The Night before Baby

by Smith, Karen Rose

  The caller hadn’t said it was important, but there was no way to know. She had to tell him about it.

  Slipping on her robe, she wished she had another that was longer and heavier. She thought briefly about getting dressed but decided that would be ridiculous. Her pulse skipping faster, she went into the hall, then knocked on his door.

  When he opened it, her breath caught. He was wearing black silk sleeping shorts and nothing else.

  She couldn’t seem to direct her eyes away from the curling light brown hair on his chest. But finally she raised her gaze to his and found a wary expression on his face. “I...uh...forgot to tell you something.”

  He stood silent and sensually imposing—all that tanned skin, his dark nipples, the whorl of hair descending beneath the band of his shorts...

  Forcing herself to concentrate on her purpose for standing at his door, she managed to say, “A phone call came in for you. It was a woman. She didn’t leave her name but said you should call the ranch.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” His voice was even and short as if she’d disturbed him.

  “Lucas...”

  “I have a phone call to make, Olivia. Next time just post the message on the refrigerator.”

  There was really nothing else to say to him right now, and it was obvious he didn’t want to talk to her. She returned to her room, wondering why she felt so sad, wondering why she felt like crying.

  Alone in the office suite, Olivia gathered the notes she’d made all morning and took them to Stanley’s desk. Both he and June had left for lunch. When she was on the way back to her chair, Molly came into the office. “Are you ready for lunch?”

  Olivia shook her head and felt light-headed. The nausea had been worse than usual this morning. Even the thought of food... “No. But thanks for asking.”

  “Olivia, you look really pale. Is there anything I can do? Bring you a soda?”

  Olivia shook her head again and bent to the bottom desk drawer to file a paper. “I didn’t sleep much last night.”

  “You need to take care of yourself. Why don’t I come over and fix supper for us?”

  Molly was a good friend and Olivia knew she would be discreet. Standing quickly, she moved toward the door to close it. She must have straightened up too fast because her head began to swim. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I moved in with Lucas.”

  “Moved in?”

  “It’s a compatibility test. We...” Her ears began ringing and little black dots appeared in front of her eyes. “We—” She grabbed her desk as the world tilted.

  “Olivia!” Molly wrapped her arm around her waist and snagged the chair with her foot. When Olivia sat, she ducked her head between her legs.

  “I’m calling Lucas,” her friend decided.

  “No!” Lucas had left again this morning before she’d awakened. She had no idea whether he was in or out of his office, or whether he’d want to be called.

  But Molly had already moved to the phone. As she pressed in the numbers, she scolded, “You need to go home, get your feet up and relax.” After a pause, she said, “Mr. Hunter, this is Molly Doyle. I’m with Olivia and she’s not feeling well—we’re in Mr. Whitcomb’s office.”

  Olivia tried to raise her head, but as she did, the dizziness engulfed her again.

  A few minutes later, the door opened and Lucas strode in. She could only see his feet, but she could tell they were his feet.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Turning her head carefully, she answered, “I’m just a little dizzy.”

  “I’m taking you to your doctor.”

  “No, you aren’t. It will pass. I didn’t have breakfast.”

  He crouched down beside her. “Or lunch?”

  “Lucas, I just couldn’t,” she said to the floor because every time she moved, her head spun.

  “Can you get me a cold, wet cloth?”

  Olivia supposed he was talking to Molly because her friend left.

  His arm came around her. It was so sturdy, the feel of his body so strong, she stopped struggling against the wave of dizziness, and sweat broke out on her forehead. Air cooled her as he lifted her hair. When Molly returned, Olivia suddenly felt the cloth on the back of her neck. In a few minutes, the black fuzziness passed and her ears stopped ringing.

  When she raised her head, Lucas’s face was very close to hers. “Better?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  Standing, he removed the cloth. His gaze on Molly, he asked, “Will you tell Mr. Whitcomb I took Olivia home?”

  “Lucas, I’m fine now.”

  “You’re as white as a sheet and you need something to eat. If you won’t go to the doctor, I’m taking you home.”

  His authoritative tone annoyed her, and she stood to confront him toe-to-toe. But she swayed and suddenly found herself scooped up in his arms with no place to put hers but around his neck.

  “The doctor’s or home?” he growled.

  “Home. But you’re not going to carry me out of this building.”

  “Watch me. We’ll take the stairs.”

  With a smile, Molly handed Olivia her purse.

  “You’re aiding and abetting,” Olivia grumbled.

  “For a good cause,” Molly replied.

  Lucas checked the hall before he carried her out the door, then descended the flights of stairs with her as if she were no heavier than his briefcase. At the outside door, she protested. “Put me down, Lucas. Let me get my sea legs.” When he frowned, she asked, “Please?”

  “If you’re wobbly...”

  “I’ll hold on to your arm. Promise.”

  Setting her on her feet, he watched her carefully as he pushed open the door.

  Olivia preceded him outside, aware of his gaze on her. She had a headache and felt exhausted, but not dizzy. As Lucas walked beside her, she felt his stability and his strength.

  Lucas drove a top-of-the-line Jeep with a plush interior and a CD player. As they rode home in silence, Olivia rested her head against the seat. When he switched on the stereo system, the soft strands of a classical guitar filled the vehicle. If she had slept better last night, maybe she wouldn’t feel so tired, though the doctor had told her fatigue wasn’t unusual in the first trimester.

  Less than a half hour later as they entered Lucas’s town house, he said, “Go on upstairs. I’ll bring you something to eat.”

  “You don’t have to take care of me.”

  “I’m taking care of the baby,” he responded. “Go on.”

  As Olivia climbed the steps, she was unable to tell if Lucas was still angry with her about last night, unable to tell what he was feeling at all.

  When Lucas came up the stairs, he saw Olivia’s bedroom door standing open. Last night he’d been frustrated when she’d pulled away, frustrated she couldn’t see as clearly as he could where they were headed. And when she’d mentioned Whitcomb as if he was some paragon, Lucas had walked away to keep his temper in check. When she’d come to his room to tell him about Mim’s call, he’d still wanted her in a physical way. He’d been gruff, because as her eyes had roved over his chest, he’d known he couldn’t hide his need.

  But when he’d gotten Molly Doyle’s call today, fear had taken the place of frustration, anger and desire. What if something happened to Olivia and his baby? That fear had made him rush to her side and convince her to do what was best for her and their child whether she liked it or not.

  The tea mug rattled against the glass of soda as he juggled them along with a plate holding half of a chicken sandwich. Olivia was standing at the dresser brushing her hair—long, shiny hair that was luxuriously thick and silky. She’d changed into knit slacks and a top that clung to just enough curves to make his desire rise again. He’d never had a problem keeping his libido in check before he’d seen Olivia at Barrington.

  She turned as he came in and set her lunch on the bedside stand. “Thank you,” she said, her gaze meeting his. “I called Stanley to tell him I’d be out this afternoon.”
>
  After a brief silence, he asked, “Molly knows you’re pregnant?”

  Olivia sat on the edge of the bed. “I confided in her the day after I told you. I can trust her. She knows I’m staying here, too.”

  “Did you ask her to call me?”

  With her pale cheeks becoming slightly rosy, she shook her head. “No. Molly does what she thinks is best no matter what anyone else says.”

  “Smart lady.” He motioned to the sandwich. “Eat. And don’t try to go to work again without eating breakfast. Got it?”

  Her chin came up. “I can take care of myself.”

  The fact that she hadn’t asked Molly to call him made him curt. “Well, you didn’t do a very good job of it today, did you?”

  Her defiance faded. “I won’t let today happen again. I’ll force a piece of toast down in the morning before I leave, and I’ll get something for lunch even if it’s only a cup of soup and crackers.” She picked up the sandwich and took one nibble, and then another. “You don’t have to watch to make certain I eat. I’m sure you want to get back to work.”

  “I’ll work here this afternoon. I have a folder of printouts to analyze so Rex can decide what hotels he wants to acquire next.”

  When she’d finished the sandwich and sipped at the soda, she set her glass beside the tea mug. “I’m going to put my feet up for a while and rest. Don’t feel that you have to stay.”

  He understood that she was used to being selfsufficient, but he wanted her to realize she didn’t have to go through this pregnancy alone. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

  Her lips still glistened with the moisture of the soda she’d drunk. He couldn’t help running his thumb along her upper lip. Her eyes widened and he longed to kiss her and lie on the bed beside her. But she wasn’t ready for that.

  As he dropped his hand and turned to go, she said, “I appreciate everything you’re doing for me and our baby.”

  “There’s nothing I want more in this world, Olivia, than to be a father—and a good one. I know that starts now. Rest. I’ll come up and check on you in a little while.”

  When Lucas closed Olivia’s door, he realized he liked the idea of taking care of her. But as soon as the thought found a home in his heart, he warned himself to be careful. He remembered Celeste and her lies. Just because he liked the idea of being a daddy didn’t mean he could let his guard down. Olivia could still be in love with her boss. She could still decide she wanted to raise this baby on her own.

  He had to convince her that two parents were better than one and that forgetting about Stanley Whitcomb was in her best interest and their baby’s.

  Night had fallen when Lucas opened the door to Olivia’s room, and light spilled inside. As she pushed herself up against the headboard, he crossed to her and handed her the cordless phone from his bedroom. “It’s for you—your mother.”

  He’d been surprised when he’d answered it. He didn’t think Olivia had told anyone but Molly she was staying with him.

  She switched on the bedside lamp and as she took the phone from him, she held her hand over the mouthpiece. “I had my calls forwarded.”

  That would explain it. But it was starting to bother him that she didn’t want anyone to know she was staying here. Still, to give her privacy, he left the room and went downstairs. While she’d slept, he’d ordered groceries and had them delivered. The aroma of sauce simmering on the stove filled the house. He thought he might tempt Olivia’s taste buds. If not, she could eat plain pasta.

  He’d made a salad and put a crusty loaf of bread into the oven when she came into the kitchen. “Something smells good.”

  “It doesn’t make you want to run in the other direction?”

  “No. I’m actually hungry.” She lifted the lid off the sauce, took a whiff and smiled. “You might have to give me your recipe. Did you go to the store?”

  “Had it delivered.”

  “I can’t believe I slept that long.”

  She still looked a bit sleepy, her hair softly ruffled. “Did you tell your mother you’re staying with me?”

  “Not yet. She wants to come up from Tucson this weekend for a visit. But I didn’t want to make plans without checking with you.”

  “She’ll be with you all weekend?”

  “She’d like to drive over after school on Friday. She’s a teacher.”

  “That will work great. There’s someplace I should go this weekend.” When he’d called Mim, she’d told him Trevor was having a tough time and not getting along with the other boys. She’d wondered if Lucas was coming for the weekend to give the nine-year-old some extra attention.

  “Out of town?” Olivia asked.

  He wasn’t ready to tell her about the ranch and his background. Celeste hadn’t understood how it drew him back or the responsibility of mentoring the boys there. “I’m going to visit friends in Flagstaff.”

  “When will you leave?”

  “I’ll fly up Friday after work.”

  “Then I’ll call Mom back. While she visits this weekend, I’ll tell her I’m pregnant”

  “How will she take the news?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve always been responsible. I’ve tried never to give her a cause to worry.”

  “You’re still responsible, Olivia. We both are. Make sure you tell her you’re not in this alone.”

  “I will. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  As Olivia left the kitchen, he realized he was getting used to her presence in his life. But he’d better not get too used to it until she decided whether or not they could be a family.

  A few of Barrington’s employees sat in the cafeteria Friday morning, drinking coffee and eating pastries before work. Cindy had called Olivia last night, asking her to meet her here. Olivia’s red coatdress brushed her calves as she stepped inside. She’d felt like wearing something other than a suit today, telling herself she’d worn the red dress in celebration of Valentine’s Day. But she was also hoping to see Lucas before he left. She’d been applying her makeup this morning when he’d called up the steps to say goodbye.

  She felt rested today—better than she’d felt in weeks. When she’d returned to the town house last evening, she’d cooked supper. Lucas had come home around six, and they’d eaten and discussed their day. As she worked a needlepoint picture she hadn’t touched in months, he’d read the newspaper and watched TV. When she’d said good-night, she’d thought he might kiss her again. But he hadn’t. She’d wanted to question him about his “friends” in Flagstaff but didn’t feel she had the right to pry.

  When Olivia crossed the cafeteria with its salmon tiled floor, Formica-topped tables and sky-blue chairs, she spotted Rachel, Sophia, Molly, Patricia and Cindy in a far corner. Their expressions told her they were all waiting for her.

  “Cindy has something to ask us,” Molly explained. “But she wouldn’t until you came.”

  Cindy smiled. Since her makeover that the five of them had given her for her thirtieth birthday, she wore bright colors and short skirts. Today she wore canary yellow. As soon as Olivia seated herself at the table between Sophia and Molly, Cindy leaned forward and spent a moment making direct eye contact with each of them.

  “I want all of you to know how much I appreciate your friendship,” she began. “Without it and without the makeover that you encouraged me to have, Kyle and I might not be engaged. Last night we checked with my church and some reception facilities, and we decided to get married on the third Saturday in November. I wanted to get together this morning to ask all of you to be in our wedding. Will you?”

  A chorus of acceptances came from around the table.

  “Thank you so much,” Cindy said, her happiness evident in her wide green eyes. “Maybe we can go looking for gowns soon.”

  If they didn’t shop soon, Olivia guessed she’d be starting to gain weight. Hopefully she could get back her figure after the baby was born in time for Cindy and Kyle’s ceremony.

  As they were discussing a
possible color scheme for the wedding, Mike—Barrington’s mailman—came over to their table with envelopes in his hand. His gaze fell on Sophia, but he addressed them all. “Ladies, I have invitations for you from Mr. Barrington.”

  In his chinos, polo shirt and short riding boots, Mike didn’t quite fit in with the suited men employed at Barrington. His rakish good looks and “hunk” physique made him a common topic among single women in the office complex. But he was known as being a womanizer, out to have a good time.

  He handed each of the women an envelope with a wink and a smile, but his fingers seemed to brush Sophia’s with lingering intent as he handed her hers. Sophia’s cheeks reddened.

  Olivia opened her envelope and read the invitation. There would be a Valentine’s Day party at three today in the cafeteria. The room would be closed from one to three for party preparations.

  “How nice!” she commented, liking the way the Barrington Corporation treated everyone.

  “Now I know why Mildred wanted a complete list of employees,” Patricia said.

  “Everyone has to come,” Mike warned them. He leaned into their table and dropped his voice to a whisper. “I heard Rex even hired a DJ.”

  “Dancing?” Sophia asked.

  “You bet. So, ladies,” he drawled, “be ready to kick off those high heels. I’ll see you all later,” he added as he moved away.

  As Sophia’s gaze followed Mike, Olivia nudged her friend’s elbow. “Are you interested?”

  “He’s sexy as sin with no spark of ambition.” Sophia shook her head. “He might be the dreamiest man on the face of the earth, but I can’t be interested. I need more than someone who’s content to be a mailman.”