to me.”
“You’ll accommodate pediatricians and neonatologists as well as OBs, right?” Jared Sellers asked.
Cole and Mark nodded. Owen folded his arms and tilted his head noncommittally. Marshall appeared relieved.
No doubt aware that she’d lost momentum, Samantha shrugged. “I’m glad we can agree in principle.”
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